Mee

Oh right, I did release it pretty close to easter ? Lucky coincidence I suppose? Thanks for commenting! Hmm, who knows? Maybe given how early she is into things, she might not slip so easy, but it could definitely be a concern later down the road. As for the bed, she's also covered on that front. For now...bwahahaha! There's definitely a lot of speculation, and a few ways this visit could end! Stay tuned, and thanks for commenting! Yeah, Emily's definitely had better days. I wouldn't describe Emily as naturally shy to all strangers, but probably not overwhelmingly confident either. Nevertheless, there's definitely the intimidation from trying to make a good first impression on Joyce's parents, and it's clear she's cracking from the pressure. So without a doubt though, this visit is going to be a mix of pain and pleasure. Thanks for commenting! Absolutely love to hear everyone's comments and opinions. Thanks a ton! Thanks for the comment, and hope you enjoy to read my stuff as always!

Happy to hear! Hope you enjoy the next one too! Please keep the feedback coming! 19 - One Last Gift “Why aren’t you getting ready for bed, too?” Emily always felt weird about not being dressed the same as everyone else. It felt like she was unprepared for something, and she hated the idea of being different. “Because,” Joyce patted Emily down, making sure the diaper was nice and snug under the sleeper, “I still need to clean up a bit tonight so it’s easier in the morning.” Emily wasn’t pleased with the answer, but she was focusing heavily on the soft fleece she was encased in. It was the perfect combination; a heated body from a hot bath being embraced by cool clothing into an even chillier apartment. She loved the feeling, but she still felt the desire to be dressed like Joyce. It really did drive the point home that she was a kid being sent off to bed early… “But I can help though.” Volunteering herself, and not waiting for an answer, Emily started walking to the kitchen. Of course she stopped though, as a hand had taken hold of her wrist. Sheepishly, she turned back to the tutting Joyce. “Didn’t we just get finished kissing your last boo-boo?” “...Yeah, but...” As if the answer were there, Emily’s eyes scanned the floor. “You already helped me clean up the water, and you apologized. Everything is forgiven.” “Then why do I have to go to sleep early? I wanna go to bed when you do.” “It’s not a punishment, hon, and why are you so hung up on this? It’s never stopped you from turning in early before?” As if the prophecy were inevitable, Emily would always meet her maker on the couch late at night. A princess carry to bed would ensue, then Joyce would finish up her own nightly routine. “You know what I mean.” Emily teasingly grumbled. Joyce moved closer to Emily, and with both hands grabbed the bundle of fabric attached to the sleeper behind her neck. It was drawn up and over her head, clearly a hood, only that two fluffy, triangular ears sprouted from it. Joyce’s eyes practically sparkled as she admired the sight, and even Emily’s feigned grumpiness did nothing to affect it. “So adorable...” Not really noticing the hood to begin with, Emily couldn’t feel any extra weight, but she knew something was on the hood. Aimless and without a real destination in mind, her hands traced the surface of it, then found the items which has Joyce gushing so much. “You gave me cat ears?” Emily exclaimed, blushing as she said so. “No, Amy did,” Joyce corrected, but seemed no less happy. “And she did a wonderful job!” She knew what it’d look like, but actually seeing it on Emily took it to a whole other level! The outfit sat on her body perfectly, and seeing the slight bulge from her crotch, and admiring how the fabric stretched over the diaper, the V-cut in her legs being more of a U, just to accommodate the kind of wearer that needed a little extra protection. The way it all teased the infancy trapped inside of it was nearly too much for Joyce to handle. If she had hugged Emily right then and there, she would probably suffer from sensory overload! “Well...” Emily spoke as she mindlessly bent the corners of the ears, “The stuff she’s made so far feels nice...” “Isn’t it?” Joyce enthusiastically agreed. “And they all make you look ten times more adorable!” The last comment had Emily a bit more flustered, so she tried to focus more on the craftsmanship rather than the appearance. “We’ll need to thank her properly, though.” Emily nodded her head in silent agreement. She’d never had someone go to such lengths for her, apart from Joyce, of course. That being said, Joyce need only throw money at a problem to find a solution. Well, not completely. Joyce was a hard worker of course, and everything thus far was absolute proof of that, but Amy in her own regard was fearsome as well. Everything she had done was by hand and of pure imagination. Emily’s clothes were the very essence of her thoughts. It was once more the idea of ownership by another person, and it reinforced the idea of cushiness. “And you know, I think I know a great way we can do that.” “How?” Emily was all ears to express her gratitude, considering she had four of them now. “She really wanted to see how these fit you, you know?” Emily could feel herself becoming a ghost as she pieced the lead-in to Joyce’s hint. “You mean I have to wear these in front of her?” The panic was obvious. Joyce wanted to try and calm her nerves, but she didn’t right away. “No, you don’t have to, but I think Amy would really appreciate it.” “How come, though?” The idea of revealing herself to anyone else was an immediate turnoff. She could already feel the mood turning sour. “Whenever you do something for someone else, or make something, don’t you want to know what they think?” “I...I guess.” When was the last time she made something for someone though? “Remember this morning? When you colored that picture for me?” Oh, right. Emily nodded her head, feeling no need for further explanation. Even she couldn’t deny the silly pride she felt over such a simple feat. Still, it made Joyce beyond happy, and that’s what Emily yearned for… So, maybe Amy was hoping for the same sort of thing? “But...” Even with that in mind, it still didn’t make it an easy pill to swallow. “But it’s embarrassing!” “Didn’t I already tell you there’s nothing to feel ashamed about?” She stroked Emily’s cheek. “Besides...” Joyce suddenly seemed a bit more remorseful. “She does already know about this...” Her face gave no real indication of anything, but Emily knew it was the whole dynamic she was referring to. “The last thing is for her to see it with her own eyes?” Partly, considering she already knew what the clothes looked like, and what she was supposed to account for… Joyce’s eyes observed the diaper bulge for a few moments. Emily still didn’t answer, and she really didn’t want to right now. She wanted to show Amy her appreciation, but she didn’t want to betray her own privacy either. Even a forceful push by Joyce seemed more scary than exciting right now. “All I want you to do for now is think about it, okay?” Joyce planted a kiss on her forehead. “Whatever your answer might be, we won’t mention it at least until my parents are gone.” “Mhm...” Emily spoke as her mind drifted, unfortunately back to the topic of sleep. Thankfully it was down a different avenue though. “Wait, where are your parents gonna be sleeping tomorrow?” “In the guest room,” Joyce answered simply. “Guest room? Isn’t that where I sleep?” Of course it wouldn’t happen, but Emily couldn’t help but imagine herself sharing a bed with two other people… “Sorry, they’ll need to borrow it for a couple nights?” “That’s fine. The couch is comfy anyways,” Emily chipperly giggled, secretly happy to have the massive cushions all to herself. Joyce’s chuckle though for some reason stopped Emily’s fantasies. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing. You just go with the flow, huh?” “I guess. I mean, it’s your house and your parents, after all.” “Wrong. It’s our home,” wrapping an arm around Emily’s waist, she let a small meep escape her as she was pulled close. “Besides, you’re much too precious to be using the couch.” “Huh? Where would I sleep, then?” Back in bed with the parents? Ugh? Why did she keep thinking that? She giggled to herself. Joyce raised a brow. “With me, of course?” “...Huh?” They stared at each other, equally confused as the other. Something snapped though, as Emily blushed harder and harder. “S-sleep with you? You mean in your bed?” Sharing a bed with Joyce? The more she thought about it, it made sense, but, but was she really going to? Why not skip the nerves and die from anxiety already? She hadn’t once considered the possibility of sleeping with her, but that didn’t mean it was a bad thing... “Well duh, silly.” The way she treated it so nonchalantly had Emily feeling giddy. It was yet another factor that felt seemingly out of her control, as her fate was dealt by a dealer who moved to the beat of their own drum. She was a pebble caught in the tide, hopeless to fight against it. “But I really don’t mind the couch?” “Do you not want to sleep with me?” Joyce didn’t look offended, but that didn’t make Emily worry any less. “No!” Emily suddenly blurted, nearly covering her mouth from the sheer shock over her own reaction. “N-no, I just mean, I didn’t want to impose...” Joyce’s mouth slightly trembled, then grew into a smirk as she laughed, further unsettling Emily as she embarrassed herself. “Impose? C’mere, you...” A tight squeeze refreshed the mood, and Emily felt somewhat at peace again. Smiling contently, Joyce briefly patted Emily’s bottom. “Besides, doesn’t it make sense that we would share a bed by now? We are dating, after all.” “I guess so…” It certainly felt like Joyce was milking that title for all it was worth… Not that Emily minded, yet it was a thrilling observation. The reminder of girlfriend and girlfriend though made Emily’s heart flutter as she squeezed Joyce back. “Oh! I almost forgot one last thing,” Joyce spaced themselves a little bit for a better look at each other. She slightly bent her knees to get closer to eye level. “What is it?” “Do you want milk or juice for bed?” Emily’s curious look sunk to a frown, and Joyce grinned, expecting a reaction such as that. “You know, for a little kitty that loves her naps, you really don’t like being told to go to sleep?” “Then you go to sleep, too!” It wasn’t the act of going to sleep, but the issue of being the only one doing it. “I feel like I’m missing out if I’m the only one...” “Trust me, you don’t miss much. Maybe a party, some clubbing, robbing a bank, and a few movies,” Joyce teased, “but other than that I’m not far behind you.” “Then why can’t I go to sleep when you do?” “Because it doesn’t work like that.” The answer felt awfully fitting for a mommy figure, and it annoyed Emily to no end. It was a real tradeoff to the cuddles and playing all day. It was her first time in this role being told so, but she knew for a fact she hated bedtime… “And why doesn’t it?” Emily countered, crossing her arms. “Because Mommy says so.” Almost immediately Emily’s arms slumped to her sides, clearly looking inconvenienced by the law that’d just been imposed. She saw no end in sight that involved her victory, and they were most definitely in the end game by now. Her personal reign was the setting sun, while Joyce’s powers transcended time itself, reaching to the far ends of the Earth, and as deep as its core. “It’s not fair,” Emily pouted. And to be honest, it was partly genuine. “You’re making it very hard to give you your last treat, you know?” “Is it me getting to stay up later?” “So you don’t want it?” Actions speaking louder than words, with a huff and a puff, Emily sulkily marched off to the nursery while Joyce kept down a laugh the whole way. “Come on pouty pants, milk or juice?” “I’m not pouting, though!” She probably was, but the small voice inside of her was telling her to be rebellious right now, and she liked the idea. The helpless struggle seemed entertaining for some reason. Joyce gave her the ‘Oh, really?’ kind of look. The irrational part of her was longing for Pip now. At least then it’d be two against one. “...Milk, please.” “I’ll be right back.” With bare feet on the much softer floor, Emily briefly meandered around the room until she laid eyes on the giant teddy bear. Mr. Bear, the one that failed to save her from the tickle attacks… Emily eyed him like a comrade that’d betrayed her in the war. Still, she was clearly the bigger person, willing the bury the hatchet as she came to her knees and fell on him with a soft and squishy hug. No real reason compelled her to do it, but she just felt like it. Her entire universe right now was surrounded in soft and loving things, and all she had to do was throw herself in a random direction, and comfort would follow. A pressure in her bladder became an issue though, as her eyes opened to the unpleasant feel of its knocking. Trying her best to brace herself, Mr. Bear felt the brunt of Emily’s physical frustrations as she held onto something while she squeezed it out. The small stream came, and she felt the warmth in her pants, though she wasn’t enthusiastic about it. Thankfully it wasn’t enough for her to cry over anymore, and she tried focusing on the hugs again. . .. … “Emmy? Sweetie? You awake?” With a sudden breath, Emily opened her eyes and could feel the slight nudges to her shoulder. Turning her head, she could see it was Joyce who had a bottle in hand. Did she...did she doze off? Caught red-handed doing the exact thing she said she didn’t want to do obviously made Emily angry with herself. Lazing about after a nice bath always did that to her, especially if she didn’t manage to fall asleep in the bath to begin with. With no real part of her body in mind, she muttered inside her head, traitor… Instead of teasing her for it though, Joyce smiled warmly as she helped her up. “So I see you and Mr. Bear were catching up, huh?” Interpreting it as simply lounging, Emily nodded her head. “Well, Mr. Bear seems like he’s ready for beddy-bye too.,” Joyce assuredly noted, looking over to the inanimate, giant stuffed animal. “No, he’s still wide awake, actually,” Emily randomly retorted, suddenly feeling the need to flex her imaginary doctorate in bear whispering. “Is that what he said?” As if to confirm her suspicions, Joyce leaned her ear closer to the bears nose, nodding her head occasionally. “Mhmm….uh-huh. Is that so?” With every response to the imaginary speech she nodded and murmured assurances. Joyce turned back to Emily. “Mr. Bear said that even if he is wide awake, he knows it’s important to sleep early when you have a big day tomorrow.” Emily wanted to say she misheard him, but knew what the ultimate endgame would be. Joyce was an expert at speaking stuffed bear, after all… “Mr. Bear said I shouldn’t have to go to sleep until Mommy does...” Emily mumbled as Joyce led her over to the crib. “I told you,” Joyce laughed as the repetition kept coming around and around. “I’m only going to be up a little longer! And oh, what’s that Mr. Bear?” She leaned back in for another listen. For a second Emily almost got closer to, but then she remembered distance wouldn’t help her hear something that didn’t actually speak… “Mr. Bear also said that he’s gonna make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight, and he’ll tell me all about it tomorrow.” Once a traitor, always a traitor… Sleep with one eye open, Mr. Bear. She turned back to Joyce. The crib side came down, and Emily was helped inside. Given her bottle of milk, the final nail in the coffin was when the side came back up. “Did you have a good birthday, my princess?” Gleefully, Emily nodded her head. “It’s been the best birthday in a long time,” Emily gave a genuine smile, briefly forgetting how she’d been cheated out of a later bedtime. After all, she had the one woman that made all those silly frustrations possible to begin with. “I mean it, Joyce, thank you.” Standing up so the bars wouldn’t be so much of a hurdle, the two hugged each other one last time, and then Emily planted herself on the mattress, allowing the blankets to be tucked in over her. Without a word, Joyce walked away from the crib and to the exit. Emily turned to her side, clutching the bottle. Curiously, she gave it a suck, rewarded by the monumental efforts of her jaw with a small spurt of liquid. The lights began to dim, and just before it was complete darkness, they stopped. Emily slowly breathed as she soaked in the quiet atmosphere, then was disturbed by the sound of moving in the nursery. Turning her head and rolling over, she was surprised to find Joyce was still in here. “Jo-Mommy, what are you doing?” Sliding over a rocking chair, which Emily was equally as surprised to have never noticed to begin with, Joyce sat herself beside the crib. “I promised you a treat, didn’t I? You always seem to need some convincing to go to sleep, anyways.” Emily watched through the bars as Joyce moved to the closet, walking inside and coming out with something in her hands. It was large and rectangular, and had a simple illustration on the front. Emily could just read the title, as she looked at a cartoonish fox standing on its hind legs wave to the reader with a paw. “Fennis goes to the Fair” “Fennis goes to the Fair? Is that a storybook?” Joyce nodded her head, already opening to the first page. “I know a good story can always put a good girl to sleep.” “I’m not a good girl, though?” Emily joked, obviously trying to tear down Joyce’s logic for no good reason. “For any baby that tries to say they’re not sleepy, then,” Joyce without taking her eyes from the page snarkily corrected herself, whilst Emily giggled. Joyce reached her hand through the bars and ruffled Emily’s hair while she laid on her side, sinking into the pillow and mattress. She cleared her throat and started. “There once was a big, old forest in a big, old valley in a far, far away place.” She went to speak the next line, then Emily stopped her. “Wait! But where is it, though?” “Where is what?” “The valley?” “Weren’t you listening? It’s in a far away place.” “Relative to us, though?” Joyce looked at her with judging eyes, as Emily snickered over getting the exact reaction she wanted. “In a far, far away place, approximately 1,673.42 miles from Emmy’s crib located in the corner of her nursery, at least thirty floors off the ground, inside her nice big apartment.” She looked over to the girl trying to choke down a giggle fit. “Better?” Happily pleased, Emily nodded her head. “And in that forest was a small burrow, sitting next to all the homes of every other furry friend and creature. But who lived in the burrow? Mr. James the jaybird lived in the tree, Sammy the snake lived in the log, Rigby the rabbit slept in the wild vegetable garden, and Felix the frog slept in the swamp? So who was it? Why, it was Ferris the Fox, of course!” Although a simple narrative, Emily listened intently to the sound of Joyce’s voice. The facial expressions she used to match the tones of question, surprise, delight, and simplicity were all so dynamic in their range that Emily barely minded that there might’ve been illustrations she was missing out on. She could already see it in her head; the array of tiny holes throughout the animal community, sealed off by their own specialty made doors, and some even with their own carved out windows. Since when did animals need windows or doors, though? Whatever, Emily didn’t care enough to question. “Ferris was all curled up in his bed, slumbering away since late last night.” “Did he go to a party?” Emily interrupted. “Maybe? Or maybe he just had a long day at work? Anyways, Ferris slept and slept, but with a start opened his eyes big and wide, shouting at the top of his lungs,” then in a nasally voice turned up an extra octave, Joyce imitated the fox’s shout, “Today’s the day! The fair is here! The fair is here!” Her imaginative voice had Emily laughing once again. “That’s not how a fox is supposed to sound!” “Oh? And you do know how they’re supposed to?” “No, but they probably don’t sound like that.” “Are you going to keep interrupting?” Emily between her giggles tried to apologize, and Joyce equally as happy herself continued. In a regular voice she read on. “Ferris bounced from one end of his bed and to the other, excited to have a fun day at the fair. It only came once a year, and Ferris was looking forward to everything he would do there. The fair travelled far and wide and came from the far, far away ocean. There were games, rides, food, and much more. He was especially excited for all the fish he would get to eat.” Passively, both thought to themselves, do foxes even eat fish? Then again, if there was a line to be drawn, why did the talking fox get behind it? “Rushing to get the morning started, he said while brushing his teeth, ‘I can’t wait to eat lots of candy, ride the rollercoaster and play lots of games and win lots of prizes!’” “Wait!” Joyce looked over to her, mildly annoyed. As annoyed as a mommy could be with her baby. “Could you...could you go back to doing the voice?” Emily seemed a bit more sheepish this time. “Not another peep, understood?” Emily nodded her head. Back to the nasally voice, Joyce repeated Ferris’ line again. Emily gleefully listened, happy to hear the voice she’d just criticized return. The simple story went on like so, and Joyce further introduced a range of dynamic voices as more and more characters were introduced. She didn’t openly say it, but James the jaybird was her favorite voice. The deep voice she used for it reminded her of how Joyce described her dad: ‘booming’. Again, it was simple, but that made Emily no less engaged as she heard the tale. She couldn’t remember a time when she was read to like this. Maybe decades ago, but not really ever until now. There was something vibrant and wonderful that Joyce added to it by hearing it from her mouth; something that made Emily feel so fuzzy on the inside, as if to make the story digestible for someone as small as her it had to be expressed in silly voices and sounds. The whole way Emily suckled on the bottle, watching Joyce’s basic, yet hypnotic movements as she rocked back and forth in the chair. Every now and then Emily would find herself forgetting what happened in the story, simply because she was dozing off. How long was this story, anyways? As if it mattered. She didn’t bother asking for a repeat, namely because she’d already thrown a wrench at the gears enough and knew she’d probably doze off again in the middle of a recap. Between the page turns, Joyce would look over to Emily, clearly seeing how she was practically running on fumes by the time of the climax. Not that it was anything too exciting, considering the title pretty much spoke for itself. There was as much character depth as you’d expect from a daycare bestseller, and the conflict wasn’t exactly layered either. No real twists, just a simple experience. That didn’t change it was an easy and enjoyable read though. Not much longer after that, Emily was sound asleep, yet Joyce pressed on with the story. With only a little bit left, she saw the story to the end. “And after Ferris hung up his brand new fish, and set aside the set of pet oysters he won, he slipped into his own bed, thinking what a wonderful day he’d had. And as the moon started to rise, Ferris started to snore, dreaming about next time when the fair would come, and all the fun things he would do next year.” Marking the end with the close of the book, Joyce looked at the sweetly sleeping girl. “Goodnight, my princess...” In a hushed voice, Joyce made her final coos as she finally turned off the light, closing the door just slightly behind her. She looked at the time on her phone disappointingly. She knew if she wanted to make some real headway tonight, she’d probably be sleeping in a little later tomorrow… She’d definitely be up before Emily though. Knowing her, that was practically a given. Everything that needed to go into the nursery would have to wait until tomorrow, considering a certain someone was currently sleeping inside of it. She could at least group everything by the door in the meantime. Rolling up her sleeves, she set out to work. It was strange to be back in panties again, even if she didn’t want to admit it. How could it not be strange? Several inches of thickness and absorbency were suddenly gone, and you also suddenly knew what it was like to press your thighs together again. Panties had their unique comforts as well, though. As well. She hated to phrase it like that, because that meant she was admitting to some benefits in wearing diapers, which unfortunately wasn’t totally false... Right now though, she probably did look like a kid that just got her toilet license, considering she was lifting the hem of her sundress right now to see how they looked. No more cartoon characters, and definitely no tapes to keep them attached to her waist. Simple, mature colors and designs; something she was much more familiar with. “You know you shouldn’t be doing that around anyone else other than me, right?” Still holding it up, she looked over to Joyce who was currently carrying a small box of baby items. Putting two and two together a little too late, Emily finally let go of her dress and it fell back into place with a blush. “I was just looking, that’s all...” “I can imagine it feels a little weird after going for more than 24 hours in diapers. How do you feel?” “Fine, I guess.” How else was she supposed to feel? Good? Bad? She didn’t feel anything. It was just another day, and another outfit at this point. “By the way, why do I have to wear a dress?” Emily looked down at herself, and then into the nursery mirror a tad bit nervously. “Doesn’t it make me look a little immature?” Joyce paused behind her in front of the mirror, giving the sight a much more satisfied look. “No one said you had to wear it, you know?” “Then why did you pick it out for me?” Emily slightly swung her hips, watching the loose ends swish to her sways. “Because I did? In the end, you’re the one who put it on!” “Fine! I’ll go put some jeans and a shirt on, then,” with exaggerated marches, something a diaper didn’t allow her the liberty of, she walked to what would be her room for only a few more hours. “But,” Joyce’s sudden words halted Emily. “I think looking cute for my parents would do for a really good first impression? Remember? My dad always had a soft spot for me! Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he has a soft spot for cute things in general...” An obvious escape from her true feelings, Emily excused herself with a sharp right down the hall, avoiding the room which would let her reclaim maturity, as well as the nursery that would mean admitting a lack thereof. “...I’ll go get the highchair.” Joyce silently giggled, knowing full well what’d just happened. Clearly she liked the dress, and Joyce did too, but only one of them was brave enough to admit it. “Just grab the tray, okay?” Joyce called down the hall. “I’ll get the heavier part!” Unfortunately it wasn’t an opportunity for Emily to figure out how the tray unlocked because it’d already been done for her. Something told her that later down the line it would be one of her final regrets. Already she’d been toyed with mercilessly. The tickles and misfire with the pancake already were giving her PTSD. She lifted the white, plastic tray and carried it by her side down the hall. “Just set it down in the closet against the wall. There’s plenty of space in there.” The last bit came off as both a positive and a negative. There was the perk of being able to house more baby items, but that also meant a lack of clothes in Emmy’s wardrobe. Maybe there would be time to visit Amy this week… The heavier part came next, both by the help of Joyce and Emily, proving it to be an effective team effort as they disassembled as much as they could to fit it through the door frame. “Done and done!” Joyce clasped her hands as she briefly admired their handiwork, closing the nursery’s closet, and finally the nursery itself. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want before I lock up?” “Actually, you’re right! I’m gonna need a few diapers, at least,” Emily said with joking exaggeration. Joyce looked at her for a moment, then was already re-opening the door. “Wait, wait!” She looked back. “I was...kidding...” “I figured you were,” Joyce laughed, and Emily looked at her menacingly. “...Meanie.” “You know it’s because I love you, though!” Joyce leaned in for a kiss on her forehead, which Emily did accept, but then finally felt a sense of relief once she heard the twist of the key, and knew for sure that their secret was safe. “Relieved?” “Definitely,” Emily sighed. She looked around their immediate surroundings one last time, trying to find any sort of miniscule detail that might betray their efforts to cover up everything entirely. Thankfully Mr. Bear couldn’t cause any more havoc than he already had. He was trapped in a place where his screams would never reach the surface... Emily quickly shook the thought out of her head. Clearly her mindset was still in another place. Taking a note from the blank white door shrouding a rabbit hole of fantasy and fetish, she tried to leave the childishness by the entrance. “It’ll be fun, okay? Tonight’s gonna be great, and so is the one after that, and then the next one too.” “Are you gonna be able to get all that time off?” “Maybe not all of it, but I can definitely finish things up a bit early at the office. Don’t miss me too much, now.” Emily stuck her tongue out mockingly, and Joyce only laughed as they moved into the guest room. “Alright, the final, final thing we need to do is move your clothes.” Joyce had already opened one of the drawers. “Are you sure there’s enough space for me in your room?” Emily didn’t sound especially overconfident anymore. “What if my clothes don’t fit?” “Trust me, they will. It forced me to toss a few things that I haven’t touched in years, anyways. Honestly, I don’t even know how some of it survived when I first moved here.” She took a moment to consider her personal mishaps, then doubled down on the task at hand. Between the two of them, it only took a handful of trips with a handful of clothes between each of them. Since her visit to Jack’s, her wardrobe had returned to not only its original size, but also took on the addition of Joyce’s plentiful generosity, near doubling what she had. There was a fine line between what you could see was hers, and what was a gift from Joyce. All you needed to do was look at the info tags or the logos on some of the clothing. The price was certainly telling enough. “Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve never been in your room before?” Stepping inside for the first time, Emily was treated to the final room of the apartment she had yet to see. “Well, it’s not much, but it’s mine I suppose.” “Not much?” Emily silently muttered, taking in the wonderful sight. It was just about as big as the ‘guest room,’ if not bigger, and had a relatively similar setup. The theme in here was more along the lines of light grays accented by purples, especially evident in the comforter, and also in the blinds. Her room didn’t have a balcony, but instead made up for it in a small stretch of window reaching from the floor to the ceiling which covered the span of the bed. It allowed a breathtaking view out into the city and onto the street, and though it didn’t seem like much right now, it surely must have been magical at night. She had her own closet, dresser, and although much smaller, still a personal bathroom. A tv was mounted to the wall on the opposite side of the room, and on either side of the bed was a nightstand. The bed was just as big as the one she’d been sleeping in, and there seemed to be a few more extra pillows to boot! Wait, of all things, why did that excite her? “Think you’ll manage with me in here for a few nights?” Emily responded by faceplanting into the bed. The give and slight bounce to her collision was naturally the only way you can truly test the worth of a mattress, and resoundingly satisfied, she said with a muffled voice, “Yes, I think this is acceptable!” She felt the remnants of last night on her cheek as it nuzzled into the comforter, brushing her hand across the cool material and feeling the slight fuzz of tiny, miniscule fibres sticking outwards. “Well it’s not time for bed yet,” Joyce finished sorting both of their piles and was just about to pull Emily back up, though she managed herself. “A few more trips ought to do it.” The pair went back and forth, and forth and back, only now Emily helped with the sorting rather than taking so much stock in Joyce’s bed. Along the way, she kept admiring all the smaller details of the room, slowly digesting what made Joyce into the person she was, or at least defined her character. From the walls, to the floor, though maybe those parts weren’t so telling… How she arranged her room and decorated her smaller bits was a bit more of a story. A stand was placed underneath the tv, providing some relief to the empty space that would’ve been there. Knick knacks decorated the top of it with a few photos of scenery, a strange, metallic sphere that seemed slightly bigger than Emily’s hand, and a couple of books neatly stacked on one another. “Emily?” “Huh?” She turned her head to Joyce and the dresser, noting there was still a small amount of clothes left. “I think I may have lied about space… I guess I didn’t realize you had so many clothes.” She then looked at her judgingly. “Are you sure you don’t have a shopping problem?” Emily’s eye nearly twitched. “Gee, I wonder who got me so many.” “Obviously yourself,” Joyce with a ‘huff’ continued to play into the joke, which Emily found just as funny as slightly annoying. They both very well knew who was the reason for her massively expanded wardrobe, and the thought of trying to shift the credibility onto Emily was a huge no-no. “Well, it’s not like I’ll need everything, right?” While Emily openly spoke, she did a slight twirl from heel to heel, pivoting from foot to foot as she neared the fullbody window closer and closer. “No, I think what we have is plenty, too. I’ll just slip these into the nursery then.” It must have been a pile Emily threw together, because Joyce didn’t recognize it, and Emily admittedly gave up on folding by the end of it. A few shirts covered the lot of items, but considering where it was going it’s not like they needed to be tidied. Just as Joyce was locking up the nursery for the last and final time, Emily drifted into the hall. “And you’re positive they won’t find out?” “Absolutely, whole-heartedly, one-hundred percentu...ally!” The sudden devolvement in her speech naturally had Emily shifting gears, far too busy to worry over things when there was stuff too funny not to smile over. And the reassurance was definitely needed, but it still didn’t feel like enough. “Where are we gonna put the key though?” Emily started to look nervous again. “What if they ask about what’s inside the room?” The much calmer and collected one then said, “We just tell them it’s meant for storage. It originally was, you know? I mean, it always worked on you?” Stupidity then followed on Emily’s part, realizing that she was in fact practical enough to believe that. It probably was storage at one point, but Emily couldn’t say with confidence as to when it stopped being that. Regardless, even if it didn’t make sense, some part of her wanted to believe that Joyce’s parents wouldn’t be satisfied by such a simple answer. They’d crave details, asking, “Oh, but Joyce? How could it possibly be for just storage? Whatever could there be inside of it that you’d need to lock away? Why, if I didn’t know any better, this would clearly be the perfect setup for a nursery; obviously meant for Emily! It makes too much-” She nearly hit her head off the wall trying to drop the stupid notion. And why did she give their voices an accent inside her head? Such an oddball… Did her parents even have an accent? Probably as much as Joyce did, which was none, but then again, things like that tend to become watered down the further you fall from the tree. A slow, pulsing beep could be heard from down the hall. Emily jumped, not because she was scared, but because she’d never heard that noise once before. Her heart started to beat uncomfortably, because even if she didn’t know what it meant, her body had a foreboding guess as to what it meant. Joyce looked more confused than anything, but that only lasted for a second when awkward surprise and confusion took its place. “Well it’s a good thing we finished up early...” Joyce said, taking her turn to be relieved. She checked her phone then with a slightly urgent pace walked past Emily and down the hall. “Ugh, for once can’t my mom get a time right?” If there was any room left for doubt, Joyce’s complaint was the final sign. “Wait! You mean they’re outside right now?” “We can’t say for sure, I mean, it may not even be them… But if I had to guess...” Emily followed her into the shoe area in front of the entrance, and could see her looking into a small console attached to the wall. Joyce pressed her finger to a button and spoke clearly. “Charles? You’re a bit early, aren’t you?” Emily could hear his voice play back through the intercom. “I understand Ms. Summers, but I suppose their plane landed early. They’re waiting in the car right now. Should I send them up?” “Landed early,” Joyce lightly mocked. “It’s like honesty’s the last thing on her mind...” Rolling her eyes, she pressed down on the button again. “You can send them up now, unless you feel like driving in a circle for a few hours?” “I...can do that, if you wish?” “No, no,” as if he could read her face through the one-way display, Joyce shook her head. “Sorry, just a bad joke. Thank you already for the time you’ve given me today on your day off. Please, just unload their bags, let them inside and send them up. Again, I can’t appreciate this enough.” “No problem at all. Have a good weekend, Ms. Summers!” “Thanks Charles, you too.” Joyce finally turned from the console and moved over to Emily, suddenly hugging her by the waist. “Not that I mind, but, why are you hugging me?” “No reason,” she looked down at her and smiled. “Just felt like it.” “Aren’t they here really early though?” “Yes,” she said begrudgingly. “They are.” “You don’t sound very happy to see them?” “No! No, it’s not that,” she sighed. “I am happy. It’s just one of my mom’s habits, that’s all. To be honest I should have been expecting this. 1 o’clock in her world is probably landing at 11 and meandering for a few more. Clearly she didn’t feel like doing the second part...” “Is being early a bad thing?” “Being early is perfectly fine in my book, only when we can afford to lose that kind of time. If they showed up any earlier I probably wouldn’t have been joking when I said that to Charles.” Her hand brushed the outer part of her pants, feeling the slight bump that matched the outline of the key. As the minutes ticked away, and the inevitable was finally arriving on their doorstep, Emily was feeling the need for a hug too. No matter how many times she told herself that there was no reason to be nervous, of course she’d drum up a thousand reasons that existed purely for shock factor. A pair of faint, yet growing voices could be heard from the outside hall. “Are you sure it’s this floor? I could have sworn he said the 27th.” They sounded headstrong in their own opinion, even if it was wrong. The kind of captain that’d go down with their ship. “Hon, he said apartment 3702, not the 27th floor. Which one is it though?” The voice was deep, with the slightest tinge of age to it. “Odds are on the right, even on the left. Just wait, we’re gonna knock on a complete stranger’s door! We should call Joyce and double check the number.” “Something tells me she won’t be happy about how early we are...” Meanwhile, Joyce give Emily a stare that said everything, as she walked over to the door, slowly turning the knob. Before the female voice could respond, Joyce stuck her head in the crack of the door, too small for Emily to see through as she kept her distance, well inside the apartment. She could see Joyce turn her head from left to right though. “Honey, you’re right!” The male voice exclaimed. “There’s one of her neighbors! I told you we were being too loud!” “What do you mean?” the voice shot back defensively. “Oh...” the heat in her voice seemed to tone down as if she were turning to a different speaker. Probably Joyce. “I’m very sorry about my husban… Joyce!” as if they’d just seen her now, they spoke in a delightful surprise. “Hey mom, hey dad!” Joyce greeted them excitedly. “But in all seriousness, we probably should get inside before mom gets too loud...” “What do you mean too loud? You should tell that to your father. That man has a set of chords on him that make a drum sound like a high-pitched squeal...” the funny banter started to die down as the voices came closer, and Emily could slowly see the door open, as two more figures were introduced. “Anyways, give me a hug, you! It’s been too long!” Joyce’s hand fell off the door as she was suddenly taken in for a hug by someone other than Emily. Someone actually Joyce’s exact height. Just when her face was briefly over Joyce’s shoulder, Emily could see her faded, yet still clearly blonde hair and older face still a close neighbor to when it was once youthful. Her face looked incredibly similar to Joyce’s! Well, considering things genetically, it was actually the opposite, but it didn’t detract from how they certainly looked related. Emily was so busy seeing what her mom looked like, she didn’t even realize when she was looking back at Emily. Her eyes seemed to have a frightening sparkle in them, and Emily could already feel the woman’s desire to smother her. When they ended their hug, surprisingly, she didn’t pounce for Emily, thankfully, and instead waited for her husband, Joyce’s dad to have his turn. If Emily thought Joyce and her mom were tall, she was sorely mistaken. Add half another head to the gap Emily already had with the two other women, and there would be Joyce’s dad. His shortly cut hair looked as if it were struggling between trying to be black or brown, as the pair had struck a compromise on simply really dark brown. Lighter hairs were checkered throughout, and the thin shade of facial hair wrapped around the lower end of his face looked salt and peppered too. From Emily’s perspective it looked as if Joyce had finally met her match in terms of height, but what did that say then about Emily’s predicament? Now she felt even more vertically challenged. “How’ve you been, kiddo?” “I’ve been good, dad!” She happily hugged him back. “How about you?” “Meh, you know me. Same old same old.” “Mom told me you’re still doing cooking events?” “‘Course I am! Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I stopped being a chef!” Joyce chipperly agreed as they finally let each other go. His figure now in full view was as lean as a man his age could be. Though his metabolism was probably on its tail end of a healthy life well-lived, he certainly didn’t seem to take it for granted, minus a little bit of leniency for dad bod, of course. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, along with a pair of sizeable suitcases by his side. Joyce glanced over to her mom, who looked to be ready to burst, and she knew exactly why. While Emily was still silent with her apprehensive observations, even Joyce’s dad gave her a glance and a smile, but he probably kept his true self reserved out of respect. His wife was probably a little too overzealous right now to consider that. “Now mom, you need to promise me that you’re not going to bite,” Joyce said jokingly, but also, not so jokingly… She looked over to Joyce with a frown. “Really? You think I travelled to the other side of the country just to eat your girlfriend?” She brushed her shoulders as if the insult had left a mark. “Maybe a nibble or two, at least...” “Emily,” Joyce was finally the first to call to her, forcing the personal reminder that she indeed, was able to speak. She looked to Joyce with a sense of alertness, as Joyce gestured one hand to her dad, and the other two her mom. “Meet my parents!” School plays were the worst. Productions centered around amateur students who either had the ambition but not the skill, or the kids without a single interest or acting bone in their body. Weeks would be spent preparing for such an important showcase; a culmination of practice, repetition, presentation, and skill, even if there was little to begin with. She could see herself on stage right now, dressed in the farmer’s overalls, facing an expectant audience, waiting for her cue to speak. And it had come, but the words wouldn’t. Weeks. Countless hours spent each and every day trying to remember and recite something that was so simple and so basic. Trained on a never-ending loop, just so that in a moment like this, you need only turn over a few stones to find the words carved into your skull. But of course, in a stereotypical fashion she would forget. Mr. Pig would never be told to get back into his pen, and Mrs. Forrs wouldn’t scold her for being such a mean farmer. Her mouth moved slightly, but no sound came from it. Her array of social skills suddenly fell apart, and the sheer shock of the situation was enough to crumble her very foundation of human interaction. She scoured throughout her head for something intelligible to do or say; anything that would signify a proper greeting! God, why was she freezing up? Think! Think! Quickly, she took one of her hands into the other placing them in front of herself. Then what surprised everyone in the room, though especially Emily and Joyce, was when from the waist up she bent forward at a 45 degree angle. Whilst Joyce was thinking to herself, sh...she bowed…? “N-nice to meet you!” She spoke in a slightly rushed voice, realizing the mistake later than she could correct it. “My name is Emily...” Obviously falling back on her most primitive form of basic introductions, she nearly added her last name too. What was she doing?! She almost didn’t stand up straight, because surely then they’d see her face was as bright as a tomato. It was already a shaky start, but she’d certainly ruined her chances at mutual respect with this blunder. A deadly silence seeped into the room, and just a second elapsed was plenty lethal enough. “Oooh. So formal!” Joyce’s mom suddenly said in fascination, finally taking the attention off of Emily’s shoulders as all heads turned to her. Emily nearly laughed at her own insanity. She’s pitying me… The only male in the room cleared his throat, “Definitely!” He gave a pleasant smile. “But Emily, really,” he chuckled. “We’re not that special, but we appreciate your hospitality.” Emily slowly raised her head, still feeling the warmth radiate from her cheeks. Apparently it wasn’t as damaged as she thought, because the overwhelming dread of judgement and ridicule hadn’t fallen over her. Although it started as a trickle, Emily could feel a sense of self flowing back to her as her vocabulary and rationale expanded to what it should be. “S...sorry about that,” trying not to sound nervous, she laughed. “It’s a bad habit of mine. My mom is Japanese, so uh, she used to have me formally greet our Japanese side of the family.” “Don’t sweat it,” he smiled once again, oddly making Emily feel a slight bit calmer. “Thank you again for your respect!” “You never bowed to me when we first met...” Joyce said in a brief, jokingly pouty voice, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It definitely worked though, because Emily couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh, I can’t wait anymore!” Joyce’s mom suddenly exploded in a small burst of frustration, as her flats rushed across the floor and closed the gap between her and Emily in mere moments. Her arms wrapped around Emily in whole, her arms included. Trapped in the cocoon known as Joyce’s mom’s arms, she felt herself squeezed all over. “Emmy it’s so great to finally meet you! You’re the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!” E..Emmy? Emily slightly leaned her head past the woman and looked at Joyce with worried eyes. Worried for an endless list of reasons, the first on the list being the sudden physical affection she was now being given. “Ah, hon,” her husband thankfully came to Emily’s rescue, tapping her on the shoulder. “Mom!” Joyce near-hissed, much less reserved than her dad. “You can’t just smother her like that!” Her mom finally relented, as Emily could feel some air getting back into her lungs. At least now she knew where Joyce got her affectionate side from… She looked as if she only acknowledged Emily’s presence right then, as she apologized in a much more relaxed tone. “I’m very sorry about that Emmy, but I’ve been waiting quite a bit to do that… You know how it can be.” No, she didn’t, at least she thought, but her mom spoke as if the feeling justified her actions. “You know we got lucky when Hannah decided to stick with our son after meeting you,” her husband joked, but given the depth of his voice, he almost sounded serious. “Oh quit it, you! She’ll really start to think I’m some sort of creep or something,” she looked back to Emily as reassurance. “I promise, I’m not.” Clearly meant as a joke, Emily still nodded as if it were crucial information. “By the way, Mom,” Joyce finally interjected. “Why are you calling her Emmy? Her name is Emily.” “What do you mean?” She looked over to Joyce as if she were in the wrong. “I heard you call her that over the phone?” All three relevant female figures in the room then remembered the night in question that Emily was sick and wandered into the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you that you misheard me? It’s Emily.” “Fine, fine, but what’s the harm in a nickname? If you won’t say it, then I will. I think it’s cute,” she turned back to Emily. “You don’t mind the name, do you hon?” Emily didn’t know if she was genuinely being asked or coerced into a binding contract. Just as she was going to look over to the visibly annoyed Joyce for help, the wife’s retainer once again reeled her in. “Mary, you need to give Emily some space to breathe. I think she’s about to be shell-shocked if you keep the pressure like this.” Clearly she didn’t like to be told ‘no,’ but she did seem to listen to reason as she let the topic go. “Sorry about that, Emily. She tends to get excited when meeting new people.” “Don’t worry about it!” Emily gave the best smile she could; a few blocks down from a totally genuine one, considering how mixed her emotions were right now. Everything was either of positivity or pure confusion. And no offense to Joyce’s mom, but Emily was currently favoring the dad right about now… “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you guys as well.” That comment had both parents smiling. “And you,” Joyce accusingly notioned to her mom, who looked back with confusion over the tone. “Do you know what time it is right now?” “What? Maybe a half-past twelve? Noon at most?” “It’s a few minutes past eleven!” Quietly, Joyce’s dad moved on over to Emily’s side, making her look like a middle schooler at best. “This can happen every now and then...” he explained to Emily in a hushed voice, who quietly nodded, listening on as well. “Isn’t that good? So we’re an hour early? That means we can do more stuff today!” “An hour?!” Joyce raised her voice, just like her mom, “You told me the plane was going to land at one! Do you know how lucky you are that Charles was there early?” “And we were very generous with his tip,” her mother said contently. “I really don’t see the issue. Everything worked out, didn’t it?” Normally Joyce wouldn’t have been happy to hear that Charles was tipped. She paid him more than enough than to be tipped by the people he drives. When it involved working with her mother though, Joyce unfortunately felt that it was appropriate. “This time, it did,” Joyce bitterly remarked. Probably a perk to their mother-daughter bond was how expressive they could be with the other and not fear hurting the other’s feelings. Emily watched in mild fascination, finally seeing their exchanges in the flesh rather than over the phone. “We just finished clearing out a room for you guys, you know? I was ready to have him make you guys circle the block until we were ready to send you guys up.” She looked over to her dad. “No offense, dad.” “None taken.” Both parties seemed to be calming down, as in the end what was done was done, and everything did work out by the end of it all. With one last sigh the pair hugged again. “We’ve only seen the entrance, but your new apartment looks very nice, by the way!” Mary (Joyce’s mom) said, even with just a view of the lowered slate floor meant for shoes, and the slightest sliver of the living room on one end and the kitchen on the other in the hallway. “We get by,” Joyce said simply, finally rolling in their suitcases, feeling slightly sheepish about just only closing the door now after all that turmoil… Hopefully she wouldn’t get a noise complaint… “How was the flight?” “Nothing too bad. Your dad managed to get a good deal for business class,” her husband took a moment to look particularly proud, causing Emily by his side to involuntarily smirk. “Nothing too bad.” “Well that’s good. I wouldn’t have minded getting you guys tickets, you know? That way I could, you know, actually figure out for when you’d be coming?” Obviously she wasn’t totally okay with the early arrival bit. Maybe not so much that, but decades of random disregards for a schedule or date had her simply predisposed to be strict with her mother. “We appreciate the offer dear, but you’ve helped us more than enough. We always had a secure retirement, you just helped us make it a bit more...lavish?” “And you said they’re always like that?” Emily looked up to Joyce’s dad. “One minute it could be like that, and the next right back to a fight...” “They sound like sisters...” “Who knows?” The two laughed, and with the volume of the dad’s voice, Joyce and Mary couldn’t help but notice. “Seems like they’re getting along,” Mary passively said to Joyce, pleased with the sight. Joyce looked back to her with a smirk. “Something tells me though you two might not come so easily.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She looked to Joyce questioningly, but then they shared a laugh too. What they understood as sarcasm and genuine flame and fire was something only years of parenting and daughtering could realize. People like Emily and Joyce’s dad could only observe and take notes as they try to decipher a bond that transcended common sense. “So one last time,” Joyce turned back to Emily. “Emily, meet my parents, Mary and Frank. Mom, dad, meet Emily.” All three exchanged greetings one last time, though without the formal bow from Emily this time. “Feel free to call me Mom, though!” Mary added with a smile, whilst the other two apart from Emily gave her suggestive stares. “Do you guys want to see your room?” Joyce broke the tension unbeknownst to her mom. “I can give you the tour once you’re unpacked.” “That sounds like a good place to start,” her dad agreed. “Let me just get our...” “Oh! Your bags,” Emily suddenly trying to be helpful hopped onto the slate floor with her bare feet, taking one of the suitcases with both hands. It came nearly up to her waist and even on wheels when she tried to move it the weight was beyond evident. It was heavy, but she wasn’t going to call it quits after already offering. “Emm-ily, you might want to let Frank take that one. I’m not the lightest packer...” Joyce’s mom with a sudden sense of concern almost intercepted the girl as she maneuvered the case. Emily almost grunted as she moved it. The woman definitely didn’t pack light, but again, Emily didn’t want to waste her gesture. “No, really! It’s fine. I’ve got it.” She wheeled it over to the greatest challenge: the tiny ledge separating the shoe area, and the raised wooden floor where only socks and bare feet could roam. It was minor, of course, but when considering Emily’s physical strength coupled with a heavy suitcase, it wasn’t too far from a recipe for disaster… “Emily, why don’t you let my dad get that?” Joyce like her mother wasn’t feeling too enthusiastic about the challenge either. She knew her heart was in the right place, but still… “All I need to do is...” Certainly struggling, she brought it up to the ledge, trying desperately to lift the ten ton tank on wheels, wooden floor slightly hung over the slate floor, and the front wheels were getting caught on it. She turned her back to the case as she tried to pull it forward. Someone other than Emily finally took action though, as Frank got behind the suitcase, giving the bottom a slight lift and a push for Emily’s sake. It definitely cleared the gap, with the whole system had so much momentum combined, she hadn’t seen the sudden boost in speed coming as she quickly let go of the suitcase and stumbled forward, slipping on the smooth floor. It was close to being a repeat of last night, only that her hands caught the floor before her nose did. “Emily!” Two voices in unison spoke with urgency as Joyce and Mary were both by her side. “Are you alright?” Joyce was the first to ask. Clearly embarrassed, she nodded her head, almost immediately regretting her determination to be helpful. “Yeah, didn’t hit my nose this time?” She spoke as if it were a silver lining, and Joyce chuckled while Mary still looked concerned. “What does she mean ‘this time’? Oh, and Emmy hon, you might want to fix your dress...” Emily spun her head behind her, and suddenly realized why it suddenly felt slightly cooler on the upper parts of her thighs. With the bottom half of her sundress thrown about because of her own antics, her pantied bottom was on display for everyone to see. Before she could herself, Mary fixed it for her; an even worse fate than fixing it herself. Trying not to look at her, namely because of how hard she was blushing, Emily muttered a thank you. “Just let my husband take the bags from here on out, okay? You’ve got gusto though,” she chuckled, “I’ll give ya that.” Gusto unfortunately didn’t feel very appropriate for how she was feeling right now, as she could feel herself desperately wanting to shrink into nothingness and vanish. Not only had she messed up her greeting, but she just flashed Joyce’s parents as well! She’d much rather be caught in panties than the alternative, though… Still, those ‘mature’ designs she was talking about earlier quickly started to feel only so when compared to her diapers. Why? Why did she have to be wearing the ones with the stripes?!

Heyo! Thanks for mentioning that point, and I agree with you that Joyce by now needed a little bit more to her character. I definitely consider this a story with two protagonists, even if on the surface it seems like the most is happening to Emily. How the pair develops is what's most important to me, and I wanted to open this chapter with something that's almost like a life without Emily, or a time before she came into the picture. Since the call with her mother about accidentally revealing Emily, it's been made clear Joyce has her own insecurities and can also see she's definitely projecting her best self almost at all times. That's definitely who she is as a person, at least around Emily, but she definitely has her own issues as well. And as you said, I wanted to try and make her seem a little bit more relatable, at least in the emotional sense. Thanks a ton for commenting! No, you're not missing anything, trust me. I'm the one who missed a line break, separating the memory from the present. My bad! ? Sometimes I can be moving a bit too fast with these postings, and here I am paying the price. Sorry about that. Just to clarify, Emily isn't in the flashback at any point. It ends when Joyce is laying in the bed. I've added the break to make that explicitly clear now, which is what I should have done before. Thanks for catching my mistake! Thanks for commenting! As for your questions about Joyce...well, there will likely be a few more flashbacks down the road, but there's already a decent amount to infer right now I would say. Given the way Joyce felt from the flashback, we know that she is indeed lonely but still craves for social interaction and eventually a relationship. She alludes to it when talking about how she hoped Amy's advice could reach her, that she wanted the type of relationship she has now: mommy and her baby. As for where that desire came from in the first place? I'm not sure if there will be a concrete answer, but I might leave a breadcrumb trail as the story continues. Also, thanks for the bit about the "runaway toddler." That one came from a spur of the moment. I plan to add some more kiddish and playful scenes like that in the future. Glad you're enjoying! Dun dunn dunnn! Her parents! An impending doom! Or is it? Her parents will be here sooner than you think, but until they are, all we can do is speculate... Though, there might be a little chaos involved... Happy to hear you're enjoying it, and thanks for commenting! It means a ton! ? Thanks for commenting!

? Thanks a ton! I hope you continue to enjoy reading! 18 - Tub Time The tiny bronze bell jingled and jangled as a pair of brisk heels shifted from concrete steps and over to a polished floor. The blaring noises and shining sun on the backs of her heels dulled as the door closed She gave the victorian-styled shop a few simple glances, but with an overall indifferent attitude, moved over to the finished wooden counter. The hum of cars and beeps of horns polluted just the outer edge of the shop and unapologetically rapped against the glass. Mannequins in their plastic poses flashed their cloth trinkets, each one dressed and decorated in some form of fashion. One brandished a two-piece suit, and the other a simple, yet elegant, red party dress. The last was what could be best described as casual high fashion; wrapped in a scarf, small jacket, pants similar to, but not quite jeans, and some form of a shoe the spectator really couldn’t care to identify. The kind of fashion you needed to be rich enough to understand. The vibrant, yet synthetic displays beckoned for the attention; just to have a pair of eyes ogle their most defining features. The freedom to express was as much their own as the ability to hear, think, feel, and speak. Despite being of such rigid and regulated mindsets, the customer looked on with envy. Bundled at her side was the fur-lined jacket she’d just removed, trying to alleviate herself from the newfound warmth in the shop. Underneath she wore a blouse, and her face was dolled up in the kind of makeup that screamed business and professionalism. Her face stayed neutral, and harbored little enthusiasm. There was little expression at all. No indication of anything, really. After a thoughtful glance and her phone, and allowing an exact minute to go by, she let a small sigh as she pressed the tiny head to the second bell on the desk. A ding rang with a considerably higher pitch compared to the doorbell, but lasted half as long. “Coming! Coming!” With each frantic response, the distance between the two closed further and further. While the customer waited, she’d taken to admiring the countless rolls of fabric stored inside the wall. Admiring may have been too strong of a word. Observing them, at least. The door behind the desk suddenly opened, and a face familiar from countless business dealings had emerged. With a pencil sticking from her ear, and her blonde, shiny hair tied back, she raised the rimmed glasses she was wearing just the slightest bit. “Joyce! How have you been?” The looming gray over her expression seemed to fade somewhat, as an albeit small, yet sunshine crept between Joyce’s sealed lips, and a true smile came. “I’ve been fine, Amy. And you?” “Same old same old, I guess,” her pupils drifted to the upper right as if it reflected her thought process. Then she looked at Joyce with a puzzled look. “I can’t remember, was I supposed to have something ready for you?” She partly chuckled, as her confusion managed a lasting smirk on Joyce. The mental image of her spacious office, and empty home started to fade the slightest bit. If she had any real friend, surely it was Amy. The one and only person she had a soft spot for. She slightly laughed herself, as she seemed angry with herself for letting the same trick get her time and time again. “No, did you already forget? I thought I said I needed to be remeasured?” Once clueless, her eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh! Right! You have a dinner coming up in a few months, right? Did you want something new altogether?” “Ideally, yes,” Joyce spoke with a slight passiveness, already trying to formulate the perfect image in her mind. What would be appropriate? Taking the business climate and occasion into account, she at least knew where to start. Then again, Amy usually handled the creative process for her. Then she looked at Amy disapprovingly. “You didn’t schedule something over me, did you?” “Other than getting a coffee started without you? Nope!” She lifted the side panel of the desk. “Come into the back. We can get started right away.” The pair’s heels clicked to their own tunes as they moved into the back. Joyce had already set her jacket on the sofa, and was stepping out of her heels. “Not that I mind, and from one friend to another, why did you want to be remeasured?” Amy asked, already sifting through her small basket. With her small roll of measuring tape, she turned back to the CEO who was already unbuttoning her shirt. “I’ve been doing a bit more exercise lately,” without giving Amy her full attention, she unzipped her skirt next. Considering the bitter cold outside, it was at times like these she hated being a slave to business culture. Forget the stockings, she may as well have been naked from the waist down when it came to the wind and freezing temperatures. The seasons were ever-changing, but the clothing expectations always seemed to remain static. Or at the very least, no theme seemed to appeal to the winter… “I just want to make sure I still fit my normal sizes?” Amy silently gave her figure a split-second scan.“I can understand that. Should I get something started for you too, by the way?” She gestured to the stairs leading up to her apartment. “I don’t mind making you a drink too.” “I’ll take a coffee after,” Joyce fixed her hair as in just her underwear she stepped onto the small platform, looking into the mirrors. “Am I good to go?” Amy wrapped the tape around her skin in various places, capturing all the digits that defined her as a person. With the most recent numbers by her side, Amy had supplemented her last few suspicions with visual truths. The measurements hadn’t deviated much really at all, but for the kind of money Joyce paid, the deviations were by a significant margin. “You know, if the whole CEO thing doesn’t work out, I’d say you’d make a pretty good model for a magazine or fashion in general.” Amy eyed her with the look of an inspired artist. “I could always hire you as a mannequin?” Craning her neck back, Joyce looked down on her backside. “...I’ll keep it in mind, but right now I think I prefer the entrepreneurship kind of business.” Taking advantage of the mirror, Joyce had taken to adjusting her hair the slightest bit. “You’d be pretty surprised...” underneath her subject’s arm and close to her waist, Amy eyed the amount of inches with squinting eyes. “Fashion can be a dangerous game!” “Really.” Her words carried off into the void. It wasn’t a question, or rebuttal to Amy’s claim. Her bland response killed what small talk they had going, and the rest of the review went on in silence. “There is some difference...” Amy glanced from an old page to the new. “But not a terrible lot. Are you sure you want me to use these numbers? Didn’t you say it was a few months from now? Shouldn’t I expect an even greater difference then?” About a second went by until Joyce had responded. “...I’ll have it fitted from there. I just felt like setting a new baseline, that’s all.” “That’s all?” Amy muttered in a lowered voice, clearly unconvinced. And as Joyce remained still on the platform, with no one watching Amy’s face, the corners of her mouth slowly rose as Joyce’s intentions were as bare as her skin. With money being no object to Joyce, trivial visits like these were considered more of a social gathering interaction than a sizeable bill. If it only took a thousand to schedule a simple chat, or the company of a friend, even if Joyce wasn’t honest with herself, clearly she was willing to go through with it. “A new baseline? You mean to tell me I reserved 45 minutes of my day just for me to spend only 10 of them measuring you?” Suddenly flustered a tad bit, clearly hitting a sore spot, Joyce looked finally from the mirror and to Amy. “W-well...what do you care?” she countered with shaky nerves that did a poor job of shrouding the truth. “You’ll get paid.” With a small ‘hmmf,’ Joyce curtly turned herself back to her clothes and started to dress herself again. “You drink yours black, right?” “...Yes.” “Just tell me if you want to chat for a while. I’m not cheap, but you don’t need to buy my friendship, you know?” Genuinely trying to play dumb, Joyce feigned ignorance, saying, “What are you talking about? I just didn’t know how long it’d take.” Her hand clutched the jacket’s arm. “But I guess you’re right, there is a bit of time left. Forget the coffee, I’ll just head back early,” after finishing putting the rest of her clothes on, Joyce already turned swiftly for the door. “Wait.” Amy spoke simply, and without even giving her a meager glance. And Joyce did so, reluctantly, yet ultimately turning back to the couch. So little was Joyce ever talked to as an equal, and ordered around like this. She hated it, namely because it meant that they knew her down to a ‘T.’ Considering Amy knew her cup size, that probably made sense… They saw past the empire she had built and what might she wielded. Rather than the hard facts and monumental numbers, they saw her in a light where she was stripped of all superficial qualities. Without her highrise, she was nothing more than a cocky and crude unpleasantry, which is why it was so hard for her to stay that way like this. “Pretend all you want, but you’re a pretty bad liar. At least when it comes to this stuff,” Amy snickered as she briefly excused herself. She supposed the one perk to black coffee was how she could make it without even intending to. It was the same recipe as her own brew, except all you needed to do was stop at step 1: make the coffee. Joyce with an annoyed sigh quit while she was behind, and waited until Amy came back down with two mugs in hand. “So, what’s new?” Joyce accepted the warm mug. “Nothing noteworthy, I guess. I just moved into my new apartment about a week ago.” “Oooh. Anything nice about it?” “I guess.” She didn’t seem to look so enthusiastic about her monumental purchase. “Once you pass a certain price threshold, they’re all nice, I suppose.” It’s all it ever was. The same bells and whistles across the board, just under a different roof and different by a margin of a mere couple tens or few hundred thousands of dollars… Nothing that really affected the numbers too much. “I guess,” Amy mimicked in a mocking voice, sipping from her mug. Joyce stared with a mindful look, trying to determine if she should be offended or not. “Really? Tell me more!” Amy slightly shook Joyce’s knee with her hand. “How many rooms does it have? Bathrooms? A garage? Balcony?” “Two bedrooms. Well,” she paused, “three, I guess, but only two were furnished to begin with… I don’t think I’ll bother with the third.” The empty white walls echoed in her head. “How’s the bathroom?” “Good. Better than my last place, I’ll give it that. It’s one of those models where the showerhead is built into the ceiling?” Her nonchalant attitude earned an obvious look of jealousy from Amy, raising a brow in disbelief while Joyce continued to seem oblivious, or rather, continued to stare off into space. It never was easy talking to Joyce. Sometimes she was so absorbed in her mind at times, she was too deep in her own thoughts to hear the outside world. It was a silent and unspoken suspicion that Joyce didn’t know how to socialize outside of a work setting. Maybe she’d forgotten how to. Maybe she didn’t want to. “Well, not all of us can live in a highrise with our sky showers!” Playfully, Amy joked, mostly, and even causing Joyce to laugh when she slowly started to realize how ridiculous she may have seemed. “Sorry. I know I can’t be easy to talk to, sometimes...” “Maybe if we did this more often you’d be a bit more relaxed?” Joyce simply breathed through her nose, wishing for the same, yet regarding it like it were an impossible dream. “Sometimes I miss not having all of this, you know.” “What? Money? Fame? Status?” “Yeah.” Joyce spoke simply, despite there being a chance that Amy was being rhetorical. Then she looked at Amy with an odd sense of seriousness. “All of it.” “...Really?” Suddenly with a much more forced attitude, Joyce backpedaled. “Yes...and no...I do like it, and I do feel accomplished, but I feel like I miss out on other, simpler stuff.” “Well, what’s a normal week like for you?” “Wake up, check the news, drive or be driven to work,” her ‘be driven’ part struck yet another unfortunate chord with Amy. She listened on though. “Work, maybe leave early if I need to make a dinner meeting or party, then...” “Then?” “Go home. Wash, rinse, and repeat. The weekends don’t exactly get much more exciting.” “Have you tried taking up a hobby?” “You mean exercising?” “I don’t know... Actually, wait!” A bulb had lit above Amy’s head. “Didn’t you say you used to cook with your dad? Why not that?” “Cook for who? Myself? You can’t exactly make spectacular one person meals...” she spoke somberly. “Well what about...you know...” Joyce looked at her with a puzzled expression, clearly indicating she did in fact not ‘know.’ “Dating? Meet someone?” Joyce looked as if she were told to jump of a bridge; plagued with uncertainty and apprehension. “I don’t know about that… I don’t think I’m very interested in meeting someone...” “Come on, really? You’re gonna shoot it down without even considering it? There could be a great guy out there for you!” Joyce didn’t look any more convinced. “Or a great gal?” She looked at Amy with strangeness, and Amy decided to cut that avenue short. “Fine, fine. Don’t blame me for trying though...” She sighed, as no other immediate ideas seemed to strike her. Thankfully though, for comedic relief and to alleviate some of the tension, a silent predator pounced from the ground below and onto the top of the sofa between Amy and Joyce. Each surprised in their own way, Amy was the first to speak. “Ashes!” She tutted disapprovingly, but of course she couldn’t really be mad. The cat meanwhile seemed to care little for the scolding, and positioned itself next to Joyce. “Ugh...he always manages to slip out when I move up and downstairs...” Setting her mug down, she moved over to the furry friend nuzzled against Joyce’s leg, who was currently watching the cat with a pleasant fascination. “Sorry about that, I’ll move him back upstairs, where he should be,” with her last few words being heavily directed at the culprit. The only thing that stopped her from grabbing him though was Joyce’s polite refusal. “I don’t mind,” a small smile crept over her face as she started to pet him, and a quiet purring ensued. “I don’t get to see him much, anyway. He can stay like this.” As she looked over to Amy, the warmth in her face seemed to dissipate a little. “Is that okay?” Suddenly realizing the dynamic, Amy conceded with her own smile, sitting back down, admiring the exchange silently for a few moments. She then gave her expressionless cat the kind of eyes that spoke “You got lucky, buster.” But as she watched Joyce calmly continue her pets and light scratches, she spoke simply. “Isn’t the answer pretty simple?” Somewhat lost in petting the cat, Joyce turned over to Amy. “What is?” “Your loneliness issue? Why don’t you just get a pet? A cat would probably be good.” Amy then interjected the brief silence though, adding, “But Ashes is off the table. He may be my little troublemaker, but he’s still my furball.” Joyce danced her index finger along the top of his head, and it earned a wonderful meow, warming her seemingly cool and collected demeanor. But it did little for her response to Amy. “I don’t think a pet is really for me, so he’s all yours.” She spoke simply, ending it on a small chuckle. “I guess I like the idea of something or someone to be with...but, I’m not so sure. I don’t know what I want. Besides, I wouldn’t be home enough. Even if it was a cat, then they’d be just as lonely.” “So get two?” “One of anything is plenty.” “Then just spend more time at home?” It was doable, which was exactly why Joyce knew she was making excuses for herself. It didn’t stop her refusals though. “That’s not what I mean...” “It won’t get any better unless you try to make it better, Joyce,” Amy took a sip from her mug. “There’s a difference between trying to solve your problems and learning to live with them. I’d like to think that someone will come along the way and change your mind, but really, I’m not so sure considering we’ve known each other for so long, and nothing seems to have happened yet...” It was enough to make Joyce remorseful over her own inaction, but Ashes, meanwhile, had rolled onto his other side, purring as he rubbed more against Joyce’s thigh, beckoning for the the pets to continue. Amy watched with a tad bit of annoyance, realizing just how much of a drama queen her cat really was, muttering to herself. “Always trying to be in the limelight…” “I want a relationship, but I don’t know what kind I want. It’s hard to talk about…” She had moved on to testing the squishiness of his paw pads. “Does that make any sense?” “As much sense as using a seamstress for therapy?” “What can I say? You haven’t steered me wrong before?” At the lighthearted comment, both women shared an equally genuine laugh, polishing off the rest of their coffee. “Something will change, Joyce. I’m sure of it. When something does come along though, I wouldn’t pass up on it. Chase it, and see how far it goes!” She wanted something to come, and she’d earnestly try to never let go, but it’d already been so long, and never once had an opportunity come. She figured her chance at happiness would never present itself. There wasn’t any way Joyce could confide in another person truly and wholly. She wanted such conflicting things in a partner; independence, dependence, innocence, determination. They had to be self-sufficient, and capable of doing for themselves, yet also to lean so heavily on her. Her desires were so scattered, it was likely impossible to find someone who could piece that sort of relationship together. Nevertheless, she could only hope that Amy’s words of wisdom applied to a desire as peculiar as hers. She had the business, but now she wanted the homelife… Alas, she doubted that she’d ever meet someone that’d understand her on such a level. Never. “I think it’s about time I start heading back to the office.” She watched Ashes thoughtfully when she stood up, a little sad to disappoint the feline by ending their little cuddle session. In his relaxed position, he cocked his head awkwardly, looking for where his cuddle buddy had gone off to. He briefly meowed. Amy walked over to the whining cat and substituted with her own petting.“You sure?” she glanced at the nearby clock. “I’m sure I could find a way to kill 10 more minutes?” With the joke of today’s meeting still far from wearing thin, Joyce had taken it in stride. “No, I think I’ll be alright. Traffic will probably eat up that free time for me.” “Mmm. I suppose you’re right,” Amy spoke somewhat pensively, already feeling the flame they had begun to forge slowly dim into nothingness. On rare occasion could she actually get Joyce to be herself, and it was times like these when it was just long enough to tease Joyce’s true personality. It took a little bit of time, but she could feel reminded that life wasn’t lived inside an office, and that there were people who cared for her. They were friends, but Amy couldn’t say she truly knew the woman. It made her a little sad to say that, despite Joyce only being a client, but as a sense of recourse she reminded herself that socializing was a two-way street. They said their goodbyes, and after slipping her jacket back on, her dimmed attitude felt at home once again when it dived into the windy morning, just a few minutes shy of noon. Despite the crisp chill that froze her cheeks, and reddened the tips of her ears and nose, her eyes wandered aimlessly about the city street, being a silent observer to her surroundings, and a spectator to her own life. Just when her cheeks started to sting from the cold, she reminded herself that there was a heated car right next to her. Her hands gripped the durable foam surrounding the wheel, and her directional clicked and clicked. And clicked. And clicked. And clicked. One hand sank to her side, and seemingly by chance fell down by her phone; just close enough to grab it. With a few simple strokes, the ringing on her phone hummed as a substitute for the silent engine. “Sheila?” Using her rearview mirror, forced habit begged for her to check her eyeliner, and to make sure the coffee mug hadn’t harmed her lipstick. She knew her blouse wasn’t wrinkled, thankfully, and her pantyhose were as smooth as could be. “I wanted to tell you that I won’t be back today. I’m not feeling very well.” A few moments went by, and the directional still continued to tick endlessly. “I understand. George can be my stand-in for the quarterly report, and just have him give me a recap tomorrow. And if you could reschedule the meeting with Anderson for Thursday I’d appreciate it.” … “Then if not just shoot for Monday next week. If not then...” How much she didn’t want to deal with this right now. She wanted to drop everything… She loved her job and what she did, but sometimes it could all just be too much. “Then we’ll handle it from there.” Finalized in her decision and action, she finally pulled out and onto the road. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” The apartment was shrouded in a daytime darkness, with the only light coming from the open doorway behind Joyce. Unlike the hallway behind her, a few thousand square feet felt terribly empty. Stepping out of her heels as she stepped into the supposedly homely part of her home, she glanced longingly at the kitchen. She couldn’t be certain, but it was probably a safe guess that three of the four chairs at that table hadn’t moved since the people she paid had put it there. The couch was neat and orderly; a cushion to each corner, and the coffee table’s contents fitted in the proper position. She liked to keep things clean. And the biggest secret to it all? If you never used it, it couldn’t get dirty. Not a single light was turned on, and apart from the few spots light did manage to seep in through the large windows, a great deal of shade hung in varying degrees throughout the home. Each and every room that mattered was fully furnished, and there wasn’t a touch of echo. But how could you know it echoed if you barely spoke? There wasn’t anyone to speak to. And she lied, there was an echo. Not in the verbal sense, but the emotional. With a destination already in mind, she skipped by the tv, windows, bathroom, guest room, empty storage room, office, and stepped into the one place she could call familiar out of forced circumstance. There was a slight jostle of keys when the jacket pocketing them hit the ground, and she laid herself on the luxury mattress, yet finding absolute zero luxury in it. A dead silence sang throughout the apartment in its tone deaf lull, and it was loud enough to make her ears bleed. The cushy pillow and memory foam knew exactly how to make her body feel comfortable, but not her emotions. Not her mind, and not her heart. And as her head sunk into the pillow, she stared into the ceiling, and nothing stared back at her. The tears wouldn’t stop, but neither did each other’s embrace, which is exactly why her ducts showed no signs of stopping. Her cautious hand clutched the back of Emily’s head, fastening her securely to her chest as she openly wept, moved to pleasant shambles as a weight inside her seemed to be pulled away with such jarring force, she was simply stunned. There was a gaping hole left inside her heart, and almost immediately it was being filled with some inexplicable substance that infected her with complete, total euphoria. She wanted to hear it again. She needed to hear it again. What gave her purpose, what gave her meaning. What reminded her how to feel and have emotions. The only thing that could shock her out of such an emotional state was when she could hear a sobbing other than her own, and feel the trickles of something down her chest. “E...Emmy?” between her sobs, Joyce managed to ask. “What’s the matter?” Tearily, she chuckled. “What’s wrong?” “I...I don’t know...” sniffling herself, Emily rubbed one of her eyes. “You started to cry, so I started to… I don’t like seeing you sad.” It was another innocent line from the person she loved the most, and to hear even as the provider she was still so deeply cared for, she bit her trembling lip as she rested her head on Emily’s. “Emmy?” “Mhm?” “Can I be a little selfish?” “Of course you can!” Emily spoke with disbelief, trying not to mind the slight crack in her voice from such a rapid shift in tones. After all she’d done for her, and she still felt the need to ask for one measly thing in return? Hell, at this point Emily was prepared to sign off her left kidney! Still very much using Joyce as her cushion, she still looked upwards to the loving woman that stared back at her. “What is it?” “...again?” It sounded as if she said something before that word, but they came as tiny, incoherent whispers. “What?” With some leeway in Joyce’s grip, she rose slightly in her lap to become better face to face. “What did you say?” “...say it again?” “Say it? Say what...” And as Emily began to repeat the question, she felt her nerves and anxiety creeping to an all-time high. Had she really forgotten so soon what she just said? It was hard to believe those words came from her mouth… Nevertheless, they did, and she could feel the strange, yet pleasant remnants of the distant syllables trying to burn fiercely once again. And as her face spelt realization, Joyce herself started to look incredibly nervous, yet with eyes that begged shamelessly for the repetition. Emily had never seen Joyce so vulnerable before. So innocent… “M...mom...my...” Emily awkwardly played with the word, not finding it to be so easy this time, now that she had all her mental and emotional ducks in a row. The thought of Joyce being the flustered one was oddly sobering for her own mood. As if it were a trigger word though, she could feel Joyce’s arms squeeze her waist, and a gleeful noise escape the woman. “Now the other part!” Eagerly, Joyce egged on. Despite taking up the majority of her vision, Emily started to find it extremely difficult to look at Joyce. In mere moments the tables had been turned… “I….ov...you...” In a tiny whisper, Emily spoke. With the shoe on the other foot, Joyce turned her ear towards her. “I couldn’t hear you, honey. Louder?” Every part of her personality told Emily that she was on the edge of her seat, and given it was a sight so rarely seen, Emily felt compelled to satisfy. “I...I love...you...” A sudden, yet welcome tender exchange began as Emily felt her lips interlocked with Joyce’s. One smooth set of lips pressed to the other, one of their hands were interlocked with the other while Emily used the other for support. What Emily experienced was what she’d been teased this entire time. The seductive, dangerous lover that lurked underneath the sheets, and hid behind the matronly mother Joyce portrayed herself as. It was the third persona hiding behind the business woman and caretaker. Another friendly face Emily had only been given tidbits of, and was just only starting to understand. Only just starting to enjoy. For a few moments, Emily forgot she could breathe through her nose, which is why she suddenly pulled away for a breath of air. Joyce meanwhile had found her bravado and confidence once more, as if she’d stolen Emily’s like a succubus. It was certainly a strange departure from Joyce, as despite all being rolled into a single package, and considering Joyce a single entity, the name ‘Mommy’ felt oddly appropriate right now… It was off-putting, yes, but an unexpectedly interesting privilege she now felt she had exclusive access to. Joyce only had one baby girl, and Emily only had one Mommy. The pair was intertwined, and one held all the interest of the other. Trapped in a symbiotic relationship, one’s love longed for the other’s. “I’m sorry it took me so long...” She looked down at Emily with a curious stare. “So long for what?” “You know, to say it? To call you...M...mommy?” The tone, circumstances, and expression didn’t seem to matter. The two syllable word tickled Joyce’s heart no less, and it felt just as amazing as the last time. That being said, it didn’t deter her from comforting the girl. “Awwh… Don’t worry over something as silly as that,” she brushed Emily’s hair, but then slowly leaned forward, just enough to submerge Emily’s hair in the warm water. “But you’ve always thought of me as your,” she paused for an embarrassed moment, “baby, and only now I’m starting to...” Her heavy hair clung to Joyce’s skin as the water seeped from it, but none of it seemed to change either one’s attitude. They were so focused on each other, their surroundings had lost its meaning completely. “Maybe it was a little sad that you’d call me Joyce instead of Mommy...” Joyce spoke truthfully, and it doubled Emily’s regrets. “But,” with a finger underneath her chin, she slowly rose Emily’s eyes to hers. “Now that you’re saying it, I know that you mean it. That makes me a thousand times happier than if I forced you to.” Her smile spurred one for Emily as well. “I want you to call me what feels right, okay? Mommy, mom, mama, or even Joyce. Whichever name makes you feel the most comfortable.” Joyce knew what she really wanted Emily to call her, but hearing it twice already was more than enough, and her desires had been extremely humbled. Even if she could only hear it every once and while, it’d be more than enough to satisfy her. “Well...I want you to call me what feels right, too.” Emily spoke with certainty, and Joyce happily agreed, though, truthfully she’d been doing it from the very start. She wouldn’t try and trample on her kindness, though. “Are you ready to get squeaky clean, now?” Without waiting for an answer, Joyce already spun her around and into place while she reached for the shampoo. “I can do it,” charitably, Emily reached for the bottle, but it was pulled outside her range. Still outside her reach, Joyce poured some into her hands and was already rubbing them together. “Nice try, but I’m not gonna miss out on giving my little one a bath!” “I was just trying to help...” Emily muttered defensively. “You need to wash your hair too, you know?” “That’s very true, my little Watson.” Chuckling, she already made contact with Emily’s scalp. “But I can do that after I get started on you.” “Whatever you say...” Emily’s eyes had already closed their curtains, as she sat lazily on her knees, slightly slouched forward while the tender scrubs forced her forward and back. “So, have you had a good day?” Joyce spoke slow and soothingly, already aware of just how lazy Emily could get during tub time. It was a disarming voice that confirmed and reinforced Emily’s desires to eject and cruise on autopilot. “Mhmm. It’s been the best one yet...” Yet. Emily unknowingly had set the bar, and Joyce was already itching at the challenge of trying to top it. Too bad this one still had 6 more hours to it… Even with that in mind, it meant 6 more hours until she could give it her all yet again, but also 6 more hours to enjoy what a personal treat today had been as well. Maybe she should have put two candles on the cake? “Well I’m very, very, glad to hear that,” a small trickle of water pouring from a cup expanded into a mini waterfall as it washed through Emily’s soapy hair. After a few more repeats it was slowly transitioning back it its sleek and shiny self. The only way of knowing anything changed was if you took a moment to smell the wonderful fragrance imbued in her hair. “And after we get all cleaned up we’ll have a little more time to play, alright? So start thinking about what you want to do.” “Let’s watch a movie,” Emily somewhat mumbled in a murmuring voice. Joyce only laughed the tiniest bit. “A movie? I don’t know. We just got finished with two hours of tv. More than two, I should add.” Emily could feel the scolding stare on her back, and it only made her smile, and try not to fidget. “Maybe, but I was thinking maybe we could do something else? I’d prefer for you to be a little awake before bed.” “Huh? Why?” The idea of being awake before bed seemed a bit counterintuitive, and it didn’t make Joyce’s intentions any clearer. “Mmm...” Joyce ‘hmmed’ thoughtfully. “It’s a surprise. You’ll just need to wait.” Emily tried to turn her gears as best as she could, but her concentration was often broken by the gentle scrubs in her particularly sensitive spots. The whole way Joyce made no comments other than positive reinforcement, taking in every moment of bathing with her baby. “Joyce?” A small, personal trance inside of Joyce wavered the slightest bit. So did that mean it was a grownup question? “What’s wrong?” “Why do you have such a...nice body?” Joyce blinked, then felt her cheeks grow a little warmer than she’d have liked. “Wh, what do you mean?” She tried to laugh it off, but Emily still looked just as focused. “I’m serious though! I’m jealous...” Emily spoke on a more somber note, downcasted with a view of her own significantly smaller proportions. Namely her height. “Honey...” Emily could feel her bum slide across the bottom of the tub, and two soft cushions receive her back as they came to a halt. “You’re beautiful, I promise. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” “Yeah, but maybe I want myself like you...” “Well, I want you the way you are,” Joyce countered in a matter-of-fact voice, and Emily stared back all flustered. “What do you mean? You’re like a head taller than me! If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think I’m your adopted-” Suddenly, Emily was overcome with a sense of stupid. She slowly turned back to the bathwater. “Wrong,” Joyce ‘bzzed’ with her mouth, pulling back the dejected girl’s gaze. “Yes, maybe a little bit your size helps with me carrying you around,” Emily wouldn’t admit it, but she probably liked that advantage to being smaller, too… “But I like it because it’s part of what makes you, you.” She spoke with emphasis on the last part. “When we snuggle, hug, interact, do things together, I always like having my gal. I can’t explain it very well, but just know that you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t let these things get in the way of that,” jokingly, she lifted one of her breasts then dropped it. She then decided to take a gamble, saying, “Besides, if you were as tall as me, then both of our boobs would get in the way!” Emily tilted her brows upward, clearly hurt, yet right before Joyce was going to say something, and odd giggle escaped her. Soon it became a chuckle, then a full-on laugh. Internally for Joyce, it was a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry,” Emily wiped a joyful tear from her eye. “You’re right. I’m just talking about stupid stuff. Sometimes I like being the smaller one, too...” “It’s never stupid to talk about stuff like that,” Joyce had moved onto washing her own hair. “If you’re ever feeling bad about something, I want to hear about it.” It was another one of those moments where even the joking and teasing Joyce spoke with the utmost seriousness. With nothing left to do but watch, Emily admired the sight as her caretaker and lover cleaned themselves of the day’s fatigue. Though, she had to be truthful when she said that it can get boring even to watch the one you love the most. As if reading her mind, Joyce said, “I know, I should’ve thought of this.” “Thought of what?” “A bath with no bubbles?” Joyce spoke as if the answer were practically a given. “No toys, either?” Her second comment came with a little more personal disgust. “Er, Joy- M...Mommy,” clearly she was still getting used to that. “I’m fine though?” “Well I’m not.” Despite acting like the grown adult, Joyce’s small aggravation came off as a tiny temper, and Emily watched with amusement. Still, maybe bubbles could have been fun? The idea of trying to be imaginative with toys though felt like another task she wasn’t up to. For the time being, she’d take a simple soak over clashing plastic boats and rubber ducks together any day of the week. She looked over at Joyce who still seemed to be internally feuding. Maybe six days of the week? Joyce finally sighed, then looked over to Emily. “I guess until then you’ll just be my little sea otter.” “I thought I was a cat?” Emily narrowed her eyes. “Kitty,” Joyce corrected. “And only on land. Cats don’t like swimming, you know? We need to keep the story believable, silly.” The bewildering logic only made Emily snicker, trying to piece together just who they were trying to prove something to. At some point she’d drifted to the far end of the tub, and turning back to the relaxed Joyce, she crouched on her feet, then tensed her muscles, propelling herself towards her target. A large swish and swosh of the water resounded in the waves she left in her wake, poised like an arrow soaring through the water. Her momentum was absorbed by the water and Joyce’s body as she wrapped her arms around the woman, slightly surprised by the sudden attack. Fixing her hair, Emily looked up to Joyce with a smile, both of their hair swept behind their heads, hanging heavy from the water. “You know, I’ve never seen a sea otter before?” with no real reason, Emily said. “Really? I know the city aquarium has them… You haven’t been there?” “No, I’ve only been here for about two years, you know?” “Two years is a lot of time, you know?” “Besides,” Emily dodged the question. “You wouldn’t really catch someone like me at a zoo or aquarium...” Her face partly sunk into the water, just enough to make bubbles with her nose. “Why not?” “That’s where people bring their kids, or, people go on dates. Jack and I didn’t ever go there...” The last bit seemed to have dampened her mood a little bit. “Well isn’t that convenient then?” Emily wordlessly looked up to Joyce. Only then did the words ‘kid’ and ‘date’ strike her. “But-!” She’d been through this song and dance too many times before to not know where this was going. “No butts,” Joyce pulled Emily a little closer. “The more that I think about it, either the zoo or aquarium sounds like a fun outing. I don’t think I’ve ever took my mom and dad?” Double panic started to sink it. “Wait! No! We can’t go with them!” Joyce smirked. “So is that your way of saying you’re okay with it?” “No! Well...” she started to look sheepish. “Yes. But, they probably have things they want to do too, right? Won’t we just be getting in the way?” “That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetie, but we actually needed some stuff to do. Now that’s one day taken care of. Such a good helper...” Joyce quietly remarked as Emily’s nervous thoughts were coming into play. “Won’t they think it’s kiddish?” “No? Going to see animals isn’t as silly as you think, Emmy. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I want to go too,” Emily couldn’t help but agree, as she watched Joyce’s conviction quickly cement and become absolute. Why did she have to be so good at churning out ideas? “I’m sure they’ll like the idea too. And how else am I supposed to show you what a sea otter is?” “I can google some videos?” Joyce scoffed in an exaggerated manner, looking at Emily with pretend-condescending, yet still just as loving eyes. “I think you’ve had enough screen time for one night.” Emily puffed her cheeks at that one. “Trust me, you’ll be happy I showed you the real thing.” Emily could only hope so, because her immediate feelings right now weren’t too stellar. She could only hinge herself on her genuine excitement of seeing the animals. It was more about the mixed setting that involved Joyce’s parents. Nothing against them, of course, but where she was with Joyce still felt awkward to publicize. Their watery cuddles were then interrupted by the taller of the two rising from the water. Losing her cushion, Emily suddenly looked up to her, dreading the fallout. “End of the line, kiddo.” Joyce leaned over to the console and pressed a button, and Emily could already start to hear the water drain. “Do we have to? Just five more minutes?” Emily tried to use a pleading look. “You may have me wrapped around your finger, but not this time.” Emily suddenly felt Joyce’s hands under her pits, and she was lifted to her feat. The sudden emergence from the water sent a wave of chill down her body, even with the bathroom fan humming away. Almost immediate with goosebumps, she was beyond thankful for the towel that wrapped around her like a cloak. While she was busy holding it together, a pair of hands bunched her hair while it was wrapped in a much more manageable-sized towel. Turning to the culprit, Joyce was almost exactly like her, except her towel gave her feet and arms free access. “I want a towel that fits me like it does for you...” Emily passively spoke. “And so it shall be.” Joyce spoke simply, stunning Emily over her casualness. Snapped out of her thoughts, Emily tried to protest. “Wait, no, I wasn’t being serious! I was just venting!” “Why not?” Joyce gave Emily a brief look while staring into the mirror. “It is cute using the bigger towels on you, but I know convenience is pretty important too.” “Then just tell me how much it costs and where I can get it.” Emily knew she wasn’t going to get out of this one, but she could at least minimize the damage. “No, and double no.” How quick she was to forget Joyce’s signature trait… “What? How come? J...Mommy, I can pay for it myself.” “And that’s especially why I said no.” Joyce booped the annoyed girl on the nose, which simultaneously excited her as well as aggravate. “Mommy’s don’t give their babies an allowance, much less expect them to buy something on their own. If you want something, all you need to do is ask. And you did, which I’m very happy about, by the way~!” Calling it asking was a stretch, considering it came off as a fleeting comment than a genuine complaint. She didn’t like the idea of having to watch her words around Joyce, but she knew if she didn’t then there would probably be a few too many unexpected purchases on their doorstep. If she wanted anything henceforth, she’d need to be discrete about it on her own time… “What are you thinking about?” Emily’s eyes wandered to the window. “...Nothing.” Clearly unconvinced, Joyce shrugged for now and checked the wall-mounted screen. While Emily’s eyes wandered, she noticed Joyce’s small pile of discarded clothes, right next to her pile. Well, where her pile should have been. Instead, all there was on the ground was a used diaper. Slightly used… “Do you wanna get in your jammies now, or later?” Joyce asked in a small shout over the hairdryer. “Already? I can’t be that late, can it?” Another glance at the clock read close to eight, and Joyce gestured to Emily to come closer with an authoritative finger. Emily took a few steps, then slowed to a halt as the door to the hallway came into her vision and mind. There wasn’t any real reason for it, but a strange idea popped into her head. Something totally unusual and unlike her typical self. It was odd, and devious? Devious, yet tempting… “Emmy? Yoo-hoo?” Joyce wiggled the dryer as a reminder. What was she thinking about? “Coming?” Blankly, Emily looked back to Joyce, then the door, then Joyce. And then as a smile crept on her face, she gleefully shouted, “Nope!” Joyce didn’t even react when it happened, or was at least too surprised to. While it sunk in her head Emily just refused a simple gesture to have her hair dried, Emily’d done something so out of left field to the point where she quite literally ran for it. Darting to the exit, she swung the door open, still in her towel and slipped into the hallway. Joyce could hear the rapid thumping of her feet across the floor. Wordlessly, with a cocked eyebrow, she clicked off the dryer and poked her head out. “Emmy? What’re you…?” Poking her head outside the doorway, she noticed the sudden draft as the apartment wasn’t nearly as heated as the bathroom. She slightly shivered peering down the hall. She could see into the far end of the living room where Emily was, positioning herself behind the couch as she stared back with eyes of mischief. Only then did it finally click for Joyce. “Ohh?” with an amused laugh hidden in her taunting voice, Joyce looked to the girl who seemed to be troubled with keeping down a laugh herself. “Emmy? You know I’m supposed to finish dressing you before you leave? Running around like that is going to get you hurt!” “Not true!” Emily countered, balling her fists into the edge of the couch as she crouched in front of it as her pearly whites flashed themselves.. “I’m wearing a towel!” Joyce excitedly paced her own mental steps; pleasantly surprised by the sudden naughtiness in her charge. “Maybe, but we both know that you’re not wearing your diaper.” Emily’s laugh slightly stuttered, and she blushed, but she still seemed adamant. “Emmy,” taking a small breath, she stood fully in the hallway. “I’m going to give you to the count of three, and by then your tooshie better be back in this bathroom. You’re going to get the apartment covered in water!” It was a real issue, but Emily knew how to distinguish between Joyce and Mommy. The threat seemed real enough, but so did the desire to cause a little havoc. She didn’t know why, but there was something about chaos that suddenly tempted her. The only reason she kept it going was that Joyce seemed to be enjoying it too. “One,” sternly, Joyce tapped her foot. Emily hadn’t moved an inch. “Two.” She was really going through with this? Joyce’s heart was in full swing. Joyce opened her mouth for the final call, until Emily spoke. “Wait!” Emily suddenly blurted, and her face shifted to one of remorse. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have left...” “Are you ready to apologize?” And so the thrill had come to an end… Emily slowly walked around the couch, and Joyce could already see a few drops of water trickle down her legs and onto the floor. Thank goodness the floors weren’t carpet… Joyce kept her hands around her hips, doing her best to impersonate a scolding mother, and Emily had just reached the entrance to the hallway. “Just kidding!” Joyce simply blinked yet again, when from Emily’s perspective she pulled a sharp left and scurried off to the kitchen, past the shoe area by the door. Out of sight, Joyce held a hand over her mouth as she silently laughed and giggled. Apparently her little princess had become a bit of a trickster, and she was loving every second of it. Back to her stern self, she called, “Three! That’s it missy, you had your chance!” She followed the trail of giggles and water into the kitchen, which sure enough harbored the runaway toddler. “Last chance,” Joyce warned, already looking ready for a chase. She held her arms open, equally meant for receiving a willing participant, or a rebellious runaway. Emily as best as she could to keep the tension high and the atmosphere bubbly, regarded Joyce’s sweet embrace as certain death, and was determined to do anything she could to avoid it. Joyce started with a calm, yet brisk walk around the left side of the island to where Emily was, and Emily in response already made an even faster motion to the right. The advanced moves were already in play though, because Joyce even faster pivoted on her heel to swap directions. She near-leaped around the side, and Emily’s reaction was just soon enough to space her a foot away from Joyce’s reach. The sudden surprise and narrow victory caused her to squeal, and at Joyce’s failed attempt, Emily stuck out her tongue in a teasing reaction. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now…!” Joyce quickly abandoned her feints and went for a much more direct approach, and for Emily to counteract the disadvantage she had in stride, she worked twice as hard to move her legs. The whole way she needed to hike up her towel to keep her range of motion free, but in the process the towel on her head slipped off and her damp hair flowed freely. They did two close laps around the island, and then the table, which nearly once again spelt Emily’s defeat. She was breathing fast as the adrenaline worked through her veins, and even though Joyce was much more composed, and obviously less tired, she looked to be working a small sweat up herself. And even though she still fully intended to maintain the chase, Emily started to wonder in the back of her head, what would Joyce do once she caught her? Suddenly she didn’t like thinking about the consequences so much… She went back to focusing on the fun of the process. “Never gonna catch me!” Emily cheered as she made a beeline back into the hallway, and Joyce followed right behind. Joyce knew she would catch her, of course, which is why she prolonged the chase so she could think of an appropriate punishment. Nothing actually bad, but something to ‘punish’ her for being ‘naughty.’ Did she have a stool for the corner? Maybe an earlier bedtime? The last one would be certainly severe… Emmy probably wouldn’t appreciate that one… Emily too… As Joyce followed her down the hall, she noticed the wet trail they were on since their entrance. It was all fun and games, but Joyce called, “Careful! Don’t slip on the-” It was too late, because with each step Emily suddenly became much more shaky as her center of balance wobbled and collapse, tumbling forward and hitting her face against the backside of the couch. As friction left the building, so did her feet, rising into the air along with the rest of her body as it hit the floor. She must have hit a slight stud on the sofa, because there was a bit of a sound to it upon the collision. “Emily!” Gasping, Joyce hurried with caution over to the girl, who was already collecting herself. The thrill and fun they were having quickly drained as Emily pushed herself up from her position, and Joyce was already there helping her. Joyce didn’t know how to react, whether as a mother or a lover. She carefully looked Emily’s face over, likely still red from the heated bathroom. Emily looked a bit uncomfortable though, and she was, considering she just hit a couch face first. There looked to be no lasting damage, but it really did hurt. She clutched her nose as her eyes became teary from the stinging and pain. “Emily? Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” She held Emily close and she continued to inspect, meanwhile Emily started to sob. Joyce knew the nose was an area of concern, but was otherwise relieved to see nowhere else looked bad. “Can I see your nose, sweetheart?” She resorted to the much more cushy language to be all the more comforting. Emily had been through worse, but that didn’t meant this was any less bad. She carefully exposed her nose for Joyce to take a look. It definitely looked a little bit redder, but thankfully nothing lasting. “It’s alright, you’re okay. Just a few boo-boos, huh?” Joyce comforted, whilst Emily still tried to brace the lingering effects of the fall. Why was she running around in the first place? Didn’t she know how stupid of an idea that was to begin with? Her adult mindset was already back and waiting to scold her. Meanwhile, the very person who warned her not to do what she did was nurse her. “I’m sorry...” Emily tearily mumbled as she leaned into Joyce. “Well, I’m not going to say I told you so, but I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh?” Emily meekly nodded, just beginning to feel the throbbing pain die down. “Still, that wasn’t like you? What happened to being my good girl?” “I don’t know...” she rubbed her eyes, slowly standing up with Joyce. “I thought it would be fun...” “There’s much safer ways to have fun, silly.” She patted her head. Joyce had nearly broke into her own hysterics had Emily seriously been injured. It genuinely scared her to think of what else could’ve happened if they got a bit too careless. They could consider themselves lucky on this one… “No more leaving the bathroom unless I say so, okay?” Once again, she agreed. A wet and cool kiss planted itself on Emily’s nose. “Pain, pain, go a-way! Come a-gain a-nother day!” With swirls and twists of her two index fingers, she finished the small ritual with imitated fireworks using her hands. “Better?” Emily nodded her head, smiling. “Lots.” “Good. Once you’re all dried up, we’ll get you in some nice and soft jammies, then you can help me clean up the little mess you made.” her voice nudged to the small puddles of water. Emily slightly giggled, knowing the punishment was well-deserved.

17 - A Night of Celebration While the tv continued to play, Emily busied herself with inspecting just how squishy Pip was. Like a diligent scientist, she’d poke and prod him all over, curious to see just how long it’d take for the dents she’d cause to slowly regenerate and erase any trace of her own impact. Despite being nearly completely naked, Joyce always knew how to keep the apartment regulated. Apart from the occasional shift which would cause her diaper to crinkle, causing her emotions to get a little warmer than she’d have liked, she was overall content. How couldn’t she be? Everything today was about her, and even if it weren’t her birthday, she’d still feel like the center of Joyce’s universe. At times, yes, it could be a little overwhelming, but compared to her initial feelings, when she first walked through her door--correction, when she first woke up in her guest bed, she now had an odd sense of normalcy… She was in a bubble, as best as she could describe it. Her own little oasis she was just beginning to think of as her own. By large and far, it all belonged to Joyce, but so did Emily, too… Even if it wasn’t the most adult and responsible thing to do, nor was her current behavior, someone watching over her had such a positive ring to it. Then, for no explicit reason whatsoever, what’d been hanging over their heads the entire day suddenly sat atop her shoulder; an immovable weight which pinned her worries and nerves deep into her flesh, and near-snapping her spine. Such a pointless and relatively insignificant fear had grown and festered into an insurmountable monster that glared its teeth at the girl. As inside Emily’s head as Joyce’s reassurances and she herself was, a person can never be fully convinced unless it’s by their own conviction. The irrationalities always knew just when the big and scary Joyce was scarce, because it was then Emily could feel them breathing down her neck, staring her down like lasers on an ice cube on a hot Summer’s day. A poor, and cheesy analogy, she knew, but time after time had proven she wasn’t exactly the best thinker… The first thing they’d think of her was what a freeloader she was. How some stranger could leech off of their hardworking daughter, take advantage of her kindness, indirectly spend her money, be spoiled rotten, eat her food, take up her bedspace, waste gas, take up bath water, breathe the same air as-- The room started to feel a bit hotter than she would have liked, and slipped Pip a little bit forward just to give her face something to bury itself into. Something to cool down her overheated gears. Her feet strained into the cushy, oversized cushions of the couch as she made a small, apprehensive whimper. Pointless worrying was exactly how it was called: pointless. Even still, it didn’t stop her from feeling that way. Maybe from the right perspective their relationship was understandable, but how could you explain this sort of dynamic to rational, everyday people? Something was bound to slip, or be misinterpreted as something that’d sour their image. Her parents had no real control over what Joyce or Emily did, but they could certainly make them feel sore about it. And the diapers. Oh, the diapers. The nursery, toys, bottles, pacifiers, bibs; all of it. As far as Emily saw it, they were in a war zone right now, and they were supposed to make it look like paradise again in less than 24 hours. She knew the nursery door was lockable, but to even consider the thought at being revealed nearly made Emily want to take off her diaper right then. All that’d protect them from certain demise was a visual obstruction and a block of wood just a few inches thick. Her cushy underwear was starting to feel less than ideal. That’d disappoint Joyce, though… And as much as she hated the idea, she tried to ignore her constant, inner nagging about how to “better herself.” On the grand scheme, Emily’d like to think that she’d never been steered wrong by Joyce before, even if there had been certainly trying times. She truly was an emotional pillar for the girl. Before, she may have considered the gesture fickle, and something she couldn’t wholly lean on, but after how she’d been emotionally distraught again and again, and made whole once more by such an unyielding, powerful force, Emily might as well have thrown herself at the safety net Joyce was. Emily didn’t think the feeling of guilt would ever leave her, or would at least take an extremely long time to. The feeling that she could never contribute as an equal. Case and point being her naked self snuggling with her personal stuffed toy on another person’s couch. Somehow in Joyce’s world though, this equated to probably the thousands of dollars she’d already spent on her. And to top it off, Emily thanked her in wet and messy diapers? A harsh stretch, she knew, but it wasn’t framed as a belittlement of Joyce’s desires, rather a mocking of Emily’s personal shortcomings. Joyce had everything she could ever need, with the money and power to satisfy any other trivial gap. All Emily brought to the table was herself, and even at that she need not forget how the only she table she came near was the one meant for changing diapers, as well as needing to be carried to it. The worst of it all was how Emily enjoyed it. Certain parts, at least, as she desperately hoped Joyce cleaned her bottom well... But the fact remained that she derived pleasure from everything else. She didn’t feel like she was allowed to. She hadn’t earned it. How was it fair that she not only got to feed off of what Joyce did for her, but what she also did for Joyce? She was eating three-quarters of a fifty-fifty deal. But of course, that’s what Joyce wanted: Emily to be her happy baby. But the give and take were so seemingly lopsided, it still felt like she was shortchanging the woman. This is about the time Joyce would come to cheer me up… Passively, she thought, then briefly became wide-eyed over such a thought escaping her. How much of a dependent had she become? She wanted to feel like a big girl--an adult, more than anything right now. Stumbling over the passive effect Joyce’s matronly vibe has had on her forced an annoyed smirk. Unashamedly, and not even stopping to question it, she felt herself wanting to be intimate with Joyce, just not in this way. It was all just so...confusing. As if she were trying to shake the verbal ideas outside her head and into the physical plane, she let out a deep, annoyed sigh. Her hands grew restless, as they fondled Pip’s face and pressed into the cushions. Flustered all over, she nearly jumped when a cool, burst of air hit her neck. A small ‘eep’ of surprise escaped her when she jumped, and despite being all crinkles, turned her head poutily back to the culprit, the one she’d just been thinking so fondly of. Clearly this’d dock them a few brownie points... Joyce, known far too well for her mischief merely giggled at the sight, and kneeled by the couch, casually working her hands into Emily’s back muscles and shoulders. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, y-” she was about to say, until an involuntary gasp erupted from a particularly tense spot. A knot in her muscles had just been untied, and the physical fatigue she never knew she had, suspended by a simple cord had been released in one simple stroke. She resigned herself to playfully angry murmurs after that. “I just finished making arrangements for my mom and dad,” Joyce explained whilst she stroked Emily’s lower back, with the pinky of her splayed hand just teasing the elastic waistband of her diaper. Emily looked onwards, focusing herself on the sweet sensations exploding from inside her body. Who knew a basic massage could be so euphoric? “And what time are they coming again?” “Noon, I think she said.” Joyce then looked a bit more thoughtfully at Emily. “Are you gonna be okay with this?” “Of course,” and even if she wasn’t, the thought was unthinkable to be a fresh set of eyes in Joyce’s life, and already create a wedge between she and her parents. “I’m just...” she always dreaded repeating herself, because that just meant Joyce hadn’t done a good job of solving these problems in the first place. “I’m nervous...” From the cheeks down she was absorbed by Pip’s figure. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way, okay? You’re my big, strong girl, and you’re also my significant other,” Joyce then laid part of herself on Emily. “You’re special to me, and I want you to be okay around my family.” Maybe it wasn’t so much of even that. Joyce simply saw it as another sign of validation that what they had was genuine. By introducing her parents, it deepened the connection they had; intertwined Emily’s life with hers. “We’ll get you all prim and proper tomorrow,” Joyce gleefully cooed. “They’ll see what a pretty princess you are~!” Emily knew it was probably teasing, but further emotion was channeled into her back, this time being an uncomfortable chill. “Joyce!” Emily whined, finally looking back. “I know, I know. I’m just kidding,” her upbeat tone seemed to have reeled itself in, as she assumed her complacent self. “You’ll be your big girl self tomorrow.” It wasn’t quite like how Emily would have liked to put it, but it was in the right direction, at least. She tried to find the state of comfort she was in before Joyce’s teasing, but she really didn’t know what to do with herself right now. “Are we gonna start cleaning up soon?” “I’ll work at my own pace, sweetie,” Joyce both answered and simultaneously corrected Emily’s question and self-inclusion. Just the same for Emily, it both stirred positive and negative emotions within her. How Joyce could shoulder so much was completely and totally beyond her, but she never wanted to add to Joyce’s workload if she could help it. Then again, she’d already done that so much already, was she even allowed to feel bad about it anymore? “Trust me,” came the two-word command that Emily never seemed to not follow, “they won’t notice a thing.” “And if they do?” Such a worrywart, Emily was. “They won’t.” “But still…!” “Then if that happens, which it won’t, but if the impossible does happen,” finally inching forward to come eye to eye with Emily, “we’ll deal with it then.” It was a less than fantastic response, and even if it were backed by Joyce’s confidence, the response to Emily felt painfully empty. That’s what someone would say if they weren’t planning for the worst. That always meant the worst was going to happen. The House always wins, and fate always knows how to screw a person over in the end. It probably wasn’t true, or so Emily would like to think, but she couldn’t help but feel that superstition would do them in by the end of this visit. “But let’s forget about the silly stuff,” Joyce ushered, casually dismissing a very not silly and in fact very serious thing. “Did you feel okay about what just happened?” Once and in a long while, just like this time, Joyce looked dreadfully serious, ensuring no misinterpretation of joking could emerge. Emily knew exactly what she was referring to. She could still feel the smell etched into her nostrils… Poking at recent wounds didn’t feel great at all, but she sorrowfully responded. “Truthfully...not great,” Emily gave a small frown. “It’s hard, and...it stinks...” both figuratively and literally. It was taking a lot just not to cry from it right now. “Is it like that everytime?” She stared at Joyce, fearing for the worst. “No, honey, no, it gets easier, I promise,” Joyce soothed. To be honest, she was a little surprised and glad to see Emily take to this so well. Really, she wasn’t, but compared to Joyce’s expectations of outright refusal, this went leaps and bounds beyond that. And now she had Emily’s precious trust and encouragement to move forward with. If she needed to take certain, reasonable steps, that was now expected of her. She’d do anything to ease Emily’s pain. “Is there anything we can do to stop the smell?” Emily’s nostrils already twitched in unfortunate memory, given that she was the one who had the thing around her hips. “Maybe, but I can’t make any promises,” Joyce glumly replied. She didn’t want to say something like ‘you get used to it,’ because even if she might, that wasn’t how she wanted to solve the problem. The diapers themselves already worked wonders on the smell factor, but maybe a little more powder in the future couldn’t hurt as well… And she hated to sound selfish in even her own thoughts, but a foul smell was also a helpful indicator for when a change was in order too… Then, in a stroke of brilliance, a wonderful idea overcame Joyce. “Oh! I think I know of a way to help.” Curiously, Emily looked over. “But it involves when you use the toilet as a grown-up, okay?” “I’m not wearing diapers for when I need to use the bathroom.” ...Not as an adult, at least… “No, no, I don’t mean that,” Joyce calmed, though she still acknowledged it as a perfectly acceptable avenue. “I was getting at bringing Pip with you to the bathroom.” “P...Pip?” She looked down on the toy, half-expecting his inanimate eyes to stare back up to her in disbelief as well. “What does he have to do with any of this?” “There’s nothing to it,” Joyce simply explained. “When you go and use the bathroom,” she helped Emily stand on her knees on the couch, then firmly secured the mochi ball in her arms. “Give him a niice, biig squeeze, okay?” As if to demonstrate, she helped her arms squish the little guy firmly to her stomach. “But I don’t get how that...” “You’ll see later on. Don’t think about it too much. Just start doing that for me, okay?” Awkwardly, Emily agreed, though she still didn’t get how a stuffed toy played into all of this. She stared at Pip questioningly. What had she done to him? Rather, how much did she pay to buy him off? She side-eyed the seemingly innocent friend. Innocent for now... “Apart from that,” Joyce briefly spoke, taking the remote from the table, then killed the noise from the tv. “We went way past your tv limit.” She stroked the top of Emily’s head. “Your brain is far too sweet to go rotten from stuff like this!” Her tickles inevitably caused Emily to giggle. “Then what else am I supposed to do?” amidst her giggles, Emily somehow managed to cry in a writhing, wonderful frustration. “Well, seeing as you’re all tuckered out from your toys, maybe you’ll help me make dinner? Huh? Sound good to you?” Chuckling, letting the excitement rise and fall in her own voice, she didn’t stop her tickles until Emily pleaded yes and yes, begging for her to stop. The larger woman’s strength came into play, as she held Emily firm despite wriggling so strongly, it just proved that Joyce was stronger. She stood Emily on the ground, who was still wiping away her tears. Tears that were induced for all the right reasons. Then, Pip, who was being used to give her some sense of modesty, was taken from her then set on the couch. “No pouting,” Joyce said, as if it were a reminder, and every inch of Emily’s body apart from her nether regions were on display. “Mommy needs a special helper, and we can’t have Pip getting dirty.” It was a silly excuse for telling Emily to forget her modesty at the door, but it helped her move along with things. Watching Joyce in her jeans and sweater was making Emily awfully reminiscent of her own clothes, even if they were just a onesie and a dress… She wasn’t supposed to feel bad about this though. She was supposed to be okay with it. She was supposed to accept the flow of everything. At times it was hard, and others, simply conflicting over how she could go along with it so easily. Was she supposed to resist? She tried not to give it much thought during their walk down the hall. Once in the kitchen, Joyce had Emily stand over by the counter. “Eyes closed,” Joyce instructed. Then, Emily smirked, challenging, “Oh? And if I don’t?” Then, Joyce with a smile responded in an almost deathly serious voice, “Then that’ll be a timeout in the highchair.” Emily was already holding back a giggle, one that would be sounded as soon as she heard the ridiculous, or funny response. But when it came out and she fully processed the words, nervousness affected her laugh more than anything else. “Y...you’re kidding, right?” “Do you want to find out?” Joyce looked back to Emily as if a mama tiger were expecting her cub to get feisty. Then when the fabricated tension finally lingered for a few moments too long, Joyce pulled her in for a hug. “Silly, of course I wouldn’t punish you,” she then slipped an apron over Emily’s neck, then said, “well, only if you do something really naughty. But, you’re my good girl, so I know that won’t happen.” She walked behind Emily to tie the apron, and while the girl gulped, and tried to focus on avoiding punishment, the apron felt fit and snug around her waist. She felt her hair being bunched into the loose bun, and she twiddled her thumbs while she waited for prep to finish. Joyce had been looking forward to this since she last thought of it. They both had cooked, but never together, and never as a mom and daughter. She already had her own apron on, and was just finishing the final touches on Emily’s hair. No matter how she looked, she was always irresistibly adorable. Emily may have considered it a curse, but Joyce found it to be a bountiful blessing. “All done,” Joyce steered her over to the cabinets while she took out a cutting board. “I need you to find me a pot and fill it up with some water, okay?” With confidence, Emily shook her head yes, and so did the bun of hair behind her head. Joyce bit her lower lip, trying her best not to smother her again. They were stored in the lower cabinets, and Joyce couldn’t help but watch her padded rump slouch over while the owner of it searched diligently for such a simple thing. It was the prospect of helping that had Emily so engaged, as well as being able to cook with Joyce. Maybe she could even pick up a thing or two… While she filled the pot with water in the sink, Joyce grabbed all the vegetables she needed from the fridge, stepping behind Emily, washing them under the stream. “Is this much good?” Emily asked, eyeing the level carefully. Normally she wasn’t so anal about something so trivial, but she felt the need to be so persnickety given she was working by Joyce’s standards now. “That much is fine. Be careful when you move it to the stove, okay?” Joyce suddenly didn’t sound so jokey anymore, as she watched Emily move the heavy, jostling pot of water. She nearly let out a sigh of relief once it touched the stove. Not that she didn’t trust Emily, but she didn’t want her getting hurt on her watch. She needed to remind herself that Emily was a functioning adult at times like these. She could get a bit too into her role. “Now come and watch Mommy chop,” she brought Emily to her side, making sure she had a good view. Showing her hand to Emily, the tips of her fingers were curled inwards, saying, “Like a kitty, okay? It’s a good way to avoid boo-boos.” She looked as if she were waiting for a nod, and Emily happily answered so. Emily knew the gist of proper cutting etiquette, but she supposed a review could never hurt, and truthfully it was a little fun playing the ‘aspiring chef.’ There was no harm in mixing a little fun with the more serious bits, and starting with a bell pepper, Joyce in a few simple cuts had it divided into halves. Emily had to blink for a few seconds, processing what she just had seen. Wasn’t that a little bit too fast? Clearly it wasn’t as spectacular to Joyce though, as she was still hinged on the much simpler part of the lesson. Either she considered her level of speed insignificant, or something far beyond Emily’s own level. “See?” She showed off her hand yet again. “Kitty paws.” Emily nodded again, only with a bit more curiosity as she watched Joyce chop. Again, she moved like lightning as the metal blade slipped and sliced through the vegetable, moving by even intervals and leaving uniform victims in its wake. And as a parallel yet synchronized process, she moved her fastening hand down the vegetable as the knife moved, maintaining an even space the whole way. “Think you wanna try?” Unexpectedly intimidated, Emily nervously answered, “Uhm, sure...” The other half of the bell pepper was set in front of her, and the bar had been set awfully high. She felt like she was destined to fail. Slowly, she mimicked the “kitty paw” approach, as Joyce called it, then with much more mindful precision tried to form her first cut. Then when she pressed, it wasn’t nearly as smooth as a motion as Joyce’s was. Instead, there was slight resistance in her cut, and she had to press, then a telltale snap would erupt as the knife hit the board. Then she tried the next, and it was somewhat the same. The next one too, and by now she could see her spacing was off. Before Joyce could give any input, Emily was the first in a whine, “How am I supposed to do it like you?” “Ah...well...” Joyce at a near loss thought for a moment. She was starting to think that she may have made something that looked skilled into child’s play, especially to a novice. It was easy, but only when you had years of dedicated experience to back it… It was an innocent, yet broad question, and it had no easy answer. “Here,” Joyce had taken one hand into each of hers, and positioned the blade. “One step at a time.” Even Joyce needed to pause for a moment, as it was like she had to explain how to breathe. She didn’t put much thought into her technique nowadays, considering the best she could say right now was to just do it, and even if she was above average, she wasn’t exactly a master cook. What a spectacular teacher she’d be. “You need to start with a small cut from the bottom,” Joyce helped her position the knife, just so it was slightly leaning into the bottom edge of the pepper closest to the board. “That way when you press down...” She moved her hand down, and consequently Emily’s, and further down the line the actual blade, as the small, simple incision they had made expanded across the arch of the pepper with ease and a small clack from the knife hitting the board. “Like that, I guess,” Joyce simply stated, whilst Emily stared in awe. “Is it really that easy?” Emily exclaimed over such a simple thing, admittedly giddy to fully try it herself. Her slight shuffles caused a few crinkles from her bottom, and it warmed Joyce’s heart to no end. “...Can you show me again?” Joyce smiled, then set themselves up for the next cut. It had a little more spacing than she’d have usually put, but she wanted to give Emily a generous area to work with. “Ready? One more time. So start with a small cut on the other side, then ease it down...” Another successful cut, and Emily was unashamedly ecstatic. She actually felt like a pro, and had discovered a secret that revolutionized the wheel. She’d been thinking about sliced bread all wrong! “Okay, now it’s your turn.” Joyce let go of Emily’s hands, and after a second went over to the stove to turn on the burner, right underneath the pot of water. She came back to Emily and saw her accelerating into a rapid pace. “Easy now,” Joyce warned, placing a hand on her shoulder to slow down. “It’s not a race, okay?” She chuckled over Emily’s slight remorse. “I just wanted to do it like you, that’s all.” Emily spoke earnestly, already trying to elevate herself to the heights of the greats. But apparently she was flying too close to the sun. “You’ll get there, but only if you play it safe. Mommy’s being very generous letting you use a knife you know,” Joyce spoke sternly, but with a joyful smile as Emily laughed in return. Again, it felt strange to be worried by Emily handling a tool she was more than capable of, but the kid’s diaper around her hips spoke differently… “What’re we making, anyway?” Emily asked while she finished up her final chops. “Stir fry. Quick and easy,” she answered while grabbing the package of noodles from another cupboard. “What time is it though? Isn’t this a bit early?” “Maybe, but it should work right about to dinner time. Besides, if we need to turn in early, so be it. Tomorrow’s probably going to be busy.” She spoke with equal parts simplicity and dread. She had no idea what tomorrow would be like, and even if it went well, that still meant there was another whole 48 hours for something else to go wrong. But for the sake of being positive, she tried not to think that way. Emily had already had her fair share of worry, so she did her best to shrug it off and watch Joyce work, while also moving onto the next pepper. “Hey Joyce?” “What is it, sweetheart?” “How long did you say that you were cooking with your dad for?” “Umm...At least 10 years, I guess?” Emily nearly collapsed from the nonchalant mention of her titanous level of experience. “Er, how long might it take for me to cook like you?” Joyce simply snickered as the water began to bubble, and she took a moment to admire Emily’s progress. “Why’s that? Is Mommy’s cooking suddenly not good enough for you anymore? Huh?” “N-no!” stammering, Emily retorted. “Emm-” she paused for a second, “Emily,” the same, typical smile overcame her face, and the corners of her lips rose just slightly, and the smallest sliver of teeth peered between her lips. “Baby steps, okay? If you really want to, you can practice with me more in the kitchen, if you’d like.” “Really?” Emily responded as if she’d been told she was getting a puppy. Such a simple gesture had her eyes glistening, and she looked to be over the moon. “Of course,” Joyce spoke while filling the pot with noodles. “What’s got you wanting to cook so badly, though?” “W-well...” Emily started, then quickly reeled back into her shell. “I kinda like to cook, I guess...” “Uh-huh?” Joyce asked half-seriously. Not that she doubted her, but Emily tended to be a pretty bad liar in front of her. “And...and I don’t know...” She leaned slightly from side to side, crinkling to and fro. “It’s nice being able to do stuff together...” Mildly surprised, Joyce blinked simply as she looked back to her busy bee. “We can always do more stuff together, Emm, but don’t we already do that now?” “Kinda, I guess...” It was one of those responses initiated by her raw emotions and feelings rather than intelligent thoughts and words. The perk to being so understood by Joyce was being able to skip the translation process. She could throw her messy self at Joyce and she could decipher her very being in just a few glances, pokes, and prods. “Is my little one feeling a little hungry for some more attention?” “...” “Emmy,” Joyce started to laugh, “when you want something, don’t be shy and ask for it! Besides, the worst that’ll happen is I say no?” Emily was suddenly out of things to chop, so she looked over to Joyce, with a bashful blush and smile, then nodded her head. “What can I do now?” “You...” Joyce trailed her voice as she looked about the kitchen, searching for something. A look of clarity came over her though when she left the kitchen, then came back with a familiar item. “You’re on break,” she handed the adult-sized baby bottle to her. “All gone, you hear?” She waited for Emily’s answer, which came right after. With some positive reinforcement, and a pat on the head, she then had the girl busy nursing watch as she seasoned the vegetables. “Hmm...” As if with a fine-toothed comb, Joyce scanned over Emily’s handiwork. “If I hadn’t known any better, a master chef could have been in here?” She held up a finely sliced piece of onion. The obviously exaggerated praise had Emily looking anywhere but at her biggest fan, yet the stream of juice didn’t stop one bit. “Oh, actually,” gently, Joyce removed the bottle from Emily’s mouth, and placed the knife back in her hand, adjusting the pink apron slightly. “Hold the knife up a little bit?” Puzzled, Emily listened as she looked at the knife herself, unsure of how to pose it. But pose it for what? She turned over to Joyce, just about to ask a question, but then the audible snap from her phone said plenty. “J-Joyce!” Partly frantic, Emily set the knife down then rushed over to her. “What’re you doing!?” “What?” Joyce spoke defensively, happily admiring the picture. “You look great! I don’t get to see my little girl in an apron very often, you know...” “But I’m wearing…!” “Diapers? So?” “What do you mean, ‘so?’” Emily continued to whine, and after pulling Joyce’s arm down the slightest bit, she could see the screen as well. It was herself, from the waist up, looking at a kitchen knife with the same level of obscurity as she was feeling a second ago. With her bun tied back and wearing an apron, it was certainly a different look for her… “See?” Joyce’s words pointed to the picture. “It’s a harmless picture. No diapers, and nothing naked.” Nothing we can see, at least. There wasn’t any need to add that though. Unnecessary nerves were the last thing Joyce wanted to stir. “But...” Emily wanted to find some sort of fault with it, because she wanted to believe there was. If she knew what she was wearing underneath, of course her paranoia assumed others would think the same upon first glance. “But nothing.” Joyce calmly, yet firmly ended it there. “The picture stays, and I won’t hear anything else about it, understood?” At a loss for words, Emily mumbled an ‘okay’ and continued to be quiet. It wasn’t that Emily was easy to manipulate, but she was simply more trusting of Joyce now. Maybe if she had really pushed, and even if Joyce felt uncertain about it herself, she’d have considered deleting the photo. But over something so small? Not a chance. Not when she was explicitly given permission to be a shot-caller. To be a mommy. “I’ll need one of you smiling at some point though,” playfully, she warned. “Either that or I’ll need to tickle one out of you...” the minor way she spoke to herself scared and stiffened Emily to no end. When it was a clear joke she knew to take it in stride, but from the outside looking in, it sounded like she was genuinely forming a plan… It didn’t take long for the bottle to be back in her mouth. “Well? How did my special little birthday girl like her num-nums?” Joyce fawned and gushed as she dabbed the washcloth over Emily’s face, barely able to move in her highchair. “Good as always!” Emily complimented, still relishing in the wonderful warm feeling she felt in her stomach. Though, a growing tinge in her bladder somewhat dampened the mood. Figuratively, of course. This was starting to feel oddly repetitive. Joyce had kept to her word though, and after being relieved of her apron, the only clothes Emily had on other than a diaper at this point was a bib just covering her breasts. Thankfully Joyce didn’t use that as an excuse to take away her silverware… It had been a wonderful night though, and what a special treat to finish it off on it was. Being her third time in the highchair, the feeling wasn’t too terrible… The security to it all was kind of alluring, in a way. Happily, and dumbly, because she knew it was okay to let herself go, Emily patted her hands on the plastic tray, swinging her legs, anticipating the release from her confines. “What’s gotten into you?” Joyce curiously nudged, washing their dishes. “You’re awfully cheery?” “I don’t know,” Emily giggled. “I’m just happy, that’s all...” she looked thoughtfully around the kitchen, soaking in all the love, care, concern and comfort she’d been given. “Thank you...” On a similar wavelength, past the jokes and simple banter, Joyce repeated the same back to her. “Now who’s ready for a bath?” Joyce looked around the room, curiously, opening cabinet after cabinet, and even lifting a candle for something that didn’t seem to exist. “Who is it? Hmm...I wonder who...” The simple charade was beyond ridiculous, but it was exactly why the absurdity had Emily cracking a smile. She couldn’t help but give a noise of approval once one by one her arms were lifted, and her armpits were analyzed like footprints. “Where is she?” Earnestly, Joyce continued the little game. “I’m right here,” Emily tried to say plainly, but it was obvious the silliness was infecting her voice as well. She tried to lean her head into Joyce’s, but just as she was going to make contact, Joyce leaned back like something else’d caught her attention. “Hey!”Emily swung her feet from the chair, and the tips of her toes just brushed the jeans of her mother figure. Then, just as she made contact, it looked to Joyce as if it were a fleeting thought, and she passively looked towards Emily with disinterest, then shifted rapidly to ecstatic surprise. “There she is!” after a small gasp, Joyce cooed. “What’s gotten into you?” Emily countered in a jokingly mockful voice. She repeated the same words with an artificial tone that nowhere near resembled her own, or Joyce’s. “Oh?” Joyce sounded in an almost offended surprise. “Is that what you think I sound like, missy? Maybe I should’ve resorted to the tickling, after all...” Immediately Emily’s mouth was tripping over itself, begging and pleading for her not to. It was all too wonderful, to see her little girl have the fear of God be put into her by mere tickles. It made Joyce feel a way she never had before. It was like trying to describe why you called blue, blue. There wasn’t any explicit reason for it other than it simply was that way because it was. It had no beginning chain of logic, nor an end. It was one of the many qualities of life you accepted, and celebrated its existence rather than questioned. “Well, you were being so good earlier, that I thought a little dessert was in order. But I’m not so sure now...” Dessert? Emily perked at the sound. Never once had dessert been on the menu here. Smoothies were one thing, but that came from a tangent, not an orderly sequence. And she’d just threatened the balance of this unknown, but likely delicious treat! She stared worriedly at Joyce, trying her best to seem apologetic. She didn’t even know if she was pretending right now, as the mention of sweets blurred the line between fiction and reality to such an intensifying degree. She was a mess of emotions and sensations, and they all screamed for deliciousness. Joyce had her arms crossed, and she looked reluctant, as if it were against her better judgment. “I don’t know...” “Please?” Emily was back to her innocent self, and it was a single word that could make Joyce cave. She planned to from the start, but Emily sure knew how to dish out the big guns… Joyce turned over to the fridge, opening the door after giving Emily’s most recent artwork an affectionate glance, then moved a few larger items to the side so she could pull out what she’d been hiding this whole time. “Ta-dah!” Covered by a thin layer of cardboard, with a plastic window etched into it, Emily could recognize the simple, yet elegant pattern printed around the display box in a pale orange and pink box. The front of it was a slew of cursive that Emily barely cared to read, but she recognized the logo immediately. It was a bakery, and a terribly expensive one at that. Lowering it just enough for Emily to see, inside was a plump square of marble cake, topped in a fluffy, light-looking frosting, crowned by a small centerpiece of banana and strawberry. Two small mocha sticks stuck out at an angle like an abstract hat ornament, and small shavings were lightly sprinkled about the top. The cake itself looked to be an enchanting gradient, as the dark chocolate core lightened into a vanilla hue at the top. It was a generously sized slice of cake that had Emily’s mouthwatering to no end. “Is that for me?” Joyce nearly rolled her eyes. “Of course it is! It’s your birthday! Did you really expect me not to get you cake?” Emily blinked her glossy eyes, and Joyce moved over to the counter with the box, already setting out a plate. What Emily hadn’t seen was the small piece of white chocolate mounted to the top with her name illustrated in a thin chocolate sauce. The finishing touch was the slim stick candle slipped on top, and Joyce lighting it with a match. Emily eyed it temptingly, almost wishing it were within her power to burst free from the chair. The lights in the kitchen started to dim, to the point where the only lights were the glow from the apartment windows looming over the streets, and the orange radiance from the symbolic flame. “Happy birthday to you,” in an angelic voice, Joyce began to sing as she moved the plate closer and closer to Emily. “Happy birthday to you!” The rise and fall in her voice was perfect, and pure lyrical ecstasy to Emily’s ears. Her voice was complete and total serenity to Emily, and if it were a drug she’d already be an addict. “Happy birthday dear Em-mily!” She made a small, satisfied squeal as she rubbed noses with Emily. “Happy birthday, to you!” With the only light in the room illuminating Emily’s wonderful, adorable face, Joyce looked on with immeasurable satisfaction. Taking a moment, Emily puffed up her cheeks, then unleashed a small gush of wind upon the poor, defenseless flame. The wave killed the flame almost immediately, and marked the first milestone she’d ever shared with Joyce. It made her so happy, Emily even against her adult will pushed heavily on her bladder, and the tight stretch finally snapped as the strange, yet acceptable stream flooded her diaper. Potty face. Joyce sighed with a smile as she watched, but could see she was still focused on the pastry. Plucking out the candle, Joyce also snagged the chocolate sign too and gave it a bite. Sweets weren’t her all-time go-to, but even she was curious to how the cake tasted… Just as Emily went for the fork, Joyce halted her with an “Ah-ah!” Emily paused, looking sorely cheated out of her special gift. Joyce looked stern for a moment, but then went back to an immediate smile, knowing she’d teased her for long enough. Emily wasted no time, plunging the fork into the fluffy, spongy substance, and was overwhelmed by a wondrous sense of stimulation the frosting was a smooth, airy cream that only added to the perfect mouthfeel, and she couldn’t help herself but already include the banana into her first bite. The strawberry would come later, and it’d be just as spectacular of a combo to the rest of the cake as was the concoction in her mouth right this moment. Had her mouth not been full, she’d have been making ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs,’ but because it was, she resigned herself to muffled, content noises. Emily was too caught in a drunken pleasure for her to care when Joyce took the fork from her, stealing her own bite. She kept hers a bit smaller though, just so Emily’s stomach had more to look forward to. Though maybe a bit more reserved, Joyce was as equally pleased as well. Clearly this had been the right choice, and she was happy to see her efforts had paid off in full. No words were exchanged when Emily repeatedly opened and closed her hands, begging for her eating utensil to be returned to her. Joyce happily complied, and while she was eating, Joyce needn’t force a smile out of her for a picture, because the cake’d already done so for her. You could see a bib around her neck, and the high cushion to the back of her chair was questionable...but… She slipped the phone away, going back to admiring the spectacle. It was a never-ending gravy train as flavorful bite came after flavorful bite. She never wanted the mouthgasms to stop, and the only times they did was when she needed to wash it down. At some point her juice turned into milk, not that she cared, and went back to happily munching her food. But in the end, the simple mention of such a state was indication enough of disappointment. Not that the cake was bad, no, but because there was none of it left. Granted, Emily felt like she’d easily overeaten, and her stomach strained to the point of a very mild pain. Punishment for her gluttony, she supposed. “Good, I take it?” Almost sluggishly Emily nodded yes, and Joyce could only chuckle. “I’m glad,” Joyce finally cleared off the tray, and even stole a swab of frosting from Emily’s bib, slipping it into her own mouth. She undid the straps, then gave the suddenly blushing girl a testing squeeze on the crotch of her squishy diaper. She hoisted her off the seat, then slipped the tray back in. “Ready for bath time?” Satisfied on all imaginable fronts, Emily nodded her head. Slipping the bib off, Joyce then took her by the hand and to the bathroom. “You’ve done so much for me today, babygirl,” Joyce spoke soothingly as she laid Emily down on the bathroom tiles, announcing the loud noise of tearing adhesives. The faucet to the bath currently gushed a hypnotic noise as the room slowly heated to a relaxing temperature. A small amount of steam rose from the water, and it was the perfect setting to watch the night sky through the window, whilst surrounded in warm, yellow colors whilst getting ready to hop into the blue, clear water. Everything was clean and shiny, and soon Joyce would do the same to Emily. She’d be refreshed in a sweet aroma of scent and smell, and go back to being her perfect self. Not that she never wasn’t. The diaper was only wet once, and it had a long way to go. Joyce thought about it for a moment, but tabled the idea for later. She wanted to focus much more on what was about to come. After removing Emily’s one article of clothing, she undid the bun in her hair and had her ready to be bathed. Still intoxicated by the atmosphere and everything it entailed, Emily stood dully as she watched the water rise, and feel the steam brush her skin. She could almost fall asleep to the noise, but did her best not to. “Someone’s looking a little sleepy, huh?” Emily turned her head to the source of the noise, and was stunned out of her sleep-induced state. “J...Joyce?” In a muffled reply, Joyce said, “What?” The reason it was muffled was because her shirt was covering her face, namely because she was taking it off. Setting it to the side, Emily wordlessly watched Joyce’s enchanting figure slowly unravel itself from the cruel confines known as clothes. Why was her body of such interest? Seeing her breasts suspended by the purple, patterned bra, the panties which complimented them came on display next as the simple stroke of her fingers slipped the denim flap from underneath the button. Lowering her pants, it displayed the rest of her curves, while Emily’s heart was in a shocking and unexpected tizzy, beating fast and heavy as she watched. The simple shake of her head to fix the state of her hair made Emily’s blood-pumper yet again skip another beat. She watched nervously as she felt herself grow hot from more than just the steam. Joyce paid her shameless ogling no mind though, as she unclasped her bra and her beautiful breasts were a spectacular sight to see as well. She’s a woman, so why am I… Emily tried to question further, but the feelings in her heart were telling her to stop, just so she could spend that much more time focusing on the one thing she could take her eyes off of. They were both women, though, right? So why did Emily feel the need to feel so...so flustered? It was strange how natural it felt to Emily though. She’d recognized this feeling with countless other people, but never to someone like Joyce. She’d never considered it, or at least she thought she hadn’t. Maybe Joyce was just that special? Again, questions were the last thing she wanted to entertain right now. Regardless, the feeling was undeniable. Attraction. Much like Emily, the last thing to come off of Joyce was her underwear as well, and suddenly she was just as naked as her baby girl. Emily stared at choice with reddened cheeks, and a face ridden with personal bewilderment. Her innocence only furthered the passion Joyce was feeling however, as unlike Emily, she knew exactly how she felt, and it was the perfect mix of motherly and partnerly affection towards her charge and partner. “Mommy needs a bath, too, silly. Is it okay if I join you?” Meekly, Emily nodded her head yes, trying not to be so fixated on Joyce’s figure. It was funny in a way, thinking how Joyce’d become so casual to Emily’s naked figure, whereas the first sign of Joyce’s for some reason had Emily registering her as drop dead gorgeous. Skin-to-skin contact came into play once Joyce had Emily in her arms again, and Emily wrapped her legs around Joyce’s waist. Emily pressed her smaller chest to Joyce’s easily larger one, and Emily locked eyes with the one person she couldn’t get out of her head. The water swished as Joyce stepped in, and very slowly she came to her knees, submerging Emily’s body soon as well. Emily wasn’t sure of the body’s melting point, but she was sure she was dangerously close to it. Too many factors right now were pushing her close to a fever induced by sheer pleasure. And partly in the water, with Joyce sitting against the rim of the tub, Emily turned her head sideways so she could keep her face unobstructed while using Joyce’s breast as a pillow. “I hope today was very special for you, Emmy. I love you so much, I want to wish you a very happy birthday.” Not a sound was heard, other than the bathroom fan, and the slight stirs of water. Joyce could feel Emily’s arms squeeze a little bit tighter around her, and her head nuzzle further into her chest. Then, she heard it. “I love you too...Mommy.” So not to disturb the moment, Joyce brought a hand to her mouth as she winced, and her eyes blurred with tears. Emily could feel herself be hugged tighter.

Awesome! It's constantly a back-and-forth issue for me, making sure I don't lean too heavily on the conservative side, as well as progress things too fast. Hopefully what I'm doing is believable enough. Thanks for commenting! ? Don't worry about it. The kind words and vivid reactions are plenty! Thanks!

Whoops, you might not like where the next chapter goes then... It's coming real soon, though! I felt one more chapter was necessary before we reached that point. You'll see what I mean. Thanks! Glad to hear the kind words. Thanks for commenting!

16 - Messy Milestone A small, crestfallen whimper escaped Emily when she could feel a hot spurt escape her bladder, and soak into the inviting, thirsty pad taped around her hips. Trying the best she could to relax her breathing, the pitter-patter expanded into a river, as she started to flood her diaper. She stared off into space as the tingly feeling trickled in her nether regions, acutely aware of the raging battle in her pants; the struggle of her pee trying to pool whilst the diaper absorbed it. Strangely enough, she imagined it like pouring a bucket of water in the sand. At first there would be a tiny pool, but the dry, dry sand would eventually drink it all away. And in its place would be a much heavier, squisher form. Without even realizing it, the corner of a crustless sandwich nudged the edge of her mouth. She looked over to the culprit, and of course it was the only other person in the kitchen. “There she is!” Joyce cooed like it was a game of peekaboo. “I was afraid my little Emmy was petrified!” “S...sorry...I...I just…-” “Didn’t you ask for half of my sandwich?” Obviously jumping over Emily’s words, Joyce interjected with a stern voice. “This little guy still has two more bites to it, and I expect them to be coming from you.” Emily, blinded by her own embarrassment, didn’t notice Joyce’s tactness and tried to press again. “But I just...” The words kept failing her, and her verbal shortcomings frustrated her even more as she shifted in her seat and felt the diaper squish. “There’s no need to talk about it, silly,” Joyce spoke soothingly; not to express her own annoyance; far from it. It was all to calm Emily’s nerves. “We’ll take care of it when we need to. What happens down there is my business when I decide it needs to be addressed.” It was never a tone to belittle Emily, but to help shift any responsibility she might unnecessarily feel was hers. It was Joyce’s job to shoulder all the negativity, and in return for Emily to be her cute little self. “Besides, what kind of mommy would I be if I needed my baby girl to tell me whenever she needed to be changed?” As her role was further defined, and responsibility for her bladder relieved, Emily blushed harder, muttering, “Then how will you know…?” “Mommy’s intuition, naturally,” she spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, figuring the sixth sense was a given. Though, truthfully, it wasn’t like any of Emily’s diaper habits were discrete. Joyce hated to exploit them, but even if Emily didn’t tell her what was going on, the muffled gasp or minor whimper was often plenty enough to tell what was happening. Whenever Emily seemed visibly distraught out of nowhere, it was likely the state of her diaper that was contributing to it. And now that Emily wouldn’t be directly helping her out anymore, Joyce’s eyes briefly trailed to the crotch of Emily’s diaper. She’d have the liberty of conducting some real diaper checks, now. “So now let’s review,” Joyce ruffled the top of Emily’s head. “Who’s in charge of your diapers?” “...You are,” Emily meekly replied, her mouth contorting into an awkward, flustered smile. “And when you use it, you…?” “Do...do nothing?” Emily answered with a slight bit of uncertainty. “Bzzz,” Joyce sounded her error and crossed her fingers into an ‘X.’ “Wrong, my baby girl. You’re supposed to keep having fun!” Emily technically was right, but Joyce considered it another chance to reinforce positive feelings. “The only thing you need to worry about it having fun, and enjoying Mommy’s snuggles and love!” she eagerly rubbed their noses together, and sparked embarrassed giggles from the girl. “Oh, but, I guess you do have an important job...” Joyce spoke with a sudden look of realization, like she’d forgotten something important. “What’s that?” Emily answered with mild, yet genuine curiosity. It was conflicting to seek that sort of stimulation; legitimate responsibility while still trying to act like a baby… But, it was pretty obvious the two weren’t on the same wavelength when Joyce finally revealed, “Mommy needs affection, too, you know?” With an exaggerated expression, she looked to be someone in desperate need of love herself, and though she was joking, Emily still started to feel a new sense of frustration as she couldn’t free herself from the chair to hug Joyce. Annoyed, she swung her legs, trying to at least fire her love like projectiles to the matronly figure instead. Joyce then closed the distance again, but while staring Emily in the eyes, grabbed her fidgety ankles until they stopped moving. “Eat your lunch, then we can talk about getting you out of there.” Not waiting for a response, Joyce picked up the crustless sandwich and slipped the better part of it into Emily’s mouth. And as if she had to instruct the process every step of the way, Joyce continued to jokingly explain as she motioned, “And then we chew...” she lightly tickled the bottom of Emily’s chin, nearly causing the girl to choke in a giggle fit, clearly infectious as Joyce fought hard to look serious too. “T, then swallow,” she muttered, as if trying to hide the laughter on her face. The rolling ball in Emily’s throat announced a successful, and blissful bite, and there was only one more to go. A small amount of fruit remained too; all of which was Emily’s portion, but Joyce was finally feeling merciful as she stole another cube for herself too. With enough coaxing, Emily did finish her food, and the rest of her juice. Satisfied, Joyce unlocked the tray after cleaning her up. And right before Emily could scamper off, Joyce halted her with a quick, “Just a second, hon.” Walking over to her confused girl, considering she’d already wiped her face clean, Emily’s heart skipped an awkward beat as the crotch of her diaper, hidden by her onesie was suddenly pressed closer to her groin, namely because Joyce’s hand was in the middle of feeling it. Emily had moved her mouth, but no words came. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, you know?” It wasn’t something Joyce wanted to see in particular, because truthfully Emily was even cuter when she wasn’t and just falling into the natural flow of things. And as she pulled her hand away from the warm diaper, her face was filled with tenderness and compassion, and the diaper slightly crinkled as the heavy bulk of it suddenly sunk back to the ground, though stopped partway by the onesie. “Maybe in a little bit,” Joyce answered the silent question gleaming in Emily’s eyes, turning back to the sink while she wiped her hands with a dish towel. And given that she’d just been told not to, Emily didn’t make as much as a comment. Not spokenly, at least. The final step to Joyce’s cleanup was refilling Emily’s bottle, and she walked back into the living room to find the girl lounging about the couch, seemingly with little regard for the diaper around her hips; happily displayed for whoever might sneak a glance. “Okay, so what are you feeling up to now?” passively, she tickled the bottom of Emily’s exposed and lazy foot; a mistake Emily would regret right then as it shot away from Joyce’s reach. “We can go back to coloring, playing games, stuffies?” None of it sounded too exciting to Emily right now. Stuffed animals called for more creativity than she had at the moment, and such a high level of coloring like she did before was too draining. Really. Being a toddler wasn’t easy. Joyce could read what was going through Emily’s head as it translated to her face, so she asked, “Maybe some tv? A movie? We could always get bath time out of the way...” Her last suggestion lingered as if she were thinking about it right then. “But, I think it’d be better to do that after dinner.” “Uhm...tv?” Emily asked for confirmation, but Joyce snickered when she slipped the bottle into her mouth, as if a sign that negotiations were finished. “Tv it is.” Joyce walked by the couch where the playmat used to be, grabbing one of the few puzzles she left out. Scooting Emily closer to the edge of the couch, she assumed her position as the bigger spoon and held her charge close. “But we’re not gonna watch too much, got it? Too much tv is bad for you.” Emily almost groaned, but the whole scenario was too wonderful to disobey over something so tiny and insignificant. Curiously, she also eyed the puzzle in Joyce’s hands, who looked to be fiddling with it herself. Joyce turned her eyes from the puzzle to the staring girl, smirking. “Think you can be my special helper?” Quietly, but with childish confidence, Emily nodded her head assuringly. It was certainly a struggle not to smother Emily constantly. Her forming mannerisms and overall attitude as the Emmy Joyce loved equally as much as her more grown-up counterpart were slowly taking shape, and they were all such encouraging signs. It told her everything they had done, and likely were going to do would be magical, and nothing but sweet, pure ecstasy for both of them. With one arm wrapped around Emily’s waist, Joyce used the other to keep herself propped up; giving herself the perfect view of the tv, and her little tinkerer trying to crack the code. Unfortunately, it was feeling a whole lot like last time, and Emily could feel herself wanting to defer to Joyce’s aid already. It was a mess of metal rods with balls fused into them, looking so intricately assembled, yet upon closer inspection finding just how much of a mess the combination was. Simple and pretty from a distance, challenging and intimidating up close. The longer she spent on it, the less calculated and logical her attempts became. Before she’d inspect how a part was threaded into the rest of the jumble, but now she was just giving everything random tugs in whichever direction possible. And she knew that as soon as she gave it to Joyce, she’d make it look so easy; do the things Emily could not so effortlessly. Her power was limitless, and Emily’s own paled in comparison. But with that in mind...it was all the more reason why she should be confiding in Joyce… “Now come on,” Joyce coaxed in a lightly disapproving voice. “I know my little girl is smarter than that,” she leaned back up so she could fit one of Emily’s hands into each of hers. “But I don’t know what to do!” Emily explained, slightly annoyed once more by being told she could do something she knew she couldn’t. Then again, wasn’t she able to meet Joyce’s expectations last time? Coloring suddenly felt like eons ago. That’s what a nap and lunch could do to a person… “Okay, come on,” Joyce gave her a quick kiss on the head. “No more pouting. Now with all these puzzles, there’s a pattern,” she started to pull her hands apart, and by extension, so did Emily’s which were holding a part. Of course nothing budged. “See? I told you-” Emily started to ramble, but was politely silenced, though she didn’t expect to be muffled by her pacifier. The banana taste was nice, but she was a little ashamed to admit that she had forgotten where it went… Another factor she needn’t consider… “And I told you,” Joyce chuckled, “give me a minute, okay? I’ll admit, sometimes for these puzzles I try randomly too. But, it works the same way as the last one, remember?” Trying to recall their first time doing this, Emily envisioned herself sitting between Joyce’s legs, tinkering with an older logic puzzle, and then of course deferring to Joyce for help. But how did she do it? Why did it matter? They were both totally two different puzzles. Maybe even different manufacturers. Taking Emily’s silence behind the pacifier as an answer, Joyce continued her explanation. “You’re half right. Yes, you pull, but what you really need to do is,” letting her hands do the talking, they pulled again, only with a bit more rotation this time. Twisting. Pull and twist. “Pull and twist.” Suddenly, there was much more give to one of the complex metal pieces. It didn’t come out, but it certainly felt like a significant step was taken, and Emily felt like a fool for not realizing the trick any sooner. These puzzles made her feel dumb, and she suddenly didn’t like looking bad in front of Joyce. Seeing this entire venture as a whole new avenue to express her stupidity, Emily dropped the puzzle to the floor and nuzzled back into Joyce. Slightly frowning, Joyce called Emily’s attention when the pacifier was slipped from her mouth and she no longer had an excuse to not use her words. “Why did you stop?” She didn’t sound angry, or expectant for Emily to continue, just concerned about the reason. “B...because it stopped being fun...” Emily answered in a way that made her to be a terrible liar, because even she knew that those words were hard to believe. “And why did it stop being fun?” she rubbed Emily’s shoulder, who seemed to be choking on yet another bitter pill. Although meekly, it was almost strange how easily Emily could let the truth flow out of her. When answering to Joyce, at least. She truly was her rock. Nothing slipped past her, and she made everything better. “Stuff like that makes me feel dumb...and, and I don’t wanna look dumb to you...” “Honey,” Joyce spoke in a neutral voice; caught between mommy-mode and Joyce the tender lover. “Do you really think I’d judge you over a single puzzle?” The silence lingered for a moment. “Do you?” “N...no...” The answer was obvious, but irrational thought still reigned supreme. “I just don’t want to feel inferior.” It was a difficult, and complex desire. She couldn’t exactly be Joyce’s peer when she was having her diapers checked and drinking from a bottle. Not that Joyce minded, and hopefully Emily too. This was a specific kind of inferiority Emily was feeling, and it was in the intellectual sphere. “You’re not inferior,” Joyce stressed. “If anything, you’re the one with all the power!” The claim bewildered Emily, and truly did confuse her. Where were they right now? Doing what? Everything within sight was all on Joyce’s dime! The only thing Emily could call her own was the few cubic inches inside of her head, and even then she was practically leasing it out to Joyce at this point… “Remember what I said? Your happiness is my happiness. When you’re sad, I’m sad. And when you feel troubled,” as if to match the mood of the word, Joyce said somberly, “then so do I.” “But...” desperate to find a counterexample, Emily it was conflicting to find her well of thoughts turning up dry. “But what? When we have adult conversations, you’re more than mature, respectful, kind, funny, and loving. What about that is inferior?” The question she ended it on was partly genuine. “And when you’re able to become a sweet, baby girl like this for me? That’s nothing but to show how strong you are.” “S...strong?” What an oxymoron it was. “Yes,” Joyce confirmed, “strong. Being able to recline yourself into such a wonderful mindset and enjoy such...different things from the norm. And to do it all for me? I’m the one who’s grateful to you, Emily. You’re willing to show me the most vulnerable parts about yourself, and I’m willing to do the same for you. So when we expose ourselves like this, how does that make either one of us inferior? Does it make me lesser to be your mommy instead of your girlfriend?” “No...” Her logic never seemed to fail, and the coming conclusion did make sense. It nearly put a smile on Emily’s face. Joyce always knew how to make things better. “So then why would it be any different for you to be my baby? It’s a sign of mutual trust, Emily. We love each other enough to drop our guard; be ourselves. Why should we feel worse because of it?” “Because...” then she realized, she had nothing meaningful to say. Nothing that’d be sunk in mere moments by Joyce and her limitless arsenal. “I’m sorry...” “For what?” Joyce lightly rubbed her back. “It’s important to talk about these things, because now we can make them better. Whenever you want to talk or share what’s on your mind, I’ll always be here, okay?” With a small noise of satisfaction, Emily nodded her head. “Good. Now,” Joyce leaned over, picking up the puzzle Emily once discarded. “Let’s do this one together. Mommy doesn’t remember the instructions on this one too clearly, so I think we’ll both be struggling...” To her pleasure, it earned a giggle from Emily. For the next two hours it’d be the noises of a tv in the background, small talk, and small clinks and clacks of metal. “Hey Joyce, how big is your office at work?” “Hmm… Well, I suppose it’s somewhat like the office we have here, but maybe a little bit bigger. Why?” “I dunno...” Emily’s voice trailed as she worked on the puzzle. It was just simple and baseless curiosity. Joyce was left with lingering ideas though. It made her giddy to think about bringing Emily into work; being able to show her off to everyone. Under what lens though? Obviously as her partner, but…she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wish she could show off her adorable side, too. The company did have a bring your daughter to work day. Maybe then it’d be a good excuse to show her around? Then she chuckled, imagining the confusion they’d cause. Everyone would think that she was bending the rules, and they would be correct, but wrong at the same time. “Speaking of work,” Joyce added, “have you heard from yours at all?” “Sort of...” Emily glumly replied. “They said we’d be receiving some news either tomorrow or Sunday. I don’t know what to expect...” Sure, the unofficial vacation was nice, but being out of work for so long, longer than even last time wasn’t sitting well with her. “It’ll be fine. Everything will work out in the end.” Joyce continued to soothe her, though, tried to keep her personal opinions on the reserved side. She already had certain ideas about what “temporarily” closing an entire department might entail. For Emily’s sake, though, she would stay optimistic. And she meant it when she said that everything would work out, one way or another. Emily stayed quiet, watching the tv for a few moments, then visible shock crept on her face when she felt it. A pressure. A force. A small movement, or rather, a push. It was coming from the last place she wanted it to. The one forbidden spot; even worse than the bladder. Her bowels. She was just about to excuse herself, but then she realized where she was, what she was wearing, and who she was with. It was a helpless cause, yet the thought of what Joyce would inevitably force on her scared her to no end. Joyce could already pick up on her slight and awkward shuffles, though, asking, “What’s wrong?” Emily’s mind raced a mile a minute, thinking how she could answer such a dangerous question. It potentially defined life or death. Her mind must have been solving quadratic equations in rapid succession, whilst deciphering the ancient texts known as Joyce’s personality while she computed a suitable answer; mentally reviewing all their past exchanges to have her personality figured out down to a ‘T.’ She had probably skipped over discovering the meaning of life itself just to find what words might keep Joyce at bay. And then it came to her. A godsend, words of wisdom, and divine will comprised into the vocal form. Intellectually enriched, and enlightened, she had discovered her profound words which Joyce could not bear to disobey, defy, or question. “Uh...uhm...nothing.” After the slight crinkle and squish from standing up, she excused herself. “I...I need to check on something.” Truly profound words. “Emmy...?” Joyce leaned over in her spot, watching the girl disappear into the hallway. She was more perplexed than anything else for the first few seconds, seeing how unusual this was, but a sneaking suspicion was growing on her. She stood up and followed. Meanwhile, Emily clasped her hands on the knob of the bathroom door, and as she twisted, the knob did not. Stunned, and trying to save herself from a breakdown, she helplessly turned the metal knob over and over, hoping that the locking mechanism would show mercy and let her through. Panicked whimpers escaped her as the sense of worry and distress only seemed to make the pressure on her bottom feel worse. The worst part was she already expected this. She knew Joyce like always had taken the necessary precautions, and this time would be no different than the last. Well, it would, though the only thing different would be what she was doing in her diaper. It was the worst imaginable scenario possible. A hand reached from behind Emily and it sought out her own. Knowing full well who it belonged to, Emily became sorrowfully limp as it handled her. “Please...” All she got as a response was a hug. “I’m sorry, honey, but not this time.” “But…!” Emily spoke with desperation; stuck in a frenzy with what time she had left. There was nothing she felt capable of doing other than skipping straight to the inevitable. Why torture yourself and watch the water rise than just drown yourself from the start? Tension certainly wasn’t good for the muscles, because she was feeling the strain grow on her by the second. It could have very likely all been in her head, but that didn’t discount from how real it felt right now. The need to go. Maybe it was but a second later and Emily was back to tasting synthetic fruit. It didn’t exactly clear the clouds and chase the storm away, but it at least gave Emily a roof to put her head under. There wasn’t much Joyce could do other than employ all the comfort techniques she knew for Emily. This wasn’t going to be easy, and she knew that, but she could at least try and soften the blow. Emily slowly sunk to the floor, still supported by Joyce’s arms whilst she tried her best to come to terms with an absolute fate. “I know, I know...” Joyce cooed, even if she really didn’t, but she took a fair guess that Emily was too distraught to really call her out on that. “The first time is always hard, but I know you’ve made it through to the other side each and every time. This is no different.” While she spoke, Joyce had turned Emily to face her. Emily had moved to take the pacifier out of her mouth, but she was stopped. “Hang on, I want you to be nice and comfy, okay?” Genuinely frustrated, Emily looked at the ground with a sense of bitterness. This was the last thing she wanted! It was her birthday! So why did this need to happen? It all came as a package. There wouldn’t be any cuddling and kisses without the messy parts too… She hated how literal the saying started to seem now… Keeping in mind what Joyce said, she did try her best to stay comfortable. She was being comforted by someone she deeply cherished, was dressed in a soft fabric, and...and was tasting the pleasant flavor of banana… “You know, it helps to have a friend, too?” Suggestively, Joyce added while behind her back she produced a familiar face. “Pihp?” behind the pacifier, Emily questioned. The ovular mochi shape was unmistakable, as generic and nondescript as it was. Granted, that was exactly what made him so unique. His synthetic smile stared back at Emily, and although reluctant, she was suddenly warming up to Joyce’s comfort strategy. Trying not to wince as her diaper squished, she leaned forward to take Pip from Joyce’s hands. Suddenly holding him tight, all she could do was look at Joyce, standing over her with rays of affection. Joyce rested her cheek on her hand, trying her best not to fawn too much over the sight. There she was, her little girl sitting on her knees, sucking on her pacifier, dressed in a onesie and holding her new, fluffy friend. It pained her to know that this was all for something even more significant though. She looked all buckled up for something that would certainly be more intense… “N...Now whaht?” The worst was that there wasn’t any magic Joyce could use to make what was to come any less worse. The sweet, relatively unperturbed innocence on her face wouldn’t last forever, and Joyce was the reason because of it. It was in times like these when it felt like she was kicking a puppy. The way Emily stared at her, it was complete, genuine trust, and Joyce was about to drag her through the mud. Like she told Emily: the first was always the worst. “...Now you do what you need to do.” It went easy through the ears, but not down the throat. Again, a window of freedom. She had complete control over her fate, and the only way she was going to pass her bowels was if she did it of her own accord. There was something oddly reassuring about something bad being done to yourself by someone else’s hand. At least then you had an excuse to claim no wrongdoing. You played nothing more than an involuntary role in the deed. But this was different. This was all done by Emily. It rocked her core to an uncomfortable point knowing she’d have no one to blame but herself. How was she even supposed to start? In a strange, strange, very strange way, it almost felt like she was coloring again… No matter what comparison she tried to make, it was as confusing as it was jarring. It was like peeing...but out the back? It was like she was on death’s door; pushed to a brink where she suddenly had a sixth sense. She could feel it inside of her; this mass, waste, demanding to be released. Waiting to be caught and contained by her diaper… She hugged Pip tighter, and her breaths started to pick up the pace. The gravity was setting in fast, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. “P-please, d-dohn’t mahk me!” Her pleas muffled and slightly slurred around the teat. “I need you to trust me, sweetie, okay?” Looking emotionally pained herself, Joyce leaned close next to her. Emily continued to quiver, and suddenly shake as the answer she was desperately searching for wasn’t anywhere to be found. “B-b-but, but...” “Once you’re done, we’ll get you changed right away, okay? Like it never happened,” she ended it on a content beat, and smiled a smile with the utmost confidence. Emily could already think of a few ways to continue the verbal gymnastics, but they knew who would win in the end. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Nothing other than push. How she could even push herself this far was one of science’s greatest mysteries, or at least one of her own greatest conundrums. Joyce was the much better one at reading these things, but she’d certainly come far… It felt wrong. It felt like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Something irreversible. Like she was ripping a steel beam right out of a skyscraper. Everything about this had no objective logic. She was tearing herself down for the sake of someone else. Yet even with that in mind she still wanted to follow through? It pushed against her backside like a rude and intrusive guest. The shift in gear was obviously far too much for her body, seeing as her bowels were having just as tough of a time as she was accepting what was going to happen. She grunted, and her face felt hot. From Joyce’s perspective it was red. Not the embarrassed kind of red, though. Clearly she was physically strained. She stood slightly off her knees, whether it was out of necessity or to prevent squishing from the aftermath… She couldn’t do it. She tried and tried, but her body seemed dead-set on refusing her selfish desires. And that made her feel horribly conflicted. Feeling a bountiful joy that both she and her body were like-minded in their adultness, but also downright terrible for not being able to meet Joyce’s expectations. The idea of disappointment was enough to suddenly pop a screw, because she nearly gasped when she could feel just the smallest bit slip between the barrier defining what was inside her body, and what was the outside world. No! No, no, no, no, no, no! There wasn’t a porcelain toilet waiting to receive her mess, and that’s what scared her the most. It was inconceivable to think it was going anywhere else, in her pants no less. To her own dismay, she didn’t stop, but she stared either intently at Joyce for some form of support, or off into endless space. She probably was shredding through the pacifier with how hard she was biting into it, and Pip must have been two pieces by now with how hard she hugged him. Her cheeks were wet, and they were only becoming more damp by the second. It was all a jumbled mess of confusion as she kept pushing on her bowels, and more and more the mess was starting to poke through. She had already crossed the threshold. There was no turning back now. It was all or nothing. And suddenly, the raging fire within her was rained upon by a heavy, yet wonderful shower. It tickled her ears in the most euphoric way possible. Arms wrapped around her shoulders, and she was pressed into the soft, familiar bosom of her dearest. The hums sang like the melodies of a goddess through her ears, and the sweet, gentle smells reminded her of peace and serenity. It was so sudden and so powerful, she forgot what had her so strained for just a moment. To forget how her bottom shook, fighting to release something so vile and disturbing. Something that tarnished and corrupted her mentality as an adult and grown woman. The best way to explain the feeling is like pushing a big boulder up and down a hill. On the way up, the process is tiring, straining, exhausting, and taxing. It takes everything you have to just set the ball into motion, but once you reach the top, all control leaves you. Gravity takes care of the rest and it slips from your grasp, whether you like it or not. It picks up in speed, and the momentum accelerates to a frightening pace. So fast that it’s over before you can even realize it. A long, uninterrupted gasp mixed into a sigh left Emily’s chest once it hit her. Rather, once it left her. She had stretched her sphincter to such a point that her body squeezed the rest out unaided. The poo left her so fast she nearly had a double-take. Even if she wasn’t proud, the relief she felt from finishing the grueling task was wonderful. Her diaper though felt dreadfully heavy, and her bum felt hot, like there was something close to it radiating heat. Probably because there was… What bothered her in a still shock-induced state however was the size of it all. Of course she couldn’t tell how big it really was, but it was enough to just creep between her legs, feeling the muck shift around inside of her. In unintelligible murmurs she trembled all over, as the smell reaching her nose suddenly reminded her why she should feel so mortified right now. She’d finally done it. The one last thing she never thought she’d ever do, and she’d done it. She truly was a baby. If anyone thought otherwise, they need only refer to the current state of her diaper. It made her feel awful, clearly outshining the tiniest bit of pleasure from satisfying Joyce. Speaking of which, what was she-- Emily’s head slightly reeled back once Joyce’s lips with such force pressed against hers. It was so powerful that Emily’s weakened thighs finally gave up, and her lower half collapsed. This was the last thing she wanted to happen, because she was forcibly sat on the ground. Her eyes widened once her bottom hit the ground--correction, her messy diaper. It squished and squelched, and Emily was there every step of the way to feel it all creep and smoosh. The kiss was wonderful, but the consequences not so much. Joyce looked a tad bit shocked too, but she was still clearly riddled with enthusiasm and pride. Once again, she derived so much joy and pleasure from Emily’s infantileness, but the girl was beyond overwhelmed. She didn’t know how to fully react, other than regard herself with complete and utter disgust. But once she found the words, she was suddenly a quivering mess, both literally and metaphorically. Her mind started to waver heavily, and her body all over felt extremely drained. Part of her could almost slump over on the floor and fall asleep right then. She wanted nothing more than to lean into a nice, big, soft cloud. And yet the sensation of a wet and messy diaper was too much to handle. Her lack of total expression was probably to express just how broken she was right now. She felt disconnected in some way. She was present, sentient, and capable of comprehending things, yet she wasn’t capable of any more than that. “Ch-change?” With only one word in mind, Emily look desperately at Joyce. “O-of course!” Hurriedly, Joyce stood Emily up and took extreme caution to help the wobbly girl back to the nursery. Each step was shaky, and she could feel the mess hang in her diaper heavily. Each step seemed to have charged some consciousness back into her, because she grew more upset with each and every footfall. By the time she was walking on the carpet, she was using Joyce for more than just physical support. The whole way, Joyce was sure not to skip out on the positive reinforcement, because lord if she needed it more than ever now. Before she even set Emily on the table, she undid the snaps to her crotch, and the diaper now unrestrained slumped a little bit lower. Emily could only whimper as it happened, and her nostrils contorted and squinched from the unbearable odor. Joyce was probably bothered by it too, but she gave no indication whatsoever. “I want you to know how proud I am of you,” Joyce stole another kiss from her, then pulled her in for one more hug. “W-w-wait,” tearily, in a thick voice Emily tried to stop her. She didn’t want to be smothered when she felt like this. She’d only feel worse. Joyce ignored her pleas though. “No, I don’t want to hear a word of it,” Joyce spoke firmly, yet looked just as supportive. “Emmy, I’ll love you no matter what. Whether you’re messy, wet, clean, sad, angry, embarrassed, or happy, that’s not going to change how I feel. You can tell me whatever you want, but that’s still not going to stop me from cheering you up.” Emily’s vision grew blurry as she was helped onto the table. She nearly gagged when the mess was spread once more upon sitting down. “Besides, you did the hardest part!” Joyce spoke with an upbeat, encouraging tone. “If you need to cry, I want you to do what feels right. Whatever makes you feel better. But just keep in mind two things. One: it only gets easier. It won’t be as hard as it was this time,” and maybe she could passively work on making it easier, too. Anything to ease the stress on Emily’s part. “And I will never, ever, ever, ever judge you for what happens. You might think that this is your fault, but I promise it isn’t,” she spoke as if it hurt her to think Emily felt that way, which she did. “It’s what’s natural. I wouldn’t expect anything else, okay? It may sound strange right now, but I want you to find comfort with all of this. I want to grow closer to you Emily, as your partner and your mommy.” Emily tried her best to smile and nod, but it was difficult when she was sitting in her own mess. The request was certainly strange indeed, but the idea of growing closer was almost always an immediate yes. Still, she wasn’t sure how she could get used to messing herself… That seemed like a definite no. Something impossible. And yet, Joyce always seemed to prove the exact opposite… She could only let out a sigh, the first unashamed one all day, namely because it had nothing to do with expelling something from her body. Instead, it was Joyce undoing the tapes and pulling back the front of her diaper; allowing the cool air to touch her skin. It felt like centuries had gone by before she could feel the rest of the surrounding atmosphere once again. Even with the strap over her, she could lean forward the slightest bit to see what was going on, and unfortunately she caught a glimpse, and a whiff. If she thought it was bad when it was contained, it was pure liquidated hell now. She couldn’t understand how toilet water masked a smell so well compared to poop being just on its own, but the odor was downright unbearable. What had her nearly faint was seeing just the smallest amount of brown tinge in the diaper snaked between her legs. She did that. It was her mess she made. A grown woman. Messing herself when she was perfectly capable of using the toilet. Before she could look any longer though, Joyce pushed her gently back down. “I don’t want you looking down there one bit, missy,” Joyce tutted disapprovingly. “Only Mommy gets to work down there, got it?” Her dominant assertion over Emily’s private parts actually made her giggle, surprisingly, considering how much turmoil she’d just been put through. She knew it was probably to protect her own sanity, and she was willing to go along with it. “Just lean back on your comfy cushion, okay?” Joyce brushed a lock of Emily’s hair. “Look at Mommy instead of the silly old diapie.” She shined her pearly whites with a gleeful smile. “Don’t I look pretty? Huh?” Before Emily could clearly react, a rush of tickles attacked her left foot. Squeals escaped her as she tried to wiggle, but it only made the mess she was sitting in worse. Thankfully Joyce realized that too, and the tickles stopped much faster than they usually would. “Ready to be clean?” Meekly, Emily nodded her head. During the change, Joyce’s nose had an involuntary twitch here and there, because truthfully the smell wasn’t so pleasant to her either. But it was all part of the package. She wanted Emily at her best times, as well as her worst. She’d be there every step of the way to make it all pleasant, and if not that, then bearable. Besides, someone had to keep her baby pretty. Wipes were applied liberally and even when Joyce was sure not a speck was left on her bottom, she ran through the motions once more. “A..Are you sure it’s clean?” Emily asked nervously. She’d hate to be trapped in a new diaper just to get it dirty again… She felt clean, but it’s not like she could say for certain. Then she suddenly yelped when the cold hand using the wipes took a playful squeeze as her bare bottom. “Clean as a whistle, and cute as a button!” Joyce snickered. “Anyways, I’ve been keeping that tush waiting long enough. Let’s get you into something clean.” A new, clean diaper was suddenly produced, and Emily was actually thankful to smell the powder rather than her own poop once again. She could for the moment regard her diaper simply as cushy and soft underwear. Nothing else. The strap to the table was undone and she’d been set back on the ground. “Alrighty, free to go!” Joyce clapped her hands together, as if she were to send the horses off to the races. “H...huh?” Awkwardly, Emily’s eyes gestured to her near-naked self. All she was wearing was a diaper, and Joyce planned to send her off? Joyce either didn’t see what she was getting at, or tactfully played dumb. “What’s wrong?” “Can’t I wear something? Maybe the onesie again?” She started to grow sheepish, asking for such childish clothing. “I think I want you to get used to just your diaper,” Joyce spoke simply, not so much as disturbing Emily, but throwing her into a senseless stupor. “What do you mean? I don’t wanna be naked!” “Remember you said you wanted me to have more control? I think this is what’s best for you right now,” she gave a reassuring kiss. “Besides, dinner might be messy, and I think you look cute right now?” Her casual tone made Emily’s heart skip a beat. Not only had she exercised the absolute rule Emily extended to her, but she so nonchalantly put Emily in her place. Put Emmy in her place. Unwilling to protest any further, looking intently at the ground, finding the puffed crotch of her diaper impossible to notice, she nodded her head. “Attagirl.” Emily with red cheeks looked back to Joyce, and suddenly felt caught off guard. It was the same look as before. Joyce’s eyes had narrowed, and her eyelids had lowered, as if she were trying to focus her view on her prey alone. She took a seductive approach; the steps of a creeping cougar rather than an affectionate mommy. Emily nearly gulped, and she was strangely excitedly ready for an intense and passionate kiss. Then what shattered such an intimate moment was when her diaper crinkled heavily, as Joyce gave it a fun squeeze. Looking back to her, the fire in her eyes had died, and Emily felt off-puttingly cheated, as well as embarrassed. Emily puffed her cheeks annoyingly, and Joyce merely giggled and spun her out the room. “Mommy’s a meanie, huh?” Her teasing even earned a smirk from Emily. “First she won’t let Emmy wear her clothes, and now she won’t give her kisses.” A finger tracing her spine then sent shivers down Emily’s naked back all over as the nail just touched the surface. “You go have some free time, okay? I’ll only be a little bit. I need to make sure there’s a ride for mom and dad tomorrow.” Walking down the hall, Emily yet again felt another need to cover up her chest, but the notion felt so useless around Joyce. She’d seen her naked time and time again. The efforts at this point seemed wasted. There wasn’t anything left to protect, and maybe it made Joyce happy seeing her like this… Emily was trying to find a way to enjoy this all, and in many degrees she really was, but she also wanted to please Joyce too. Alone in her office, Joyce picked up the phone, already dialing the number in mind. Again, she hated bothering staff near or during the weekend, but it was an unfortunate necessity. She sighed not out of annoyance of others, but precisely because of herself. To anyone other than Emily and family, it was just business, but she respected timely boundaries as well. Work should overflow as little as possible. Being a CEO may cause those rules to bend a little, but she made up for it in the countless other benefits along with it. The phone beeped silently for a few moments. “Charles? I’m fine, and you? That’s good to hear,” during the brief paused, she slightly pivoted in her chair, moving the mouse to her business computer, bringing the tower to life. “I’m sorry for calling you at a time like this, but would you be available tomorrow for a few hours?” Of course he’d say yes, but honestly Joyce wish he’d refuse. Charles was one of few workers she held with high regard. Probably because he worked so closely with her. She didn’t like to impose. “You will? Perfect. I’m sorry about taking up your time like this, you’ll be compensated, of course.” A sudden smile crept on her face. Not from Charles’ compliance, but something else. Something far more adorable. From the angle the camera was facing, her monitor gave her a live feed of the next room over. Propped on the couch, A practically naked Emily occupied herself with the ongoing tv. The light from the monitor slightly brightened Joyce’s own face, and her joyful expression. What really tied it all together though was her posture. Laying across the cushions, she laid her bare chest on top of her stuffed toy, Pip, and looked mildly content with what she was doing. It was everything Joyce wanted, and hoped it would someday be so for Emily too. There would be such a wonderful mix of both adult and infantile moments. It wasn’t even Joyce’s birthday, but it might as well have been. She felt so selfish, deriving pleasure from Emily’s big day. The only thing that kept her happy was knowing that it was mutual. And besides, she knew Emily would never let her feel sad. If only it could go on like this for longer… Her brief moment of thought was chased by the reminder of why she was calling. Why this moment couldn’t carry on into tomorrow. “Thank you again, Charles. I’ll send you the details soon. It’s an airport pickup for my parents. Have a good night. Bye.” The phone beeped, and Joyce set it back into the receiver. She had to call her mom one last time to verify the details, but other than that her business would be finished. She happily watched Emily for a few moments longer, only able to pry herself from it by reasoning that the faster she worked, the sooner she could stop being a spectator and become a participant. She was already wanting to cuddle with her little Emmy again! The emotional frustration though only made her heart flutter even more. Quickly, she dialed the last few digits. . .. … “Mom? Is that you? Hi, so I just wanted to...” The story's not dead! Promise. Will respond to comments soon. Sorry about the lateness! Please, as well, let me know your thoughts. I read all the comments, and appreciate them to no end! And again, just give me a little bit, and I'll give you all proper responses. Really, I can't thank you enough for the support and concern over the story's continuation. But just to be clear, it IS going to keep going. (I promise, not an April Fool's joke)

The Babysitter “Hannah!” her mom promptly called from downstairs, “Aren’t you gonna come and say goodbye when I leave?” “Yes, Mom!” back with just as much volume Hannah responded. Letting out a small sigh, being forced to put her phone activities on hold, and dreading for who was going to take her mom’s place for the night, she padded her naked feet across her carpeted room and into the hardwood halls. Descending the stairs, she could see by the front door her mom; dolled up in a navy blue dress, blonde hair decorated with curls, face with light amounts of makeup, and a pair of matching heels. She wore a simple silver-chain necklace, and was currently busy with the earings she always wore to match it. Each step of the way as Hannah got closer to the bottom, she could feel the slight shift in her underwear, and the small, yet noticeable bulk from her thicker than average underwear. It almost made her teary-eyed remembering just a few nights ago how far she’d fallen. Underneath her loose shorts, she could sometimes feel the elastic bands brush against her skin, and oh did it make her skin crawl. “Do you have to go out tonight, mom?” there was a tinge of whine in Hannah’s voice, and given what she could expect from tonight, it was well-justified. If it were within her power to prevent her mom from leaving at night, she’d do whatever possible. “It’ll only be for a little bit, sweetie,” her mom consoled, yet still busy looking into the mirror. “I promise I’ll give you a kiss goodbye, and one when I get back tonight,” her next statement was enough to get her to look at her daughter, though, “but don’t think that means you get to stay up.” Not only did she frown because her mom had no intentions of changing her plans, but also because Hannah had the pleasant reminder of her bedtime. 8:30 was such a cruel and unfair time to be sent to bed. It was when all the good shows started to come on! It wasn’t like this always. Maybe a month ago her mom used to be so much more lax compared to now. But now, Hannah already started to feel annoyed remembering the laundry list of unfortunate occurrences. And when she shuffled her legs, the plastic garment between her legs really threatened to bring back all her deep-seated hatred. Everything in her life had been fine. No bedtimes, no babysitters, no belittling, mandated bathtimes, child locks, or any other sort of thing that would defy the typical routine of a 14-year old girl. And especially, no pull-ups. “Can’t I have a later bedtime, please? Everyone else in my class can stay up until 10!” It was an exaggeration, and she didn’t really know how long everyone else could, but at least for her closer friends, she knew for a fact they didn’t get sent upstairs at 8:30. Hannah had tried to negotiate removing the limit altogether, but her mom had been hardwired to shut that idea down altogether. The best Hannah could try now was to mitigate what felt like her permanent losses. The cause of all this destruction and despair would be coming to watch her tonight, and like a calamity she never didn’t bring some sort of even worse development along with her. Since her last visit, Hannah’s mom had suddenly become relaxed to the idea of timeouts in the corner. For an eighth grade girl! It all started with the earlier bedtime, but originally it was 9:30! Then that damn babysitter, whatever she did, convinced her mom to not only give her one, but then knock it down by an hour! She didn’t even know her own mom anymore. She did, but it felt like Hannah’s mom was a proxy when it came to raising her daughter. The emotion was all there, but her rationale...it felt chillingly displaced. At times Hannah felt like she wasn’t seen as a 14-year old in the eyes of her mom. Certainly not when she’d been demoted to pull-ups full-time. It was another permanent life-changing act completely out of the blue, and seemingly taking place after the babysitter’s visit. And what scared Hannah even more was when she felt like she actually needed to depend on them. A few weeks earlier there wasn’t so much as an issue with her bladder whatsoever. But all it took were a few visits from the neighborhood teen, and Hannah was starting to feel...scarily uncertain about her own habits. Especially in class nowadays did she feel her newly weakened bladder strain the most. There were days where she was fine, and felt like a girl who had known panties for all her life, and was certainly misplaced in the underwear department. And others? Other days...she wasn’t so proud to admit that her pull-up wouldn’t be so dry by the time she reached a toilet... Some of her teachers were terribly restricting about letting students to the bathroom, but that never used to be an issue. Never until now. Never until her mom started hiring that woman. It all felt supernatural; the presence of her babysitter being enough to flip Hannah’s entire life upside down. She knew it was ridiculous to think that way, but the coincidence was almost terrifying… “I think 8:30 is a perfect time for you,” nonchalantly, Hannah’s mom like at many other times dismissed her plea. “I don’t want you staying up so late, anyways. You need your sleep, honey.” Using the only tool she had left in her arsenal, and one she hated more than anything to acknowledge, Hannah said, “B...but if I could stay up later, maybe I...maybe the chance of me wetting the bed would be smaller?” As the words came out she grew more and more meek, as well as embarrassed. This was one of the worst effects. With her pull-ups and unexpected bladder troubles, a certain absolute at night had become the bedwetting. A few weeks ago it was maybe once or twice a week. The next, it had upped itself to a steady three. Now? Now even Hannah knew going to bed without protection was non-negotiable, and expecting to wake up dry was wishful thinking. There wasn’t a single night left where she would wake up dry. And even if there was, her mom would probably write it off as a fluke, even if she would try and sound encouraging. Her mom merely looked sympathetic; signing how she was going to disappoint her daughter further, saying, “That’s an interesting idea, sweetie, but I don’t think the bedwetting will stop if we let you stay up later. Then you’d be tired, too.” Hannah’s cheeks burned, hearing her mom write off the bedwetting as a hopeless cause. But even if it were true, what else could she hope for if she didn’t fight? If she didn’t show some form of resistance, her mom’d probably think of it as the greenlight to stick her back into diapers! The sudden irony in her thought had her biting her lower lip in aggravation, though. For the daytime, that is. “Speaking of which,” her mom started to apply another light layer of lipstick, “I should probably pick you up another package of Pampers while I’m out…” she seemed to have made a mental note. “We’re starting to run a little bit low, and unfortunately your daytime pull-ups just won’t do the trick at night,” her voice trailed as her own appearance was clearly at the forefront of her mind, whilst her daughter felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Yes. She wore nighttime diapers. Her mom had taken advantage of the girl’s smaller than average size by using the largest size of Pampers they offered. What was even worse was the fit of the dreaded things. It was near perfect. They did their job well, and it was never a fun morning to see a yellow and discolored Elmo greeting her after a departure from pleasant dreams. She often stirred in her sleep, so somehow it was a common occurrence to partway slip off her pajama bottoms in her sleep, and sure enough showcase a liberal amount of her diaper while she slept. Hence why she stopped going to sleepovers as of late. Mornings were never fun, because not only was she guaranteed to wake up wet, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Her mom insisted on having exclusive control of her diapers, because she needed to know if her bedwetting “was improving or not.” But even from there she extended her personal control into the daytime section as well. Right after being let out of her diaper, it’d be straight into a pull-up her mom was sure to have ready for her. The gradual lack of control she was having over her own clothes was beyond annoying, and she had no idea how to solve it. How to solve any of this. “Can’t we please start using pull-ups instead? Nighties? Don’t they sell those?” in a desperate cry, Hannah tried to at least curb the infancy that was gradually increasing in her life. “They do, but not as cheap for what I can get your diapers for. And what’s wrong with those? Do you not like them?” “Of course I don’t like them!” Hannah continued to whine, a few tears in her eyes. “I’m not a baby, mom! Could you at least treat me like you’re supposed to?” Her mom’s brows furrowed, but she still never looked from the mirror. “The diapers can stop as soon as the bedwetting does,” her mom said, dimissing Hannah’s comment about disliking them. “But until then, I think you should be much more grateful that you can still fit in them.” As if she were supposed to appreciate a benefit exclusive to her mother’s pursestrings. She wanted to openly fume, but knew that her mom might suddenly be willing to dish out spankings now, too. Hannah didn’t want to test that theory, and angrily sulked on the stairs, feeling the slight press of her dry pull-up whilst she sat. “Can...can we at least change babysitters?” Again, totally oblivious to Hannah’s inner struggles, her mom questioned, “And why would we do that? I think Mary’s been doing a great job with you. You two have fun, don’t you? She always has good things to say.” Sure she did. Maybe for her mom, and how she could be a “better” parent her daughter. But for Hannah it was stupid. Whenever she’d come over, they’d talk about girl stuff, makeup, fashion, watch movies...eat a tasty dinner...play games… . .. … Okay, so what? Maybe she was alright. But god if she couldn’t be condescending sometimes! She reminded her so much of her mom now, or maybe it was better put as the other way around. It was partly why she suspected the girl without any real reason. Hannah was a young adolescent, but at the same time in Mary’s eyes just another charge she needed to look after. The sudden potty reminders that came with her demotion to pull-ups was beyond demeaning, but unfortunately more helpful than Hannah’d like to admit… “Listen Hannah,” her mom full turned from the mirror. “I know things have been tough lately with your potty training,” potty training? “but that’s no good excuse to vent in other ways. Mary has nothing to do with what’s been going on, and from the sound of it has been very supportive. You’re lucky to have a babysitter that doesn’t mind checking your pull-ups and putting on your nighttime diaper.” Oh how much a matter of perspective it was. Her mom could not even begin to imagine what it was like to be a kid, and try to live your life while being acknowledged as a toddler. And aside from all that, including this pointless conversation, Hannah still found herself hung up on the strange, and misplaced “potty training” remark. “Think you can chin up for me tonight and be good for Mary?” In a thoughtful voice, she spoke as if she assumed herself to be sweetening the pot. “Tell you what: be a good girl for Mary tonight, and keep that pull-up dry for the rest of the night too, and maybe we can talk about getting some panties back in your dresser?” As if instinct commanded, Hannah’s ears perked up at the sound of the last few words, though hating to have loved the thought of getting her panties back. But it was painful to remember she’d lost them in the first place. It was yet another shameful tactic of her mother to eliminate any “unnecessary distractions.” Hannah hadn’t known what it was like to wear underwear any thinner than at least an inch for almost a month now, and the thought welled her with despair. She was ashamed to admit that the deal sounded enticing… That being said, Hannah still hadn’t forgotten her mom’s previous comment. “But Mom, what did you say about-” She was interrupted by the ring of a doorbell. “Oh! She’s already here!” quickly dismissive of Hannah’s question, she already went for the door. “Is it really that time already?” her mom muttered to herself whilst Hannah rose from her seat on the stairs and followed behind. Her heart sunk as she knew who it was. The one she had such mixed feelings for. A caring and seemingly genuine person, but someone Hannah considered to be the root of her problems for no identifiable reason whatsoever. She’d been coming for so long, it was almost hard to distinguish whether the problems started before or after her arrival. “Mary!” “Ms. Finn!” The pair welcomed each other with happy greetings as they gave each other a hug. “You look beautiful, Ms. Finn!” happily commenting, the babysitter brushed part of her own black hair back, simply in awe at the mother’s appearance. “Really?” she looked thankful, and she looked down at herself one last time. “I was almost afraid I messed up somewhere along the way...” The two shared a laugh, and then Mary looked past Hannah’s mom, directly over to the shorter girl, mouthing a silent ‘hi’ with a gentle wave. A sudden chill crept over Hannah, or an odd sensation the very least. She assumed it as cold, namely because it felt as if all the warmth inside of her had just been drained. Drained, and...and absorbed…? Wordlessly, and lacking concern for her surroundings, Hannah pressed her hand against her crotch, and was more than displeased to find it warmer than a dry pull-up should be, and it was hardly a small accident by any sense of the word. Hannah did her best to grit her teeth and hope she could take care of the mishap unnoticed. “We’ve already been through the routine so much, I doubt there’s much need for a repeat,” Hannah’s mom chuckled, skipping the nightly introduction, much more upbeat and cheery than Hannah and the state of her pull-up. Mary, who looked to be the epitome of preppy senior high school girl, giggled in response as she probably felt the same way, but was far too polite to agree, nor state it first. She had her usual purse slung over her purple sweater, and swayed her hips the slightest bit, probably unintentionally, though all captured by her snug-fitting jeans. “But if you could,” Hannah’s mom started to sound apologetic, yet pleading, “please make sure Hannah gets to the potty on time?” on cue, Hannah could feel her dignity being shattered at that very moment. Mary listened intently, with just as much concern plastered on her face, yet coupled with much more confidence and assurance than Hannah was feeling right now. “It hasn’t been getting much better lately… I made a deal with her, and we’re both looking forward to seeing her make good on it,” she looked thoughtfully back to Hannah, who was trying her best to not be too agitated. “No problem at all, Ms. Finn,” Mary continued to smile. “I usually try to get them on the potty about every half hour. Even if they don’t know they need to go, it might help them realize in the future.” Them. It was such a vague word, yet far too inclusive than Hannah would like. It encompassed all the countless bedwetters and struggling daytime goers who had yet to fully master the potty, and Hannah had just been lumped in with them. Even if it was true, she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Mary came from a good place, but it still hurt no less. “Speaking of which, there’s no harm in checking now, I suppose...” catching Hannah of guard, her mom so casually knelt down in front of her, grabbing her shorts by the waistband and giving them a simple tug after a quick stroke with the button, easily slipping past the sleek pull-up, giving both her mom, and Mary an easy view of her borderline infantile underpants. “Uh-oh,” Mary was the first to sound sympathetic, and say it with a face as if she herself could feel the pain, “looks like you forgot to go, Hannah...” Hannah’s mom could only let out a small sigh in disappointment as she further embarrassed Hannah by giving the crotch an inspecting squeeze, which only seemed to upset her further given how warm it was. The telltale stars on front had faded; a system both her mom and the babysitter were far too experienced to not recognize. “And we just talked about this...” passively, her mom remarked. Hannah, unable to do much about her growing sobs now, stared at her mom, hopeful for forgiveness in place of the public embarrassment she’d just been forced into. “Could I please have a...” Hannah paused to sniffle, “a second chance?” Her mom smiled, but not in the way that Hannah wanted her to. It was the smile any parent would give when they were trying to soften the blow. There was a cruel fate hiding behind her mom’s expressions, and it was obvious because Hannah could tell she was trying to protect her from it. And with few places to go; few steps left until total babydom, she quivered at what might be in store for her. “Maybe we can try tomorrow,” she took a moment to hoist Hannah’s wet pull-up back into place, and the shorts came right after, despite normally being the first one to suggest getting her changed into a new one whenever this sort of thing happened. And unfortunately, it did happen more than once. But this time, it felt as if Hannah had taken another step back, and her mom wasn’t feeling so prompt to stick to the potty training regimen anymore. “But...but mom…!” She always had her get changed whenever she’d wet her pull-up, even when she was right about to leave! But that second command didn’t follow, and Hannah could feel herself wanting to desperately cling to her pull-ups now; prove that she could keep them dry. Hannah wanted her mom to get mad; angrily change her into a dry pull-up. At least that way she’d know that her mom still held expectations for her. Yet...yet, they never came. “I need to get going now, sweetie. Just...just don’t worry about this for now, okay?” She kissed the broken Hannah on the forehead. “I want you to have a fun night with Mary.” Still, Hannah felt like her mom had lost a fragment of hope; respect for her daughter, as she stood back up. She gave her daughter a pensive, lingering look for a few moments longer, then shifted her focus. “Same as usual, Mary,” Hannah’s mom transitioned back into her happy self again, now that it wasn’t about her daughter’s failed attempt to keep her pants dry. “8:30, and in a nighttime diaper, please.” Still all smiles, Mary assured her yet again, and then her mom grabbed her purse sitting on the table near the door. “Come on, Hannah,” Mary politely suggested in a hushed tone, gesturing to the sulking girl. “Mommy’s leaving! You need to say goodbye!” As if her mom were in agreeance too, she made the awkward ordeal even easier by getting on one knee again with open arms. Hannah was the one to close the distance, despite being terribly mindful of the wet bulk between her legs, as well as how it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. It wasn’t massive, but it was certainly there, and Hannah could tell, much like her mom and Mary could. Hannah was actually thankful for the hug and kiss, because it felt reassuring in spite of what’d just happened. Her mom had been disappointed, yet at least this way Hannah still knew she loved her… Though, what Hannah did her best to stomach was when she was wrapped in her mom’s arms, she could feel the back of the waistband to her shorts and pull-up being tugged at now. “Mom…!” flustered, unable to properly react, Hannah could only tearily whine the culprit’s name, and be relieved once her underwear finally slipped back into place. “Sorry, sweetie. I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any surprises in the back, either.” She let out a small laugh; the kind that was trying to force an already bad situation into something more upbeat. But for Hannah, it was just another insult to her pride; a sign of how far she’d fallen in the eyes of her mother. In the eyes of herself. Never once had she messed herself, and even amidst all this turmoil, that was the one thing Hannah was positive would never happen to her. It was an iron absolute, and she’d be damned if someone suggested otherwise. Her mother already expressed her doubts by checking in the back… It made Hannah feel terrible. It hadn’t even been a whole 15 minutes and she’d shattered the expectations her mom had set for her. The ones that were meant to last the entire night. With her final goodbyes, Hannah’s mom wished them both a good night. Mary saw her off as she slipped out the door, and the responsible teen was sure to lock the door from behind. As soon as she left, Hannah felt as if a weight had been both simultaneously lifted and dropped on her shoulders. Her mom had finally left, and the lingers of disappointment in the room didn’t feel so potent now. But on the other hand, she was now alone with the mysterious anomaly which seemed to unintentionally cause so much havoc. It was likely paranoia, but Hannah still couldn’t shake the strange feeling… And when Hannah moved, she could feel one last small spurt of pee escape her; a likely remainder to the full wetting she apparently hadn’t finished. It was enough to remind her of her helplessness though, as tears started to silently roll down her cheeks. The much more chipper Mary turned from the door after watching the mother’s car leave the driveway and was stricken with concern as she saw Hannah devolve into a miserable mess. “Hannah? Honey, what’s wrong?” quickly she came to the girl’s aid, although much to Hannah’s dismay, as she tearily noted the girl who was a mere handful of years older than her used such a condescending pet name. But even in spite of all that, it did little to shift the focus of Hannah’s tears. “Because!” Hannah frustratingly spat, feeling a small urge to stomp her foot. “I can’t do one simple thing! I’ve been wearing these stupid pull-ups for weeks now, and it’s only getting worse!” The vocal admittance only made Hannah cry harder, as her world came crashing down. Her mom was probably busy thinking how she could ease her back into diapers right now; do away with the hopeless struggle between panties and pampers altogether. “Hey, hey...” Mary continued to sooth as she started to rub Hannah’s back. “Why are you being so hard on yourself?” “I’m not supposed to be wetting my pants, Mary!” Hannah irritatingly shouted. It wasn’t Mary’s fault, probably. It’s not like she put the pee in Hannah’s pull-up for her, but she didn’t feel in the mood for pointless consoling. Words wouldn’t make this better. Words wouldn’t keep her pull-ups dry. “It’s just a small hiccup, that’s all,” seemingly unbothered by Hannah’s annoyance, she pulled the girl in for a hug. “I know you’re gonna get over this, trust me. I’ve seen it all the time.” Sniffling, Hannah responded, “re...really?” “Of course!” with a more positive tone, likely seizing the opportunity to make the sun shine once again, Mary responded with enthusiasm. “In fact, I know some kids that haven’t had trouble with just peeing, either...” leaning in close, Mary shared her encouraging gossip. “And even those kids were able to bounce back,” she leaned back, as if the invisible spectators were allowed to hear now. “So I know you can too!” “But...” Hannah was listening with inspiration, but the reality of her mistakes was still much more tangible than her hopes. “But my mom…! You saw how she reacted! She probably hates me right now. How is she supposed to trust me if I can’t last 20 minutes?!” “She might be a little upset, sure,” Mary conceded, but was quick to not let the negative statement last for too long, by adding, “but she still loves you very much. Nothing would change that.” It was only her babysitter saying those words, but they felt oddly reassuring… “I just want her to treat me fairly again...” sadly, Hannah spoke with better days on her mind. “Nothing I say seems to get through to her anymore.” Hannah grimaced already from remembering the diapers debate. “Well, you know I have a way with words?” temptingly, Mary spoke with the slightest amount of hopeful mischief in her voice. “Really?!” Suddenly all-ears now, Hannah for the first time that night clearly stared at the teen with genuine hope; rays of salvation shining in her eyes. Mary hadn’t explicitly said she’d do anything, but her allusions were far too obvious to not assume. “Sure, why not?” Mary smirked, knowing full well she’d just coaxed her happy charge back out of a dreary spell. “I can let your Mommy know it was one big fluke, because it was, right?” she looked at Hannah for confirmation, who nodded her head until it was ready to fall off. “I think she’ll understand after I let her know what a good night we had. Because that’s what we’re gonna do, right?” again, although slightly more reluctant, Hannah agreed once more. And as a side note, Hannah was once more attentive to her babysitter’s mannerisms, this time being the mention of “mommy” instead of a simple “mom.” Strange, but not nearly enough for Hannah to say anything, especially when this was the person who could finally talk some sense into her mom. “Great. Then that’s what’s gonna happen!” Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Mary tickled the center of Hannah’s palm with the nail of her thumb; something she always liked to do. Giving her skin the tickles though, Hannah quickly pulled hers away, as it’d already given her arm goosebumps. “But before we kick the night off, do you wanna get into something a bit more dry?” trying to be mindful, Mary notioned towards Hannah’s wet pull-up. Blushing, Hannah silently agreed. “I’ll meet you upstairs, then,” she patted Hannah affectionately on the head. “Give me just a few minutes?” Hannah didn’t wait long after until she was already headed up the stairs. She was more than capable of changing her own pull-ups, but again, her mom had made it a point to limit access to both herself and Hannah’s babysitter. In that regard it was the one silver lining to these things. They could slip off as easily as they came on; just like panties. But whenever her mom put her in her nighttime diapers, they were staying on for the night. That’s what made some of the earlier nights especially frustrating. She’d wake up feeling the tight stretch on her bladder, only to be forced to wet the diaper because her mom wouldn’t let her take it off. Last time she did it ended in a timeout, and no phone for the day... Hannah could only sigh in relief now that she had someone on her side for once. It’d always been a one-sided battle, but not anymore now that Mary was with her. Maybe...maybe she wasn’t so bad after all? Mindlessly, Hannah slipped her hands into her front pockets as she felt as if she were on cloud 9 right about now. Things were finally going right, and all she needed to do tonight was relax. And she did. Far more than she would have liked. A sudden rush of pee slithered from out of her bladder, and unannounced it pooled into her pull-up. Just at the top of the stairs, Hannah gasped in a panic as she was helpless to stop her second accident. She felt worse with every ounce her underwear absorbed, and nearly screamed when it became clear she’d pushed the thing far beyond capacity. The dribble slapping against the hardwood sounded like a jet engine once it leaked through her denim shorts and collided with the ground. Frozen in place, her face contorted with shame as her body finished its business, and she became a spectator to her own bladder which had a mind of its own. What...what happened?! She barely felt anything at all! And didn’t she just wet? So why was it already happening again so soon?! “Hannah?” Mary’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs, already getting closer. “Do you have a pull-up ready?” Still silent, Hannah’s mind raced a mile a minute as she couldn’t even begin to figure how she was going to get out of this one. Much worse, she’d probably just guaranteed that Mary would be backing out on their deal. Even Hannah couldn’t blame her. She wanted it to be a fluke, but this was far too coincidental. The front of her shorts and around the legs were harshly dampened, and there was a small puddle of pee sitting on the wood. Even in front of the light mix of brown and orange wood could she still see the distinct, yellow tint. “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned...up…?” Mary started her sentence with a casual tone, but it quickly morphed into confusion as she rounded the corner on the stairs to see Hannah planted awkwardly on top of them. There was one small, final drip from the edge of her shorts, and when it made its tiny plop with the ground, the house stayed silent. “H...Hannah...” “Why…?” the single word was simple, set packed with every negative emotion the young girl could imagine and drum up within herself. She questioned not herself, nor Mary, but fate which had dealt her these cards. Sodden and sopping, her legs were now far apart. “I just went...so why?” As she emptily murmured, as pair of arms wrapped around her neck, and hung themselves downward. Feeling the bigger girl press from behind her, the sign of affection and comfort was much too overwhelming to not have a breakdown. “I don’t get it!” between her sobs, Hannah shouted. “I can barely tell when I need to go!” Having a single accident was already bad enough, but a second one and so ridiculously soon was enough to mentally push her over the edge. She didn’t want Mary’s hug to stop, but it didn’t make her feel much better. “Hannah, please,” Mary spoke hurtfully, as if the girl’s distress were poison to her. “I want you to focus on having fun tonight! Can we please not stress over the small stuff?” “This isn’t small, though!” The disconnect between the two was now clear, given that wet pants only seemed to matter to the one responsible for them. “Everytime I screw up, my mom uses it as a reason to baby me even more!” There was no room for failure, because anything short of success meant two more permanent steps back, which is why every mishap had the weight of the world crashing on her. “Come on, Hannah, please, I just wanna make you happy again!” She spun the girl around so that she could meet her eye to eye, but Hannah looked no less sadder, and if anything, worse. She didn’t want to meet the face of someone who caught her pants covered in pee. “Go ahead!” Hannah spat bitterly, already knowing what was to follow now. “Tell my mom I wet myself again. Tell her...” Hannah’s bottom lip quivered, finishing her words, “tell her I can’t handle pull-ups...” “Hannah, there’s no need to be so upset...” Mary continued to speak in calming tones and coos, clearly involved in her efforts to make things right again. “How about...” Mary seemed to be thinking for a moment, “how about we sweep this under the rug altogether? All of tonight? As far as I’m concerned, no accidents ever happened, and we got you to the potty whenever you needed it.” It was a godsend, and it was the next best thing compared to dropping off the face of the planet; escape her irreversible mistakes. But it almost felt like she were dreaming. The deal sounded too good to be true. “But why?” Hannah’s sobs started to die down as she rubbed her eyes, “why would you do that for me?” Mary gave Hannah’s cheek a light stroke, smiling, “because I hate seeing you so sad, silly. I’d much prefer seeing you with a smile!” Unintentionally, an involuntary smirk escaped Hannah over the overflowing affection, which had Mary laughing happily. “Now come on, no more tears,” Mary spoke reassuringly, giving Hannah a few final pats. “Want some help getting cleaned up?” Mary asked, holding an outstretched hand. Hannah eyed it almost nervously, but given how accepting Mary had been, as well as helpful, it almost felt wrong to deny her any further...and she felt like she could honestly use an emotional crutch right about now. Accepting the girl’s soft, yet firm hand, they made a brief walk to the bathroom, whilst Hannah grimaced from needing to take normal strides in pee-covered pants. The added layers to it all just made it feel wrong. She was in a soaked pull-up, but on top of that so were the clothes covering it. It was like she shouldn’t have been wearing the pull-up at all. Now it just felt like an unnecessary barrier; delaying the inevitable. Inside the white-tiled bathroom, Mary stood Hannah in place. Just as Hannah was about to go for her shorts, Mary had already been working at the button before she herself could even actualize the thought. While the right to remove her own pants were taken from her, Hannah longingly looked at the toilet. It felt like she was seeing a stranger, or a long lost friend. A once well-acquainted pair now becoming more estranged with each ‘little accident’ she had. To use it was a sign of maturity, and though it was so close right now; in the flesh, it couldn’t have felt any farther away. What was a cruel reminder to dismiss the big-girl thoughts and to remember exactly why she was using the toilet less and less, was when she felt her shorts taking a brief moment to work themselves around the puffy crotch of her underwear. It wasn’t a fun sight to see, and was a stark contrast to the simple colors and plain designs Hannah was so used to seeing in normal panties. Along with the thin, breathable fabrics, flexible feel, and sense of maturity, everything Hannah had known to be commonplace in regards to her underwear had been shifted entirely. In place of her comfortably-cut panties that knew just how to maintain a level of modesty without being so overbearing, a pink pull-up decorated in moons and stars--correction, once decorated in moons and stars, now sagged heavily around her hips in place of what all her friends had the privilege of wearing. Instead, for Hannah, she was stuck with the underwear that had clearly been pushed beyond its comfortable capacity for absorbency’s sake. Hannah started to blush again being back on full display, but for the most part it was all in her head, given that she could feel no ridicule coming from Mary; just sympathy. “Step out for me, please?” Reluctantly, and while Mary still had a hold on Hannah’s wet shorts, she could feel the wet denim brush across her skin and damp inner thighs as Mary lowered them to her ankles. She stepped out of the one thing barely coming even close to hiding her shame. Maybe in another, dryer life they had done their job well, but now the wet stains on them were far too telling. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Think you’ll be good for a few minutes?” The question was probably rhetorical, but seeing as Hannah had just had two accidents within a handful of minutes between each other, she didn’t receive it that way… Mary sauntered off and out of the bathroom, with Hannah’s wet shorts in hand; the last article which shrouded her absorbent indignity. Left with only but her thoughts, Hannah could only find that by focusing on her bladder 100% did she feel any real sense of security. Although she wasn’t sure how certain it was, the next pull-up would certainly not face the same fate as this one; not by a longshot. This time with a tinge of smugness, Hannah forgot about how silly she might seem, clad in a wet pull-up, when she looked at the toilet; certain of where she’d be next time nature called. It wouldn’t be fun to be changed into a pull-up by Mary, and also make constant trips to the bathroom, assuming what she said earlier was true, but even Hannah knew that some of the tougher things in life were simply worth fighting for. She was already caught in a poor streak, and she’d do anything to fix that now. Just as she was about to start counting bathroom tiles, Mary’s distant footsteps could be heard again, and they grew louder and louder until she had returned. With a skirt, and likely a pull-up bundled underneath it, she held the items in one hand and a package of wipes in the other. Seeing the “Baby Wipes” branding on it didn’t make Hannah feel great, but reaffirming herself, she grit her teeth. If she could get through a little bit of humiliation now, she could be the mature, young adult which fate was hellbent on trying to prevent. “Ready to get all cleaned up?” Mary smiled as she looked at the red-faced girl, quickly coming to terms with how her bark was certainly larger than her bite. Meekly, she nodded her head as Mary inched closer, kneeling to the ground to have a better handle on her charge. “M...Mary?” Hannah quickly broke the silence, suddenly feeling desperate to have some sort of distraction. She didn’t feel herself wanting to take in each and every speck of what was about to happen. “Mhm? What’s up?” Mary responded with a casual tone, despite doing something so embarrassing to Hannah as she tore the sides of her wet pull-up, and the underwear for a brief moment still clung to her skin. The adhesion caused from her recent accidents still remained, and clearly feeling uncomfortable, Hannah wiggled her hips the slightest bit just to get the accursed thing off. Thankfully it didn’t take long for the motions to separate the thing from her skin, and it hit the ground with a slight crinkle and squish; one last reminder to what had been done in it. No tears. I’m done wetting myself, remember? “Wh...why do you babysit?” Hannah asked, feeling her heart beat faster as the circumstances grew more and more unappealing. She’d probably asked before, but she was too flustered to really think about the semantics; too desperate for a conversation, or an outlet for her attentions. She watched as the girl she wanted respect from changed her wet pull-up into a dry one. How could she be seen as an equal if she couldn’t even keep her underwear dry? She felt small, and as if Hannah were unconsciously looking for a reason to belittle herself further, she took glaring notes of how Mary curved all over. And here Hannah was, with only curves coming from the crotch of her inflated pull-up. In regards to Hannah’s question, whether she had asked before on a previous night or not, Mary didn’t seem to give any indication, as she answered, “Well...I suppose I’ve always liked taking care of kids, you know?” The way she ended it on a “you know,” wasn’t actually what she meant, but was a typical way of ending an answer even you weren’t sure of yourself. Hannah wasn’t keen to hear that she fell into that category right now. Needing to be taken care of. She had figured the babysitting would have stopped this year after her fourteenth birthday, but she suddenly jolted as the cold, wet wipe touched her skin. “Sorry about that, I know it’s a little cold...” Mary spoke, looking genuinely apologetic. Hannah blushed furiously as what was already happening came to the forefront of her mind. Her babysitter had a full view of her privates, and private toilet habits, and she was in charge of both of them. Hannah grimaced to herself as she thought about Mary. She was old; a teenager getting ready to move onto college; primed for handling adult responsibilities, and long past the issue of holding her bladder. She didn’t wear pull-ups, and she didn’t have to worry about wetting the bed. Well, neither did Hannah, but that was because of certain ‘protective’ measures… Almost shaking her head from side to side, just to chase the thought away, she tried to take stock in a mundane bar of soap in the shower while Mary did her work. She wanted to disobey, and insist on doing it herself. Sure, she’d never personally handled her own cleanup after something like this, but that’s because her mom never let her! It was people like Mom and Mary who were supposed to take charge, but Hannah wanted to prove them wrong. But, if she did try to protest, she’d likely only make trouble for Mary...and she was honestly trying to help. Just as she was becoming desensitized to the cold wet wipe, Mary ended it with a few last strokes between the legs, then discarded the wipe. “I probably should have gotten a towel...” passively, Mary remarked, looking around to see where they might be. But Hannah didn’t really pay any attention, because now that they’d run the first two laps, she felt confident that she could send it home. “Wait, Mary?” Hannah asked again, garnering Mary’s attention once more. Suddenly, she tried not to mind how she was naked from the waist down, but rather focused on wanting to be the one who changed that. “Can...can I put on the pull-up myself?” Mary was silent for a moment, then said,“W, well...I don’t see why not,” almost sheepishly answering, but smiled with an expression that uncomfortably told Hannah that she was hiding something. Something Hannah was afraid to discover. “But...” her voice trailed, as her eyes moved over to the skirt wrapped around the pull-up. Despite Mary’s unusual awkwardness, Hannah was already swelling with pride to finally have a sense of agency. Confidently, she made a small stride to the pull-up underneath, and grabbed it through the skirt’s fabric. But clearly the skirt was thick, because the folded pull-up within it certainly felt so. F...folded? Unwrapping the pull-up from the skirt, Hannah pulled it into clear view as she realized what was in her hand wasn’t a pull-up. Far from it. As she stared down at the white garment, all too familiar Elmo caricatures stared at her with smiling expressions. Panic had seized her voice, as Hannah wordlessly continued to stare at the diaper, in utter shock from its sudden and untimely arrival. What had it done with her pull-up? Suddenly, she felt as if she were looking at an enemy which had disposed of her treasured friend. She felt like she could gag when she squeezed the thick layer of plastic and cotton, all wrapped into a disposable, infantile package. This was only supposed to come out right before bed! So...so why? With disappointed curiosity, she turned back to Mary, on the verge of breaking into two. Now she understood why Mary had answered so reluctantly. Hannah could put on the next pull-up. That is, if there ever was a next time. “A diaper?” thickly Hannah whined. “I only wear these for bed! I’m supposed to be wearing pull-ups!” She wanted to say panties, but she at least wanted to sound rational… “I know, Hannah I know,” quick to console, Mary put a comforting hand on Hannah’s shoulder, but she still felt terrible. “But will you at least hear what I have to say? Please?” Already wiping a frustrated tear from her eye, Hannah remained silent, apart from her sniffles. Mary must have assumed the silence meant yes, because she continued. “Hannah, you’ve already had two accidents since I got here, and we’ve still got a lot of nighttime left...” the way she spoke in such an unintentionally condescending way, suggesting that Hannah wasn’t up to the challenge. “I know you want to wear your pull-ups,” she spoke as if she knew Hannah down to a T, when that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Hannah by no means wanted to wear these stupid things at all! She wanted panties, not some childish substitute! Pull-ups were at least the limbo between adulthood and babydom, and right now Hannah was having a breakdown because she was swaying the wrong way. “But I really think we should have you wear one of these tonight,” she gently removed the diaper from Hannah’s hand. And as Hannah watched her expressions, it made her want to cry even more. Despite how much evil her babysitter was unleashing upon her, all she seemed to harbor within was kindness and concern. She thought she was helping Hannah, and maybe objectively she was, but Hannah didn’t want to see it that way. If she didn’t resist, that would imply acceptance, and there was no way she’d resign herself to pull-ups; especially diapers. Irrationally hoping Mary might discard her own logic, Hannah pleadingly asked again, “But why? Why can’t I just wear pull-ups? I’ll be better, I promise!” “And I know you will,” Mary consoled, taking Hannah’s empty hand, doing the same thing she’d always do with her thumb. “Because I want you to know that I won’t think any less of you for wearing one. Think about it this way: I’m the one who forced you to wear it, so that way there’s no reason to beat yourself up over it,” she looked to Hannah as if it were a suitable solution. Maybe that idea could have worked somewhat if Hannah were 7, and the very person responsible for it didn’t give her the idea. By openly suggesting it, it was as if they both silently acknowledged it was a lie. Mary was the one forcing her, but someone or something had to have forced her hand first… Despairingly, Hannah looked at the diaper, knowing that once she was in, there was no getting out. “But what happens when I need to use the bathroom?” “Well...” Mary looked to be thinking hard, and her delay to answer felt as if Hannah’s worst fears were about to be confirmed. “To tell you the truth, you don’t have a lot of diapers left… One more, actually.” The sudden remark had sent a chill up Hannah’s spine. One more?! Did she really go through a package of 20 that fast? Maybe she really was helpless… “One more we can use tonight,” Mary added, barely doing much to break Hannah from her depressed state. “I already set one aside for bedtime.” Hannah wasn’t sure how it made anything different, other than trying to be a convenience to her mom. And frankly, her mom’s feelings were the last thing she cared about right now. “If you need to go...” Mary still looked not to be totally onboard with what she was saying, but continued, “I don’t see too much harm in taking you to the potty.” Finally, with a ray of hope in sight, Hannah looked at Mary as if she were her savior, and was all smiles yet again. “But if you don’t make it,” she transitioned into a friendly, yet serious warning, “we’re not gonna talk about using the potty for the night, okay? Those tapes can only come off so many times. They need to stay on to do their job.” Hannah didn’t even want to consider her final clause. The assertiveness she packed into the threat of permanent confinement was scary, but Hannah knew she’d never let it slip that far. She’d never fall so far as to let these dumb things “do their job.” Mary had paused to keep searching for a towel, and her efforts were rewarded once she opened the closet. Pulling one out, she unfolded it and draped it over the floor, giving it a signaling pat for Hannah to lay down. Nearly gulping, Hannah while keeping her thighs close together wiggled over, and debating whether to actually go through with this or not, she was rushed along by Mary’s firm, yet gentle hands on her shoulders. “The sooner we get started, the sooner it’ll be over,” Mary encouraged as Hannah laid her back on the towel, or rather, Mary gently forced her to. With her hands covering her privates, her feeble attempts to maintain some sense of dignity were lost when Mary once again with guiding force set them aside. This probably would have been her cue to say something like, “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” or, “We’re both girls, aren’t we?” But maybe the mind games were so deep at this point she knew that Hannah was thinking the same thing, because nothing was said. The whole process felt wrong. It was like having breakfast for dinner. Something you did every day, just at the totally wrong time. Being diapered for any other occasion than sleeping wasn’t a welcomed change, and it certainly felt strange. If she closed her eyes, which she did, it almost felt like her mom was changing her. Despite Mary only being a teen, it still felt like Hannah was being handled by a motherly figure, which she didn’t appreciate. She did, but she didn’t, namely because it widened the already decent age gap between the two. Diapering her though expanded that wedge by light years. How could Hannah talk to her about boys when she was too busy trying to keep her pants dry? Why learn how to do her own makeup when she could be taught how to change her own diaper instead? Nothing was fair, and the compassion Mary was using on Hannah to ease her into it was equally as pleasant as it was condescending and demeaning. Mary was a caretaker first, and a friend second. The change was concluded by Mary drawing the front up between Hannah’s legs, then pressing on the tapes. Normally her pajamas would come next, but in its place was a skirt. Such revealing clothing was immediately a turnoff, but Hannah didn’t bother arguing, already expecting a slew of reasons why she should be wearing a skirt rather than pants. One of the most glaring and personal ones though was that her normal pants and shorts probably wouldn’t fit over it...When Mary stood her back up, the plastic leg bands crinkled loudly. Much louder than her pull-ups. Was it weird to say that she was already missing them? “Okay, I need to go clean something up, but in a little bit how about we play a game or something?” Mary suggested, and though she made no obvious indication of it, they both knew what mess she had to clean up. If Hannah had somehow hit her head of the concrete and forgotten what’d just happened maybe 15 minutes ago, she’d certainly remember when she saw the puddle of pee going back downstairs. “Sound good?” “Mhm...” Hannah quietly answered, still trying to find her land legs; adjusting to such a massive paradigm shift in her underwear. “Don’t worry about what’s happened already,” Mary chimed in as Hannah was walking away. “I’m sure tonight is still gonna be fun!” Maybe it was, if Hannah could just forget about one of the most traumatic things she’d ever done. What made her suddenly yelp though was a light swat from behind, hitting her crinkly, yet thankfully dry diaper. Clutching the imaginary wound through her skirt as if she’d been shot, Hannah looked back at Mary with burning cheeks. Mary blinked simply with a smile, and without letting the silence linger for too long, Hannah stormed off and out of the room. It was the moments like these where her perception of Mary could change entirely. She didn’t know if she was kind, caring, or teasing and mean. For the most part she was nice, though… Maybe she just didn’t realize some of the things she did? Avoiding the puddle of pee like the plague, Hannah walked down the stairs and into the living room, hoping some tv might be able to save her from this endless nightmare. Thankfully the entertainment at least did something for her. Laying on her side, yet making sure her skirt was covering everything underneath it, she mindlessly watched the moving pictures while in a mix of thought and observation. And as she watched, the commercials, shows and noise all started to blend together. She could almost imagine a hum in the background too. It was all so...soothing. Her eyelids grew heavier as she laid there, and she closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then for a few more. Then a minute. Then five. And then, they didn’t open back up. Dozing off for well an hour, when Mary nudged her awake, Hannah, still groggy, couldn’t place why Mary looked so concerned. What was up with her? “Hannah, hon, are you okay?” “Hn? Mary? What are you…?” “I think you took a little nap...” Hannah moved while Mary spoke, and a sudden, wet, cold chill pressed against her thigh. Looking over, there seemed to be a large, dark splotch on the gray couch. No...she hadn’t. But she had. Even if it was a nap, a bedwetter is always a bedwetter… Sleep did not discriminate… “These aren’t too good for side sleepers, huh?” Mary chuckled sadly, clearly seeming sympathetic. She placed a soft hand on the drier of the two thighs, and Hannah tried her best not to sob. “Don’t worry,” Mary smiled; that same face she’d always give in the face of despair. Unmoving, inalienable positivity. “We still have one more diaper!” Looking much more somber though, she added, “But a deal’s a deal...” No more toilet. “...Can I put some on?” trying to stay calm, yet with a clear hint of desperation, Hannah asked. Normally she’d never feel the need to ask permission to put on her own underwear, but it was almost frustrating to think she didn’t even recognize them as her own anymore… “...Sure,” Mary happily answered after a few moments of thought. “A little encouragement is good every once in a while, I guess. But the diaper stays on,” still kind, yet with authority Mary added. After the diaper change, Mary talked her into a game of hide and seek. Reluctantly, Hannah agreed, given that there was nothing which would seem to put her in a good mood now… She was the hider, and Mary was the seeker. Without any real reason she chose her mom’s room, hoping to burrow herself under the bed. Though in the process of that, she found something much, much more intriguing. A seemingly simple cardboard box, upon opening it was the jackpot itself. Sanctuary. Valhalla. The equivalent of any sort of salvation, and sanctum! Pulling apart the cardboard flaps, in it was all the panties that’d been removed from her dresser. Forgotten friends, Hannah had just discovered what her mom had done with them all! The more she stared at them, the greater the desire was to have a pair around her hips. Hannah hated to think that this was a tease more than a grand return to adulthood, but staring at the pile of cloth underwear made her feel like she’d just discovered buried treasure. It was enough to make her forget almost entirely about her current circumstances, and how far she’d fallen. Settling on a pair of blue and white striped ones, Hannah stared at the pair of panties in her hands, knowing full well that they would fit her. They were once hers, after all. Bringing them to her feet, she could feel the bulk of the diaper between her legs as she slightly moved them apart. Stepping her feet into one hole, and then the other, it felt euphoric to feel the wonderful fabric slide across her legs as she drew them up. So wonderful, a tiny meep escaped her when a small spurt of pee escaped her. She had no intention of telling Mary, though. Something other than plastic leg bands were around her thighs though, and that’s what mattered the most. It would have been perfect, only until instead of slipping across her skin, pressing against her groin, the panties instead slipped over the crotch of the crinkly diaper. Obviously peeking from all ends, the white, infantile diaper overflowed from all openings where the panties ended; a harsh and morbidly humorous contrast. She wanted to feel good about wearing panties again, but the diaper which sat between her and the panties was too demoralizing. It was like her bladder was a prisoner, and her panties had been so kind as to visit her while in confinement, and the diaper like any detention center kept visitors out. “Feel good?” Mary hopefully asked, fully unaware of how Hannah was feeling on the inside now. Hannah would likely die inside if she looked in a mirror. Although it was nice to think she was wearing panties again, she probably would have looked like a poor excuse for a young adolescent right now. Probably a toddler who got a little bit too excited and thought they were ready to be a big kid a little too early. Rather than a pair of panties, you could probably call it a diaper cover that was doing a poor job… Quietly, Hannah sniffled. She didn’t think getting what she wanted would have felt so terrible. “Come on,” Mary broke the silence, tickling her palm with her thumb. “Ready to go brush your teeth?” A familiar tingle sparked through Hannah’s hand, and a strange wave of relief washed over her, coming from the hand. As if all her muscles suddenly relaxed, she felt slightly sluggish as comfort overcame her. But with it, a sudden pressure in her bowels too. No. You can’t be serious. “M...Mary, I...” Hannah tried to plead, but her body seized all over, and she was afraid to be denied on the grounds of their earlier promise. Helplessly, she could feel her body force itself into a squatting position. “Hannah, are you alright?” Hannah tried to grit her teeth, as the force was too strong for her to stop. She didn’t even try to run to the bathroom, coupled by a list of reasons. If she ran, the cramps would probably give way and she’d do it on the way over, and Mary may not even let her. The diaper’s tapes wouldn’t happily go on afterwards, and that would probably upset the babysitter further… As the unyielding force finally drew to the exit, a helpless grunt escaped Hannah as her cheeks involuntarily spread for the rude guest currently making its way through. She could hear the diaper’s backside crinkle as she filled it with poo, forcing the back of the diaper to expand. Instantly she devolved into whimpers and cries as the mess settled itself and slowly snaked from her backside into the seat of her pants, and with muddy squishes conformed to the shape of her diaper, creeping between her legs. It smelled terrible, and Hannah took exasperated breaths as her diaper suddenly felt much heavier, and clung to her skin in the worst imaginable way possible. And in the middle of her messing, the pressure hit too close to her bladder, which is why it released itself as well, but with significantly less strain. After the rush of pee finished its course, squatting in a soiled diaper, Hannah could only fall to her knees as she cried. “It...it was an accident!” desperately, Hannah tried to coherently plead through her tears, and her vision was too blurred to see Mary. She tried to remain as still as a statue from the waist down, irrationally hoping that there was some way she could be absolved of this very literal mess without needing to move. She could only imagine how comical she looked; a bulge coming from the back of her diaper, and by extension the panties she tried to wear over it. Her underwear was a living oxymoron; wearing adult panties over a baby diaper she just messed. It was all too overwhelming. Everything was crashing, and she was right at the center of all the wreckage. “Come on, honey, think you can stand up for me?” Mary at some point had taken Hannah’s hands into hers, though not doing her signature palm massage. She spoke almost somberly, yet with a likely reserved cheeriness to coax Hannah out of her worries. “If you want to be clean again, we can’t have you sitting here!” again, trying one last time to be upbeat. The tears kept coming regardless. And as Mary consoled Hannah, Hannah noted that amongst all the kind and encouraging words, not a single one of them regarded it as an unfortunate accident. Despite being in such emotional turmoil, Hannah was aware enough to know that she wasn’t being treated as a girl working on pull-ups. Quite the opposite. The way Mary eased her back onto her feet, and gave the waistband of her diaper a reassuring upwards tug, though the slight jostle just made the mess even worse. Not like it mattered, because she had to start walking--no, waddling, eventually. Now it was Mary’s turn to seem like her mom. Just like when she walked out the door earlier this night. Both of them had silently lost faith in Hannah, and she knew it was well-deserved. Even if Mary did keep her promise, the inevitable would happen with or without her influence. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. It only made Hannah cry harder when they passed the wardrobe mirror, seeing herself so distraught. Underneath her skirt was the backside of her messy diaper just peeking; possible to see because her mess had forced the diaper to expand outside the blind spot. And just along the edge she could see the pair of blue panties struggling to stay on. It was as if they were trying to abandon her, too. It was a stinky, painful waddle back to the bathroom, where Mary cooed as she did her best to quarantine the mess. Back on the towel, Mary undid her tapes, and both equally happy and sad as it happened, the weighted diaper hit the ground with a plop almost immediately. Finally with room to breathe, the diaper’s odor filled the bathroom to uncomfortable levels. It made Hannah of course well with shame, and she could even see Mary’s nose scrunch the tiniest bit, but she was no less comforting. A few wet wipes later, Hannah had finally been cleaned of the mess she made in her pants; something she had never expected to happen in a million years. “There, see? All clean now. No more messies,” Mary continued to soothe, but the demeaning language only unnerved Hannah further. Yet at the same time, it was nice to have someone there for her… “I think it’s about time we get ready for bed,” Mary spoke simply, still devoid of any real judgement, at least any negative judgement that was. “I’ll go get your jammies, so wait here for me?” without waiting for a response, Mary stood back up, but not without grabbing the pair of panties too. “Wait!” amongst her sobs, Hannah finally spoke to Mary clearly. She turned back, open to hearing what Hannah had to say. “Can...” she felt the tears coming back already, knowing she was in no position to make demands, and equally as much for adult ones. “Can you let me keep the panties?” If anything, the only consolation she could have was at least getting to hang on to a pair. She didn’t want all this misfortune to be for naught. A pair of panties couldn’t fix anything in her life right now, but it could at least make her feel somewhat better. Mary was quiet for an uncomfortably long amount of time, like she was debating whether or not to humor a toddler. Had it not been for Hannah’s factual age though, this would have been true. Then she sighed, as if it were against her better judgement. “Mommy better not see these, got it?” Mary looked back to Hannah with a warning stare, as she handed them back to Hannah, who could only cry tears of joy. Desperately, Hannah nodded her head, as Mary temporarily left the room. Desperate for maturity, Hannah eagerly drew them up her legs, disregarding her skin still slightly being wet from the wet wipes. She drew them up with such exaggeration, the sides went well above her waist and the fabric had been stretched the slightest bit, just so she could drive the point home by feeling alone she was wearing panties again. It was like a breath of fresh air; almost enough to make her forget about the messy diaper she was standing next to. Wanting to figuratively soak in them for just a little bit longer, she let go of the waistband, waiting for it to conform to her waistline and sit propper. But instead, she felt them slip down her legs, and back to the ground. She was melancholic as she stared at them, quickly realizing just what the problem was. They had been stretched when she put them over the diaper, though just slightly. Slightly was enough to break the straw over the camel’s back, though, as from looks alone Hannah knew they wouldn’t fit her anymore… The only reason they had stayed on for as long as they had was because she was holding them in place. Her bottom lip trembled as she came to terms with this, knowing the only way they would fit her now was if she wore a diaper underneath it. Even when she got what she wanted it wasn’t right. Nothing was. Like the prophecy had foretold, it was another night of despair, and she had no idea why. Mary came back with the last diaper and a pair of pajamas, as promised. Hannah hadn’t mentioned a single word of the panties never fitting, and didn’t say anything at all. Not when she was laid down, not when the diaper was slipped under her bottom, not when it was drawn up between her legs, and not when the tapes’ adhesives came into place. Mary had apparently dug deep in Hannah’s dated wardrobe, because she had a pair of Disney Princess bottoms and shirt. The last time Hannah could remember getting themed clothing like that was when she was maybe 9 or 10. Hannah didn’t argue though, because she figured she’d already given Mary enough trouble for one night. As defeated and decrepit as Hannah was, it made her feel even worse knowing it was at the expense of someone else who had to take care of her. Hannah whimpered when the pants were drawn up, because they mostly went on right up until the halfway point on the diaper’s plastic landing strip, just giving the Elmo designs a small wall to peer over, otherwise known as the waistband of her pants. “They don’t fit...” Hannah quietly remarked to no one in particular. “I think we just need to give them a little stretch, that’s all,” Mary continued to tug at the pants, and they eventually did go over, but Mary stopped at a point where the fringes of the plastic waistband were still peeking. And because she had stretched the small pants so much, the crotch visibly conformed to the bulge of Hannah’s diaper perfectly, and though she couldn’t see it, also came close to form-fitting the elastic bands around her legs too. It was no secret to what she was wearing now. The shirt was small too, but somewhat fit better than the pants did. Her belly button was never covered, though. Mary watched Hannah brush her teeth, and once she was finished, the two were already in Hannah’s room, getting her into bed. “I’m sorry things didn’t go so perfectly tonight,” Mary sympathetically smiled, but still aware of the damage which had been done. “But again, I don’t think any less of you.” She gave Hannah’s arm one last stroke. Hannah was too emotionally drained to say anything. She had been put through the ringer tonight and was likely on the fast track to diapers, if not there already. When she partly moved on her side, the crinkle coming from her bottom reminded that she likely better start getting acquainted to. But before she left, Mary said one last thing. “And don’t worry, I’ll still talk to your mom,” and on that final positive note, Mary turned off the lights, and closed the door. When Hannah woke up, it was at some point in the middle of the night, if her window was any indication of that. She peeled back the covers, and when leaning forward felt the wet squish in her diaper. It had been dry when she went to sleep, and clearly she had been too involved in her dreams. It didn’t hit her as badly as a daytime wetting did, though. Especially not a messing one. She didn’t know why she woke up, but she did want to do one thing, even in her dazed state. Still without getting out of bed, Hannah leaned over to the side, fishing her hand underneath the bed’s skirt, pulling out what she was looking for. Snaking off the pajama pants her sleepy self had fumbled with already, she drew up the new article of clothing. Now in the presence of a diaper, they were snug-fitting again, and although depressed to know how it would work only this way, Hannah thoughtfully pressed a hand to the stretched panties. Pulling the covers back up, she went back to sleep while she silently wept. “Ms. Finn! How have you been?” “Great, Mary, and you? Is the college hunt going well?” “It’s definitely a search, alright,” Mary chuckled, as if this hadn’t been the first adult to ask. “But, I’ll find out eventually.” “I’m sure you will,” Hannah’s mom agreed. “I need to get going soon, though. Think you can handle Hannah tonight?” “Think I can handle a little diaper duty,” Mary spoke confidently, snickering at the joking challenge. Hannah’s mom made an uncertain noise, as if she weren’t so sure Mary could. “Whatever you say. Whenever she messes in her sleep, though, that’s the real challenge.” Mary solemnly agreed. “The worst of it is when they squish it all around without even realizing it… Poor things.” “Anyways, 8:00 tonight? She’s got a sleepover for tomorrow, and I want to make sure she’s nice and rested.” “Will do, Ms. Finn!” again, Mary happily saluted. “And also, since you were last here, I moved Hannah onto the boosters, as well.” “Oh?” Mary curiously asked, “What for?” “The wettings have been getting more frequent,” she paused for a second. “And larger… Don’t get me wrong, her pampers work well, but sometimes she needs a little something...extra.” “Well, I think I can handle that. Saves me from at least one extra diaper change, right?” “Well…” again, Ms. Finn didn’t seem to be totally onboard with the joke, saying, “you’d think...” “Oh! And also,” Hannah’s mom spoke again, as if she forgot an important detail. “No covering up her diaper tonight, okay? I’ve been reading a few blogs, and an important part to getting her used to her diapers is by keeping them out in the open. That, and it’s better to know when she’ll need a change,” she seemed to add it like an afterthought. “Got it, got it, got it,” repeatedly, Mary assured. “8:00 bedtime, use the diaper boosters, and no pants either.” “No skirts, too,” she partly corrected. “It’s been tough, but I think she’s finally starting to get used to it.” She sighed somewhat, staring off into space. “We won’t be going back to the potty for a bit, so I at least want her to be comfortable… Look at the time, though,” she turned her head back to the hallway. “Hannah?” she called, “Mommy’s leaving! Come and say bye-bye!” It took a few seconds, but you could hear the girl coming before you can even see her, announced by the crinkly noisemaker around her hips. From a single glance, the crotch of her unobstructed pamper diaper looked a little more pronounced than it usually would. It didn’t fold in on itself, and was unusually round. Almost like there was an extra layer inside of it… Her pace was slow as she shuffled down the hall, as if trying to minimize the sounds she made with each step, while doing everything she could to not stare at the babysitter. It was the first time she looked like this in front of her, after all. Nothing had changed. Each and every time Mary came back, things somehow got worse, and this time was no different than the others. Mary silently waved with a smile to Hannah, while she nervously came closer, veering towards her mom. “...Bye mom…” They were two simple words, yet it sounded as if it took a great deal to even mutter them out loud. “Goodnight, sweetie,” Hannah’s mom spoke in a tender tone, as if she were sending a toddler off to bed. She got on her knees and before she even hugged the girl, slipping a finger in between her leg band and thigh. Hannah meekly whimpered, but stood still like a statue, almost as if this wasn’t the first time this’d happened. “Just a little soggy,” Hannah’s mom simply commented, unlike her last departure which held much more disappointment. Turning her head to Mary, as if Hannah wasn’t even in the room, she said, “She shouldn’t need a change until she goes poo. She’s usually good about that around this time.” Hannah, still listening despite being forgotten, grew embarrassingly wide-eyed at the comment, though not daring to look anyone in the eye. Mary slowly nodded her head, passively eyeing Hannah’s reaction. Hannah then received and gave her hug, but while locked in it, she felt the firm pat to her plastic backside. It was almost enough to make her cry knowing that’d change eventually, but maybe she could negotiate something with Mary… “Have a good night, you two!” Hannah’s mom ended it with a kiss to the trembling Hannah’s forehead, then waved a goodbye to Mary, closing the door behind her. As if the door shutting were a cue, Hannah fell to her knees in a sob. “Hey...hey...” Mary rushed over to her, stroking her back. “Come on, there’s no need to be sad… Did you go already?” It only made Mary cry harder, now knowing her emotional distress had now become associated with the state of her diaper. Her legitimate concerns came second to her bowels and bladder. She’d been barred from panties, and the last of the pull-ups had been thrown out. All that was left in the house for her were diapers. Her mom somehow found out she found the box of panties, and thus she tossed the whole lot into the trash altogether. That was a rough day, by far. Taking too long to give Mary a verbal response, she pulled back the waistband of Hannah’s diaper, and not finding what she expected, set it back into place. “I thought...” Hannah sobbed, “I thought you said it’d get better?” Without any real explanation, Mary could only continue to soothe her. “Come on, where’s the big girl I know so well? Diapers or no diapers, you’re still my favorite gal to hang out with?” Hannah knew it was probably a lie, but having someone so understanding, although belittling, was a genuine comfort that had grown on her. It probably all was just one big coincidence, and a happy one at that. The loss of her bowels and bladder were something supernatural she couldn’t explain, but at least the universe had gifted her Mary. She was kind, understanding, supportive, and attentive. Sure, she may have checked Hannah’s diapers and changed them, but that was her job. Hannah couldn’t expect her to not do such. What was weird though was when Mary said, “Besides, look at it this way: no need to worry about the bathroom anymore!” “H...huh?” Mary innocently giggled, as she rubbed Hannah’s shoulder. “All I’m saying is that it’s a lot less stressful now, isn’t it? I remember last week when you were still on pull-ups. That was a bumpy ride, right?” Awkwardly Hannah shrugged, but she’d much rather fight for her pull-ups than surrender to diapers. “M...Mary?” “Hm? What is it?” “Do you think we could do it like last time?” “Like what last time?” “You know...not tell Mom about tonight?” “What wouldn’t I tell her?” Mary asked with genuine curiosity, unsure of the answer. “My...my accidents? Tell her I didn’t have any?” Still, Mary looked troubled trying to decipher what Hannah figured to be as clear as day. “Hannah, honey, what accidents?” “You know!” in a teary whine Hannah complained. “In my...diapers?” “Hannah...” Mary had furrowed her brows in a sorrowful form, as she looked as if she were going to break some dreadful news. “I did that last time because you were in pull-ups. But now?” Simply, she gave the crotch of Hannah’s diaper a squishy squeeze, causing the pee to stir in it, and forcing Hannah to blush furiously. “You’re not wearing pull-ups anymore, sweetheart.” She tried her best to give a loving smile, but it was obvious she were trying to break some bad news gently. “Accidents don’t happen in diapers...” With her bottom lip trembling, Hannah’s fresh tears came back as reality set into place. “Maybe I’d be willing to hear you out if you were in pull-ups, but do you really think that’s the best for you right now?” Streams rolling down her cheeks now, and suddenly one coming from her bladder, she shook her head no. “Let’s not worry about pull-ups anymore, okay? And look at it this way,” she tugged up the front of Hannah’s sagging diaper. “No more pull-ups means no more accidents!” still hushed, Mary sounded upbeat. “Mommy’s not mad anymore, right?” It was a morbid fact, but there was some truth to it. Still, that didn’t excuse the price she had to pay in exchange, though. She continued to sniffle as Mary stroked her hair. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think you look very cute in diapers,” she leaned a bit lower to catch Hannah’s eyes in the middle of a downward gaze. Hannah looked away, still frustrated by the circumstances. She had no reason to be angry with Mary. In the end this was all her own fault. All she was trying to do was make her feel better… “Wanna go watch some tv?” slowly lifting Hannah’s chin with her finger, she looked at the girl hopefully. Hannah nodded her head, and taking the babysitter’s hand, they walked down the hall she came from. She had finally reached it. Rock bottom. Not even Mary could save her. “So you’re having a sleepover tomorrow, huh?” Mary asked, trying to change the topic. “Looking forward to it?” “I guess...” Hannah lied, dreading tomorrow night. She wanted to go, but not as she was now. The only reason she broke her golden rule was because her mom did for her. All it took was a single conversation between her mom and a friend’s, and like that Hannah had involuntarily been signed up for a night with her friends. And of course her friend’s mom now knew about her diapers, because if Hannah’s mom wasn’t going to be there, what responsible adult would be? It would certainly be a rough night. She wasn’t even sure if she had clothes that could fully conceal her new underwear. If her mom had a complete say in it though, she never would. As they were about to round the corner, a sudden cramp hit Hannah’s abdomen, knowing full well what was to come, and unfortunately just as her mom predicted. It was impossible for Mary to not notice, because she was suddenly stopped by the anchor her hand was tethered to, and turned around to see Hannah already frozen in place. The bowel movements had become so frequent now she didn’t even need to squat anymore. Face ridden with a thousand yard stare, she grunted helplessly as her bottom trembled and the back of her diaper started to fill itself. The diaper slightly crinkled as it expanded, and Mary, still holding onto Hannah’s hand suddenly stopped tickling her palm with her thumb. It took Hannah a second to even realize she was doing it to begin with. Finishing her unfortunate mess, Hannah remained speechless as she stood there, waiting for something other than the smell to hit her nose. “I’m...I’m sorry...” in a frazzled stutter, Hannah tearily tried to explain herself. “That’s alright,” Mary pat the top of Hannah’s head. “It has to go somewhere, right?” No more accidents. It was expected of her. “You head on into the living room, okay?” Finally letting go of Hannah’s hand, she gave her a suggestive push by pressing her hand against the back of Hannah’s diaper, nudging her forward, but smearing the mess in the process. “I can just change you in front of the tv,” smiling, Mary waited for Hannah to keep walking. Quietly, nodding, Hannah walked bow-legged into the living room, messy diaper in tow. Every step of the way, Mary watched her stinky charge toddle off to the room, with a devilish smirk forming a wider and wider; a bigger, toothy grin with each step. Once the girl was long gone, Mary turned on her heel and back to the stairs. Walking into Hannah’s room, she opened the drawers to her dresser, where the pull-ups would usually be, but were now instead an array of child-printed diapers. Picking one out, Mary eyed them disapprovingly. With a sudden shift in tone, as if full of mischief, trickery, and sadism, she tutted, “Much, much too thin...” With the snap of her fingers, a purple spark erupted from the tip of her nails, and the diaper in her hand started to grow visibly thicker; nearly twice in size. She reached her other hand into the bag of diaper inserts sitting plain as day next to her dresser, deciding against making it any more ‘absorbent,’ too. Expectantly, she looked around the room, checking near the wet wipes for something she expected to find, but was severely disappointed, though mostly annoyed. “Stupid woman,” bitterly, she scoffed to no one in the room. “You can’t even buy baby powder without me telling you to?” She knew she had to be explicit when she used her magic on others, but the devil in the details was always annoying at times like these… “Sorry, Hannah, baby,” she added the last bit in a syrupy voice. “Looks like you won’t be smelling so sweet tonight...” And already with a destination in mind, she walked over to Hannah’s bedside, leaning over, kneeling near the bed skirt. Lifting it up, her eyes barely scanned the area she was just seeing for the first time, and with her target in sights, grabbed what she was looking for. “Poor thing...” with both hands, she held the garment in front of her eyes, seeing the panties had clearly been stretched out. “Still getting ideas...” sighing, the snapped her fingers once more, and the garment had vaporized into nothing. Truthfully, it was Mary’s fault. She was the one who teased the poor girl. She remembered to instruct Hannah’s mom to throw out the panties, but admittedly she forgot about the pair the girl got away with. Not that they would have ever fit her without a diaper, but the last thing she needed were reminders of what she once wore and who she once was. Grabbing the wet wipes, she walked back down the stairs. Hannah probably was thinking right about now it couldn’t get any worse, and she was right. In fact, it never got any worse. In Mary’s world, at least. In her’s, it only got better and better. And there was certainly much more fun to be had. She chewed her thumb for a moment, thinking deeply, wondering if there was some way she could chaperone Hannah’s sleepover tomorrow… She looked at her thumb nail thoughtfully, wondering just how many friends of Hannah’s she could show off her diapers to… Tabling the idea altogether, she walked back into the living room where Hannah was still standing awkwardly; not even daring to sit down. She watched the tv nervously, still shivering in embarrassment. Mary watched silently with a smile, seeing the full diaper sway to and fro. But going back to the babysitter facade, her smile shifted back to a much more innocent one, tapping Hannah on the shoulder. She must have been too quiet, because Hannah suddenly jumped, simultaneously trying to turn around, but in the process lost her footing, falling right on her diapered bottom. The tv’s audio was just low enough for the both of them to hear the squish, and Hannah’s face visibly grimace and contort; mortified by the substance seeping between her legs. Mary looked apologetic as she came close, stroking Hannah’s cheek. “Ooh, I’m sorry, Hannah,” instead of helping her back up, Mary took advantage of her position and laid her down further. “Boom boom went smoosh, huh?” At this point, Hannah was at a loss for words as Mary situated her. “You know, Hannah,” Mary casually spoke as she undid the tapes to her diaper. “I’m really happy I got to babysit you.” As she wiped her messy bottom with a wet wipe, clearly proving privacy no longer existed for Hannah when she leaned in close, asking, “Are you?” Overwhelmed, Hannah, busy looking at the leg of the coffee table, tearily nodded yes. Secretly, Mary writhed in pleasure as she watched the troubled girl’s expressions. And it would only get better. Better and better until she truly had reached rock bottom. She would be cute and adorable then, but the chase is always the best part… Thoroughly breaking down Hannah was what she lived for… She was just about to massage Hannah’s palm again, then stopped herself. Personally, Mary didn’t feel like cleaning up a wet rug… She’d do it after she was diapered. The lingering effects for when she did this were far too obvious, and Hannah’s bladder and bowels were certainly taking the brunt of it. Maybe just a few more times, and she wouldn’t even be feeling the need to poo anymore, or at the very least only realize she needs to poop by the time half of it’s already in her diaper. Or maybe to really drive the point home, she could make the potty monster real. In Hannah’s imagination, at least. She’d feel safer making a mess in her pants than on a scary bowl that could grab her at a moment’s notice… Both ideas were exciting, and equally a possibility. She’d need to flip a coin on it, or even have Hannah decide, maybe? She could just mask the decision as what they were eating for dinner. It was always fun to see them unconsciously spell their own demise. The best part was even if Hannah did have any suspicions, they were objectively absurd, and it’s not like Mary was going anywhere. She’d been “looking” for a college the past three years. In the meantime, she made ends meet with her babysitting jobs. And what kids need a babysitter more than the ones in diapers? Yes. They need ones for a long, long time.

I'm really, really sorry for the late reply! I tend to be really slow with these comments, but I promise I read them! Although it's been a bit since I last posted this, what I want to do with it hasn't left my mind. Truthfully, I'm trying to iron out the specifics before I take things further, or at least post it. But without giving away too much, the more twisted Amazons will definitely be a feature. Sorry to hear it ain't your cup of tea, but I might have written something else that you'll enjoy or possibly I will down the line? Regardless, I'm happy to hear the horror bit was done well, namely because that's what I was looking for in terms of feedback. Thanks for the comment! I have some stuff here and there, but I want to work on writing some better stuff, and revamping what already exists into something I'm a bit more happy with. I'm trying to branch out a bit with what I write, and not be too confined to a personal norm or habit. In a way, I'd consider Sheltered and this to be Polar opposites. Some of my shorts are differing in varying degrees too. That being said, I'll also have fun writing stuff with a recurring theme! I had an older story that's pretty experimental compared to what else I have on the forums, but I figure it's worth a try. It's just not at the level I want it to be yet, though. Thanks a ton for the kind words, and I can't appreciate your comment enough. Hope you continue to read!

Awesome! As much as I like doing the longer stuff, these shorter pieces are always fun to do, and I'm slowly building a stockpile of them. It helps give me a break from the ones that usually have some more fleshed out stuff. I plan to be doing more shorts in the future, so hopefully I can work on improving the quality of them as I go! Whenever something like this does well though, it makes me happy to hear! Thanks a ton for the kind words! There's definitely some stuff I want to write about that Sheltered doesn't really give me a chance for. Some of the more intentionally embarrassing/belittling stuff is a little too harsh for the mood of Sheltered, so shorts like these can be the perfect excuse for them. If you haven't already, one of the first things I posted on here was "Digital Remains," and "It's Christmas, After All." They aren't exactly like this, but there are definitely some huge parallels I'd say. In advance, they're Diaper Dimension stories. The two scenes with Sarah and in the bathroom I'm glad to hear went well. If anything, I'd like to have done better with Ms. Boona in her office, looking back on it. But, I don't think I'd ever be satisfied ? Anyways, thanks for the kind words, and sorry for the late reply! Awesome! It's great to hear I'm consistent throughout! I'm working slowly on bringing back some older stuff, so hopefully I can elevate that stuff to the level I'm at now, but even higher would of course be better. Thanks a ton for the encouragement and compliments! I have a lot of fun doing shorts like these, so alongside my longer stories, I want to keep a steady pace with these! Open to interpretation, I suppose? In all seriousness, my take on shorts is to take an excerpt approach; drop into a universe or scenario with a decent/liberal amount of background that trickles in as the earlier half of the story goes. I'm definitely guilty of focusing on the moment compared to the past, but at the same time I think it can be okay to leave some things a bit more vague. Anyways, thanks a ton for the comment!

Haha, don't worry about it! It's always awesome to hear feedback and comments. The reactions are just a bonus, I guess? Regardless, thanks a ton for the kind words! Thanks for commenting! I'll try and post the next chapter when I can! I'm not sure I completely understand, but thanks! ? Happy to hear the timing pays off! Even I feel like it can be slow at times, but me sitting on it for a while probably doesn't help much either. As for a conclusion here? Hmmm... Glad to hear it! I can't appreciate the comments enough! I hope you continue to enjoy what I put out!

At the Office “And Alex, please turn in those important documents for me by 3? It’s very important I get those under file.” Dejectedly, Alex replied, “Yes, ma’am...” “Ma’am? Is that what you’re supposed to say?” Her casual mistake sent a jolt through the girl, suddenly sitting upright as an unintentional spurt of warm liquid escaped her. “N-no! M...mommy...” “Good girl,” the stern attitude in her voice eased itself, and Alex was relieved to have earned a pat on the head, though still another small stream escaping into her underwear. “And don’t forget that I’ll also be expecting another package in your pants, too.” “Y...yes...” just as defeated Alex replied yet again, nervously eyeing the bulge in her tailored work pants, imagining as if her body had betrayed her already. How far she’d fallen. Three months prior she’d been an aspiring intern at this company, and now, in the present day, she was more than thankful to have a paid position. The downside, though? Her boss had shaped Alex’s everyday work life into more of a trip to daycare than a 9 to 5 desk job. The one thing she could be thankful for was her own desk, but that was about as far as the adult liberties and pleasures went. It was an everyday disappointment to open her bottom drawer where work binders would usually be, and instead find a stack of coloring books yet to be filled. The oh-so “important documents” which were imperative to be submitted on time were more often than not pictures of Barney and Elmo characters in dire need of color. Maybe, once in a blue moon she’d be blessed by some form of different work, that being she was in charge of a Spongebob themed one instead. Though, that just typically meant her boss couldn’t find something even more demeaning. Beyond intimidated by her coworkers, she listened to the sounds of rapid typing from their respective work stations, whereas the only noises you’d hear from hers were the scribbles and scrawls of multicolored crayons. She didn’t even know herself why she stuck to it. Maybe it was some fleeting hope that her boss would realize she wasn’t some overgrown toddler, and could actually handle work in a real estate department. But no. That day never seemed to come. Instead it was just a new stack of coloring books waiting on her desk. Her morning routine consisted of hiding them in her desk drawer, but even she knew it was a ridiculous notion to think that hiding them meant anything. Given that her desk was deprived of a computer, and with her childish, yet time-consuming workload, Alex couldn’t afford to hide the books while she worked in them. Childish as it was, her boss was oddly demanding that she be prompt with her coloring. The warning she’d just been given was her 15 minute one, like any school teacher would give towards the end of a test. She’d taken just a small break, given that she was on the last stretch of images in the final book. It made her bitter to admit it, but stick to coloring as long as she had, and you were bound to pick up a few tricks here and there… There was no real way her boss wanted them. She just wanted to see the effort. In no way did her drawings benefit the company other than to provide the CEO some form of amusement. She was too focused on her drawing to pay much more mind to her bladder; already aware of how hopeless of a strife it was, and soon let the sputtering stream from before expand into a full-on wetting. Sometimes she wished that when she did wet, it would pool beneath her legs, soak into her pants, stain her panties, and overflow onto the industrial carpet. Anything to retaliate against the fate she’d been committed to. But that fantasy was but a distant dream. Wetting panties were impossible if you didn’t wear them, and you couldn’t pee on a chair if your boss checked your underwear too often. No. Not with the diapers she was kept in. With a small slam she set the Crayola tool beside its many cousins, removing the sticky note from where she’d left off and finally closing the last book. She could only imagine what this collection of infancy might look like to the IRS in a company audit. What an anomaly she’d be… Grabbing the stack of books, she stood from her seat, hearing the slight squelch of her diaper as she leaned forward. Walking her short trip down the hall, a slight waddle with her step, she could feel the lingering eyes from her blind spots ogle her most pronounced features; those being the bulges in her waist area. “Afternoon, Alex!” a cheery voice called from the other end of the hallway. She recognized the voice instantly, and identified them as another one of her mild tormentors. “...Hi, Sarah.” The woman in a business skirt and blouse let out a small chuckle, as with her natural height aided by a pair of heels, she pat Alex innocently on the head. “Alex, didn’t we already talk about this?” she laughed like it was just yesterday. Leaning over for a more eye-to-eye view, she said, “I asked you to start calling me ‘Miss Silver,’” she spoke with a saturated tone of explanation. She sounded as if each word needed to be carried with clear and careful annunciation, otherwise the listener in question might misinterpret such simple instructions. That being Alex. Taking a small gulp of air, Alex finally mustered, “Good morning, M...Miss Silver.” “Perfect! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” she spoke with a further condescending attitude. The longer their conversations continued, Alex always felt more and more like a toddler. Language was an annoyingly powerful tool, and with the way she was treated in the office, and what she was wearing, it was pretty much impossible to deal. Just as Alex was about to turn back to her original destination, Sarah started to speak, and Alex unfortunately knew better than to turn away when her superiors were talking… And what made for even worse timing was when she could feel her stomach gurgle and churn the slightest bit, and she knew it wasn’t because she was hungry... “So what are you up to right now, silly?” Alex could feel her eyes scan her from head to toe, figuring the answer might lie somewhere in her appearance. She couldn’t help but feel that the stares lingered most about her crotch area, though… “I can definitely see that you’ve been a busy bee!” she gestured to the coloring books. Meekly, Alex could only nod her head to agree, but the last thing she wanted to do was make it seem like to another person that she actually took pride in something so belittling. While her peers were busy with property appraisals, presentations, client meetings, and bookkeeping, Alex was stuck making the tough decisions; whether she should color the birdies blue or green. “So…?” Genuinely unsure of how to respond, Alex merely raised her eyebrows in the slightest, embarrassed confusion. “Aren’t you going to tell me how your day’s been?” Alex internally whimpered as she insisted on continuing the conversation. Even if she was being treated like a toddler, she still had a schedule to keep! Nervously, she eyed her surroundings for a clock; some way to tell the time, but there wasn’t one. Hopefully it had only been just a few minutes. She could spare that much at least, right? “It’s, it’s been fine,” slightly rushing her words, she didn’t wait for Sarah to instruct her on common courtesy too, and she then said, “and how about you?” Sarah raised her brow, with an amused, yet disapproving look. “I thought we talked about this too, silly!” she stuck three fingers from her hand, beginning to list something off. “When we talk with others, it’s a good strategy to share the three f’s.” Expectantly, she emphasized the first outstretched finger, and as she slowly sounded it out, Alex knew she was supposed to join her. Together in sloppy unison, they both said “Fact.” Onto the next finger came, “Feeling.” And for the final, although not sounding as cohesive with the first too, they said, “Funny.” “See? I knew you remembered!” nodding her head approvingly, Alex internally grimaced as she knew that she did too… Like it was carved into stone, whenever Sarah had the chance she forced her to talk about her day whenever they crossed paths. If Miss Boona was like the doting mother, then Sarah could be considered her attentive school teacher, only that her “mother” was the one assigning “homework.” Without waiting for another prompt, hoping to finish as soon as possible, Emily started. “Today I finished coloring in...in all my coloring books...” it was never easy getting it out in the open. At least she shared her fact, though. Two more to go. “Then...then I had a sandwich for lunch, today,” Sarah always loved it when she went above and beyond, which is exactly why Alex tried to do more than what was asked of her. Toddler or not, an employer is always happy to see their workers doing more than they need to. If anything, it was a form of insurance. It seemed like she was doing a good job, because Miss Silver only continued to beam with satisfaction as she looked down on her. “I felt happy that it was rainy today,” nothing profound seemed to really strike the girl, “and, and I like the rain.” Sarah then jumped in with an innocent, knowing voice, as if she had Alex all figured out,“Kinda like when you make it rain in your pants, huh?” Blushing, What bothered Alex most by her words was that it wasn’t teasing. Far from it. Miss Silver at times truly felt like an authority figure speaking to someone smaller, and this was simply her means of “mercy,” as if she were sparing Alex some form of embarrassment by referring to her toilet habits indirectly. They were both of intellectual minds though, so the metaphor might as well have been nonexistent. Just as she was about to continue speaking, it was as if Sarah’s words jinxed her, and she could feel another hot, sudden stream escape into her undergarments. Slightly wincing, and doing her best to shelve whether she should scream or cry altogether, she moved onto her concluding statement. “And I learned a funny joke today. Do you wanna hear it?” Of course she would. She always did. This entire sentence was textbook, but the rudimentary explanation like many other basic teachings were ingrained in her skull at this point. Miss Silver took pride in being Alex’s “Practice Partner,” and the way she’d gush over Alex’s efforts was disgusting. Almost as much as what went on in her pants… “Of course I would!” Miss Silver resounded with a forced enthusiasm, trying to protect the feelings of a small child. Silently she waited, both ears ready for what else Alex had to say. It pissed Alex off even more that she already had a joke in mind. It was almost like she accepted this sort of routine by prepping for it, and Miss Silver’s teachings were actually starting to take an effect on her. She felt processed, and it was the worst. “Why did the football coach cross the road?” She was already dreading the punchline. It was terrible, and cheesier than the actual dairy product she had in her sandwich this afternoon. “Hmm...” Sarah paused, pressing a finger to her chin. The answer was so simple, she probably already knew, but of course she’d never trample over Alex’s efforts. She was a toddler that needed to be protected, after all. “I’m not sure!” she sounded exaggeratedly defeated. “Why did he, Alex?” “Because...” a small stress-induced groan escaped her. Partly summoned by the absurdity of the circumstances, but another uncomfortable movement in her stomach region. Her underwear was already starting to feel thick and heavy. She wanted a toilet badly. “To...to get his quarter back...” It sounded as terrible as she imagined, but as the “funny” requirement dictated, there was nothing like ending a conversation on a humorous note. Sarah stifled a giggle, then let a laugh escape her. She was probably faking it, and given that she’d assumed a persona this whole time, why wouldn’t she see it to the end? Finally in the homestretch, Alex then asked, “How about you, Miss Silver? How’s your day going?” “Oh, it’s going just fine Alex. Sorry to tie you up like that, but practice makes perfect!” Alex wanted to seethe. She’d always make her do the linguistic gymnastics, and run through the painstakingly simple conversation strategies you’d learn in kindergarten, but never did Miss Silver feel obligated to do the same. The outcome of their encounters never changed, but it still never made Alex any less angry. She could remember the last time she’d called Sarah out on the lack of a double standard, she responded with, “Well, Alex, once I think you’ve really shown you know your stuff, maybe you can have your own Linguistics License too! But until then, it’s very important we practice, practice, practice!” As if she needed speaking lessons. She felt like she could kick a disposable bin right about now. She would’ve kicked anything right now, had it not been her foot might break in response, eyeing the metal desk and brink-lined wall. “Okay Alex, time for bye-bye hugs!” Sarah announced with outstretched arms, and although reluctant, Alex received her hug, knowing too well of the consequences if she didn’t. Even if the office knew about what she wore under her pants, she was particularly fond of keeping them on for the rest of the day. No matter how much begging she’d do, Miss Silver never went back on her word. Even if it was to confiscate Alex’s clothes… Whenever she’d try and complain to Miss Boona, she’d only ever agree, and suggest that Alex likely deserved the punishment. Given Sarah’s creative license to do to Alex as she pleased, Alex was unfortunately certain to toe the line. The two wrapped their arms around each other, one much more firm and with emotion than the other. And as Alex’s head just managed over Sarah’s shoulder, she slightly whimpered as she could feel the chill of office, room temperature air enter the sudden gap between her back and waistline of her pants. Inspectingly, Sarah had taken the opportunity to pull back the band of Alex’s pants to inspect her underwear. Though she was the one doing it, Alex hugged the woman tighter when she could feel the plastic waistband being tugged at too. She hated this woman with every fiber of her being, but it was the ability to hold onto something for comfort that she focused on. “Well, looks like someone’s a bit soggy,” Sarah gingerly commented, realigning Alex’s diaper and business pants. “No messies, though! I’m sure your mommy is going to be very proud of you!” The two finally pulled apart, and Alex chose not to comment any further. With their little “lesson” finished, Sarah was the first to move on, with her final sign of affection being a little ruffle on Alex’s head of hair. Taking a deep breath, trying to regain her composure and suddenly scattered adulthood, she resumed her original destination, and only felt the panic grow when more unpleasant sensations sparked from her groin. Shakily, she knocked the door to the CEO’s office. Miss Boona. Though, she’d long since lost the privilege to call her that. Now she was just Mommy. “Come in?” her boss’s voice sounded from the other end. Reluctantly, Alex stepped inside, immediately seeing the much more distinguished woman work away at her large, mightiful desk. Topped with a computer, knicknacks, pens, paperwork, an official name tag, it was everything Alex aspired for. “Allie!” she sounded in a syrupy voice, in a tone one might use with a small child. In that moment, she sounded nothing like the head of a multi-billion dollar company. Alex didn’t feel like an employee being greeted by her boss. It was a mother pleasantly surprised by their charge dropping in. “Did you finish all your work already?” “Y...yes...” “Yes, who, sweetheart?” from the outside looking in, there was no distinct authority to her voice, and maybe there really wasn’t, but Alex felt too conditioned to not assume its existence. If she was trapped under Sarah’s thumb, compared to Miss Boona she was smothered by her entire being. What made it worse was when she demanded the title, even when Alex didn’t mistake it. “Y-yes, Mommy...” “Well alright then,” Miss Boona tapped the top of her desk, clearing a space. “Let’s see what you colored for Mommy!” Trying to express as little emotion as possible, though teetering on the edge of grimace, Alex set the coloring books down on the desk. The busy woman always seemed to have her schedule cleared for this time of day. Alex despairingly thought of it as her entertainment hour. Alex was the star of the show, and Miss Boon was the single member of the audience. It was Alex’s job to impress, otherwise punishment might ensue... Like a fine-toothed comb, Miss Boona licked her finger with almost each and every page turn, whilst Alex figited uncomfortably standing in place. If only she could go faster… No, Alex knew she could. It was simply a matter of whether she would or not. “Mi...Mommy?” “What is it, sweetie?” Miss Boon answered, her gleaming eyes never leaving the illustrated pages. “I...I really need to go...” Alex spoke as if she were physically distressed, which she was, as a pressure in her abdomen was building, and it wasn’t because of her bladder. “We’ll get to the potty after I check your work, hon,” she spoke so nonchalantly while she set aside the first coloring book, with two more to go. “P...please? Can you make an exception?” she rocked from foot to foot, as the pressure was slowly becoming unbearable. Sarah had already tied her up enough. It was pure torture at this point. Miss Boona sighed, as she finally looked at Alex. “No means no, missy. I don’t want to have to tell you again,” and then her voice suddenly switched back to its sugary self, saying, “you’re more than welcome to take a seat, though?” Alex eyed the only four possible seats in the room, and without giving it much thought, awkwardly shuffled over to the side of Miss Boona’s desk, and carefully lowered herself to the ground, involuntarily announcing touchdown by the squish of her swollen diaper. Her other options were one of the two chairs poised in front of Miss Boona’s desk, or the couches in the corner of the room. The chairs were an obvious no-no, as Mommy had explained before that they were meant for business clients only, and the more “adult” workers… Alex didn’t get to be considered one. The couches were her only alternative, but given the uncertain state of her underwear, she decided against it. Everything in Mommy’s office was dreadfully expensive, which is why Alex couldn’t even begin to fathom the possible consequences if she were to leak on anything. That, and the last thing she needed was to give Mommy an excuse to put her in thicker diapers… Alex never felt the threat of a real firing. Miss Boona ran the company, and what she says, goes. Even if Alex had been let go for some reason, or tried to quit, Miss Boona would likely see to it that she never have a chance at working any other job in the state. Maybe even the country. Her connections went wide and far, and if Alex crossed her, she’d never know what it was like to work for a reputable company again. The irony was glaring though as she looked at one of the coloring books. Not that she ever knew what it was like to begin with. “Have you been having a good day, honey?” passively, she stroked the top of Alex’s head. “Yes, Mommy...” Alex lied, overwhelmed by a sense of defeat, more focused on her bowels than anything else. “I’m very impressed with your coloring, today,” Miss Boona commented, yet her remarks for a coloring book could only do so much for an aspiring real estate agent. “Have you been enjoying your new crayons?” “Yes...” again, she meekly repeated herself. A new 120 pack had been her “Christmas Bonus” for the year, while everyone else in the office was rewarded with a small little extra something in their paychecks. Objectively from the kind of work Alex did, she knew she didn’t deserve a real bonus, but it wasn’t her fault that she was deprived of the opportunity to truly earn it. She started to feel her sphincter muscles quiver a little. “I’m very happy to have you here, you know,” Miss Boona spoke in a reminding voice as she turned the pages. “It’s nice having a little helper around here,” for a brief moment, Alex and Miss Boona stared at each other, and it pained Alex to see what even she would consider a genuine smile. If it was malice, ire, and mischief Alex could somehow deal with it, but killing with kindness always left her conflicted. By no means was this treatment okay, and she loathed it down to every tiny detail, but the positive feelings that came with it made it an unbearably annoying pill to swallow. Yet after seeing her genuine compassion, Alex for some reason felt inspired. “Mommy...do you think I could start doing some real work soon?” “What do you mean? Coloring is a very important job, you know.” Alex tried her best to not be agitated, as she still felt there was hope in all of this somewhere. “I...I know, but I want to do what everyone else does… I want to feel like I’m contributing,” the last bit was painfully honest, and her lack of meaningful contribution made her feel sore. “You do contribute,” Mommy explained in a simple, yet compassionate voice as she continued to give Alex head pats. “I’m sorry you feel that way, sweetie.” Really, did she mean it? “But working with some of our bigger projects is a big, grownup responsibility. I just don’t know if you’re ready for that...” the way she spoke so pensively confused Alex as to whether she was acting, or being gravely serious. Need she remind the woman that she was 23 years old, fresh out of college? How was it that easy to mistake her age and maturity? Still trying to remain strong, Alex continued to negotiate herself while trying to maintain the suffocating level of obedience that was expected of her. “But...I went to college...Mommy. I think I can handle it.” “Maybe...” Miss Boona continued to harbor genuine uncertainty and concern in her voice, and it made Alex panic to think just how far the woman thought Alex had fallen, or to imagine what kind of light she was truly seen in. If she had pushed any harder, Alex knew she probably wouldn’t have liked the outcome. This was as far as she could go without burning the bridge entirely. A meager sigh left her system as she did everything she could to keep her cheeks squeezed together. Soon after, Alex could hear the pages finally finish turning, and she knew the coloring books had reached their end. With a very real sense of hope, she looked up at Miss Boona, who also had a knowing smile on her face too. “Go on, you can go get it now.” Without the need for any further confirmation, Alex awkwardly scrambled herself together and over to Miss Boona’s closet. She shuffled all bow-legged, trying her best to keep inside what her body was aching to her to expel. In the back of her mind, she wanted to cry over how badly she’d now been pavloved by Miss Boona’s strict routine, but the rewards within it still rang true, and Alex also recognized it as the only opportunity in the day she had to finally prove herself. Sliding it out, Alex positioned the device facing towards Miss Boona’s desk, and was happy to see that the blinds were already closed. She eyed the gaping hole to the chair, if you could call it that, seeing it had been cleaned thoroughly since its last use… You couldn’t even tell there was a last time. It was better addressed as a mount, as Alex watched the long, plastic neck extend from its base and lead into a beaked head. What she was looking at was a themed potty for an overgrown toddler. The bowl had a slight inner curve to it, and two breaks in the outer ring for Alex to set her bottom and legs into. Right in between her legs the imaginary neck of a duck was there, and had two handles for her to grab onto in case if it was a bumpy, or particularly straining ride… The thing was beyond embarrassing to use, as she was far beyond the need of a training potty, but it was the only time of day Alex could pride herself with the use of something that even began to resemble a toilet. Just watching it already made her want to release her bowels. And scarily, she almost did. Thankfully, she just managed to catch herself. She couldn’t wait for much longer, though. She slipped her flats off, already anticipating what was to come. The entire process was beyond demeaning, but it was at least a step higher than what she was used to. Mommy, or Miss Boona, was already sifting through one of her drawers, and Alex couldn’t help but watch with an irritated lack of patience, as she moved about painfully slow. “Please hurry, Mommy!” with urgency in her voice, Alex pleaded as her feet kept rising and falling in mild hysterics. “I’m sure if you could hold it this long, you can wait a little more,” Miss Boona clearly reading the desperation from Alex’s mood and mannerisms, walked over to Alex with a small key in hand. The sun shined down on her when she could feel Miss Boona take a hold of her waistband, and insert the tiny key into the front button of her pants. Turning the key, it was probably a good thing Miss Boona was holding Alex by the pants, because she might have broken the key from sheer excitement to get her pants off. She could feel the mass in her backside being withheld by a thinning layer of resolve, and she was becoming more flustered by the second. The key then came out, and it again took Alex everything she had not to yank the pants off herself. She knew better than to handle her own work clothes… “Please…!” in a hushed whine, Alex was helpless to watch as Miss Boona made no sign of change in her speed as she undid the previously locked button, then slipped down the tiny zipper to her front. Tugging the sides apart ever so slightly, she then did the same in a downward motion, until just the white waistband that had been exposed from earlier was now fully showcased as an entire diaper. It seemed to put a whole new smile on Miss Boona’s face to see the distinct, yellowing and discoloration behind the white, plastic padding, complemented by the barney print characters parading on the front. Held together by four tapes, the swollen, squishy diaper hugged Alex all over, and she was dying to be released from it. Just a little longer…! Alex was in the homestretch, and she knew she could last just a little bit longer. And right as Miss Boona went for the first tape, the unthinkable happened. From her desk, the wired phone hooked to the receiver rang loudly with its recurring beep. No! No! No! No! Why? Why did there have to be some interruption now?! She watched Miss Boona still with a fleeting hope, figuring she could at least undo the tapes to her diaper before she answered the phone. It couldn’t be that hard, right? But to Alex’s dismay and growing fears, she watched as Miss Boona’s hand slowed to an all-near stop, and her head turned back over to the phone. Damn! Please! Not like this! Alex started to whimper uncontrollably as she started to leave her, and she walked back to the phone. “Miss-!” When Miss Boona looked at her, giving her attention, Alex was already aware of her mistake. It was a time where she couldn’t afford to be on Mommy’s bad side. She needed to be in her good favor! “Mommy,” she corrected herself with desperation, as her breaths started to pick up a little in pace and her heart started to beat faster. “Can I please take off my diaper? I really need to go, all I need to do is...” Alex’s voice trailed as in an already panicked state, she went for the tapes herself. “Allie!” Miss Boona’s voice shouted from the other end, and cut like a knife through any uncertainty Alex might have felt. It was down to the bone, and she could feel all her actions cease immediately. “I already told you that you’re not supposed to be handling your own diapers. That hasn’t changed,” she was already stern, and a far cry from the compassion Alex once witnessed practically eons ago. “You’ve already waited quite a while, so I think you can manage a little longer. Not a peep, got it?” waiting for confirmation, Alex teary-eyed nodded her head. Letting out a small sigh, Miss Boona finally silenced the ringing noise by answering the phone. “Yes, hello?” a master of many personas, Mommy sounded all-business yet again. Meanwhile as she did her business, Alex was struggling with every fiber not to do hers. She could already feel something starting to edge itself out her backside, and with muffled and stifled grunts she tried to prevent it from edging any further. Longingly, she looked at the animal-themed potty, willing to sell her soul even if that meant she could take her own diaper off. Yet she was powerless, and she dared not defy Miss Boona’s authority. It was her one chance to prove some semblance of maturity to her boss, yet she was in danger of proving the exact opposite. All she could do was give Miss Boona pleading stares as she blushed furiously, and a few tears escaped her eyes. The only kind of response she got though were shushing signs, while she continued to converse on the phone. There was no telling how long she’d take, but Alex was certain it’d be long enough just to fall outside her own limits. She could feel it coming, and she was powerless to stop it. But maybe...maybe by proving she had some idea of control, she could show Miss Boona that she was responsible? Although she couldn’t take her diaper off, Alex still mounted herself on the potty, and could feel the inner lid press against the outer parts of her diaper. The whole thing didn’t fit cleanly, given how thick it was, and she made the bowl look overstuffed. Regardless, she was still technically on the potty, despite not being mentally prepared for what she was about to do. Nervously, she grabbed the handles on the duck’s head, certain that this indeed would be a bumpy ride… Again, trying to maintain a level of respect, Alex tried to keep her grunts quiet as she need little more than blow on the boulders to get them moving. With a slight push, a mushy solid started to fill her diaper, and as soon as it started, it carried on with an overwhelming amount of momentum as the poo escaped her. Never once had she messed herself in the workplace, or at all, ever. The handles must have been steel, because everything Alex had was focused simply on channeling her frustrations and despair into hanging on to the potty for dear life. Her tears flowed freely as the remainder of poop escaped her, yet still remained unbearably close; assured by the soggy, soiled diaper around her hips. It pained her to say that she made it to the potty, even though she really didn’t. Yet still, she worked with what she had. Hopefully Mommy could recognize that? Her nose twitched disgustingly. Hopefully not the smell, though... “Thanks for calling John, I’ll talk to you later. Bye,” Miss Boona hung up the phone, staring at the teary-eyed girl during the whole ordeal. “And you were so close, too...” she sighed, with her disappointment causing a new sob from Alex. “But…! But I was gonna make it!” Alex tried to protest, visibly and audibly distraught all over. “I know you were, honey, I know...” Miss Boona cooed, but Alex had a sinking feeling that she really didn’t at all. Or chose not to. “Holding it in is hard, huh? The potty can be pretty hard to use sometimes...” She again started to stroke Alex’s hair, but this was a form of care and concern she wasn’t looking for. She wanted something that genuinely understood her pleas, and something that would acknowledge just how stacked the odds were against her. “But I made it to the toilet, though! I just wasn’t allowed to take my diaper off!” “Well, I suppose you did make it to the potty...” Miss Boona sounded almost distant, clearly not sharing the same rationale as Alex. “But I didn’t like having to remind you to keep your diaper on.” “I’m sorry, I made a mistake!” quickly trying to do damage control, Alex wanted to mitigate what might follow as much as possible. She had no idea what would follow. Something was to. Certainly. Probably… Taking hold of Alex’s hands, she gently guided them off the handles. “Come on, sweetie, off the potty. It’s clear we’re done using that now.” The obvious notion to what Alex had just done in her diaper was painful, but she conceded, sliding the potty back into the closet. Each step of the way, she’d flinch as she felt the sticky, still warm mush caking her backside shift around in her underwear. “Can I...can I please have a second chance?” Alex balled her fists, afraid of what the answer might be. Yet what hit Alex like a brick was the response,“Maybe when you’ve proven that the potty is something you can handle...” Alex silently cried, hearing those terrible, absolutely horrible words. As she sat there in her mess, Miss Boona watched her in pensive thought, as if deciding what to do with her next. “But...I’m...I’m sorry!” As her last hope, Alex did what she could for forgiveness, maybe finding some place in Mommy’s heart to earn back her trust. For some reason she could feel herself wanting to cling desperately on to the potty she had now seemingly lost. Without it being explicitly said, it scared Alex to think that she may have very well just confined herself to diapers for a terrifyingly long period of time. Miss Boona turned to shushing noises as she tried to console Alex, holding her close, avoiding the messy present sitting in the bottom of her diaper whilst she stroked her back. “I know, I know, it’s not your fault...” So she did understand! A ray of hope welled within Alex, as she hugged just as tightly back. “I think I just had expected too much of you, that’s all.” Expected too…? No, no, what was she saying? Why did she say that? Fear had once again seized Alex’s tiny mental and emotional paradise, and could feel herself falling into a place that would be overwhelmingly difficult to dig herself out of. What her mind was focused on now bothered her even more than the messy diaper she was in. “But I...” a loss for words, Alex merely trembled as she lost any reasonable sense to get through to Miss Boona. Miss Boona had taken Alex by the hand and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’re not feeling too great right now...but I need to freshen up, too. How about we kill two birds with one stone?” Entirely unsure of what she meant, Alex in tow went over to Miss Boona’s desk, where she pulled out another thick, cartoonish diaper from one of her many drawers, as well as a package of wipes and powder. Instructing Alex with the task of holding the diaper, she guided them to the last place Alex wanted to go: the exit to her office. “W-w-wait, Mommy, please!” the fear of God set into her, she tugged nervously in the opposite direction, and she couldn’t break from Miss Boon’s firm grip. “Please! At...at least let me put my pants back on?” “We need to change you, silly. What good would it do you to put your pants back on if we’re just gonna take them right back off again? Besides...I don’t know if pants are the best for you, anymore… Maybe skirts are going to work out better.” And on a whim, her wardrobe had likely just changed via a fleeting thought, and speechless, Alex was forcefully dragged into the halls between her office and the many cubicles. Immediately she locked eyes with some passerby, and just as fast shifted her gaze, although assuredly looking like a deer caught in headlights. And of course, on their very public trip down the hall, the last person Alex wanted to see had appeared. “Ms. Boona, afternoon!” “Sarah, always good to see you! But you know you can call me Claire,” the matronly woman chuckled. “I know, I know,” Sarah jokingly conceded. “It just feels weird being on a first-name basis with a head executive, that’s all,” she continued to laugh, as did Miss Boona too. “And what might you two be up to?” Suddenly like a predator about to pounce on its prey, Alex without making direct eye-contact had felt the eyes of her “teacher” fall on her. “Oh,” Miss Boona spoke, almost regarding Alex as a minor afterthought; an accessory to their adult conversation. “Alex had a little trouble making it to the potty,” she didn’t trouble herself with a lowered voice, and her casualness about the subject matter only made Alex sniffle. “We’re gonna go and get her all sorted out,” Miss Boona took it upon herself to give the plastic corner of the diaper Alex was currently holding a firm squeeze. “Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, Alex,” Sarah spoke with a little more clarity to Alex’s ears, likely suggesting the words were directing towards her. “And I’m so sorry!” once more, Sarah turned her attention back to Miss Boona. “If I had known she needed to use the potty, I would have taken her of course.” “I know you would have,” Miss Boona thanked her with a smile, “but I’ve been trying to be lenient and give her the opportunity for regularly scheduled potty breaks. Yet,” she sighed, staring at the flustered Alex, “here we are...” Finally, Alex had enough, she needed to demand to be recognized as an adult. She wasn’t some baby who couldn’t be trusted to keep their pants clean! No. She was a grown adult, and the sooner everyone in this damned office started seeing that, the better. With a fire in her eyes, defiant, Alex spoke,“I would have made it if I could have taken my...” and as quick as it came, so did it go. All the bravado she just had, to sound mature and reclaim her adulthood, and most importantly panties, seemed to dissipate in mere moments as two very stern looks were fired in her direction. They both loomed over her like towers, and Alex started to feel incredibly small. She had clearly worked herself up for nothing, because he campaign to reclaim her freedoms had just ended in seconds. “Anyways,” Miss Boona continued, finally easing the tensions off of Alex’s shoulders, “she tried, and unfortunately she just isn’t ready, that’s all.” Comfortingly, though not something Alex was looking for, she felt a rub on her shoulder. “There’s no need to worry about taking her to the potty anymore. But please keep checking her diapers like you usually do.” It was already an unspoken idea, but hearing it in the flesh is what really killed all hope for Alex. She knew there wasn’t any coming back from this one. As if on cue, her weakened bladder already squirted a new bit of pee into the already swollen crotch of the diaper. Meekly, she whimpered. “Will do, Claire,” as if a soldier saluting to her general, they said their goodbyes, and as they moved in opposite directions, Sarah inspectingly lifted the heavy backside of Alex’s diaper, and feeling it slunk back down heavily by the means of gravity wasn’t pleasant. Finally they’d reached their destination, and Miss Boona taking all the supplies now set them on the bathroom counter. And much to her surprise, Alex was pulled into a stall by Miss Boona. “Mommy, what are you…?” with a blank slate, completely unsure of what to expect, Alex pressed herself against the closed stall door while Miss Boona lifted the toilet seat, and turned back to face Alex. “I think some encouragement for the future might help, sweetie,” Miss Boona explained as without the need of a key, unbuttoned and unzipped her own pants. Alex could only watch with a burning and painful jealousy as she snaked the bottoms to her ankles, and she lowered her black stockings, revealing her sleek and smooth figure; all curves and no imperfections. The worst of all though, was what Alex saw her wearing. Purple, exquisitely cut, with expensive-looking embroidery along the edges; a stark contrast to her Barney-print diapers, Alex frustratingly watched as Miss Boona slipped her thumbs into the sides of her easily removable underwear, and slowly, tantalizingly, and temptingly lowered her panties. She then sat herself on the porcelain throne; devoid of an childish caricatures, duck heads, or potty handles. Everything in the moment represented everything Alex wanted, and what she didn’t have, and Miss Boona knew it too. Alex could only bite her lower lip in anger as she watched Miss Boona calmly relieve herself, and the sound of pee hitting the water filled the stall. It had her so enraged, she barely noticed when a small amount of pee escaped her too. “One day when you start to use the potty, this is what it’ll look like sweetheart,” Miss Boona explained in a loving voice, but deep down Alex willed herself to believe she knew how torturous she was really being. She had to, right? It got worse though, as a small, feminine grunt escaped Miss Boona when she clearly signaled that she still had business to take care of. It was an indirect slap to Alex’s face, as she watched the woman demonstrate what it meant to make a proper bowel movement without the security of a diaper. “I know it sounds scary, but you may not always have a diaper on to prevent you from accidents or failed trips to the potty,” she continued to sooth, and Alex continued to fume, though, a sense of defeat and loss was hot on her trail. “But there’s no need to worry about that right now,” again, a loving smile returned to her face. “You’ll always be my little diaper bum, silly. We’re not gonna worry about the toilet for a while; I just want my little girl to stick to her coloring books.” If anyone were listening from the outside, they might have been able to hear Alex’s cries, but they’d need a keen sense of hearing in order to get past the blaring noise from the company toilet flushing. After she’d finished her own clean up, Alex watched every piece of Miss Boona’s very adult dignity set back into place, finding herself wishing to maybe one day wear a pair of panties as wonderful as those… Once her pants were zipped and re-buttoned, Alex’s little moment of wishful thinking had come to an end, and Miss Boona had them exit the stall. “Okay,” Miss Boona clasped her hands together, sounding upbeat. “Who’s ready for a fresh diapey?”

15 - A Typical Day “Ooh!” Joyce happily wowed as she watched Emily diligently work at the page in the book. A handful of thick, dull-pointed crayons were lazily strewn about the glass table top, and she had planted herself in between the coffee table and couch. Joyce was right beside her, only sitting on the couch. On top of this the band still held true to their new trio. Emily wasn’t sitting on the floor, and in fact on her knees. Somewhat, at least. The new third member, Pip, forced the image of not only just a dessert to Emily, but also a convenient cushion…Between her legs, the denim skirt to her dress was just barely covering the unfaltering smile sewn on its pudgy body. Her bottom was getting nicely acquainted with Pip’s entire body, and if visuals were any indication, he didn’t seem to mind. “That birdy looks very cute,” Joyce commented as Emily with extreme care worked her blue crayon along the thick black lines; the kind that was forgiving for the countless aspiring artists who maybe got a little too excited with their coloring… Emily was just as engaged as was Joyce enthralled through sheer spectatorship. A little handheld creative expression was always fun, because things like this were meant to point you down a path and all that’s left is to step on the gas. Playing with stuffed toys was oddly intimidating because there were no safety rails. The art of acting like a kid could certainly not be underestimated, and learning how to play wasn’t an easy job... The canvas like any other had been pure white; absent of influence and in a state of patience waiting to be disturbed. The brushes and tools of illustration caused ripples across the page, and despite being heavily regulated by the printers preceding Emily’s own unique touch, she breathed life into the commercialized blueprint. It was especially satisfying for Joyce watching it all come together. The most distinct pieces to the page were a chirping bird, her baby chicks sitting in their nest, perched high on the tree. The branch supporting the small family followed an expanding path into a much more girthy tree trunk, and beyond the foreground decorated in leaves was a distant field marked by a stream trailing off to the horizon. The mama bird was the first and only thing Emily’d worked on, and Joyce always loved to see a big plan come together. When each and every individual aspect was treated with care and caution, once assembled it would yield an amazing product. “You’re such a careful colorer, my little artist,” Joyce spoke in a syrupy voice, stroking Emily’s hair which only heightened the pleasant atmosphere the girl was immersed in. “Well I don’t wanna mess it up...” Emily sheepishly explained, suddenly embarrassed by her own dedication. “It needs to look neat.” “It needs to look like you had fun coloring,” Joyce corrected. “Nobody here expects anything of you but to have fun and be happy! If that’s what does it for you though, then I want you to take as long as you want. More importantly, why did you make the birdy blue?” “Because it looks like a blue jay,” Emily shifted from outline work to a steady back and forth scribble, filling in the white space with an even stroke and pace. “Why?” “No reason...” Joyce’s voice trailed as she continued to look on with just as much amusement. “What are you gonna color next? Tell Mommy how my little girl’s planned it out!” Her curiosity over the tiniest details had her on the edge of her seat. In the middle of her small set of words, Emily had paused to take a sip--a suck, or two from her bottle. The drink was good, and even despite being in a bottle it hardly put a damper on the taste. “I dunno, the leaves?” She briefly scanned the page, honestly unsure herself. There was no rhyme or reason to her approach or angle, and what her next plan of action would be spur of the moment. Whatever she felt like doing was what she’d do next. The tv had been playing in the background which helped as a degree of white noise for the two, but the forefront of their attentions were either focused on the drawing or the artist. It was pretty clear who was watching what. Finally, the parental bird had been colored solid and the chicks would come later on. Emily felt like targeting something else right now, and the leaves were looking a little too lifeless for her tastes...As a mental memory, without looking over to it, Emily set her hand right where the green crayon should’ve been, and then her complacency was interrupted by stupidity when she’d only managed to press her hand against the glass. Finally looking, Emily swept her vision across the table and crayon box, realizing the green had mysteriously disappeared. She looked around her knees, legs, and feet, but there wasn’t anything to be found. Nothing other than Pip, of course. “Joyce, did you see where I put the green?” She turned back to Joyce, who looked just a neutral as she’d always been. Only...there was something that told Emily she was playing a part in this mischief… “No? What do you mean?” Without moving from her spot, she looked to her own sides on the couch, finding nothing either. “I could have sworn I left it on the table...” Passively, she explained whilst her mind wandered elsewhere, still searching for her tool. “Did you check the floor?” “Yeah, but I didn’t see anything...” “Your pocket?” Singular. The only pocket Emily had to keep watch of was the one sewn on the front of her dress. Still, she was pretty sure she would have noticed if a fat crayon had snuck its way in there...Nevertheless, although not expecting it, she didn’t pay much mind when Joyce leaned forward to open it for her. Peering inside herself, all there was at the bottom was the denim crease. Empty. “That’s strange...” Joyce spoke simply, adjusting the front of Emily’s skirt. Inflating her cheeks with mild annoyance, Emily gave a brief mumble.“Now I can’t finish the leaves...” Until the green runaway could be found, the remaining white space fell back into the forefront of her mind; deciding what she could color next until the green showed itself again. “Why can’t you finish the leaves?” Joyce asked, breaking Emily’s concentration. Mindlessly while she spoke, Emily wrapped her hands on Joyce’s knee and nuzzled her cheek into it. “Because I don’t have the green?” For some reason, this was starting to feel oddly repetitive. Joyce grabbed the box of crayons and finished emptying its contents onto the table, saying, “Leaves aren’t just green, silly.” She organized them in an orderly line for Emily to see. “Leaves are whatever color you want them to be!” Well, she wasn’t wrong...The brown, yellow, red, and orange crayons were all likely candidates as well. Who said it had to be summer or spring? Fall was perfectly viable too. Nonchalantly, Emily went for the red crayon, but was quickly shut out by a much more adult hand guarding the path. “Joyce...” Emily whined in a pretending groan. “Why can’t I use the red?” “Were you thinking about the Fall?” “Y...yes?” What was she doing wrong? And how was her mindset that predictable? It was just a drawing! What’s the point in creativity if you can’t create as you please? The whole situation was starting to feel like some grand oxymoron the further Emily drowned in her one-sided conclusions. “You said they weren’t just green!” “I know I did, and that’s true,” Joyce agreed, only mucking up Emily’s sense of clarity further. “But I think you’re missing the point, honey.” Watching Emily’s frustrations mildly boil almost had Joyce giggling the slightest, just because she knew how minor of a detail she was getting so hung up on. In that way Emily truly resembled a happy-go-lucky child. They’d never once known what it was like to encounter an adult responsibility, which is why even the smallest challenges or upsets to them was like trying to move a mountain. Her intentions were of course all good, but it was clear Emily wasn’t getting the fuller picture… Before she responded, Emily paused to take another sip from her bottle, causing Joyce’s heart to flutter at the sight. And as more time went on, a feeling in Emily’s bladder she’d been trying to ignore had come knocking more frequently with each passing moment. It was a double-edged sword, really. At the cost of delicious drinks and wonderful caffeine, it was her toilet habits that had to pay the toll. The feeling though was just starting to reach the point of downright uncomfortable. She was becoming distracted though. She’d deal with the bathroom later, or quite possibly her diaper might… “Why can’t I pick the colors I want?” She looked at Joyce questioningly. “I thought it was my drawing?” “You can use any colors you want,” Joyce lifted her hand off the red crayon, and moved over to Emily’s head with a pat. “I just want to express yourself freely. Don’t think about how things should be.” Truthfully, Emily was still lost, and she didn’t feel like she was any closer to the truth. “I still don’t get it...” Annoyed at her own incompetence, she mumbled right before taking another sip. “Yes you do, pouty pants,” Joyce lightly chided as she slipped into the space right next to Emily and onto her own knees. Even with Pips support, Emily didn’t come close to being as tall as Joyce. “You just don’t realize it yet.” “I’m not mad...” Emily sheepishly whined at the sound of the name “pouty pants.” Her cheeks burned and despite being the one who insulted her, she leaned closer into Joyce. Chuckling, Joyce continued. “Then prove it to me. I want you to stop thinking logically. Color whatever you want with whatever color you want! Make the rivers green! Make the grass orange! Who said trees had to be brown? And there’s no need for the leaves to be green. I want to know what Emmy thinks they should be. Whatever color that feels right to you is what you should be using.” Whatever feels right. Still puzzled, Emily looked down on the drawing, as well as to the crayons. On paper, what Joyce was saying finally made sense, but from how Emily understood it, she was supposed to detach herself from rational thought altogether and let her feelings dictate the canvas? What was she, some sort of mindless kid? Oh, right. Apprehensively she looked at the array of colors, as if she were about to cut the wrong wire. The more she sat there with her thoughts, the more frustrating it became. She couldn’t even play with stuffed toys, and now she couldn’t color? How pathetic could she be? “I still can’t do it, Joyce...” With a slightly upturned lower lip, Emily slumped over in a defeated stature. More than anything she hated to fail Joyce’s expectations and second to that was her own inability to be creative. “Yes you can, and you already have. You’re overthinking it!” As much as she loved Joyce, it still didn’t change that it was annoying to be told she could do something when she was adamant she can’t. What was perplexing about her encouragement though was Joyce saying she’d already done it. How? This was the first time she’d ever picked up a crayon around her! “All you need to do is simply...” Joyce leaned in close to Emily’s ear, and her following words tickled the surface of her skin with her warm, lovely breath. “Let go...” She kept stroking Emily’s back as she continued to encourage her little girl and help her find her place yet again. “Just let yourself fall into things. You’ve been doing it all this morning. When you were in your nursery, when I fed you in your high chair, put you in your nice and soft clothes that Amy made for you? Didn’t all of that make you feel so fuzzy? Or did I not give you enough kisses? Is that it?” On cue, she started to assault Emily with countless pecks on the cheek, earning a torrent of giggles as Emily without moving from her spot tried to avoid them. With each peck and whisper though, her soft voice almost resembled the beginnings of a light hypnosis. Finally the kissing stopped, and Joyce moved on. “When kids play they don’t think too hard about it, silly.” She playfully tapped her finger on Emily’s bare forehead. “And neither should you. It’s about living in the moment and having fun with it. There’s no one here to tell you how things need to be or should be. I’ll always love you whether you’re my big girl or baby, but whenever you’re my little girl, I think you’ll have a lot more fun when you start acting like it. And don’t tell me you can’t, because I’ve seen you firsthand already have giggle fits, and you’ve already done things like making a new friend, drinking from a bottle, using a pacifier?” The countless things she listed off was suddenly trying to call her back to her adult mindset, where the embarrassment and shame was waiting on the other side. “And I don’t mean that as a bad thing,” Joyce spoke almost sternly, as if to scare away the big and bad adult thoughts in her head. Only the happy, baby Emmy was allowed to come out and play. Mama Bear wouldn’t let anyone or anything affect that, even if it were Emily herself. “These are all wonderful signs that show you know how to relax; how to be my little girl...” The reminder of a sense of ownership is what resonated within Emily the most. She belonged to Joyce, and she wanted to show it too. As she looked down at herself, clad in a diaper, dress, and onesie, it was suddenly becoming harder and harder to consider adult things at the moment. She started to remember the short banter she had with Joyce in the nursery; naked except for a bra and diaper whilst she was caught in a tickle attack. There wasn’t any shame in that moment, and here she was in more clothing than in that moment. Yes. She was starting to feel it. The further she sunk, the more tangible it started to feel. That sense of playfulness she’d been continuously tapping into. It was coming somewhere from within, and she could feel it drawing closer to the surface. All she needed to do was push; push and it would make itself known! She could feel the pressure as such familiar feelings were ready to burst. Yes! She’d finally found it! Then on command, she couldn’t hold back anymore and let the feeling envelop her. It was warm, seemingly wonderful, and...and...and wet? Despite having her eyes closed, that feeling of happiness she thought she’d taken hold of was suddenly feeling extremely limited from the waist down, and not as happy as she thought. It was almost like a liquid pouring out of her...No, it definitely was. It was like a stream; hot, wet, and something she couldn’t stop. Regardless, she let out an involuntary sigh as whatever she’d just expelled from within had taken some effort. But then she started to feel it; creeping all over her skin and in her diaper...Quietly, she could only look at anything but Joyce while she emptied her bladder. Frankly, what she thought was the answer was just her bladder calling...and she answered it. As it pooled in her diaper, she slightly panicked. Without much regard for who was watching, Emily lifted her denim skirt, fearing the worst as stopping the pee was a hopeless cause. Thankfully as her seemingly unending stream did stop, she didn’t seem to have leaked...Leaning forward just a little bit, her friend Pip seemed to be alright too, though she could feel the pee that had yet to be fully absorbed slosh ever so slightly in her underwear. Her diaper though felt noticeably squishier and slightly heavier… “J...Joyce, I...” Emily started with a quiet whimper, almost on the verge of tears, but a pacifier was suddenly between her lips. If anything, maybe the taste of bananas could calm her nerves. “Shh, it’s alright.” Soothingly, Joyce guided Emily’s hands from her skirt, letting it fall back to her knees. With enough physical encouragement, Joyce eased the reluctant girl back onto Pip, the glorified bum-cushion, causing Emily to wince once she could feel the more prominent squish. “Don’t worry, you’re fine, see?” With much more sympathetic maternalism, Joyce was much slower with her next kiss, taking her time to convey as much serenity and security is possible. Emily while willingly accepting the skinship could only try and be comfortable with reddening cheeks and her posture. “No leaks, you’re all good. All dry, see? Don’t worry about what goes on down there, okay?” It was unspokenly clear that her notion referred to what was beneath the pale, yellow onesie. “Let’s go back to coloring. That’s a lot more fun and interesting, right?” Meekly, Emily could only nod her head. Thankfully Joyce somehow made it all bearable. More than anything she was afraid of the mess she’d cause...It felt even worse knowing that this was one wetting on top of another. Twice she’d wet this diaper. It wasn’t how Joyce wanted to ease her into things, but regardless of whether it was an inch or a mile, there were an awful lot of inches in a mile… “You know you’re not supposed to be embarrassed about your diapers around me?” Raising a brow, she looked at Emily with a smirk, silent from the pacifier, but her cheeks burning even harder. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be, but breaking a habit to not be embarrassed was impossibly difficult. Just because birds had wings, that didn’t mean they knew how to fly from the get-go. It wasn’t so much that Joyce saw her do it, but rather she did the deed to begin with. “Okay, come on,” Joyce sounding much more upbeat guided Emily’s hand over to the crayons. “Pick a color that makes you happy! Or maybe silly?” Desperate for a distraction, Emily quickly looked the crayons over, and in a mildly frenzied state she had only but instinct to rely on which was screaming purple. Something about it called to her, and she couldn’t place a good reason as to why. It just felt...right. “Now all you need to do,” Joyce grabbed Emily’s hand holding the crayon, and aimed it at the page in the coloring book. She pressed down for her, and not a moment later the purple had touched ground. “Is move that hand and have fun with it!” Under normal circumstances, purple had no place in this drawing. There was no reason for it. The leaves were green, the tree was brown. The birdies were blue, the sun was yellow, the river was turquoise… But...but why couldn’t the leaves be purple? Or the tree be red? The more she stared at the page, it felt as if Emily’s senses were heightened, and for real this time she was falling back into a familiar place. Between her lifelong absolutes and givens, much more illogical wedges slipped right in. The grass suddenly looked blue, and the idea of yellow birds seemed much more appealing now...With a new sense of creativity flooding in her mind like pee into her diaper, she dressed her canvas in a new blanket of inspiration. A small clacking noise was the last thing to be heard when the piece was finally finished. Beside the page were countless crayons of varying wear; clearly used for scribbles and more detailed scrawls. Unorthodox in every sense, the image looked as if a rainbow had thrown up on it. The leaves were indeed purple, and the bark was a crimson red. The baby birds must have been stolen from their true home, because the yellow chicks clearly didn’t match their bluer parent. As Emily looked at it, even though the color scheme had no rhyme or reason, an odd sense of pride filled her...As if she’d accomplished something greater than the drawing itself. Picked up the book, she pivoted on her waist and held it in front of Joyce, who was mimicking the toothy smile Emily now had, only her’s was partly hidden by the pacifier. In a muffled cheer, Emily yelled, “Done!” Suddenly with a spectator; a critic for her work, Emily started to become much more mindful of her efforts now. Letting Joyce take the book from her, she shuffled her knees slightly in anticipation for what the review would be. But as she watched Joyce observe the page, her smile never seemed to falter, and if anything grow wider. “It’s beautiful, my little Picasso!” Hearing her fawn over the drawing somehow made Emily feel irrationally well; proud of what she’d done. She had poured her heart and soul into something so trivial, yet Joyce acknowledged all of it and only sung with praise. That fuzzy feeling of warmth and being saturated in affection was what she was feeling, and she loved every second of it. Finally removing the pacifier from her mouth, Emily twiddling her thumbs addressed the most glaring issue with the drawing. “I...I was gonna make all the birds the same color, but I changed my mind and picked yellow...Now they don’t look the same...” In her mind Joyce’s happiness made the drawing perfect, but her personal blunder took it down just a level from that. “I think I like it more this way,” Joyce spoke in a calm voice, as if her speech was secondary to pensive thought. Her eyes kept spanning the masterpiece whilst she made note of every little detail. “What do you mean?” What did she mean? Wouldn’t it be better if all the birds were the same color? Or at least stick to a theme and make them all multicolored… “Just because the Mama bird is blue, why should her babies have to be?” “Well...because...” Such a simple question seemed to have stumped Emily. Wasn’t it supposed to be a given that they’d be blue? Blue birds gave birth to blue birds after all…“Because they’re her babies? Wouldn’t they look the same?” “I don’t think so,” Joyce with her motherly tone continued while Emily watched from below like an attentive student during story time. “What matters is that the baby birds are loved, and love their Mama. It doesn’t matter if they look the same or not.” It was true, but for some reason Emily still wasn’t fully convinced...She felt like there was an analogy here she wasn’t getting...Joyce could read her expression on her face, and finally unveiled the shroud to really drive the point home, or at least give a concrete example. “Well, aren’t you my baby girl?” Hearing those words put an involuntary smile on Emily’s face while she bashfully tried to look away. The glaring antithesis to her own thought process had been in front of her the whole time. How could she have been so stupid? She and Joyce both came from different walks of life, but here they were...Mother and her daughter… Joyce set the coloring book back on the table, and grabbed a corner of the page with a firm grip.”I know exactly where I want this to go...” Excitement was evident in Joyce’s voice, and suddenly Emily grew a little bit nervous. Staring at the page now, the hidden connection was suddenly made as Emily could now see the perforated edge to the page. They were meant to be torn out… “Joyce? What are you doing?” Emily tried to confirm her suspicions; her worst fears. “Well we can’t leave something as pretty as this locked up!” Joyce happily explained, and with a quick tear the page in all its splendor had been removed from the book. “Now come on, sweetie, every good drawing needs its artist’s signature!” She leaned in for a playful whisper, “That’s how they’re worth lots of money!” Emily couldn’t help but snicker hearing Joyce elevate her work to the level of the greats, and seemingly make her feel like she was at the top of the world. Grabbing a black crayon, Emily conceded and signed a uniform, textbook ‘E’ at the bottom right corner. “Now it’s perfect.” Joyce approvingly nodded her head, helping Emily up on her feet and walking to the kitchen. Awkwardly Emily waddled slightly now that the bulk between her legs had gotten a bit bigger… Joyce rummaged through a drawer and found what she needed, taking the drawing and pressing it against the fridge, pinning it in place with a magnet. There as it hung on the door, there was very mixed reactions coming from the two as they stared. “But won’t people see it?” Worriedly, Emily asked. She was okay with Joyce seeing it, but now that it was on public display for anyone in the house and she’d signed her first initial on it, who knows what could happen? She was starting to feel less confident about her coloring job. “That’s the whole point,” Joyce said while smoothening Emily’s hair. “And when you’re like this, you can take credit for it all you want. And when you’re a big girl? Well...We can just say my friend’s niece made some art for me.” Still uncertain, Emily watched the drawing nervously. “Can’t...can’t we just take it down instead? Put it somewhere more private?” “Nope!” Joyce happily declined as she steered Emily back into the living room. Not expecting a complete and total denial, Emily spoke with a bit of surprise. “Wh-What do you mean, no? But...but...” She tried to think of a way to retaliate, but Joyce was the one in charge… “You said you wanted me to take a little more control, and I am,” Soothingly Joyce rubbed Emily’s back. “No one’s going to find out that it’s yours, unless you want to of course.” They both knew the answer to that. “But like you said, I should be taking charge a little bit more. You’re gonna need to trust me on stuff like this.” She wanted to trust Joyce, really, she did, but it wasn’t so easy to put all your stock in some other person. With Joyce she already could a great deal, but it was still something to get used to. Back in the living room, Emily picked up her near-empty bottle, asking, “Could I have some more coffee, please?” Joyce took the bottle from her, but didn’t receive her with complete compliance. “Why don’t we try just juice or straight milk?” “I thought you said it was my birthday?” Emily with a fake, laughable expectant tone interjected. At the same time, didn’t Joyce say she’d be getting some leeway today? “It is, and if that’s what you want I’ll give it to you, but I just don’t want you to be too energetic right before you go down for your nap...” Joyce looked at the bottle for a moment. Nap? She still had to take one today? Suddenly her mind was flashing back to the nursery, when Joyce threatened to make her nap longer… “But do I have to?” For once it was a wholehearted, genuine complaint. “Yes,” Joyce smiled sympathetically, “You do.” “But your parents are coming tomorrow!” Emily tried to defend her position; find some way to overcome the impossible barrier known as nap time. “Shouldn’t we be spending as much time together as possible?” She was a big fan of sleep, but she was an even bigger fan of playing with Joyce. “Little girls need a little break to be nice and energetic for the second half of the day,” Joyce explained, as she walked back into the kitchen for the second time, with a complaining and protesting Emily as the caboose. She unscrewed the top of the bottle. “Birthday or not.” Suddenly coupled by hanging her drawing, and being absolute about her nap, Joyce was starting to feel an awful lot like a...like a mother. “But when they come, we can’t do this again until they leave!” Emily whined yet again, focusing her frustrations on the inability to maintain their play time. She harbored no ill will against Joyce’s parents, but she could feel herself wanting to cling desperately to what they had. Joyce merely tutted her voice, opening the fridge. “Emmy’s already starting to sound a bit cranky...” She smirked looking back to the girl. “Maybe we should put you down a little bit early?” Visibly annoyed and distraught, Emily could only watch silently as Joyce continued her rhythm. “I know you’re having fun, and I am too,” Joyce was back to her calm, non-teasing self. “But having a routine is a part of the package. You may not like it, but that’s how things are. I’m supposed to be your Mommy right now, remember?” Indeed, she was, and Emily could feel it so greatly. It felt impossible to defy what Joyce said, as it was law. She could try and struggle, but they both knew who would win in the end. It was admittedly part of why Emily was enjoying this so much… “I know my parents are coming tomorrow and you’re feeling a little rushed, but there’s still a whole lot of time left for us to be together. And hey, how about this? Maybe an earlier nap time isn’t such a bad idea after all...Why don’t I put you down for your nap early so we can get started even sooner for the afternoon?” Unsure of how to answer, Emily could only stare at Joyce helplessly. She wouldn’t be getting her way, that was certain, but she had the power to at least mitigate her frustrations. She was being a brat, and Joyce only continued to love her. Maybe taking a nap sooner was better...She’d be much too focused on its impending doom later on otherwise. “Okay...” Meekly, Emily sighed as she accepted Joyce’s loving stares. “It’s settled then. But for that reason, I think I’m going to make an executive decision and swap you over to juice...” Joyce had already put the milk away. After the bottle was filled, Emily was escorted back to the nursery where two important pieces of furniture laid. “First things first,” Joyce catching Emily by surprise hoisted her up and onto the changing table, pulling the strap over her. Powerless to stop her, as well as never intending to, Emily resigned herself to Joyce as she unsnapped the crotch of her onesie and flipped the denim skirt up for better access. Joyce silently noted the obvious discoloration, and pronounced bulk from the effective absorption. The diaper still looked like it could take a bit more, but Joyce figured it was not only enough for Emily’s efforts, but nap time should always earn a change if one was warranted. The whole time while she set out to work, Joyce fell into her pacifying hum, which was almost enough to distract Emily from the new diaper being slipped underneath her bottom, and the powder over her crotch. Once she was all taped up, Joyce redid the onesie and set her back on the ground. Emily was happy to be dry again. “Arms up like a ballerina, Emmy,” Joyce encouraged, while Emily lifted her arms straight into the air. Grabbing it by the denim straps, Joyce lifted the dress portion off of Emily and she was left in just a yellow, form-fitting onesie. Suddenly Emily felt a tad bit lighter, and was passively aware of how the swaying sensation of a skirt had left her. Unlatching it, the crib’s side had been lowered, and with Joyce’s help placed Emily inside of it. She noticed the obvious difference in size compared to her normal bad; half the width and slightly shorter in length. She wasn’t in a tight space by any means; slightly bigger than maybe a college dorm bed. As she sat there, criss-cross, she nudged the small pile of stuffed animals guarding her pillow. The onesie was soft, her feet were covered in socks, the diaper’s interior was admittedly soft, and the mattress was cushy and foamy. The bars surrounding her provided an odd sense of security, and she didn’t seem to mind them as much as she thought she would. Everything surrounding her and what she was clothed in came from someone else. It was all put into place by another person despite it all being meant for Emily. She hadn’t a hand in even the food that went in her belly. Everything was done for her, and for a brief moment she could forget what it was like to be independent. When Joyce raised the lowered crib side, Emily realized that there might be a small struggle in getting over it by herself...Not impossible, but not easy… Setting the bottle in the crib beside her, Joyce helped Emily get underneath the covers and situated. “Now you get all nice and rested up for me, got it?” Joyce spoke in a hushed voice, already trying to talk Emily into a sleepy setting. She closed the curtains to the windows for the most part, but the outer edges of daytime still bled through the cracks between the shades and outside world. She was doing her best not to be too energetic, lest that rub off on the girl who should be feeling fatigued and tired. Emily, however, had her heart beating a mile a minute despite being so comfy all over. Not only was she back in the nursery, but in her crib for the first time to boot. From head to toe she was dressed like an infant, and she’d been given a nap time bottle in case she got thirsty...Sometimes Joyce played her part too well, because Emily could find little distinction between herself and a normal baby. She’d have no trouble falling asleep with how comfy she felt, but she was simply too excited to calm herself. “Joyce?” “What is it, hon?” “I don’t feel tired...” “That’s because you’re not trying to sleep, silly.” “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just...excited, that’s all...” “Well, I think I’d beg to differ.” Joyce happily hung her head over the top of the crib, and her face shined down on Emily like the sun. Or the moon, given the room had been made darker. Seeing Joyce look so unconvinced strangely had Emily giggling for no reason whatsoever. “I’m serious, though!” Emily raised her voice a little, trying to master her own emotions as well as convince Joyce otherwise. “I think it’s because you haven’t tried going to sleep yet.” With one hand, she laid it on Emily’s shoulder and gently pushed her back onto the mattress. Emily’s head collided with the feathery and fluffy pillow. She didn’t even know if the thing was stuffed with feathers, but it felt like a cloud nonetheless. “I’ll stay by your side until you’re off to sleepy land,” Joyce reassured, holding Emily’s hand through the bars. “Joyce?” “What is it, sweetie?” “How come you picked me?” “Picked you?” Needing to elaborate further had Emily feeling a little nervous and awkward. “Y...yeah. Ever since that night on the street, I’ve always wondered why you stopped for me...” Dancing her thumb in Emily’s palm, Joyce pondered the question for a moment. “It’s...hard to explain, but there was something about you. There still is.” For a brief moment, she looked into Emily’s eyes which were laying on the pillow. “When I saw you I thought to myself, ‘This person seems special to me. I don’t know why, but I want to chase that feeling.’ And of course you looked down on your luck, but...” She chuckled, realizing she had no real answer. “Maybe that’s what they call love at first sight?” She didn’t know what kind of love she had for Emily, but it was one that involved physical affection, and she was more than satisfied by discovering it as time went on. Emily’s heart thumped heavily at the words, hearing Joyce relaxedly confess her emotions. But at the same time, the crib’s mattress, pillow, and blankets were feeling soft...In a way it was soothing enough just to hear Joyce speak, just like when she hummed. Everything about her seemed so calming, through and through. “Did you plan to talk me into this when we first met?” The feelings behind her question were of a blank slate. She had no motive and was simply curious. It was clear by this point she’d acclimated to being Joyce’s baby girl, but it made Emily wonder if this was the plan all along. “No...” Joyce answered simply, staring off into space. “Everything about you I found and still find adorable,” She brushed Emily’s cheek, who blinked her eyes heavily. “I think I started to fantasize though pretty early on, about us; enjoying some sort of relationship like this. I never thought it’d happen in a million years, though...” Her last sentence came off as thick, and almost shaky. “What I was so attracted to in the beginning was being able to let you feel so carefree; like everything being taken care of, not having to lift a finger. I don’t think I’ll ever know why I feel that way, but I still enjoy it despite not knowing why.” Memories of their earlier days resurfaced, and she could still picture the night she’d gotten Emily her first wave of clothes; the fashionista trying on every bit. Truthfully, she wanted to see her in some of the more revealing items, that being just underwear, but what it would symbolize to Joyce was a sign of acceptance, and a willingness to be unreserved around Joyce. Again, it was what the act represented, not so much the deed itself. “And...what else…?” Her words were becoming more drawn out. Clearly she wasn’t as energetic as she’d thought. Everything around her was working against her, but at the same time towards her objective benefit. Her eyes slightly wandered about the room, catching Mr.Bear’s neutral, yet happy face, the thick carpet, the unoccupied changing table, the hanging paintings on the wall...Joyce. “How can I be a better baby…?” Joyce let out a small laugh, stifled mostly to keep Emily from getting any of her energy back. There were a few things that came to mind which would make these experiences all the more genuine and amazing, but Joyce would never totally force something on Emily. Besides, things, as they were, were already perfect. Anything on top of this would have been a bonus. And if Emily didn’t discover it herself, there would be no mutual enjoyment. What she did eye though was the diaper bulge behind Emily’s onesie. There was still one last way she could use it and she had yet to try that it. Joyce wasn’t looking forward to it, either, namely because it would be certain to cause Emily a meltdown. She hated to see her girl be so distraught. “In the short term?” Joyce brought a finger to her chin like she needed to give it some thought. “Going to sleep, missy! This isn’t 20 questions. It’s called nap time for a reason!” Her joke earned a sleepy smile from Emily. “But as for everything else, I couldn’t ask for more than you just having fun with it. A happy baby makes a happy mommy. You’re perfect just the way you are, Emmy.” Finally, Emily’s eyes had closed, and Joyce could just hear the slight, rhythmic breathing through her nose. She was a slumbering angel, and Joyce did everything in her power so as not to disturb it. Nudging the bottle by Emily’s side for just in case, Joyce quietly watched Emily for a few moments longer, and the longer she stared, the blurier her vision felt. Between the moments of fog in her eyes, they briefly cleared for short moments as it seemed to fall from her eyes, and soon be replaced by a new glossy tint. Covering her mouth with a hand, she could only watch Emily in an attempted silence. Thank you, Emily! Thank you for everything you’ve done. For being with me, for accepting who I am, reciprocating the feelings I have for you...With one last smile, she sniffled as she closed the door to yet again a near, but not complete, close. Almost frustrated, she practically hated nap time as much as the one who needed to sleep through it. Blinking the final tears out of her eyes, Joyce rolled up her thick, sweater sleeves as she bent over the coffee table to tidy up the pile of crayons. Her little girl had certainly made a small mess of her toys, and Joyce was more than happy to clean them up. Apart from setting a few logic puzzles aside, she grabbed a bundle of the stuffed animals next and transitioned her audible steps across the hardwood floor into quiet muffs over the nursery carpet. While Emily innocently slumbered Joyce arranged them nicely in her toy chest. And when she bent over, Joyce suddenly felt something in her pocket. Pulling it out, it was a small stick of green she happened to forget about. She’d need to remember to put this back... “Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,” Joyce’s voice rose and fell to the rhythm, “Baker man! Bake me a cake as fast as you…?” Like a doting mother, Joyce left her charge the easiest part, yet still letting her feel like she could contribute. “Can!” Emily finished chipperly, responsible for a single, measly lyric, yet regarding it with the weight of the world. Between each small pause, the small slapping noise of skin to skin from their claps filled the kitchen. Emily’s legs swung back and forth, suspended in the air whilst her little song with Joyce devolved into a mutual giggle fit. “Mmm mmm!” Joyce jovially hummed as she kissed Emily all over, contently restrained to her high chair. “Too delicious for words! Maybe I should eat you up for lunch instead, huh?” Joyce continued to tease as she grabbed Emily’s dangling foot, sending the girl into further, mild hysterics. With a new bib already tied around her neck, all that was left was for Joyce to move the plate of sliced up fruit over to Emily. The bottle of juice from her nap still remained, halfway full, but Joyce gave it a quick refresher by leaving it in the fridge for a little bit. And each and every time she swung the door open, Joyce always had Emily’s adorable drawing to fawn over. “Somebody think they’re ready for some yummy fruit?” Taunting, Joyce set the plate on Emily’s tray. Decorated as a small platter, it was filled with grapes, apple and orange slices, as well as a few pieces of cantaloupe. Happily and hungrily, Emily nodded her head as the food was finally within reach. Without a moment’s hesitation, she nabbed one of the apple slices, freed of its outer skin, and munched on the fulfilling slice. As good as it was, there was of course the slight tinge of sourness to it; the sourness that made you crave for more. With her eyes focused on her phone, Joyce massaged Emily’s scalp as she ate, and even Joyce paused to grab a piece of orange from the plate. Her eyes then wandered to the cabinets, suddenly longing for something with a little bit more variety to it...She liked sweet, but too much of it was simply overbearing. Emily was the exception, of course. “And while you eat your yummy fruit, Mommy’s gonna make a sandwich,” Joyce explained in simple terms, like she was speaking to a genuine toddler. Suddenly at the thought of a sandwich, Emily found herself finding the idea of meat, vegetables, cheeses and other condiments much more appealing than a singular platter of fruit...Guiltily, she paused in between her bites to ask, “Could...could I have one too?” Joyce turned back to the plate of fruit, seeing a few more pieces had disappeared since she last saw it. There wasn’t any trouble making one for Emily too, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to get the whole thing down, with the fruit included...Again, money was no issue, and so be it if food didn’t get finished, but the idea of consciously wasting any wasn’t ideal… “Tell you what,” Joyce opened her proposition and continued to untie the package of bread. “You split the fruit platter with me, and I’ll split my sandwich with you? Sound good?” “But doesn’t that mean you won’t get to eat your whole sandwich?” Remorsefully, Emily asked, wishing not to impact Joyce’s own meal. “No, that means Mommy’s being forced to stop being such a picky eater,” She continued to unload various things from the fridge. “Besides, I think a good mix of everything would be better for you.” Emily knew it probably wasn’t the entire truth, and Joyce was just making it seem convenient. Despite what the truth really was though, Emily did her best to cling onto Joyce’s fabrications, knowing well by now that Joyce wouldn’t like to see her be so moody...While she waited, a piece of cantaloupe from the plate had mysteriously vanished. “Joyce?” “Uh-huh?” “What’re you parents like?” Even Emily knew it was a bit ridiculous to be asking this late in the game, but it was better late than never… Based on Joyce’s reaction, she didn’t seem to think it was as stupid as Emily thought, or at least didn’t let on for it to be. “My mom and dad are nice,” Joyce spoke plainly, not sure how to add much flavor to people she considered somewhat mundane. In reality that wasn’t the case, but Joyce knew them more as parents than anything else. “I think I already told you that my dad likes to cook? From the sound of it he’s still at it. He taught me just about everything I know.” “What about your mom?” “About her...” Joyce repeated, trying to dig for something noteworthy. Correction, something positive, and noteworthy. Their last few chats over the phone weren’t what Joyce would consider splendid…“She’s very sociable. She likes meeting new people, and I think she might be all over you,” Joyce snickered, imagining their arrival tomorrow. That being said, she’d need to throttle her mom for Emily’s sake as well… “And...how much do they know about...” “Us?” Emily quietly nodded her head. “Well...you may have been able to guess, but since that night when you were sick, my mom has known about you.” She continued to chop away at the tomatoes. “And...” she finally looked over to Emily who seemed to be listening intently. “She knows we’re in a relationship...” Underneath her onesie, Emily could feel her heart beat heavy at the sound of the reveal, suddenly feeling herself be swept into a tizzy that made it hard to keep her head straight. At the same time, she was much more attentive of the crinkle in her diaper when she squirmed. It was as if she could feel Joyce’s mother watching now. “She...she does?” Almost afraid, Emily tried to confirm. And what was coupled with their bond was the biggest question of all: how to identify it. “She does,” Joyce swept the chopped vegetables over to the side, unpackaging the meat next. “But! That’s why she’s so excited to meet you. I don’t know how much my dad knows, but I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to meeting you too.” “But Joyce...what...what are we?” It wasn’t meant to hurt Joyce or come off as negative, but it was an important question that had been swept to the side for too long. As great as what they had was, it’s not like it could be deemed conventional… “It...it can be whatever you want it to, but I want it to be clear that I do have feelings for you.” Joyce as openly as she could declared herself. Just like Emily, she wasn’t sure how sexual it was, and wasn’t opposed to moving forward, but her initial feelings were already right about where she expected them to be. “That’s no fair,” Emily pouted, blushing at the sound of her sheer honesty. “Why do I have to be the only one to decide?” “Fair enough,” Joyce conceded, speaking in a tone that no longer regarded Emily as her little girl. She’d be lying though if she said seeing her in the high chair, diaper, and onesie didn’t hurt the serious image…“I like you, Emily. Do you like me?” “W...well...yeah...” Emily fidgeted in her seat nervously, unusually overwhelmed by such raw emotion. The waters still had yet to be totally charted, and she was confident she liked guys, but...maybe Joyce was an exception? She already had such strong feelings for Joyce, but she didn’t know how to identify them. They were on similar wavelengths, only that Joyce knew much better how to express them. “Then how about we call ourselves girlfriends?” Once again, calmly, Joyce suggested the heavy-handed conclusion. Was it as easy as that, though? Emily couldn’t help but feel they would’ve had a tougher pill to swallow. Being Joyce’s girlfriend though...from here, what they had would be absolutely official. Other people, namely Joyce’s mom already knew there was something between the two, so all that was left was to give it a name. Maybe in a way their pace was rapid, but the kind of emotional bonding they’ve engaged in thus far has more than substituted for long term relationship building. It already was long term, just on a shorter scale. “R...really? I’d be your...girlfriend?” “Why not? I think it has a nice ring to it.” Emily wasn’t completely sure why, but the title had her feeling giddy all over, like when she could slip into the shower after a long day at work, or sleeping in on a winter’s day. Joyce always knew how to give harmless words such meaning and impact. “I’ve just...never had one before. That’s all.” It wasn’t a total surprise to Joyce, given their special circumstances. Jack was her former lover though, so maybe Emily’s tendencies were somewhere in between? Maybe she just had yet to realize it? “Well, now you can say that you have,” Pausing her prep work, Joyce came over to Emily, leaning in for a much more tender kiss than all the others. Emily received it like any other, but was a little shocked when instead of the cheek, chin, nose, or forehead; any of the usual spots, her lips locked with Emily’s, and an unusual sensation sparked through Emily, unlike any other kiss Joyce gave her. Not that any of the past ones were bad...but with this one, there was some, strange passion to it. Nothing like Emily had ever experienced before. A woman, no less. Emily blinked her eyes, her only form of response as Joyce finally pulled away, the smile of a genuine lover never leaving her. “But, that’s only when you’re a big girl,” Like a quick 180, Joyce’s entire demeanor and attitude had turned on a dime, and the new, romantic Joyce Emily had just witnessed was as gone as fast as the mommy in her came. “Behind closed doors let’s not forget you’re my little girl!” Joyce grinned mischievously, eating up every morsel of Emily’s frazzled reaction. Without another word, Joyce turned back to the counter, and Emily still in a muted state, bit her lower lip with more confusion than she’d ever felt before. In mere moments something had changed, and now her emotions were starting to feel conflicted in the most wonderful ways. “And about my dad,” Joyce broke the silence, including Emily’s deep thought. “He’s got a big, booming voice.” Still on the page of serious discussions, Emily couldn’t help but spurt into a laugh as she heard Joyce’s description. “Booming? What do you mean, booming?” It wasn’t much to go on, and that made it all the funnier. “You know, deep, resounding, and...loud?” With each adjective, Joyce tried to visualize a sense of magnitude with expanding hands, causing Emily to laugh even further. “He might come off as intimidating at first. He always used to around my friends when I was younger. But he’s a really nice guy when you start talking to him. He always had a soft spot for me when me and my brother were kids.” Joyce almost looked pretendedly smug, recalling all the brownie points she held over her younger brother. “I’m sure that’ll rub off onto you too!” “Do you think they’ll like me?” Her nerves were getting the best of her, and the thought of being rejected by Joyce’s parents admittedly scared her. “Don’t worry yourself over silly questions,” Joyce consoled, already confident with her answer. “It’d be harder for them not to like you.” “I’m just nervous...that’s all.” “Emily, even if there was the one in a million, billion, trillion, quadrillion chance that they didn’t? So what? That doesn’t change what we have. What we do is our business, and they have no right to intervene. We’re adults, right? Well,” She happily looked over at Emily, who was in the middle of much more suggestive circumstances. “At least one of us is.” “Hey...!” Emily whined, suddenly wanting herself out of the high chair much more now. To prove a point Joyce was pretending to deny. But deep down, Emily knew she had nothing to prove. “I know, I know...I’m sorry...” Joyce’s apologies sounded genuine, which made forgiveness the only possible route for Emily. “Do you like yours without the crust?” It was a question Emily wasn’t expecting...but seeing as the way she was being treated, it wasn’t totally unexpected… “...yes please.”

There might be some challenges along the way, but who knows? Maybe everything could go off without a hitch? Right? Probably? As for Joyce, she's pretty determined to make Emily's birthday special. Even if there's an impending doom knocking on the door, she doesn't want Emily to feel rushed. Today for them is probably guaranteed, but for what's to follow is a little more uncertain...Thanks for commenting! Bring it out to tease just to reel it back in? I think that'd be a little too cruel on my part ? Granted, with what's to follow I can't say I'm totally merciful either. I've heard from a lot of people that I've really kept a slow burn with this story. Personally, though, I think it's worth investing in all aspects of their relationship to round off an overall nice package. As for the family bit, it'd definitely be a bit dicey. Joyce has really pulled out all the stops for this and has gone all in, but at the same time, she's slipping closer to the danger zone. Maybe she's already in too deep? Thanks for the input, and I hope you continue to enjoy! Me too! Lol, but in all seriousness thanks a bunch! Real life things have been getting busier, but I still want to keep writing for this story. I don't have any plans to take a break, so I'd say it's fair to expect gradual progress on the quieter days.

14 - Every Minute Matters Although it was cold, Emily’s face was at least much cleaner now. The chill wasn’t pleasant, but given that she was confined to a chair, it’s not like she could have done much to protest. The lingers of syrup from repeated near-misses and the much more blatant one from Joyce’s phone call had been done away with; from the waist up she was as good as new. It was unfortunate the day had to come to an end so soon, though. Just when things were getting started, that unexpected surprise was announced over the phone...Joyce undid the strap between Emily’s legs, then unlocked the tray after clearing its top and finally released the girl from her confines. Before Emily could slide forward and find her footing on the crossbar however, Joyce’s hands slipped underneath her armpits, and she was hoisted slightly higher than she already was, and then lowered onto the ground. “I could have done that part myself, you know.” Almost poutily, Emily mumbled, despite appreciating the gesture. “And risk having you fall? They call them high chairs for a reason,” She happily poked Emily’s stomach, causing her to jump a little, and in turn earning a crinkle from her diaper. “We’re not taking chances on boo-boos, got it?” Giggling, Emily conceded while she patiently waited for Joyce to finish the remainder of the cleanup. “Looks like I forgot one last thing, though,” Joyce speaking to no one in particular, came back to Emily with such mild momentum, Emily thought she was going to be smothered by her lips like before. Instead, while she was getting herself so worked up Joyce leaned her head past Emily’s shoulder, and she could feel the sliding of fabric beneath her nape and a knot quickly undo itself. Leaning back, Joyce in her hands held the bib Emily forgot was hanging around her neck. With an amused smile, Joyce flashed it back to Emily, showcasing the few stains brandished on the kiddy slogan. “It’s a good thing we used one of these, huh?” Folding it, she set it by the sink. “Maybe you should use them when you’re a big girl too?” Snickering, she also slipped off the band holding Emily’s hair together. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who got it all over my face!” Defiant, Emily planted her feet firm, and balled her fists at her sides; the kind of defense equivalent to a toddler’s stubbornness. Joyce wasn’t 100% if she knew what she was doing completely, but Emily unknowingly or not was hitting all the right buttons, and she was slowly approaching an all-time high. “Maybe for some of the syrup,” Joyce explained in a motherly tone, obviously trying to downplay the biggest mishap of the morning. “But that doesn’t explain all of it,” She poked her soft cheek. “And I gave you the last strawberry, too! But I know what Mommy did wasn’t very nice...I’m very sorry for making you icky, Emmy.” Almost in a giggle fit, Emily couldn’t find it in herself to put up the front for much longer. She was too preoccupied with extracting as much sweetness from this as possible. It’d be fading fast as soon as they got to the nursery, and attended to the much more adult issues that were suddenly pressing against the glass; expectantly ogling their most private and sacred moments. Selfishly, Emily felt the smallest seed of wanting bloom within her. She felt cheated. “To make it up to you, how about we finish getting you changed?” “That’s fine, I guess...” The act was gone now, and she was back to her complacent self. As she started to walk, she became acutely mindful of the added bulk to her diaper, still warm from recent occurrences...It definitely was a weird feeling, but the cushiness was an enigma, at worst...And thankfully the absorbency had been doing its job, because 'wet' wasn’t the right way to describe how she felt below. Along the way to the nursery, Emily could feel her bunches of hair be played with in the back, methodically brushed by a set of fingers and stroked in a gentle manner. Unconsciously, she must have adjusted her pace just to let the moment last even longer. Even with that, it didn’t take much time until her bare feet were soaking up the thick carpet to her much more age-appropriate room. One sensation was exchanged for the other, because the hands left her head of hair and the dominant figure took the lead yet again. “So how about a new diaper first, then we figure out an outfit for you?” “Diaper?” Emily’s state of pensive thought was suddenly broken, as she stared at the neutral woman with a puzzled expression. “You do want to be changed, right?” Was she...was she really adapting that fast? Quietly, Joyce tried to decipher the girl’s reaction. Getting these diapers regularly was no issue, but even she was a little disappointed at the thought of wasting them over a single wetting...When weighing the facts more heavily than the feelings, they could hold a substantially larger amount of fluid...But again, Emily’s opinion mattered the most, so was she hallucinating? Hearing Emily suggest that so soon? “I thought we were done with the babying?” “What?” Joyce looked like she’d just been told firetrucks were blue; her nearing conclusions had been totally swept away. “W...why’d you think that? Do you...do you want to stop?” The thought was unexpected, and unpleasant to consider. It was completely out of left field, and their time for this was already strained. “N-no,” Emily averted her gaze the slightest bit. “I just thought that because your parents are coming...” “And? They’ll be here tomorrow.” “But don’t we, you know, need to clean up some of the stuff?” The only things Emily had seen visibly outside the nursery were the high chair, bib, and bottle, but she suspected there was much more to be discovered. Stuff that needed to be put on hold. “You let me worry about that stuff,” Casually, she lifted Emily’s pajama shirt and stripped her of it, leaving her in just a bra and diaper. Instinctively Emily almost went to cover herself, but gradually eased her arms back at her sides. “And like I said, they’re coming tomorrow. Why should that have to interfere with today? It’s your birthday, and I’ll be damned if anything’s going to put a damper on that.” “Are you sure?” Respectfully, Emily tried to leave room for doubt. Deep down though, how protective Joyce seemed to be of her had the sensitive feelings inside of her igniting to euphoric levels. “I...I don’t mind if we need to postpone...” She somewhat did, but not being disrespectful toward Joyce’s parents was important too. “Well I do,” Joyce folded the shirt, setting it on the dresser. “I worked too hard to see you this happy, and the chances of doing anything to ruin that are slim to none. Today is your day. Nobody else but you gets a say in that. That being said,” She raised a brow, as if she could see right through Emily, straight to her core, where her undying selflessness resided. “I better not catch you ignoring your own wants. Anything that’s done today is for your sake, and no one else. Got it?” Quietly, Emily replied. “Okay...” It was the one word that put Joyce into a splendid mood, and she was all sunshine and rainbows again. “Perfect. Now, let’s forget about what’s going to happen tomorrow and focus on what we’re doing today!” She ran her hands up and down Emily’s arms. “Now up on the changing table, missy. The last thing we need is you getting chilly because I didn’t put you in something nice and warm!” Her words reached Emily, yet despite turning to the table partway, she hardly moved. Strangely, Emily could feel herself voicing thoughts that’d been considered long ago, and even now. It was enough to even surprise herself. “...Don’t these hold a lot more?” A silent pause was Joyce’s first reaction. It was another one of those moments that had her completely blindsighted. The times when Emily would throw her for a loop were so far and between, which is exactly why it was always so pleasantly jarring. But by now, her flustered posture, hesitation in her words, the tinge of red on her face, the signs were all too obvious, and Joyce knew what she was seeing; a breakthrough. “Well…” Trying to level her own emotions, Joyce started. “They can, but don’t you want a new one?” She tried to play the devil’s advocate; playing to Emily’s initial tendencies so not to seem like she was biased. Deep down she was, and Emily was willingly trying to walk right into it. For the sake of fairness though, she wouldn’t influence the outcome. None of it would matter if it was forced. She needed to know that this was mutual. “Maybe...but aren’t these expensive?” Awkwardly, Emily looked at the diaper around her hips; decorated in the happy Sesame Street themes, containing her bodily fluids and allowing her the excuse to skip out on the much more traditional toilet...It was one less thing for her to focus on, and one more task for her caretaker to manage…”W...wouldn’t it be better if I used it more?” The idea was beyond strange; suggesting she pee in a diaper even more, but objectively...wasn’t that what she was supposed to do? Looking at it objectively, how spoiled could she have been? Wetting a diaper only once, then moving right onto the next? “Emmy, you know you’re not supposed to worry about the numbers,” Lightly scolding, Joyce parted a stray hair from her face. “And you should be making choices based on what you want, not me. But if we’re talking about diapers in general, then yes, they typically are used more than once...Regardless, that standard doesn’t need to apply to you. It’s about what makes you comfortable. I don’t mind either way.” It was a half-lie. She did want Emily to use a diaper more than once, because it was more practical, and it did cut down on diaper consumption...and the thought of finding her in a used diaper stimulated the mommy in her...The most of all though, she wanted Emily to be happy. “I...” The disconnect from her mouth and mind was large, and the request she was trying to process defied who she was entirely. Her idea was akin to taking a hammer to a load-bearing wall. She was obviously taking herself down by a peg, but she was okay with it? Or at least she wanted to be. The demand to please Joyce was even greater than to do so for herself. The thought was surreal; wanting more for someone else than yourself. And even if she framed it as that, she knew a growing part of her would derive a strange kind of satisfaction from it too…”I want you to change me when I need to be...” The words when put together as a coherent sentence was as foreign as a Polar bear in the Sahara. “When you need to be?” They both knew fully well what she meant by “needed,” and a single wetting certainly didn’t classify as that. “Are you sure?” Mutely, Emily nodded her head, still not fully onboard with herself. She was willingly throwing herself deeper down the rabbit hole, yet the whole reason she kept pressing on was because she knew who she’d find at the bottom… “Besides...di-didn’t you say I’m supposed to use them?” The justification was outright strange, considering how she was trying to shift the blame, or cause of the situation. Each word came out shakier than the last. She didn’t know why she was trying to deflect the credit for her own bathroom habits, but it came off as easier to let someone much more capable shoulder the responsibility. “I want you to have more control...” “More…?” “W-well, you know...” Having to be the one who pushed the envelope for these sorts of things was usually Joyce’s job, so of course it made Emily uncomfortable. Given her lack of clothes and the role she was acting, it didn’t exactly seem to make much sense for her to be the one making demands. Then again, the demand was to lose to right to make such. “You’re in charge...right?” The silence went on for a few moments, but what was first to disturb it was Joyce’s small laugh over the blatant irony. “Hey…!” Almost offended, Emily whined as Joyce couldn’t help but laugh over what she was hearing. “No...no, that’s not it. I’m not laughing at you, sweetie.” She wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist and pulled her close; the diaper being squished between the two of them. Obviously Joyce didn’t mind, though. She was far too giddy to mind, and even if she wasn’t already happy, the feeling of her baby girl’s soft, warm diaper was just another sign of a job well done. “I’m laughing at myself! Sometimes I lower my guard around you a bit too much.” “Wh-what? What do you mean?” Emily tried her best to keep cool, but the affection was almost mind-numbing with the way she was dressed, or how she wasn’t. “You’ve just done some stuff before I never expected, that’s all.” Finally, she let Emily go. “Even when it feels like I’m the one in charge, you always seem to be upsetting the pace in such...amazing ways!” Her eyes practically sparkled at the sound. “But, I won’t force you to speak on it, my little strawberry.” This time the laughs were fired in Emily’s direction, but they only added fuel to the fire which warmed Emily all over, more than her diaper, thankfully. More control? A few ideas came to Joyce’s mind, but more importantly the gesture itself had her feeling fuzzy tenfold! The day was just getting started, but the fruits it had borne already were so rich in their senses of positivity, essence, and joy. She felt like they were progressing at such a rapid speed even she might need to hold onto something… “But anyways~!” Finally clearing the fog, Joyce with her hands on her hips, looked down on Emily in a wonderfully condescending way. “I think we’ve kept you in just a diaper for long enough. No more stalling, baby girl.” “Not just a diaper...” Emily tried to correct her teasingly, but with the bra or not, it did little for how she looked. If anything, it was an awkward contrast to the attire of an infant… “Oh? Is somebody suggesting I take the bra, too?” Mimicking crab claws, Joyce rapidly pinched her hands, slowly motioning to Emily’s shoulder straps. “No! No, no, no!” Giggling, Emily backpedaled into the corner, unknowingly crashing into the giant teddy bear behind her. Slouching on her feet, she crouched and leaned back into the fluffy bear, taking his puffy arms and using them as a shield. “The bra stays on!” Laughing through her pleas the whole way, she watched as Joyce closed in on her final stand. “Well, last time I checked, someone told me to be much more watchful of my charge! Apparently I wasn’t taking enough control?” Her obvious allusions already had Emily feeling silly, and she could feel her toes curling into the carpet as Joyce knelt down in front of her; her eyes never losing the high ground. “He might protect you from the mean monsters, but...” Joyce paused for a second, realizing the furry friend had no name. “Mr.Bear,” She quickly inserted a temporary one. “Knows better than to disobey Mommy.” She pretended to look worried. “I hope my little girl isn’t being a bad influence on him?” “No, I’m good! You’re the one that’s bad!” Emily eagerly retorted, as Joyce wrapped her hands around her ankles. “Oh?” She gave an unconvinced smirk. “And how’s Mommy being a meanie?” She dragged the helpless girl away from the clutches of her furry guardian, and now had her sprawled on the floor, with one of her feet in hand, raised in the air. Emily could only giggle nervously as she’d just been locked into a deathly torture device. “You’re saying ‘no’ an awful lot today...What’s got you so cranky?” “B-because you got syrup on me…?” The facade was waning fast in the face of a genuine threat, and her trapped foot wiggled its toes with uncertainty packed into each and every little appendage. “A-and,” She tried to keep the explanation going, disillusioned that the argument would actually save her from certain demise. “And you were gonna eat my strawberry, so--!” As soon as the tickling started, Emily erupted into a shower of giggles, fighting desperately to wrench her foot from Joyce’s hold. Speaking over her laughs and shouts, Joyce continued on, her fingers scurrying across the delicate skin no less. “I think it’s because someone didn’t get enough sleep last night. We’ll have to make sure your nap is extra long today!” “N-no!” Emily managed the same word with un-failed repetition, as her grounds for negotiation had been totally lost. She would have liked to have slept longer, but now that she was up, the impending arrival of Joyce’s parents meant they had to soak up every ounce of time that was at their disposal. “Are you gonna let me get you dressed now?” Her heart melted, watching Emily squeal with glee as she further and further resigned into her role; defenseless in just a diaper and bra in her very own nursery. It was yet again another perfect concoction which led to an indescribable pleasure! It was like living a dream that had been so distant for so long, and Joyce never wanted to wake up. “Yes! Yes!” Emily would have kept shouting it a thousand times over, but her lungs had grown too restless from all the laughing that was being forced out of her. With her magic fingers, through her foot alone could Joyce command and expend troves of energy from Emily’s entire being. Trying her hardest to wipe her involuntary tears from her eyes, she’d keep pounding her fists into the carpet; doing anything she could to express her body’s frustration from the tingling. As much as she was suffering, being at Joyce’s mercy was intoxicating. And finally, the tickle monster yet again returned from whence it came. She could only hope she was starting to build a resistance… “Okay, no more games!” Joyce spoke with mild authority, partly directing the words to herself. “Off your tush, missy!” Like a lazy soldier reporting to their commander, Emily found her shaky footing; still working the tickles out of her. “Now comes the most important question,” Guiding her over to the closed door, Joyce finally opened it, the one that had Emily theorizing since this whole adventure began. Half-expected, it was a small walk-in closet, lined with an array of shelves and two bars opposite of each other for hangers. Emily could already recognize the few things she’d worn before, and maybe a few new tidbits, but it was overall pretty empty. Joyce was painfully aware of this too, but she of course had plans to change that over time…“Are we feeling like today’s a lazy day, or do you want to have a play day?” Her perplexing riddle was mostly lost on Emily, as she couldn’t even begin to imagine what either answer would lead to; how it would affect her appearance. Joyce guarded the entrance to the closet as well, so it wasn’t like she could have gone snooping on her own… “Uhm...” The more she thought, a small warning in the back of her head signed that if she didn’t choose soon, Joyce might for her. Not that she minded, of course. In a way it was preferable, but for once Emily knew how she wanted the day to go. “Play.” She spoke adamantly, earning a warm smile from Joyce. “Okay, then close your eyes for me. Nice and tight!” Shrouding Emily’s eyes with her hand, Joyce held it there for a second until peeking through her fingers to see they were in fact sealed shut. “No peeking, got it? Otherwise I might need to give your tummy a few tickles next...” Anything but that. Emily could feel the muscles in her eyes tighten. This mission had suddenly become do or die, and failure was not an option. Joyce choked down a giggle, watching her visibly stiffen at the sound of the playful warning. Satisfied, she turned back into the closet to collect the piece. “You’re still not allowed to look!” Joyce warned, as Emily could suddenly feel herself being handled by Joyce’s soft, loving hands. “I’m not gonna, but when can I look?” A sudden wave of surprise overcame her when she could feel Joyce work a small bunch of fabric over her head. Despite her most valuable sense being locked away, she could’ve sworn she felt the slightest sway around her hips. Almost like a skirt…? Either way, the shirt she’d been put in was a soft, short-sleeve just from the feel, but what struck her as a heart-racing afterthought was the snug feeling she was starting to feel around her crotch. With the sound of a few snaps, the diaper she was wearing suddenly felt pressed a slight bit tighter to her now; consciously aware of it being encased by something. But her thighs still felt bare? Clearly she wasn’t wearing pants...so then what? Once she lowered her arms, her hands accidentally came into contact with the exterior, which confirmed the skirt theory. It felt like...denim? She became aware of the extra shoulder straps over her shoulders too when Joyce lifted them for a quick adjustment, then set them back in place. “And just to keep your feet nice and warm...” Emily still blind, was much more accepting of Joyce’s hold once she obviously slipped a pair of socks on her feet. Then, for a few uninterrupted moments, nothing happened. The only thing Emily could feel, or think she felt, was her sixth sense picking up on Joyce’s quiet presence. “Come on, can I open my eyes now?” Slowly becoming impatient, Emily’s irrational side considered tapping its foot. “M..mhmm..!” Joyce’s response was odd. As if she were holding something back...Emily didn’t know how to feel about that. Suddenly nervous, she cracked open an eye, starting with her gaze at her feet. Certainly she was wearing a skirt...but it was connected to what was on her torso, and very short. It was a denim dress, and the large pocket sewn on its torso almost had Emily sweating. Oddly, she counted each and every thick stitch she could see around its lining, and where the dress ended up top she could see the pale yellow fabric, encased by the denim shoulder straps, connected to the front of the dress by fat, white buttons. Her cheeks slowly heated as she came to terms with what she was wearing. Before she even looked at Joyce’s reaction, she looked into the full-length mirror. She blinked. For a moment, Emily almost side-stepped, because the reflection that was occupying the mirror clearly wasn’t her. A toddler was blocking it, and as cute as she was, Emily was a little bit more focused on seeing herself, as well as confused by the sudden stranger in the room...But that’s when she froze, letting a small sound of realization escape her, staring into the reflected image. Her own, reflected image...What she saw was something she couldn’t recognize; someone that she couldn’t say with confidence was Emily Sen, of 26--no, 27 years of age. Yet still, the mistake she’d made in her age was almost preferable, given the sight she was suddenly treated to reminded her of someone that was 2 rather than 27...From a mild blush, Emily watched her face rapidly shift in pigment from a pale pink to a mild red, just from seeing herself in the...the strangely alluring, and otherworldly adorable outfit…! But, but who was she looking at right now? From a sliver of the mirror’s view, she could see a taller figure beside who she still had a hard time believe was herself. She looked so familiar, though. She was a lot like Emily; black hair, green eyes, small stature, same outfit, well-acquainted with Joyce...The biggest differences with this person though, was the denim dress they were wearing, and if Emily didn’t know any better, the slight spread in her legs suggested there might be a diaper underneath...Internally, she giggled just from watching the bashful girl trapped in the mirror. Yet, in unmistakable unison the person in the mirror giggled back? The fascination and mild confusion dissipated as quickly as it came, because her memory started to jog, and the person she was looking at became perfectly clear. It was Emily. Emmy. Emmy Summers. She could have likely stood there for a thousand years, trying to come to terms with the transformation she was doing her best to comprehend. How she could have become something she couldn’t even recognize was baffling. She didn’t feel like Emily anymore...she felt like...Emmy. Joyce’s baby girl, and there wasn’t a shred of physical evidence left to prove otherwise. Her body didn’t feel so synced with her thoughts anymore, because as embarrassed as she looked, her mind was busy making complacent observations. As if it were a delicate artifact, she lightly traced her finger along the denim hem, trying to make the distinction between fantasy and fiction. “Do you like it?” After enough emotional overspills, Joyce finally found it in her to keep herself in check. On the surface she was the calm, collected mommy that she needed to be, but underneath was a raging typhoon of ecstasy and pleasure; overwhelmed with the limitless marvel from what Emily looked like right now. What almost had her squeal was when Emily leaned the slightest bit forward, likely inspecting the outfit further, and unbeknownst to the girl a small patch of yellow onesie on her backside peeked from the covers of the skirt. “It’s...cute...” Gradually coming to her senses, Emily spoke as objectively as she could. What probably allowed her to be so honest was the silly truth that she hadn’t even recognized herself for a few moments, and admittedly felt like she was speaking about someone else altogether. She was a totally different person. “H...how did you get this?” Turning from the mirror to Joyce, her skirt swayed the slightest bit, causing the tiniest breeze to brush past her bare thighs. Should she tell her? Joyce in the span of a few moments caught herself in an endless debate; reasoning whether or not it would be the best time to tell her...There was no way she could say it was Amy without Emily being able to put two and two together and realize she knew about the diapers...and likely what they were doing right now. Honestly, it was a mystery why she hadn’t already guessed Amy. Maybe it was something testing Joyce’s truthfulness? Though, who was to say Emily wouldn’t be okay with it? Maybe after seeing just how hard Amy worked to make such exquisite clothes, realize the countless hours of well-intentioned effort each thread was infused with, maybe she could understand? More than anything, Joyce didn’t like the idea of keeping secrets. The sooner these sorts of things were rooted out, the better. Trying to restrain herself from hugging Emily all over, Joyce carefully spun Emily back around to the mirror, holding her wrists, hanging the girl’s arms in front of her skirt. She set her head on top of Emily’s while they both looked into the mirror. “Remember when we went to go see my seamstress? Our seamstress? Amy?” It didn’t take any more than that, as Emily suddenly tilted her head upwards, trying to face Joyce with a panicked expression. “Wh-what?! You told-!” A finger was pressed to her lips. “You have every right to be concerned, Emmy, but do me a favor a look back into the mirror.” Reluctantly, but trying her best to be convinced, Emily turned her head back to their reflection, obviously looking much more troubled. “I can’t even begin to tell you how excited Amy was to make these clothes for you!” Joyce explained in an upbeat tone; encouraging and positive; chasing the negative emotions away. “She wanted more than anything to make you look as adorable as possible,” Joyce deposited both of her hands in Emily’s paw print pocket, minus the thumbs. “She worked very hard to make these outfits for you, and you’ve only seen one!” Emily still shuffled uncomfortably; imagining just how exposed she was to the outside world. They had one golden rule, and it’d been shattered. Joyce had betrayed her! She’d been crossed, and she wanted to be mad, angry, and sad...so why didn’t she? She didn’t feel happy or comfortable (emotionally, at least), but that didn’t extend into any resentment for Joyce. Her mind could only think of the countless, terrible futures where Amy might use this dark secret against both her and Joyce. They were now pawns in any masterful scheme she might wish to exact in the future...Even with that in mind though...being forced to look at her own reflection, the denim dress and yellow onesie she figured it to be all looked splendid...This clearly wasn’t run-of-the-mill, and the effort in it was genuine; evidence that would suggest the opposite of ill-intentions. If there was care, how could it be malicious? “And nothing’s changed,” Joyce explained while she briefly toyed with the onesie’s collar next. “Our secret is still safe, and no one else other than you, me, and Amy to a very limited degree I’ll add, knows. The only thing she knows is that I might like to dress you up a little bit.” “But what about the-!” Emily couldn’t help herself but interrupt, dying with the questions which dictated life or death. “Yes, she knows about those too,” Joyce asserted her verbal dominance yet again. “But so what? Joyce nonchalantly continued. What else is my little Emmy supposed to be wearing? If she didn’t know about the diapers, how else would she be able to make you such cute, fitting clothes?” “You promised, though...” Emily quietly pouted. The sense of betrayal was beyond evident, and to Joyce the disappointment in her voice was like a spear run through her own heart. It’s not like she deserved any less, though. “I did,” Joyce remorsefully spoke. “But, didn’t you say that you wanted to trust me more?” With almost every fiber of her being, Joyce hated using Emily’s own words against her like this, but the only thing that kept her pressing forward was the mutual net gain that’d be on the other side. She’d have to keep reminding herself that this was for them, not just her. “There’s no way Amy will ever tell anyone anything,” She made a point to put heavy emphasis on the two most important words. “Not only does she have non-disclosure agreements with all her clients, but I can tell you something like this is a tiny blip on her map. From the sound of it, she’s handled much more off the wall stuff. Your wardrobe is something she really likes making!” Joyce’s words were reassuring, but Emily knew she was really tripping over herself when it was clear her right to total protest was lost, considering she did surrender more control to Joyce. But didn’t it not count, seeing as this had to have been orchestrated before? Only recently did she start giving Joyce the verbal ‘okay’ on these things...The technicalities were too annoying to consider. Despite the turmoil, her instincts were still unashamedly telling her to be strut along by Joyce. But was there any sense of recourse to this? Did there need to be? All Joyce was telling her about were the positives, and the only negative Emily could find in the room was herself, which she had the power to change. The longer she looked into the mirror, Joyce hanging over her, while she was in a onesie, denim dress, all covering her wet diaper, a small, sudden smirk escaped her. “Oh? Did something about that make you happy?” Joyce nudged, taking advantage of whatever giddy feelings she could spur within Emily. “I know what I did made you feel uncomfortable, but I want you to know nothing bad will come of it. Only good things,” Joyce squeezed a little tighter. “I’m willing to hear anything you want to tell me, though.” “Going to Amy like that without my permission...it wasn’t nice.” Trying to sound glum, Emily spoke truthfully. The thick stitches in her front pocket almost looked like a toothy smirk to her, adjoined by the fat, white shoulder strap buttons like eyes. “No...it wasn’t.” Joyce somberly agreed. “I knew our secret would still be safe, but that doesn’t mean you’d feel the same; regardless of the outcome.” “...Right...” Emily nodded, thinking of how else she could do the proper thing and scold Joyce. She wiggled her hips slightly, watching the skirt move to and fro...She did her utmost to silence an oncoming giggle. She wanted more than anything to be mad, but how was it her place to chastise her own caregiver? “I want you to tell me when you do stuff as risky as that...I want to know what to expect.” “Tell?” Not ask? “You mean you want me to ask before I do stuff like this, right?” Joyce fished for clarification, and Emily could only nervously watch her toes wiggle in their polka dot socks, squirming in the carpet. “N...no. I want you to tell me,” All jitters, Emily confirmed her earlier words. “I...I can trust you, right? You said so?” Through the mirror, she stared into Joyce’s eyes with sincere purity, innocence and complete dependence. She was a frail and delicate little girl opening herself up to the one person who would do anything and everything to protect her. For once it hurt Joyce now to receive kindness in response to her own wrongdoings. She didn’t deserve it, which is why she cherished it all the more. “Of course!” Forcing herself out of such a melancholic state, Joyce by Emily’s waist hoisted her into the air for a few moments before setting her back down. From the angle she lifted her, Emily too could catch the white snaps enclosing the round and padded crotch to her onesie from the mirror. The way the entire outfit hugged her and made her feel was a strange and unapologetic wave of childishness that was already taking root. Emily wasn’t sure how to feel. But Emmy? Emmy was right at home. “But you still want me to take the lead, right?” Admittedly, the dynamic was a bit unorthodox. Emily wanted to surrender her freedoms, but she wanted the right to be aware of what was happening? She relinquished her power to do anything about it (within reason), yet she still wanted to be an attentive spectator… “Yeah, I guess.” From the sound of it, even Emily was aware of her selfish requests; having her cake and eating it too. “If...if that’s okay?” Snickering, Joyce embraced Emily with a small Eskimo kiss, and finally took her away from the mirror. Her laughter was enough of an answer, and Emily didn’t feel the need to press any further. “And there’s one last thing to add...” Joyce rambled on as she turned her back to Emily and moved to the dresser. She opened the top drawer, clearly looking for something among a sea of many things, evident by the sliding of foreign objects. Emily could only watch with curiosity as Joyce’s audible searching came to an end and she came back with two small accessories in hand. Emily stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to think at all. She really hadn’t been thinking of it...but it’s not like this was unexpected. “Is that a...” “Pacifier? Yes, it is!” Joyce resounded in singsong praise, displaying the silicon teat attached to a plastic shield and ring, all proportionate for someone Emily’s size. As Joyce held it in front of her, it was easy to read the girl’s hesitation, but like always she did her utmost to ease her into it. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, you know,” Joyce reminded as she dangled the childish item from her finger. “But I think you might be pleasantly surprised if you do~!” The aftertaste of suspense lingered in her words, and Emily the willing sucker she was felt herself being tempted by the bait. As if she weren’t happy about it, looking at anything but the amused Joyce, Emily quietly opened her mouth the slightest bit, her arms crossed like she was in total protest, yet how bad of a liar she could be in times like this… Joyce didn’t give her a chance for second thoughts, and no sooner than it took for Emily to open her mouth, it was filled by the firm, yet squishy material just as fast. Letting the foreign invader sit still for a few moments, Emily ceased all activity as if she were awaiting the big reveal; the surprise Joyce had been dangling over her head. But it was just a normal pacifier? She squeezed her teeth on it curiously. Just as she was about to call her out on her lies though, Emily’s tongue brushed across the nipple, and along the way picked up a sweet, fruity taste...Banana? Her eyes focusing on the pacifier in her mouth, Emily inspected the sensation further; dancing her tongue all around the flavored bulb and receiving equally as pleasant banana-y responses. And the more she worked at it, the more she felt as if it were teetering on the line between not enough, and just satisfying. She loved the taste of banana, and wanted to feel that wave of flavor in full. Suddenly licking the pacifier wasn’t enough, and in a desperate attempt to try and stir a greater yield, the pacifier rhythmically gyrated the slightest bit, shifting to the front and back of her mouth; sucking on it. “I take it that one’s a winner?” Happy to see it working as intended, Emily finally looked from the pacifier and back to Joyce. Blushing heavily over her distractions, she quickly yanked the item from her mouth (Demanded by circumstance, despite her tastebuds crying in protest), and without any real sensible place to put it, she shoved it in the torso pocket of her denim dress. “Why did you stop?” Joyce looked the slightest bit disappointed, mourning for the sweet scene she had just been treated to. “Didn’t it taste good? If I remember correctly, someone can’t get enough of bananas, my little kitty-monkey.” “I don’t know...” Emily aimlessly spoke, knowing exactly why she did stop, as well as why she should know better than to feel so ashamed... “No embarrassment,” Joyce magically pulled the words from Emily’s mind, as she reached into Emily’s pocket and pulled the pacifier back out. “Remember?” Curiously, she gave it a suck herself, taking note of the pleasant taste herself. Needing to repeat herself less and less each time though, the first two words were enough to let the pacifier back into Emily’s mouth. She didn’t seem to suck it as eagerly this time, though. “Enjoy it all you can for now,” Joyce passively warned. “Because if we don’t throttle that thing, you might become too attached.” Laughing at the thought, while Emily only shivered from imagining such a terrible fate. It didn’t seem to stop her sucking, however. “Either that, or it’ll completely ruin your craving for bananas.” Ushering her along, the two went back into the hallway. “You take the lead, missy. Off to the living room we go!” Joyce cheered as their feet stepped over the polished, hardwood floors. Silently, she bit her lower lip, watching Emily’s skirt swish from side to side, and a small crinkle from underneath too. Everything right now was beyond perfect, and it would only get better! Onto the next room, the floor beside the couch had been sanctioned off by a large, decorated mat, sending waves of old, distant memories back to Emily. Almost like a living memory, images of them, sitting on that old blanket, messing with logic puzzles echoed through her mind. Motifs of suns and moons decorated the purple, plush mat, and checkered across it were the many toys and trinkets that would serve as the morning’s entertainment. She recognized a few things from last time, but what had her interested more than she’d like to admit was the return of those logic puzzles, the ones that had her sitting in Joyce’s lap…! More seemed to have joined the scene, and they brought along with them their stuffed animal friends, and didn’t skip out on the thick, picture books. A box of fat crayons freshly unwrapped from their packaging sat on a coloring book as well. Seeing the rainbow gradient illustrated on the front almost had her itching to give it a try… For a brief moment, Emily removed the pacifier from her mouth. “You really didn’t hold back on the stuffed animals, did you?” She giggled, aimlessly nudging a furry dog with her foot onto its side. Between what was here and in the nursery, she couldn’t put it past herself as being the commander of an army of fluffy cuteness. She couldn’t help but snicker thinking about it. “It’s very important my little girl knows that she’s loved very much!” Taking one of the stuffed toys, Joyce like a puppet master animated its movements over Emily’s shoulders. “You have a loving mommy,” She paused just to kiss her cheek. “And on top of that, you have lots of stuffies to make you feel comfy!” The countless inanimate faces all pointed in random directions; mute and lifeless, yet reverberating a sense of warmth, as each and every toy was imbued with a sense of serenity which was tethered back to Joyce. Everything here was an extension of Joyce’s love, and Emily felt herself wanting to be smothered in it. More than she already was. It was all through a childish medium, infantile at that, but beneath the surface layer was the plentiful emotion; honey to a bee; irresistible, intoxicating, loving, and heartwarming sweetness. “I gotta say though, I was almost expecting you to somehow get a playpen...” What an imagination it took to picture something like that. With fences almost as tall as herself, by no means would it have been practical, and it probably would have been jarring considering the size it’d be...It was strange to think about, but how Emily’s undeniable size was an important factor welled within her a strange feeling of sadness. She was small, especially compared to Joyce, but she wasn’t a toddler; far from it. Her words were meant as a fun joke, but suddenly it felt like she was hurting herself more than anything else. “Maybe in the future...” Joyce spoke passively, giving it an actual thought. Turned away, Emily could only sit there in disbelief for it to be actually considered. She couldn’t be serious, could she? Get a playpen for a grown woman? Further and further the line which divided reality and fantasy was becoming an even greater, blurry mess. From Joyce’s perspective though, it was a perfectly viable avenue. It certainly wasn’t usual, but it wasn’t impossible. Well, maybe not for an apartment in the city, at least...Regardless, it’d need to be something she logged away for the books. “That’s something for later, though,” Joyce continued with polite dismissiveness. “Until then, focus on what we have right now, my spoiled little girl!” Joyce sarcastically chided. “I wasn’t asking for one!” Emily countered, slightly grimacing at the idea of becoming rotten from so much glimmer and glam. “It was a joke!” “I know, I know,” Joyce consoled, giving her hand a squeeze. “If my Emmy’s ever spoiled, it’ll be mommy’s fault, and even at that I know you’ll be my good little girl!” She beamed with genuine pride, overflowing with joy at the thought; being able to claim someone else as your own, and have the other party be just as excited. Flustered, Emily started to mumble in embarrassment, in a low, troubled whisper, “Of...of course I will...” Suddenly a convenient excuse to plug her murmurs and nervousness, the banana-flavored pacifier found its way back in between her lips, and the fictitious verbal strain which weighed over her shoulders seemed to have been erased completely. Gently setting her hands on Emily’s shoulders, with a small bit of force she physically commanded Emily to take a seat on the playmat, and Joyce still remained standing. Unfortunately the diaper between her legs didn’t make sitting on her knees the most comfortable. For modesty’s sake, she wished she could have assumed such a position, but it was pretty clear that wasn’t in the cards. Reluctantly, she sat on her bottom (Certainly feeling awkward after the slight squish of the diaper), and with a white and crinkly mass between her legs, they spread the slightest bit outwards. The hem of her dress while standing was enough to cover the onesie’s crotch, but now that her own thighs prevented it from sinking any lower, a small window of visibility was now there. “Okay missy, I have a very important job for you now,” Joyce’s face started to look serious, which started to restrain Emily’s flowery expressions. It took everything Joyce could not to break character however, when Emily gave a small nod and the ring of her pacifier dangled just slightly. “...I need you to find something extra fun to play with, okay?” She gestured her hand to the countless items scattered across the playmat. “I’m gonna go fill your bottle, so until I’m back I need you to be feeling extra happy and funny.” For some reason Emily forgot the pacifier was in her mouth when she spoke. “Ohkahy.” In a muffled, drawn-out answer she spoke, and suddenly blushed just as hard as her speech was impaired. Once Joyce walked into the kitchen, the idea of drinking from a bottle suddenly rung through Emily’s head yet again. She had already been using a sippy cup, but on the maturity meter this was a new low. It was another point of access to Emily’s already limited freedoms she had lost. Emmy’s freedoms, that is. Then again, Joyce regardless of the time or circumstances was often serving them both...In times like this though, the countless things which surrounded her and interacted with in various ways were all designed to service her as well as defer the sense of independence to someone else. The most glaring one was the portable bathroom hugging her hips, and now, there was a highchair to allow someone else to easily feed her, a bottle to prevent her from making spills, pacifiers to keep her soothed and silent, and a crib to keep her where she needed to be for sleepy time...Digesting it all was a little overwhelming, and as if to feel the demand of dependence personified, Emily lightly pressed a finger to the shield of her pacifier. The pace things were moving at was rapid, and at times these situations could feel like Emily was being hit by a truck. That being said, what made it all so comprehensible and possible to digest was because this micromanaged baby lifestyle was all controlled by her most favorite person in the world: Joyce. The woman had proven she didn’t mind seeing Emily naked (Rather, encouraged it), wet herself, use the toilet, and do so many other countless, embarrassing things. She received it all with such happiness and gratitude, and returned an everlasting shower of love and affection for the girl. In some ways being small was nice, and Joyce only made it feel even more special. With a creeping happiness, she licked the banana-flavored silicon in her mouth. A popping noise filled the room when a finger hooked around the ring of Emily’s pacifier gave it a small tug and the teat left her mouth. Clearly she’d been too focused on her own thoughts, because Joyce had re-entered the room with a filled bottle in hand. “You can have it back later, but for now I want you on this.” In exchange for the pacifier, Emily now held an adult-sized baby bottle in her hands, observing the light brown tint to it. It was her coffee drink! “Coffee? But I thought I wasn’t supposed to...” She spoke hesitantly, questioning the rules she could recall from their very first breakfast. Right after the first morning meal, it was straight to milk and juice. “Oh? Does that mean you’d like some juice instead?” Joyce asked, cocking a brow with a smirk. “Well, I suppose since that’s what you want...” As if she were reluctant, Joyce reached for the bottle which Emily promptly turned away with in order to protect her most prized possession. Playfully desperate, she did everything she could to deter her caretaker. “No, no! I was just wondering! This is fine, really!” Following right after she stuck the bottle into her mouth and started to suck. Of course it tasted delicious, and it made her feel even more foolish for even questioning its second coming. Miracles were meant to be experienced, not analyzed. She stole a glance at Joyce who had ceased her advances, and seeing the smile on her face only made Emily grumpy because she knew that she’d given the exact reaction Joyce was looking for. From Emily’s mild annoyance, it only made Joyce laugh as her intentions became quite obvious. Patting her on the head, taking advantage of the much thinner underwear between her legs she sat on her knees. “I think you keep forgetting that today’s your birthday, silly. I always want to make you feel nice and happy, but today I think I can make a few exceptions to our routine...” As she continued to nurse, a small smile escaped Emily as the rhythmic petting continued. “So?” Joyce broke the peaceful silence, rearing her face into Emily’s vision. “Did you find anything here you might wanna play with?” Sheepishly, she shook her head no. She’d been so busy thinking that the time really flew by. In a laughing fit, Joyce pulled Emily in for a hug while her hand scanned the playmat. “Do I really need to do everything for you? I don’t mind, but I’d really like some input here!” It was all in good fun, and the both of them knew it. Still, even Emily knew her incompetence over the most minor tasks was pretty laughable. “Now come on, we have a nice big variety of things we can do,” Still in Joyce’s embrace, Emily was turned to face the greater portion of toys decorating the floor. “We can read a story,” Joyce lifted one of the thick picture books, printed with a happy-faced caterpillar on the front. “Maybe play with a few of those puzzles?” She lifted a logic puzzle Emily hadn’t recognized from last time. It was another mass of pieces that had yet to be taken apart. “Coloring?” She pointed to the box of crayons. “Stuffies?” She lifted countless different soft animals, all looking happy as could be with simple existence, just as Emily was feeling with Joyce. Gently rocking her shoulders, Joyce cooed and urged her to make a decision. “Uhmm...stuffed animals, then!” Finally deciding, Emily threw herself at something blindly just to push them in some direction. It mattered little to her what they did, because she’d likely derive just as much pleasure from it compared to anything else. “And we have a winner!” Joyce cheered as she corralled a handful within reach. Despite the excitement Joyce had spurred in her voice and leaving the iron hot to strike, a pile now lay before Emily and she somewhat watched them awkwardly… Dumbly, Emily asked, “Well...what am I supposed to do with them?” Joyce couldn’t help but snicker at the question, as her cluelessness made her all the more adorable. “What do you mean, ‘do with them’? You’re supposed to play! Haven’t you ever played with stuffed animals before? Dolls? Action figures?” “Well...yeah...” Emily still spoke confusingly, recounting her genuine childhood which felt like light years ago. But now what? Quite frankly she was out of touch with her inner child...Joyce had aroused remnants of it, but this was still very much glued together by the love they had for each other. Finding direct substitutes for that was still very much a learning process. “Let’s do it together then,” Joyce spoke as she’d already grabbed an ovular-looking one. Clearly it wasn’t an animal Emily had ever seen. Nevertheless the smile and two small black circles for eyes was cute in a simple way. It didn’t answer the question as to what Emily was looking at though. There were no distinguishable features on it other than it being white and incredibly soft-looking. Honestly, she could have mistaken it for a small pillow. “This...” Emily tried her best to suppress a giggle, as she pressed her palm on the happy, soft ball. “Is a stuffed animal?” Taking it from Joyce’s hand and feeling a bit carefree at the moment she pressed her cheek into it and was rewarded by a soft and cushy response. “Okay, okay, maybe they’re not all animals...” Joyce admitted as she sat on her own bottom and scooted Emily right into her lap. In Joyce’s arms, Emily seemed like a tiny package of giddiness and pleasant smells. With hair like silk and skin so smooth, Joyce wanted to hug her little girl tight and never let go. “They’re mostly animals,” She corrected herself. “But I thought that one looked cute too...” Joyce explained, trying to excuse her own blunder. “I think it’s cute too, but what is it?” Inspecting, Emily kept turning it all over, looking for some distinguishable feature. Maybe that was its charm? That it wasn’t anything at all? “It’s mochi, if I remember...Haven’t you ever seen them before?” “Mochi? Really?” Emily looked at Joyce as if she hadn’t believed her for a moment, then back to the friendly face in question. Squinting her eyes as if it’d help, she restored her normal vision once it finally clicked. “I guess I see it,” Childhood memories started to return to her head in waves, and her teeth plunging into the squishy outer exterior just to snatch away some of the ice cream hidden inside was coming back to her. Although she was raised in America, her mom brought a good deal of her own culture too. “No, I definitely do.” A toothy smile formed across her face as she continued to poke and prod the squishy figure with her finger. “Well, it can’t just stay as mochi forever, you need to name it, you know!” “Name it? Why do I need to do that?” “Wouldn’t it be hard not to call people by their names? What would I do if I couldn’t call my little girl Emmy?” She pointed her finger to herself, which was right where Emily was sitting. “What would you call me if I wasn’t named Joyce, or Mommy?” Her point was obvious, and factually sound, yet when used as the basis for naming a stuffed piece of dessert it was clear just how much a silly notion was being overcompensated for…“All important things need names, because that’s how we recognize them! Mr.Bear is gonna need one too, ya know.” It’s funny how creativity always seems to be there when you need it the least, and as scarce as fire in an ocean when you need it the most. As Emily stared back at the fake piece of mochi, absolutely nothing dawned upon her. Every name she could think of wasn’t fitting for a squishy and soft piece of sweetness. Sarah, Carol, Alex, Carly, Anna, Amy, Natalie, they were all incredibly basic, which is why she tried toning down the syllables. As countless sounds rambled through her head, one along the conveyor headed straight to the bin suddenly slipped off its track and fell down the hole from her brain to her mouth, which stumbled out into the open. “Pip…?” Even she didn’t sound sure of the name itself, if you could even call it that. But wasn’t that the point of names? Words only had meaning if you gave it to them...Without that, everything anyone ever said was all just senseless babble. As if for confirmation she looked back to Joyce. “How’s that?” “Don’t look at me, silly! They’re your stuffie! It’s not about what I think, it’s only about what you want. But if my opinion did matter...I think it’s a perfect name.” “Pip it is, then.” Almost serious, Emily gave her head a small nod to her new inanimate friend, as if a contract had then been formed. Then with an exaggerated sigh Emily leaned her entire body back into Joyce, who could easily handle the smaller girl’s weight. Doing her best to stare up at Joyce while holding Pip to complete the trio, jokingly she whined, “Playing with stuffed animals is hard. Can we do something else?” “Such a lazy baby...” Fawning over her significant other who had managed to incite such pleasing emotions, Emily’s ability to lose herself to the process was beyond gratifying as was the extent it was being taken to was ridiculously funny. “How about you color a pretty picture for mommy, then? Sound a bit more fun?” “Is there gonna be time for other stuff, though?” “I don’t want to see you looking at the clock, missy.” The countless windows in the house would be a dead giveaway, but it’s not like they’d say much until the later hours...It was obvious this morning’s incident was still having its ramifications, and it annoyed Joyce that Emily was feeling forced to choose her actions based on this. She wanted Emily to feel unrestrained, and unfortunately that total feeling couldn’t be realized. “Now march your butt over to the couch. I’ll get the crayons and coloring book.” Hmm, this one seemed to have taken an extra day or two...or three...Sorry about that! Things have been busy. Nevertheless I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to hearing your thoughts!

I'm an Adult “I’m telling you, I’m an adult!” Lea stomped her foot angrily into the thick carpet, a small crinkle erupting from her waist. Defiant, she stared up at the amused look of her captor; dressed in a long skirt, button-up white blouse, and long, frilly apron. “Hoh?” The nanny brought the back of her hand to her mouth, as if a laugh were to escape her at a moment’s notice. “A big girl, huh?” She asked unconvincingly, seasoned with flakes of amusement. Her intentional choice of words obviously downgraded the term of maturity Lea had been fighting so desperately for, and like always the finer details were the most glaring... “N...Yes, an adult!” She reasoned to fight back on the semantics, but the entire goal was to convey an older age than the one she was being treated as...If every tiny obstacle were regarded as a mountain, there’s no telling how long they’d be there for. “Tell me, then, Lea,” Kneeling down, the nanny still loomed over the small girl as the maliciously playful smirk never left her face. “How are you a big girl?” Nervously, she gulped, as the size difference and gap in power became beyond evident now that it stared Lea right in the face. “W-well, I own a car!” “Mmm! Mmm!” The nanny nodded her head approvingly, adjusting her black-rimmed glasses, and adjusting her blonde bun. “That’s right! Big girls own cars! Can you tell me what kind of car, sweetie?” Was she actually buying this? Taken aback by her reaction, Lea continued with a thick sense of uncertainty in the air. “It’s...It’s a Porsche! 2017?” Her quizzical tone could only desperately pray that the nanny’s gaze wasn’t misunderstood... “Porsche? Oooh!” Lea could almost see the synthetic glitter shine behind her eyes, and her overbearing reactions were starting to make her feel sick to her stomach. “That’s an expensive one, huh? And how are you able to afford that car?” “With money, obviously!” Lea dumbly spoke in a rushed voice, as if doubt itself were hot on her trail. “I had a job until one of you--you stupid nannies came along and trapped me here!” “Ah!” Before a pin could drop, the nanny quickly interjected. “Language?” She sternly spoke, and mere remnants of her all-ears smiling expression remained. “You’re missing the entire point!” Lea angrily complained, watching her entire argument diminish into dust at the sound of a small piece of profanity--if you could even call it that. The past two months here had been pure and complete agony. The first few days were an especially terrible time; countless bare-bottom spanking after swearing and protesting...She winced from the phantom pain, remembering ancient punishments. Thankfully a word like ‘stupid’ wasn’t enough to get her over someone’s knee, but it certainly didn’t deter her from one. “I’m a board director at a company! This,” With exaggerating gestures, Lea motioned to their surroundings in the daycare. “Is not where I belong!” She owned an apartment! She was a city girl! How the bills must have been racking up by now...As infantilized as she was, some of her most ingrained adult responsibilities had never left her; commitments she couldn’t very well walk away from; couldn’t be taken away from. “A board director?” The nanny tried her best to look convinced, but it only hurt Lea more to know it was an obvious act. Clearly they were not on the same wavelength, and her pleas were being entertained like a game of make-believe. “And what do those do? Can you tell me?” In her lap, she interlocked her fingers to express a fabricated interest. She was just like everyone else in this damn daycare...Trying to make each and every single pants-pisser feel like they were the most important thing in the world; like their words actually mattered. Any real logic or sense to Lea’s words had been lost, simply because they were recognized as a child’s banter, and any rational adult knew to never take them seriously... Trying to prevent a total meltdown induced from aggravation, Lea could only hope that by pressing on with her story, something just might click for the woman. “I managed the company’s finances,” Trying to stay calm, she rubbed her temples. “You know, sat down in a big room with a bunch of other executives? We voted on decisions that influenced product design and general growth of the company.” She tried her best to list things off, but after being away for it for so long, fog was starting to spawn in between the appearing gaps...Time was a dangerous thing. “Wow!” The nanny exclaimed, plastered with an impressed look; an almost plastic smile, as if the positivity were etched in stone. “That’s a lot of stuff! And who helps you make those decisions? Those other people you mentioned?” Again, she remained on the edge of her seat, and to make sure Lea like the simple-minded child she was thought to be could understand, let a dramatic wave of brilliance strike her. “Oh! I bet I know one of them too…!” Slightly tilting her head to the side, Lea could only watch the nanny with complete confusion as she turned around to grab something out of her sight. How in the hell could she have known who Lea worked with? Much less, what behind her back had to do with the answer? “Ta-da!” Turning back to Lea, she held a stuffed bear. “I bet it’s Mr. Snuggles that you’re talking about, huh?” Still in her hands, she danced the bear from side to side, which only further incurred Lea’s wrath. “NO! I’m not talking about some bear!” In a sudden outburst, Lea yelled. Plunging her hands onto the bear’s lower half, the element of surprise worked to her advantage as she easily wrenched it from the nanny’s relaxed grasp. With a flailing arm, her momentum sent the lifeless creature into the air, and upon her hand’s release the furry friend sailed past the both of them, reaching the farther end of the room. She grit her teeth, and fumed at the nanny who looked somewhat shocked, but not nearly as perturbed as she would have been should someone her size have been doing this.“I worked with PEOPLE! NOT STUFFED ANIMALS! JUST LIS-!” Her screaming was suddenly silenced by the pacifier which selfishly invited itself into her mouth. “There we go,” The nanny casually sighed, as she inserted the silencer already dangling from a strap clipped to Lea’s skirted jumper. “I thought we made it very clear we only use our outside voices when we’re outside?” She raised a brow, suddenly dousing a torrent of water on Lea’s internal flame. Resigned to only steamed whimpers and moans, she quietly started to suck on the pacifier commanded by impulse. “Now until we move any further,” Her bubbly speech sharply declined into the colder and more commanding sectors of her personality. “You’re going to go and pick up Mr. Snuggles and tell both him and me that you’re sorry for being naughty.” The final word crashed like a steel weight on a glass cup. The meaningless word within Lea’s vocabulary had slowly been dressed in chilling and heart-beating sensations. It wasn’t what the word itself meant, but what could come from it. Everything she was subjected to; everything she’d become...All of it was a product of that single, two-syllable word; her conditioning. Her legs felt like jelly, and it wasn’t induced by pleasure. Quite the opposite. The nanny’s arms crossed over each other, and Lea recognized the posture all too well. A quick pivot on her heel and she was turned around, almost falling on her bottom, scrambling to the victim she once considered a foe. Looking over the bear, she lifted him almost like a wounded soldier, and returned him to them both, and set him beside her. “Well? How’s Mr. Snuggles supposed to know you’re sorry? How am I?” With furrowed brows, Lea staring into her toes, past the oddly comforting pacifier, she mumbled, “Ih’m sohwee....” Realizing the impediment in her speech, her eyes became glassy, as her hug around the bear’s neck, which could have been mistaken for a headlock, vice versa, tightened. “I know you’re having trouble adjusting,” The nanny patted Lea’s head, who couldn’t even bear to look the larger woman in the eyes. “But I really think it’s time we stop with the lies and silly stories...Don’t you? I hate seeing you like this, sweetie...” It almost sounded like she cared, and that’s what Lea hated the most. On another, unannounced, and unwelcome note, beyond Lea’s control, behind her pacifier she could only let out a small gasp as a pressure in full force came from her bladder. Like an oncoming car in the freeway, she felt her bladder transition from complacent to painfully full, and she was helpless to stop the overwhelming sensation as it emptied as soon as it filled. She let out an involuntary sigh as the wave of liquid warmth spread around in her underwear; soaking up almost every last bit. The entire ordeal lasting but a few moments, her powerlessness to stop it at all suddenly had tears in her eyes. “There, there...” The nanny cooed while she pulled the girl in for a hug, and was equally received by the smaller set of arms. Rubbing her back, she continued on with her small speech. “Whether you were a big girl or not, I think we can both agree this is much better for you.” She took a moment to make sure the pacifier clip was still fastened to Lea’s shirt. She finally let go of the girl though, and with shaky legs, and a desire to still fight for her independence, Lea tried to stay brave in front of the nanny. In just a few more moments, after she felt comfortable, of course, she’d remove the pacifier from her mouth and continue the discussion; prove she wasn’t the baby this nanny and everyone else here thought she was. “Besides, what big girls wear diapees, silly?” Playfully snickering, the nanny lifted the front of Lea’s skirt, exposing the discolored pamper around her hips, and the Barney characters across the plastic front smiling back. Angrily, Lea did her best to swipe the nanny’s hands away and once more conceal her shameful secret. It hurt even more that she knew better than to take them off...In the beginning, resistance like that would just result in spankings and maybe even an enema...But now? Now she couldn’t even trust herself without wearing one...They’d broken down and beaten her toilet habits so heavily, they were a shell of their former selves. Countless nights had been dedicated to mourning the loss of total continence...Not a single night was dry now, certainly not when they had her drinking something before bed before she went to sleep. It was some kind of milk, but it wasn’t...She knew it was formula, but she hadn’t the faintest idea what it was doing to her. “I’m not trying to be mean sweetheart, but facts are facts,” She spoke simply, trying to sound comforting. “There’s nothing wrong with wearing diapers, and heavens do you need them…” She took the opportunity to give Lea’s swollen diaper a squishy squeeze. “But aren’t they cute? Don’t you like Barney?” The question forced Lea to recall the countless, mind-numbing sessions in front of the daycare tv; learning how to share and count to 10...How her brain cells hadn’t been turned to mush completely was a mystery. And to answer her question, of course she hated Barney... “Because I can tell you right now,” The nanny sounded as if she were warning Lea. “They don’t put Barney on big girl panties.” With furrowed brows, and a frown mostly hidden by the shield of her pacifier, Lea balled her hands into frustrated fists at her sides as she stared back at the nanny. “Oh come on! Really?” She looked at Lea with a smirk, like the tiny girl was lying to herself. “I thought it was pretty clear by now, but you can’t lie to me, silly!” Before Lea could react, the nanny grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer by the back. She could feel the buckle to the straps going over her shoulders, connected to her jumper skirt being undone; the things that kept her confined to it. Now limp and lifeless, the skirt dropped to her feet, and there was nothing left to hide the wet diaper Lea was in. Her shirt just barely came to her belly button, so naturally it did much less for what laid below even that. “Tell me you don’t like cuddles and hugs?” Taking advantage of Lea’s exposed stomach, the nanny attacked it with a scurrying hand; dancing her fingers all across, forcibly causing a muffled squeal from behind Lea’s pacifier. As she kicked her legs helplessly, her wet diaper crinkled at the leg bands. In a spastic motion, Lea yanked the pacifier from out of her mouth, a small strand of drool following. Desperately, she tried to resume her vocal protest. “I-I-I’m not a-Hahahahahaha! Stop! I’m not a b-b-baby!” Amongst the tickles, she was too busy to notice another rush of pee escape her and pool into her already thick and squishy padded underwear. “Really? Then why am I the one responsible for filling your night-time bottle? Didn’t we just get finished telling you that you’re not allowed to use sippy cups anymore?” She chuckled while Lea burned over the cruel thought. “Didn’t we throw out your potty-training chart last month?” As the nanny playfully and happily listed off the varying points, it only made Lea wince and cry genuine tears; hidden by the ones of forced laughter from hearing on how many fronts she’d lost. The same nanny that brought her here: Nanny Abigail, had done something to accelerate her...unpotty training...Be it something in the food, her nighttime drinks...hypnosis? Regardless, she did something Lea didn’t figure out in time...clearly evident by her afterthought of the warm sensation in her diaper. She felt especially cheated when Nanny Abigail would be ‘busy,’ and couldn’t ‘drop everything’ just because Lea needed to use the toilet. The pull-ups hadn’t lasted but a few days. It was beyond frustrating, and the thought that she may never get a shot at the toilet again was a living nightmare. She’d see the evil and cryptic witch occasionally nowadays, but from what limited information Lea had, she was clearly meant for the ‘newer’ inductees. Once they’d been sufficiently broken, which Lea hated to see herself as, they were deferred to some of the more regular nannies. Like Nanny Fawn; the one who was currently commenting on Lea’s diapers...The only silver lining to this terrible fate and hopeless circumstance was that she was nicer than Abigail. Kindness was the last thing Lea wanted though, because it made it all the harder to fight everything which was being thrown her way. She’d always resist, or try to, but killing someone with kindness was unfortunately an effective tactic Lea found herself victim to. “What do you say we put this behind us? I’ll put you down for your nap, then we can go back to being our bubbly selves! I’ll even sneak you a cookie if you’re good about it~!” Temptingly she spoke, which even Lea was embarrassed to admit tickled her...After all this time, being stuck in this 24/7 daycare, there was only one cookie Lea had ever known about, and it was the cookie you’d get during snack time. Even she knew how pathetic she was, but there were some days she might try and be at least a little more complacent to earn herself one...Chocolate chips, fluffy dough, filled with a small amount of pleasant cream! Oh, it was too much to think about. It was all Lea could think of now. “So?” The nanny asked expectantly. “Do we have a deal?” As if it were one. With a cookie on the line, how could it have been a choice? “Y...yes...” Trying to sound bitter, Lea agreed. This was by no means the end of her fight, but a minor delay. She’d get her energy back and what she wanted, then it’d be right back to the races. Not over by a longshot… “Perfect!” The nanny cheered, already producing a legless, purple onesie by her side. Expertly she unclipped the pacifier from Lea’s shirt, then yanked it off her with little resistance. Awkwardly, Lea shifted from side to side, feeling the wet, thick mass encased in plastic shift between her legs. Somewhat expecting something of a much more hygienic nature first, Lea was a bit taken aback when the purple onesie was slipped over her head. “Aren’t...aren’t you gonna change me?” Lea had no issue with tending to her own underwear, of course, but it’s not like anyone here would trust her to...They didn’t exactly think she was an adult...All she could do was hope someone else would do it for her. A small whimper escaped her as the diaper pressed tighter to her, and the small noises of the pad squelching could be heard once the nanny snapped the crotch of the onesie shut. “I think that can handle a single nap,” Effortlessly, the nanny hoisted Lea into the air. “Once you’ve gotten your sleepy poopies and pee-pees out you’ll be ready for a fresh one! And because you’re being so good right now, I think we can also make one small exception for today...” Lea, who was waiting to be lowered into one of the many daycare cribs, came much closer to the floor instead and found herself laying on one of the floor mats. Laying her head on the pillow, a blanket followed next. “Don’t tell anyone that I did this for you, okay?” The nanny with a mischievous look pretended to zip her lips shut. Lea didn’t want any of this; being in a daycare, trapped in diapers, but within that, this was a small kind gesture...She didn’t feel great appreciating it though. It was nice to finally escape the crib though, even if this mat...wasn’t as soft as the mattress...She had to remind herself though that this was the maturity she was fighting for. She was an adult, after all. “Okay, now get a few hours of sleep for me, got it?” The nanny dimmed the lights, and apart from the streaks of light peeking through the blinds, the room was shrouded in a calm, daytime darkness. “I’ll be back with your bottle in a little bit,” A pacifier was suddenly slipped into Lea’s mouth, and she shifted onto her stomach, feeling her padded crotch press against the mat. And as she did, Lea felt a new pressure in her abdomen; trying to make its way out of the back this time...The nanny had left the room, as far as Lea could tell, and she could only whimper helplessly as she slightly stood from her knees. There’s nowhere else to go. I have to do it here...She could only think of the countless bathrooms she tried to get into, but all the doors had been locked. The only bathroom she had a right to was her own pants...Grunting, the only thing she could do was push, as the semi-solid mass slowly crept out of her, filling her wet pants with a new, muddy muck. What disgusted her the most was how easily it meshed with her padded and curved backside. Her stools were becoming softer and softer, as the food they gave her was slowly turning to softer and mushier substitutes for the once solid and lovely adult foods she could indulge in on a daily basis. She hated chicken and spinach the most. The only relief she had was when it was applesauce... At some point, her bowel movement reached its climax, and an unyielding mass pushed completely, and she could not only feel her bottom strain, but her onesie and diaper slightly stretch in response to her expanding diaper. At no point could she stop the push, and the sticky and smelly substance now clung to her. She breathed heavily through her nose, suddenly exhausted by her shameful deed, and as her diaper now felt unmistakably heavier, she could only whimper as the smell was just enough to surpass the generous amount of powder her waist had been showered in since the last diaper change. Happy she was, lying on her stomach in order to avoid a greater distribution of her mushy mess. The only sense of recourse she had was to resign herself to her nap, and hope that the nanny had it somewhere in her heart to change her when she came back...But despite this whole ordeal, she knew deep down in her heart, that she was a big girl.

Writing is just another creative medium to express certain ideas! I would think it goes for any writer, but what I can say for the stuff I write is that each work is trying to take on some unique idea or theme. Unique when compared to other stories? Probably not. For me though, I'd say so. When I do come back to this, the mood has no plans to change. This isn't meant to be a cushy story like a lot of other ones, and I hope to do that area of the Diaper Dimension justice. My creative license is just as valid as anyone else's, but I want to think my story to hit some of the more dreary roots of this universe. My earliest exposure to it has included some of the more hopeless scenarios for Littles, and the point of this tale is to turn that up a notch. Will it be totally hopeless? No, I don't think so. Like any story, it'll have its ups and downs, but the dye will be cast as a darker atmosphere. I really want to try flexing my writing muscles for that. It's something I'm new to, and think this is a great opportunity to try it out. *Knock* *Knock* Does that mean you liked it? ? Happy to hear it struck a chord, lol! I want to add more to this, but the next installment or the actual beginning I should say isn't quite ready yet...Admittedly, I'm not sure when it'll be! But stay tuned until then!

Hey! Sorry for the late reply, been a little busy with some other things...I can respect your tastes for particular vibes/genres, and I'm happy to know my fundamentals are sound, though. Regardless, I still have a long way to go! The views are really cool to see, knowing that people are reading my work, but I don't mean that in a narcissistic way, lol. That being said, what's even cooler is when I get to hear from people directly! As you said, the pacing is important, and I want to and still believe I'm respecting that to an appropriate degree. The fun in reading is you can always come back to it later! I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that this sort of story isn't what you're usually into? If that's the case, thanks for giving this a look, and especially offering your two cents! Isn't it? ? A little bit of chaos never hurt anyone! (Probably?) Objectively it's fun to see though! How will it jumble things up, I wonder? Thanks for commenting! Yeah, the pair have a pretty sweet thing going on, don't they? ? Writing this story, I've always enjoyed watching their dynamic evolve. The endgoal is always fun to look forward to, but given that I'm responsible for how the journey shapes, it's pretty obvious the journey is just as awesome! Thanks for the support!

How indeed? You'll have to wait and see! And so will I, because it's still in the drafting stage ? All in due time! Whoa! Sometimes I forget how long ago I started this...I really am slow ? That being said, it means a lot to me hearing from people in general, but all the more when I know they've been sticking around for a while. Really, thanks a bunch. I'm also happy to hear you enjoy rereading it! I hope I'm able to keep the vibes for the story consistent throughout, if not getting better because that's one of the things I worry about while writing...Don't worry about being able to express yourself to me, because I mean it wholeheartedly when I say that ANY words have me pretty excited. It lets me know that the people coming here to read my stuff really do like/want to help improve what's there or what might be lacking. And as for kissing, what do you mean...? ?? Joyce kisses Emily plenty! No idea what you're trying to suggest...? Thanks for commenting! I'm happy to hear from so many people that it's going strong, and I hope it stays that way! Thanks for the comment, and I hope you enjoy the next posting!

Glad to hear you enjoy it! Joyce's parents coming to visit is definitely an upset based on Joyce's reaction alone, and how that'll affect Emily and Joyce is something to think about ? Regardless, how they grow closer together isn't limited to just babying...Make of it what you will. Thanks for reading! There's always something interesting to be seen when you add fuel to the fire or crank the momentum. Regardless what will become of it, I'm not sure how predictable it'll be, but I at least hope it won't be badly received. Hope you keep your peels eyed for the next chapter! Who knows? In all seriousness, the time left between then and tomorrow is enough to do something, so their day might not be out the window just yet. How much more Joyce's mom (and dad?) will discover is a bit of a mystery right now; if they'll even discover anything at all. At the moment though, I can speak for Emily's character when I say that she's still getting used to the baby play, and because of that, her relationship with Joyce is a huge factor in what makes their sessions as smooth as they are. Adding someone else to the mix would definitely be a tough pill for her to swallow, but nothing's impossible. And about her baby clothes, they won't be hidden away forever! A big thing I want to focus on is making the events I illustrate seem as realistic as possible within the universe I'm working in. Something I'm trying to be conscious of is keeping everything cohesive; never a moment that sticks out like a sore thumb, or feels way too sudden. Characters can do unexpected things, but everyone has their limits. Haha, just caught your reply as I was responding to the other three! Thanks for the kind words and the family dynamic is something to think about, I suppose. What exists between Joyce and Emily now is specifically meant to stay between them, and them alone, but that doesn't mean an outside force can't disturb it. I'm not alluding to anything, but Joyce's parents visiting can potentially be disruptive in an explosive way.

13 - Birthday Surprises The big day officially started when Emily could feel her shoulder being gently shaken by a hand, coupled with an encouraging, quiet voice. “Come on, honey...It’s time to get up!” “What time is it?” She wasn’t really aware of what was happening, but all she had to cling on to was Joyce’s voice. “Early enough so that we can have lots of fun! Don’t you want to spend the day with me?” Groaning, Emily stirred as she finally opened her eyes, as Joyce’s hair dangled over her from above, paired with the face that filled Emily with such positivity whenever she saw it. “I do, but can I please have five more minutes?” When she moved, a sudden mass between her legs became unpleasantly loud, as well as squishy. Dreading the ability to remember the past, she recalled what she’d done at some point in between sleeping; waking up long enough to wet herself and then go back to sleep. She wanted to justify it as her just being tired, but it was even less of an excuse compared to last time when she was sick. Thankfully the only other person who’d know about it praised and even encouraged her for it. Still, maybe milkshakes weren’t the best idea… A sudden shock hit Emily when a hand pressed against the front of her pastel bottoms, certainly fishing for what was underneath the fleece clothing; for something much more plastic and wet. Emily could only lock eyes with Joyce as her hand inspected the damage, only one of the two smiling at the act, and the other blushing furiously. “I take it you had a nice sleep?” Joyce quickly assaulted her with a peck on the cheek, finally pulling her hand away from the material covering the wet diaper. “Can I have some coffee?” Although embarrassed, still in a dazed state, Emily briefly forgot her current role when asking for such an “adult” drink. Though, she quickly realized her mistake right after, but was too lazy to correct herself. Not only did she want to shift the topic, but if she was going to get up she could really use a booster. The kind of coffee Joyce would give her was probably that milk drink. “I’m sure we can figure something out for breakfast...” The obvious hints of mischief danced throughout her voice, and even Emily was smart enough to pick up on that. Joyce was all smiles, like always, but there seemed to be some sort of...fire behind her usual passion? As if she were twice as excited than usual? Maybe as things were moving along she was just all the more happy? “Can I...can I be changed first, though?” Sheepishly Emily muttered her request, as she got off the bed and stood next to Joyce, dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. Like last night the maturity dynamic was at play and making great strides, including the height and age difference which contributed to an amazing package altogether. The added weight to Emily’s underwear was suddenly feeling like another large contributor as well. “Of course you can!” Joyce spoke almost as if she were expecting the request, and easily slipped her thumbs in the waistband of Emily’s pajama bottoms, giving them a slight upwards tug. For the briefest moment, the stretched material slightly emphasized the curve of her underwear, and it had the sleepy Emily back to her bashful self. “But, I don’t really think is the place to be changing your diapers...” Joyce spoke in an almost disapproving tone, giving the rest of the room a few exaggerated glances. “Wh..what?” Awkwardly, Emily countered her statement with genuine confusion. “But...you always change me here?” The topic of diapers wasn’t high on Emily’s comfortability list, but facts were facts, and Joyce was really throwing her for a loop. “Maybe,” Joyce looked as if she were recalling a distant thought; not one that happened just last night. “But how am I supposed to change you here? Where are all your changing supplies?” “R...right there…?” What was she getting at? Joyce’s words felt completely foreign to Emily, as she pointed towards the dresser where the supplies likely were. Funnily enough, only Joyce was the one to go snooping in the “baby” drawers. She’d never been told not to, but Emily still felt it was unspoken her access to them was restricted or discouraged. Joyce, following Emily’s finger, looked at her as if it was Joyce’s turn to be confused, even though deep down she really wasn’t. For the sake of appearances though she maintained the act on the surface. “What do you mean, sweetie? That’s where we keep all your big girl clothes.” “Look at what I’m wearing, though!” Alluding to her pajamas and not the diaper, Emily looked down at herself and her attire. “Didn’t you get these from the dresser last night?” She walked over to the drawers she’d never personally touched and opened them up. Yet the inside of them was a sight she didn’t expect to see. Nothing. The drawer was empty, and all that stared back at her was the wooden bottom of it. “What…?” Emily voiced her confusion as it trailed off, and she looked back to Joyce who was donned with a secretive smile; amused with her little girl’s puzzled expression. “Where did all the stuff go?” “What stuff?” Joyce continued to play dumb. “You know! All the….baby stuff…” Emily’s voice came out quietly. “Oh! Now I get what you’re saying!” Joyce, as if something obvious was made clear to her pretended to remember a fabricated event. “Emmy,” Joyce started to chuckle. “Don’t you remember when I said this room was only temporary?” Temporary? What did she mean? “Temp…? What do you mean? You never said that.” And even if she did, where else did she expect her to sleep? Was this part of the game? Wait, she couldn’t be suggesting that she sleep with her, did she? Emily didn’t know how to feel about that… Closing the distance, Joyce pulled Emily in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay if you forgot,” Though, there wasn’t anything to forget. “All I want is for you to be happy. Now come on, don’t you want your diaper changed?” The embrace was nice, but it did no more to answer Emily’s questions. Still shrouded in obscurity, Emily accepted the strange request pertaining to her underwear, and complied with the equally as strange suggestion to leave the room. Where else was there to go? Walking out the door, Emily instinctively turned towards the living room, but was suddenly stopped by a pair of hands on her shoulders. “Other way…!” The excitement was impossible for Joyce to contain, as they drew closer and closer to the big reveal. Emily’s sense of loss and confusion was too adorable and wonderful to not revel in. It wasn’t the uncertainty itself that had Joyce on the edge of her seat, but for what it would transform into once things were set into motion. The countless days they’d spent together and the effort that was involved in them would finally be realized in just a few more feet. The masterful plan had been clear as day to Joyce for quite some time, and only until it had reached its climax would it be made known to Emily, and that was exactly what this moment was. It was the beginning of something beautiful, and something Joyce was fairly certain Emily would enjoy too. Admittedly interested now too, Emily staring at Joyce with her own smile for a few moments looked past her and down the other, much shorter end of the hallway. There wasn’t anything special, though. All that was there was were the three doors Emily had always known. One was Joyce’s room, the other was her office, and the other…? Well, the other Emily had known to be a storage room. So...so why did she suddenly start to feel so wonderfully apprehensive when looking at it now? Added more to the effect, her heart suddenly thumped heavily when she noticed the bright, red bow tied to the knob. Wordlessly, Emily stared back at Joyce as if she were waiting for confirmation. “Well? Aren’t you going to open it?” In all the time they’d spent together, Joyce had continuously showered Emily in gifts and surprises, but never did Emily feel such suspense when staring at a plain door. The simplicity in the covering which shrouded something much more mysterious was what screamed the most to her, and she almost wanted to turn away from the door and run; afraid she might not be able to handle the might of what Joyce had in store for her...But, so much of her wanted to see what was behind that door, and she did want to be changed… Taking a deep breath, Emily edged closer and closer to the knob, trying to be mindful of the red decoration wrapped around it, and with a firm grasp gave it a slight twist, rotating smoothly in response. All that was left was for Emily to give the door a push, and the room’s contents would be revealed. Once more, Emily looked back at Joyce who seemed even more eager than Emily was. Whose gift was it really? “Are you really going to drag this out so much?” Joyce jokingly, somewhat broke the atmosphere as she readied herself to practically push the girl into the room. Slowly, Emily’s push formed a gap between the door and the frame, as her eyes started to adjust to the revealing scene, and Joyce slightly bit her lower lip, watching from behind. The lights were already turned on, and in almost a dramatic fashion Emily looked away for just a second to rub the lingers of agitated sleep out of them, but when they came to, and the door was fully open, what Emily had seen completely betrayed her expectations, largely because the limits she figured Joyce would go to were far lower than their actual level; the current display suggesting otherwise. She couldn’t find the words as an indescribable sight was showcased to her. In soft, calming colors, plush, white carpeting, and many furniture items tailored for her exact size, staring back at the two was a fully stocked nursery. “It’s a...” Coherent thought had completely abandoned the smaller girl as she walked inside, and her feet touched the new flooring and the thick fibers just slipped in between her toes. The first thing she could see in all its splendor was unmistakably a crib, only for an infant of a much larger size...It was propped on the traditional four legs, and the two broader sides were barred, but it wasn’t as high off the ground. Inside of it was a thick mattress dressed in bedding and a few stuffed animals had already made themselves comfortable by the pillow. Next to it was a counter, just about the height of her usual bed but a tad bit taller, and a plastic-covered cushion ran across it. The cushion from a distance had all sorts of caricatures on it, and even some that looked familiar...From Emily’s angle, she could also see the counter’s interior was hollowed, and in it were an array of unknown bottles in varying size, an obvious package of wipes, and a cloth-draped wicker basket of thick-looking padding; diapers. But they weren’t usual ones...Or at least, not the ones Emily knew. They were much more decorated… Beside the changing table was a tall white bin, and even in Emily’s state of disbelief could she likely guess what it was for… Emily could also see another door, as her heart started to race faster, seeing each and every infantile item and addition to the room. It was what she could only guess to be a closet door, otherwise her heart wouldn’t be able to handle much more. Next to it was a full-length mirror against the wall, lined in a flowery trim that eased itself into the theme of the easygoing kid’s room. “I...Is this all for...” Again, as her mind raced a mile a minute she could only murmur and look back at Joyce, who was enveloped in complete, total secondhand ecstasy from Emily’s reactions. Finding her question falling short, Emily looked back to the rest of the room, finally remembering the concept of color, and noticed how all the wooden furniture was a dark, brown, maple wood, and the walls were cream-colored which when paired with the carpet and everything else painted a wonderful combination. A few simple paintings of landscapes were hung around the room, which although a strange addition, didn’t feel totally unwelcome...And although an argument to the closet theory, there was also a wooden dresser by the door in the corner. Turning around one last time, before she stared at Joyce, what stared back at her first were two, black spheres sewn into the massive giant of fluff contained by artificial fur sitting in the corner of the room. Lazily on its bottom, with arms by its sides and legs spread in opposite directions, a giant bear made itself comfy and was as quiet as a mouse. It was almost as big as Emily! Or maybe it was as big? Taken aback by the large stuffie, she almost didn’t notice the toy chest which was conveniently labeled so beside it. There were much finer details to the room as well, but to put so much stock in each and every one of them would have kept Emily and Joyce there all day. Emily, trying to ease her slightly heightened breathing, looked at Joyce who was almost on the verge of tears from induced happiness. “It’s a...nursery?” There was little expression in Emily’s voice, as she was still ridden with shock, as the moment in itself was not only surreal, but even if the room itself was tangible Emily still could not fully grasp it. “Yes!” Joyce’s voice erupted with joy, as she rushed in to give Emily an even bigger hug. “And it’s your nursery. Everything in here is meant for you!” Weakly, Emily returned the hug. She almost felt like when she did during that fever dream; responses lagging and emotions the same. But the one thing that resonated so strongly within her was the idea of ownership. Her nursery. It was hers. Everything in this room, dedicated to caring for someone who needed to be cared for, and waited on hand and foot for the most basic things. A crib to protect her from falling out while she slept, a changing table to dedicate the craft of keeping her pants dry, colors and pictures meant to reinforce happy feelings, and toys inducted with the sole task of keeping their user bubbly and entertained. “H..how long have you been working on this?” “A little bit, honestly...” Joyce’s enthusiasm simmered for a small bit to remember her countless efforts and long nights. “But it was all worth it, just to put a smile on your face, and to bring us closer together.” A small sniffle could only escape Emily as all the random pieces from their time together started to fall into place. The days when Joyce might be an hour later than usual, or yesterday when they spent especially long outside the house, keeping this door locked, and even going to visit Amy? “But...but why?” With a faint sense of confusion, Emily looked at Joyce with a face that suddenly broke Joyce’s sense of bliss. “Why all of this for...me?” As soon as she popped the question, an odd sensation swept over Emily. A wet sensation, and it felt as if it were rolling down her cheeks. Pressing a hand to where the feeling was coming from, she pulled it away to see a clear liquid on her finger. Tears. They were tears. And they didn’t stop coming, as an unknown part of Emily burst from within and took control of her vision; blurring from the oncoming stream. Awkwardly, Emily gave a brief chuckle as she continued to stare at Joyce. “I-I don’t know why I’m crying?” Without a word Joyce came back to her, only now Emily responded with a much tighter grip, as the contact had her break into a muffled sob. The physical contact was an instinctive reaction, but the emotional turmoil that followed was something completely unknown to Joyce. Why was she crying? Did she hate it? Did she not like it? A sinking feeling started to grow in her heart, but more than anything she wanted Emily to be happy. “Do you not like it?” It was a question of concern that discarded her personal feelings, and only cared to take input from Emily’s. “N-no...It’s-It’s not that…!” She could only hug tighter as her words were harder and harder to squeeze out. What weighed on her the most was the very nursery itself, and to learn that while she lived from day to day, Joyce the entire time had been planning something much grander that could never be realized in the span of a single day; the span of a single week! The more Joyce did for Emily, it came with Emily’s own expectations to somehow return the favor, even if Joyce only wanted it in feelings. No matter how much reinforcement Joyce could try and give, it couldn’t have prepared Emily for something like this. “Am I...am I really that special to you?” Teary-eyed, Emily looked up at Joyce’s eyes. “Y-you would go so far for...for me?” Her mighty, motherly will started to tremble from the sound of her words, as even Joyce’s eyes started to water. Lowering her hands past Emily’s bottom, she gripped them around Emily’s thighs and hoisted her into the air, causing her legs to wrap around Joyce. “I would do anything for you!” Her voice was thick as she rubbed the pajama girl’s back. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want to do so much for you! Every day I want to make your sun shine as bright as possible, Emily, and never have I felt this way about someone before...” As the feelings in her heart poured out, so did the tears from her eyes. “You’ve given me something that I never want to let go of, and only nurture and grow closer with! I love being with you, as an adult and a baby. Everything about you, from your cat naps, to your cuddling, mindful personality, playfulness, gratitude and appreciation makes me want to keep you close and never let go. We haven’t been together for very long, but the things you’ve done for me have become so essential that I can’t ignore the feelings you've awakened in me...” Each and every sentence, word, piece of grammar, and pause were like iron fingers plucking the strings to Emily’s heart, which sung only the most wonderful tunes. Although a surprise in itself, the babyish feelings and willingness to submit was what threw Emily for a loop, as well as her quickness to adapt and enjoy it in much heavier troves…But even more, beyond that, it was also coupled with a sense of happiness to be with Joyce even outside of their mommy time, which only burned stronger with every passing day that they were together. Sudden memories of Jack invaded her mind; moments from when their relationship was in its prime, and how every moment when they were together was like walking on cloud nine. Being with the person you wanted to spend your time with the most was an inexplicable sensation, so why was she thinking of that now? Yet, asking such a question was obviously stupid, as when she was buried in Joyce the answer was too obvious. “Y-you’re important to me too...” Emily laughed through her tears, losing her entire composure over Joyce’s boundless compassion. “I...I want to be with you Joyce. I want to be together.” The affirmation only sent a new wave of relief over Joyce, as she hugged tighter and showered Emily in kisses. “That’s not fair!” Joyce chuckled, trying to blink the wetness out of her eyes, “I’m the one that’s supposed to make you happy!” The pair kept laughing as they showered each other in their love, one still in the arms of the other. Both of their hearts, standing in the middle of the nursery, had reached a point of complacency and euphoria which had never been known to either of them. Apart from the room itself being out of a fantasy book, the circumstances themselves were one in a million, and both of them in their own right felt like they were one in a million to be fortunate enough to be blessed by the other. Another minute went by until their feelings had finally settled down, and Joyce hiked Emily up once more to regain her grip. The stretching on her bottoms made the diaper’s outline a little more obvious, which brought the purpose for entering the nursery back to Joyce’s mind. “I’m so happy to hear you like it, Emily.” Once more, Joyce attacked Emily with another kiss. “But what do you say we break in your nursery with its first diaper change?” Outward emotion being her means of communication, Emily nodded her head as Joyce carried her to the changing table, setting her down on her back. Everything in the room was designed and constructed with Emily’s exact figure in mind, courtesy of Amy’s measurements which Joyce need only forward to the design team. Emily’s head rested on the small cushion at the end, and only from the knees down did her legs hang off the table, spread apart far enough for Joyce to get herself right in between. “W...will it hold me?” Looking at her surroundings, Emily suddenly felt uncertain of whether or not the furniture could actually support her. It was for a baby, after all… “Yes, it will,” Joyce dance her fingers across Emily’s palm. “Everything in this room was made for you, and no one else. I mean it when I say this is your nursery! The only reason any of this is here, or came to be is because of you.” Everything she said was true, and the greater part of it all was because of Emily. The smaller bits and pieces were things anyone could get, but the much bigger items were one of a kind and only because of Emily. The repeated idea of ownership tickled Emily in such a pleasant way. The room she stayed in before was technically hers, but it was a thing prior to her being here. But now there was something in Joyce’s apartment that existed only because Emily did. There was something here that came to be because Emily gave it a reason to. She was a part of Joyce’s life, and the inverse for her own was true as well. It was yet another piece of physical evidence. “And even all the little additions are meant just for you, too!” Taking hold of something out of Emily’s sight, a strap coming from the table was in Joyce’s hand, and she placed it over Emily’s stomach as it buckled into the other end; out of Emily’s visible reach. “Hey...what gives?” Emily tried her best to make her voice sound like a protest, but the sudden sense of restriction had her giddy. “This way when you’re still sleepy, I can make sure you don’t roll off when I need to change you!” The reminder of being so easy to handle while asleep had the girl blushing again, but almost wanting to wake up like that at some time...To be on the changing table, opening her eyes and finding Joyce drawing something new up between her legs...Never in a million years would her past self ever think of having such thoughts, much less getting excited over them! “And what’s more, it gives Mommy the advantage for tickle attacks!” With the rise in her tone, Emily suddenly felt a hand slip itself under her shirt and scurry across her skin, with each point of contact sending shocks and jolts that had her squirming and squealing. Out of reflex she kicked her legs, but they had no chance of hitting Joyce as she was already in between them; well beyond Emily’s first line of defense, and too far for her own hands to reach. The strap kept her from going far, and despite being bigger than the average baby, not only could the strap contain her, but the table itself showed not even the slightest sign of strain in response to her weight and struggle. It was perfect. “Stop! Stop!” With a new wave of tears Emily’s infectious giggle filled the room as she was mercilessly slaughtered by the countless waves of nailed-infantry, laying waste to her most sensitive parts. This strap was made of evil and sin, as an agent of the devil itself could it submit its victims to the greatest form of torture possible; tickle attacks. Joyce finally relented, sounding the end with a wet kiss on Emily’s bare stomach. “Okay, without further ado, let’s get you out of your jammies!” Starting from the waist, Joyce grabbed the fleece, pastel bottoms and slipped them off her legs, revealing the slightly discolored medical diaper. It of course still had to take much more before warranting a real change, but it was enough to count in their books. It wasn’t Emily’s first time being changed, but certainly was it her first in a nursery setting, on top of being on a changing table...Unexpectedly it added a new element to it all...A pleasant one. The tapes were peeled from the plastic, and Emily’s legs were lifted by Joyce and the diaper was slipped from underneath. It also became absolutely clear Emily was totally at Joyce’s mercy. The strap was more than enough to prove that, but without anything for her feet to stand on, she couldn’t even help in lifting her own bottom for a change. “And that will be the last you ever see of those diapers, sweetheart!” Clearly she was the happiest to hear those words, and Emily suddenly remembered the decorated ones she saw beneath the table from earlier. Balling up the one which Emily was just wearing, Joyce dropped it in the white bin nearby. “These ones are much cuter!” Grabbing one from the basket below, Joyce held a new, thicker pad in her hand which had been decorated in all too familiar characters. Familiar faces from decades and a handful of years ago...Unfolded for Emily to see it all its splendor, Sesame Street figures danced across the plastic front, as the occasional letter block spaced them for the sake of spicing up the artistic variety. The wings were a faint green, and the tapes had bright yellow strips along the tips. “Are those...mine too?” “Well, I don’t know anyone else in the house that wears diapers.” Gleefully, Joyce let out a small laugh once she knew the words hadn’t hurt Emily. Overwhelmed as things already were, the new line of diapers pushed it to a whole new level, as the plastic padding for babies stared back at Emily. Before, the medical diaper was open to interpretation, and from an outsider’s perspective could even be considered a medical condition. But this...with these diapers...There was no room for misunderstanding, and anyone that would see it would know the person in it was of a very specific age and mindset. Before the diaper came Joyce used a wipe to clean off Emily’s lower half, and although being cold she toughed it out. Her legs were once more in the air and her bottom followed soon after, and she was suddenly lowered onto a new cloud. Instantly upon touching it a cloud received her cheeks with a cushiony hug. Compared to the medical diapers, this one had strangely gone even further beyond the comfort level those could provide, and without considering how the outside looked, it was a feeling Emily wouldn’t mind having in all her underwear… “Does it feel nice? Soft?” Joyce’s questioning was not only meant to enforce positive sentiments, but also to rate the handiwork of the company’s lab. Their bonuses were riding on it, after all...Much more importantly, so was Emily’s satisfaction. “It feels...nice...” It was weird admitting to the soft feeling of the diaper, but it was the truth. “How did you find these? I didn’t even know they made stuff like this...” Bigger diapers was one thing, but retail ones with licensed characters on them too? How could someone have pulled that off? Well, clearly, if anyone could it was Joyce, but that didn’t mean it was easy. “Mommy’s secret,” Joyce pretended to grab an imaginary zipper and drag it across the seam between her lips.”Don’t worry about where it came from. Just let me know what you think of it as we go.” The only familiar part of the change was the same lavender powder as always, and then the front of the diaper was brought up to her crotch. In the midst of it, the bulk forced Emily’s legs a little bit farther apart than the medical one normally did. Certainly these were thicker… The four, strong adhesives were laid like metal bolts into a concrete foundation, and the plastic material used as the diaper’s foundation seemed firm, but not in any way uncomfortable to the wearer. Even when Emily slightly shifted her legs though, there was a loud crinkle that had Emily wondering if it was the changing table pad, her diaper, or both. Taking just a moment to check the leg bands on the diaper, ensuring a snug fit, Joyce capped off the change with one last look at Emily, strapped to the table, red all over, with her magnificently childish undergarment on display. It was everything Joyce was hoping for and more! She finally unstrapped Emily, and helped her up, with her bottom crinkling all the way. “I think these ones are louder...” Emily stole a quick look at her diaper, much more awkward to see the theme around her waist now. What it stood for was what had Emily the most excited, but how it actually looked put her mind in a weird space. In a way it was kind of cute...but every time she remembered that she was the one wearing it, those ideas were harder to cling on to. Unable to look her in the eyes, Emily could only let out a murmur while she buried her feet into the floor. “D...does it look fine?” Taking hold of Emily’s hands, their eyes met next, and Joyce shined a look of pure happiness with such intensity it seemed to vaporize any momentary shame, embarrassment or uncertainty Emily was feeling. “It’s perfect.” Slightly, Emily shuffled her feet, and the diaper responded in tune, which only made Joyce want to gush even more. Emily didn’t feel like carrying the topic any further, hoping the usher things along. She was enjoying everything right now, but being completely honest with her feelings was a bit more difficult. “Could we go have breakfast now?” “Well, we can, or I can get you dressed for the day first?” Nervously, Emily started to eye the unopened door, harboring a sneaking suspicion what might be behind it… “Breakfast first, please.” Taking a small breath, she hoped Joyce would allow her at least a small breather. Everything was moving with such momentum it felt like she was only hanging on by a few threads. “And thank you...” “Thank you for what?” Joyce had taken Emily by the hand, leading her to the kitchen. “For...you know...everything.” “I mean it, you know, when I say you’re special to me. Even if you’re my little girl right now, when you aren’t I still consider you as some irreplaceable. I just hope I’m not pushing you too far into the deep end...Please let me know if that happens.” As they rounded the corner, Emily in just a shirt and diaper was happy to escape total babydom for at least a few moments, but those hopes were quickly stomped out when her eyes addressed the elephant in the room. Made for an adult, a high chair sat in the place of where Emily’s usual seat would be, and the seat itself was a tad bit higher off the ground, and of course the back of the seat was cushioned and a tray was currently locked into it. Even from afar Emily knew it’d fit her...The sight had thrown her heart into hysterics once more. “You really do go all out...” Unable to find any mental or emotional ground, Emily could only stand dead in her tracks as the contraption looked back at her. “Do you want to try it?” Joyce poked with her question, finding it hard to mask her own bias for an obvious answer...It was Emily’s day though, and there’d be plenty more opportunities in the future… “I...I’ll use it...” Again, the smaller, yet much louder voice in Emily’s head was screaming to have her way, and she found herself being strung along by it and Joyce’s antics. Clearly overjoyed, Joyce took the first step to unlock the tray, sliding it out and creating an entrance for Emily to slip into. Before her was an infantile throne waiting to be occupied, and all she needed to do to claim it was take a few steps. Shakily walking forward, Emily placed a foot on the crossbar as leverage to lift herself up to the seat, and planted herself into it; receiving her figure quite nicely. Her back became acquainted with the soft, yet firm cushioning, and the plastic seat curved into almost like an alcove for her to sink into. Her legs dangled from the large chair, and she noticed how her toes could just reach the bar she stepped off of. Sitting down now only better acquainted her bottom with the pad it was wrapped in. “Does the chair feel nice too?” Making sure her arms were above it, Joyce then slipped the tray back into place with a click, situating her baby girl into place. “I guess, in a way...” Again, her opinions were as reserved as the ones concerning her diaper. Joyce took it all in stride though, given how different this must have been to their usual dynamic. That being said, only time would ease the process, and like always Joyce was over the moon, and she had expectations for Emily to follow soon after. And with the chair, to Emily it also encouraged the idea of security. It was another piece that felt quite sturdy and would hold onto her quite well. The amount of detail and thought that must have gone into this was almost too much to comprehend in itself. “And just to make sure you don’t slip out by accident and get a boo-boo...” Joyce started to explain as she knelt down, beyond the tray and out of Emily’s sight. She could feel forces at work beneath her, and the sound of another click as a strap found its way in between her legs and up her crotch. “There!” Joyce clapped her hands together in a satisfied expression. “You look adorable beyond words!” Unable to escape now, Joyce gave Emily a few more kisses before moving over to the counters, knowing full well Emily wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not that either of them wanted to. Curiously, Emily shifted around in her seat, taking note of how the crotch strap slightly pressed into her when she moved. It was funny in a way how it served as a constant reminder she wouldn’t be going anywhere...The only place she had to be was where her caregiver deemed fit. Where her mommy told her to be. “Can I pick breakfast?” Emily called from her stationary point, aimlessly kicking her legs the slightest bit. Joyce hadn’t bothered to turn around while she worked with the coffee maker. “Well, maybe...It is your special day, after all...” Hearing her debate the question even had Emily giggle the slightest bit. “But you’re the one who got me all this stuff. How does that make it my special day? If anything, it’s yours!” “Very clever, Emmy, but baby or not, I wanted to make today very special for you. You deserve it.” Baby or not? Didn’t that have to do with today completely? What else would have made it special? “What do you mean? Isn’t that why today’s special? Because of the nursery?” Finally, Joyce turned back to Emily, with an almost small amount of disbelief. “Are you kidding?” She slightly tilted her head with a smirk. “N...no?” What was she missing that was so important? How obvious could it have been? “The nursery was a gift, birthday girl!” Joyce even gestured to the high chair Emily was in. “I didn’t just pick a random day to do all of this, you know!” “Birth…?” May 29. The date suddenly clicked, and so did Joyce’s question from earlier about her plans for today. The deeper meaning behind Joyce’s actions was suddenly revealed, and added a whole new layer of gratitude to the day’s festivities. A new wave of tears washed over her. “F-for my birthday?” The happiness was too much to handle, and Emily couldn’t compose herself. Thankfully the chair could hold her in place while her emotions ran rampant. “I figured you knew!” Joyce could only chuckle as she rubbed her cheek. “I’d have done this for you any day of the year, but I figured for your birthday it’d mean a bit more. Does it mean that much?” “I-it….it does…!” Between sobs, Emily managed her words. Never had someone gone to such lengths for her; someone she’d only known for such a short period of time. It only made her want to grow closer to Joyce, though, and to continue cherishing what they had. After she left her parents and before Joyce had come into her life, birthdays were just a day like any other, minus the possible call from family and maybe a few friends. Absorbing everything had her face all out of sorts as it became wet again. However, that was quick to change when a piece of cloth dried her face. “I wanted to wait until breakfast was ready, but given you’re a little emotional today I suppose I should put one on you now...” Emily as a spectator to Joyce’s words and actions, the cloth used to dry her face then found itself around her neck, and a knot was tied with the two ends of it behind her. The sudden bib covered the front of her chest, and despite being upside down Emily could read it as “Mommy’s Mess Maker.” “I’m not emotional!” Emily playfully spat back, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m just happy...that’s all.” “I know you are,” Joyce smiled. “And I’m happy too. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be yourself around me. Crying is perfectly okay with me, and every other emotion that comes along with it too. Now, birthday girl,” Joyce played with the back of Emily’s hair, setting it behind her shoulders. “What would you like to eat today? We can do french toast, eggs, bacon, pancakes, mu-” “Pancakes!” The answer came faster than did the rest of Joyce’s list. “Pancakes it is!”Almost trying to mimic the thrill, Joyce moved back over to the fridge to get out the eggs. “Can I have something to drink first, though?” The thought of coffee somehow never escaped her mind through this whole ordeal, and smelling the aroma coming from the household appliance almost had her squirming. “I was just about to finish that part,” Joyce’s back turned to Emily, she had the milk beside her while she put together a drink Emily was already familiar with, only not in the same kind of cup. Conveniently there was a cup holder in the tray, but it wasn’t for just cups either...Placed in the socket was a tall, plastic bottle capped by a rubber teat, and it was filled with the same, light brown liquid that the sippy cup once was during their last session. “No more sippy cups?” Emily joked as she lifted the bottle, eyeing it curiously as she placed her mouth over the top. Again, especially strange given how much of a first it was, but Emily didn’t find herself as perturbed so much. “This way you can bring it anywhere, and there’s no chance of spills!” Joyce took a sip of her own, much more concentrated version in a regular mug, having flashbacks to when Emily hadn’t even touched her black coffee. Seeing her warm up to a much more watered down version was fitting in a way. Biting down on it, Emily gave it a small suck, rewarding her with a small burst of coffee-milk. It was just about as rewarding as the sippy cup, if not less, and consequently the bottle had her working even harder to fish the rest out. She was so occupied with the task, she hadn’t even considered just how precious she might look to Joyce. For that reason, Joyce was currently enjoying the view of her little girl work at a part of her breakfast, and her padded posterior peaking just beneath the plastic tray. Despite one being much more mobile than the other, both parties equally enjoyed their current standing, and their brief interactions between the moments when Joyce had to tend to the pancakes were small, little bundles of love that revealed the sweetest and nicest surprises. “And with that they’re ready!” Joyce announced as she set the plate on Emily’s tray. It was slightly higher than the table, but Joyce still maintained the high ground. Emily could only marvel at the final product; sliced into bite-sized pieces, dressed in butter and syrup, as well as topped with a pair of strawberries. Emily had a small, sinking feeling Joyce was going to make her use her hands, but thankfully that premonition hadn’t come to pass, when a fork and knife followed with it. Just when she was about to dig in though, Joyce swiped the utensils from her hands almost like a tease. “Not so fast!” Joyce happily tutted as she walked behind Emily again, who could only follow her movements for a short while until the chair prevented her from doing so. “Were you gonna feed me?” Almost shamelessly, Emily asked, when she could feel her hair bunching up from behind, which got her thinking that walking into her blind spot didn’t support the theory so much… “If you’d like, I can,” Joyce fastened the bulk of Emily’s hair into a band. She suddenly started to think how she’d look if she used a ribbon instead…”But I’m more concerned about keeping your hair nice and pretty. The bib might keep your clothes clean, but your hair’s a different story...” The way she spoke, as if Emily couldn’t be trusted, caused a playful snicker to escape the girl in question. Joyce kept the hair loose enough so it didn’t look strained, and still maintained its volume, but kept out of her face. Coming back into view, Joyce looked Emily over and sized up her handiwork, cupping Emily’s cheeks, rubbing the tips of their noses together. “I can’t tell what looks sweeter!” She laughed. “You, or the pancakes!” In her heart, it wasn’t much of a contest, and her continuous fawning was certainly starting to have its effect on Emily, who looked to be getting more squirmish by the minute, and a plastic crinkle sounded with each shift and shake. It was like the harder she tried to stay composed, it only dug a deeper hole. “Now do you want me to feed you, or do you think you can handle it?” Emily pondered the thought for a moment. “You decide.” Emily really didn’t mind either way. What had her more interested were the constant opportunities to relieve herself of choice. The more she was finding it to occur, a strange addiction was starting to set into place. Somehow the moments always felt better when she knew Joyce had total control. Feeding her in a high chair; a place which Emily could only leave when she deemed it so, was something Emily oddly felt she could derive inexplicable pleasure from. Needing no further encouragement, Joyce speared a few pieces of fluffy cake with the fork, and eased it into Emily’s part-way open mouth. As if she were the one eating it herself, she could only writhe in happiness as she imitated ‘Mmm’ing noises for Emily, which only set the other into a fit of giggles. “Tasty?” Happily, Emily nodded her head, with her ponytail bobbing as a chain reaction. “Can I...can I have another one?” Instead of a verbal answer, more syrupy goodness was slipped in between her lips, sending Emily’s mouth and stomach into another state of euphoria. She leaned forward the slightest bit as the fork was sliding out, trying to hang on to the taste of fresh syrup for as long as possible, but the strap between her legs and the tray locked in place prevented such. Her inability to move at all tickled them both in a weird, but positive way. The teat from the bottle came next, which Emily happily accepted, trying to outdo her performance from last time, somehow reasoning it might be possible to extract even more liquid from the bottle if she discovered the right technique. The lightly caffeinated beverage was the perfect chase to a sugary, fluffy opener, and while she sucked, Emily mischievously eyed one of the two pieces of fruit; plump, vulnerable prey ripe for harvest. Of her own command this time, Emily removed the bottle from her mouth, setting it back into its designated place. Before Joyce could collect another mouthful of pancake, Emily snagged one of the strawberries from the top of the stack, and quickly inserted it into her mouth, forcing the fruit's juices to pool in her mouth as her teeth shred the innocent berry to smithereens. “Ah?” Joyce raised her brow, breaking the euphoric spell Emily was caught in. Only a single look needed to tell her she’d broken the imaginary rules. “Maybe when you’re the one feeding yourself, but the fruit comes after you finish your food when I’m in charge,” Joyce started to chuckle as she eyed the last, lonely piece of fruit. “Maybe Mommy’s getting a bit hungry too...That strawberry does look good...” “No!” In a small shout, Emily looked as if her firstborn had been threatened to be taken away, only under much sillier circumstances, as she broke out into a bashful laugh, realizing she’d just tried to protect her breakfast from certain demise. “Just kidding~!” Daringly, Joyce wet one of her fingers, then swabbed the corner of Emily’s lightly syrupy mouth and stuck it in her own. “I promise I won’t touch anything on your plate.” Reaffirmed by their super serious contract, the food and drink kept coming, and as they moved along Emily started to squirm lightly for a new reason. The past night’s liquid, and maybe even some of today’s was catching up to her...Clearly she hadn’t finished her business between sleeping fits this morning or last night. She suddenly started to feel a bit desperate once she realized just how much the feeling of restraint worked to her disadvantage now. Her bladder started to press, and it was a little hard to ignore, and her legs couldn’t come completely together with the padding involved. And as she looked at Joyce, who to Emily was shrouded in mystery regarding whether she knew of her dilemma or not, was so absorbed in the fun of feeding her that nothing could seem to break her concentration. As Emily watched, she could feel herself wanting to protect this moment more than anything, and she could feel her legs tighten a little as she pushed. She tried her best to be discrete, but it wasn’t so easy of a task. She could only feel herself having any ground against second nature itself by gripping the edges of the tray as an aid. “Emmy? What’re you…?” Joyce’s voice trailed as the answer became painfully obvious, and Emily was reunited with a familiar feeling of shame, but it didn’t dampen her momentum. A few seconds later, she could feel the first few droplets trickle out, and soon after a growing stream followed. The small task had her exhale with a sigh, as the warm pee soaked into her diaper. Sitting back down, she could feel it creep around her waist and groin, but after a good few seconds the feeling of wetness seemed to be gone. The diaper was certainly more squishy, doing its job as intended, but it only felt warmer now. She’d just wet one of her new diapers for the first time. “Emmy...” Joyce spoke with a tinge of surprise, but more with pride than anything else. She hugged Emily as best she could, avoiding the plate beneath her. “I’m so proud of you! Thank you so much!” It was objectively strange to thank someone for wetting themselves, but it was on such a personal level, it only heightened the positive sentiments within Emily. The hug and praise meant everything to her, but when she unconsciously tried to move, and the strap pressed into her now squishy crotch, it had totally sapped her of all her bravado. “Can you go back to feeding me now?” The request was quiet, and of course ashamed. Actions yet again spoke louder than words, and the plate of food was one step closer to meeting its end. The bottle was on the fast track to being empty as well, and more and more small spots of syrup started to find its way around Emily’s mouth; attributed to the disconnect between who was eating, and who was doing the feeding. “What are we gonna do next?” “Well, after I wipe down your mouth, we’re gonna get you dressed and then play for a little bit. Sound good to you?” Again, Joyce’s words earned nothing but agreeance from Emily, who now had her sights set on what she’d be wearing. What, simple, yet cute outfit it could be had her wondering… Already worked into a routine, Emily held her mouth open as the sticky substance was just about to be within reach, yet she was suddenly denied when Joyce’s phone started to ring and her gesture was put on hold. “And who could that be…?” Muttering to herself, Joyce set aside the fork for a brief moment to check who it was. Thankfully the mood Emily had put her in was ecstatic, because seeing the caller ID read as ‘Mom’ didn’t have her nearly as flustered as she was last time. “Hi Mom,” Joyce spoke casually with the phone pressed to her ear, and Emily did everything in her power not to make a peep. Her underwear suddenly had her paranoid, remembering just how loud it could be when it crinkled...even when it was wet. “How’ve you been? You don’t usually call so early...” The other end responded, while Emily was completely oblivious to what was being said; only receiving one end of the conversation. “Hi, honey! Have you been well? How about Emily?” “Uhm...” Joyce, staring at nothing in particular while she talked, glanced at Emily for a brief moment, who looked to be as stiff as a board and red as a tomato; as if she were being watched by the stranger in the phone. “She’s asleep right now. But she’s doing well.” Emily silently stared with suspicion. So her mom did know about her? Rational thought dominated her mind, knowing the more secretive part was well-kept in the shadows...At least she hoped. “Asleep? Isn’t it almost 8:00 for you?” Her mom sounded with almost genuine surprise. “We’re not all like you, mom.” Joyce kidded, but spoke with a tinge of seriousness that reflected her mom’s past habits. “If anything, I should be asking why you’re the one that’s up so early. It must be like 5 in the morning for you!” “Early bird gets the worm!” Her voice was a matter of fact, as if there were no fault in her habits, much less her equal expectations of others. “More importantly, you seem to be a bit more cheery since we last talked…?” Her deductive skills were acute, and at some times damning to the point it felt like nothing could escape her looking glass. “Maybe I’m just a morning person?” Mindlessly, she started to squeeze Emily’s foot, who was trying her hardest not to incite a response. Emily could only send a prayer of silent thanks it wasn’t another tickle attack. “Maybe I’m finally starting to rub off on you, after all!” Her mom laughed, while Joyce silently smirked, keeping the true secret to her happiness under safe wraps. “I don’t want to be rude, and it’s always nice to hear from you,” Picking the fork back up, Joyce reunited Emily with her food, already practiced enough to collect more onto its prongs without needing to look too much. “But why are you calling me so early?” “Just a wellbeing check, I suppose?” Her mom’s voice was somewhat genuine, but seemed to be alluding to something else… “Uh-huh…?” “And, I wanted to give you some fair warning before we arrive at the airport.” “Ai-airport?” Slightly, she stammered, taken aback by the sudden news. “Wh...what do you mean?” “Well, we just talked about how your dad and I haven’t seen your new place, and you don’t visit very often. That’s why we’re coming to see you! Fair compromise, right?” “M-mom, you can’t just show up out of the blue!” Her relaxed tone quickly devolved into a small panic. “I need time to prepare, get you a hotel, plan out your stay-” “But you have a guest room, don’t you?” Her mom quickly interjected. “I don’t see why your father and I can’t use that. A hotel wouldn’t be an issue, if you really don’t want us staying in your home, though...” The hurt from rejection was obvious, and whether it was a clever tactic of her mom’s or not, Joyce wasn’t intending to be rude. “No...it’s not that. You can stay if you want to. I didn’t mean to turn you away.” “Perfect!” She bounced back from sadness to joy like the flick of a switch. How manipulative her mom could be at times… “And as for plans, don’t worry! We’ll figure it out as we go.” “How long do you plan to be staying?” A sinking feeling washed Joyce all over. She tried to feel like she had some control in the conversation, but it was obvious who was setting the pace. “Only a few days. Three, at most? Your dad needs to be back for a cooking thing with his buddies. Like I said, you know how he can be...” “That’s good though,” Joyce countered. “You know,” She clearly directed her words at someone in specific. “Still being invested in your own hobbies, friends, and interests. Not dropping in on your kids unannounced and giving them time to plan in advance?” Her annoyance was mild, but she knew her mom wouldn’t be affected by it. It was all in good fun. For the most part. She loved her mom very much, but if she couldn’t be a thorn in her side sometimes… “And to think, that Emily was really starting to have a positive effect on you...Maybe if you wake her up it’ll put you back into a good mood?” She snickered on the other line. “Anyways,” Joyce ushered things along, not appreciating the teasing. “When are you guys going to be coming? A week? Two? Just let me know when so I can have my driver pick you up.” “About that,” As she started, Joyce lifted the fork, unintentionally bringing it to Emily incredibly slow; an unintended consequence from her attention being divided. “The plane is scheduled to land at some time around noon.” “Okay? Noon is fine. Noon, when?” “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?!” Joyce suddenly exclaimed, losing control of her secondary task, looking over to Emily who let out a small meep. Her sudden shock had caused her to clearly miss the mark, when a large splotch of syrup covered Emily’s cheek was evident, and the dented pancake was still on the fork. All she could do for the poor Emily was mouth an apology while she addressed the other pressing issue. Her surprise had also affected Emily too, who was slowly piecing together from Joyce’s words what was going on… “You’re kidding, right?” “I told your dad we should have done it after his cooking thing, but he can never resist a good deal on airline tickets…Isn’t this better for you, anyway? That way we can only be in your hair for so long~!” “Mom! One day is barely enough time to prepare!” Joyce’s heart started to race, thinking of the countless, incriminating things laid about the apartment. The nursery, the high chair, the bottles, bibs, pacifiers, toys; Joyce eyed Emily’s wet diaper. Too much evidence… “And what time did you say you’d be landing?” She tried to stay optimistic and maintain a calm thought process. “12:45, to be exact. Like every airport though you can never really trust those times. Just have someone ready for 1:00. We don’t mind meandering if need be. And don’t worry about cleaning up the place, if that’s the issue. We’re not hard to please!” If only she’d known how wrong she could be…Disappointingly, Joyce mentally summarized the list of things she’d now need to put into hiding again. It’s not that she didn’t want her parents to visit, but this truly was the worst timing possible...Despite that, it could have been worse, but only by a slight margin...On a tangent, she tried to amend her misdeed with Emily by feeding her the last strawberry. “See you sometime then,” Joyce kept her tone level, although being so dejected; caught in a crossroads between her feelings. “Love you.” “See you soon!” Her mom was the first to hang up. Finishing the vocal gymnastics, Joyce let out a sigh as she set the phone down, quietly looking at Emily. “Are they coming to visit?” Blankly, Emily asked, as it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher the conversation by then. “Yes, and in a very unannounced fashion, too!” “So...so what are we gonna do?” Completely? Joyce wasn’t sure. Without a doubt, everything related to the nursery needed to go there, and the door needed to stay locked. If her parents were going to be staying over, she’d need to give them the room Emily was staying in...Could Emily stay in the nursery in the meantime? Fat chance. Watching Emily innocently sit there, covered in her breakfast, wearing a bib, she knew that’d be an unrealistic demand. As fun of a fantasy it was to entertain, she had yet to even take her first nap in the crib. Something like that was too unfair, and shouldn’t occur out of forced circumstances. However, after shooting down that idea, from its ashes a much more plausible one was born... Seeing as her plate was pretty much polished, Joyce ruffled the hair on Emily’s head. “You, only need to worry about being happy.” Joyce turned on the faucet, wetting a dishrag. “As for me? I’ll figure it out.” She smiled, draping her hand in the wet cloth, coming closer to Emily. “Such a sticky baby...” Hey everyone, as always I want to thank you for reading, sharing your thoughts, and commenting! I can't appreciate the support enough and am being serious when I say it motivates me. Please don't skip out on your constructive criticisms as well, because on top of the nice words I also take general feedback into account too. On both ends of the spectrum, it tells me what I'm doing right, and possibly doing wrong. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Thanks for the feedback! I'll be able to give a better explanation of what this was down below. And yeah, possibly a warning will be called for. I'm glad to hear I'm headed in the right direction! Definitely, I'd say this is out of my comfort zone, or better put it's something I'm not used to writing. Variety is nice, though, and this is one of many avenues. Diaper Dimension is always fun, but I was curious in taking it down a much darker route, or it shines a light on some of the harsher corners of the universe that many stories can allude to, but never explicitly show. There are many examples that do, do that though, but this is my own interpretation/take on it. Thanks for giving me input! I added a little more to the prologue or the scenario above. It's nothing you can really interpret from what I posted alone, but although the setting the scene is in is very relevant, who the characters are in the moment are only important for the ideas they represent. They as individuals don't really carry much weight, but instead, I wanted to illustrate the tortured Little and dominating Amazon which they're the catalysts for. This opening is more abstract than anything else and is meant to set a tone and mood that will be prevalent throughout the actual story. But again, you're totally right in your questioning because there's nothing to follow up with it afterward to clarify the transition, or little significance in those specific people. It looks like the scene has no rhyme or reason right now, but it's a small example to what lengths the Amazons in this small section of the universe will go to. Without giving too much away, it's an example of what the protagonist could be getting themselves into...

Lock and Key “You know, Sally,” The Amazon let out a deep sigh, as the latex stretched and squeaked in order to accommodate the hand inserting itself into it. “I really did like you, honestly. I hope you know this hurts me more than it does you.” Her fingers traced the metal edge of the table, and she leaned in close, blowing a short, cool rush of air onto the Little’s face. Rapidly, like mice trapped in a cage, her pupils darted in all different ends of her eyes, and the overhanging light teased her sensitive sockets. She tried to thrash, shake, tumble, and roll, but the thick, leather restraints wrapped around her wrists, ankles, and head kept her from moving an inch. The chilled metal was pressed to the skin on her back, and her bare breasts were on full display. All of her surroundings were shrouded in darkness, apart from what was above, and a small, illuminated screen in front of her fixed vision. In fast intervals her chest rose and fell, and her eyes strained as they hadn’t blinked in quite some time...The metal prongs delicately fixed between her eyelids made sure of it. “Ooohhh….!” The Amazon as she strolled around the corners of the tiled room let an almost euphoric moan escape her. “Sally, try to stay calm for me, please?” Her sadistic pleas came as an almost panicked whisper. “Whenever I see you Littles struggle, writhe in pain, bask in shame….it’s just...just…!” A deranged smirk started to form, and the eye and brow visible to the Little contorted in an indescribably terrifying way. The creature that resembled a woman found its nails lightly touching the Little’s shifting stomach. “It excites me in a way...in a way I can’t even begin to describe…!” Without any warning, she secured a piece of the Little’s flesh between her fingers and gave it a tight squeeze. A scream filled the room, and between the sobs and cries a second voice spoke.“P-Please! L-l-let me go!” The Little, on the verge of losing her own sanity, couldn’t even look the Amazon directly in the eye out of physical and mental limitation. “N-nanny Fifi, I’m sorry! Please...” Somehow, her eyes managed to widen even more when she could see the silver tool the Amazon brandished. “No….no….no…! No, NO, NO!” With each cry and plea, the tormentor inched closer and closer with her tool. Along the way, the Amazon’s expression seemed to keep twisting, morphing, and shifting from calm and cool to maddened and manic. “PLEASE, I’LL BE GOOD! DON’T! NO! PLEASE!” In seconds what was left of the Little’s mental strength deteriorated at a rapid pace, as she could feel the blade press to her cheek. Everything was blurred, and the most primitive reactions were running rampant, and she stood on the doorstep of potentially death itself. Coherent thoughts had abandoned her, and she devolved into a blubbering mess, every fiber of her being trying to turn away, but outside forces prevented so. Nothing mattered more than avoiding injury itself, as the Amazon above her cackled and laughed, and a warm, uninvited sensation pooled beneath her, and soaked into the one article of clothing she wore. As soon as it came, the metallic blade left her cheek, only after it’d left a faint mark. “Sally…!” The Amazon’s face was of pure ecstasy and pleasure, as she watched what was once a person fall apart into a scrambled mess. Setting the scalpel aside, the Amazon got close again, pressing her hand against the crotch of the victim’s now-swollen diaper. “You’re just so cute when you squirm! When you can’t even keep your pants dry when you’re scared...There’s just so much raw emotion in you that I want to coax out of you!” The enthusiasm wasn’t shared, as the Little with tear-stained cheeks was quietly murmuring, staring off into nothingness. “Oh poo...” She pouted, giving the crotch of the wet diaper one last squeeze. “You remind me of your sister.” Past memories briefly streamed through her head. “Feeling all proud and big, but as soon as they face some backlash they’re like puddy...What was her name? Amy?” She scoffed, then regained her relaxed composure; a shroud to the true madness she harbored within. “I think her name was Hannah after the conditioning...” A cheshire grin came back just as fast though. “And oh...did she break!” A look of deceptive concern overcame her. “You’re different though, Sally, right? Please tell me you’ll last a little longer? I don’t get to do this as often as I’d like...” She collected a handful of cotton, circular pads from a nearby tray, and connected to them were wires. “I heard happy thoughts can help you stay aware...Maybe your sister was thinking of you when I had my fun with her?” The Little’s crying hadn’t become any more focused, but something the Amazon was saying made her cry harder. “All the other nannies like to use hypnosis for these sorts of thing,” Explaining, she made sure the pads were fixed to various points on her legs. “But where’s the fun in that?” She slowly cranked a nearby dial. “Discipline is most effective when you know there’s no coming back...and all you can focus on is holding on to what you have left. Punishments need to be permanent reminders. You remember Mandy, right? She used one of the cribs in your room? You’d be surprised what permanently killing someone’s sphincter muscles can do...Apart from making them a stinky baby, it makes them try everything they can to protect their bladder, too...Knowing that your only options are to maintain what you have, or fall even further...” A small click could be heard, and then a shrill, beeping noise slowly grew in volume and pace, until it became a piercing, pinging noise, and a small shock could be heard from the Little’s legs, inviting a new wave of inconsolable screams, and her legs jerked in their restraints for the slightest moment, then laid limp. The Amazon the whole time watched with fascination, and disappointment as it was over faster than it took to start. “Probably the cutest part though was thinking by keeping her bladder control it actually meant something!” Her sadistic punchline didn’t mean much to the screams she was currently ignoring. “It’ll only take a few months until she’ll start to lose control of it naturally...But, I think being unable to walk was something you could have prevented...” Instinctively, as the Little couldn’t scream much longer, she tried to wiggle her toes, move her legs at all, and all that came was a faint response. Her voice drowned in tears and deranged screams. “I guess it wasn’t as clean of a job as I thought...” The Amazon mentally logged her observation, tapping her finger on one of the Little’s knees, resulting in almost no reflex response. She removed the shock pads, returning to her table of tools. “It gets the point across, though. We have some very nice walkers, though! I know you liked using the baby bouncer though...It helps if you can push yourself off the ground, though. Guess we’ll need to find you a new activity...” Returning to the Little, she planted a wet kiss on the small cut on her cheek, placing a smiling bandaid on it. “There! Nanny Fifi made the boo boos go all away! Now what do we say?” She raised her brow, as if her small deed had undone the mutilation she’d just committed. “T-t-t-th….than….” Her voice stuttered a teetered on insanity. How she hadn’t passed out yet was cruelty she couldn’t even begin to fathom, and her body’s insistence to hang on by the few threads it already was felt like inexplicable betrayal. “....y-you….” “You’re welcome, sweetheart!” Her voice was sunshine and syrup. “See how nice it is when we use our manners and do as we’re told?” “Y...y...” The Little was taking exasperated breaths. “...es….” “I really did plan on breaking you, you know...” Her matter-of-fact words shattered the forced glee the Little was trying to plaster on her grimacing, disheveled face. “But maybe this really is enough to curb you…? I doubt you’ll be able to escape now, anyway...Tell me, why’d you do it? Try to run away? After everything the orphanage has done for you?” The way she eyed the broken soul looked as if she were trying to discern the answer from looks alone. “We give you a home, a comfy crib to sleep in, three meals a day, toys to play with,” She gave her squishy, discolored crotch another squeeze. “We even take care of the most simple responsibilities! All we ask for in return,” An inch separated their noses, and with each word, the Amazon’s breath grazed her skin. “Is:” “You do, as, you’re, told~!” Rearing back, she let out another sigh, as if this conversation had been repeated many a time over and over. “And yet, here we are. Another Little getting a bit too uppity. Too big for their britches--Diapers, sorry about that.” Her added comment made the girl’s face grimace, which only triggered further visual pleasure on the Amazon’s face. “I know you’ve been here for about a month, that’s what your records say, at least. But if you were curious,” As if she was being devious, the Amazon watching the Little’s gaze, held her white, frilled apron to the side, while her other hand found the small zipper to her ankle-length skirt, and suspensefully pulled it down, and the cloth sewn together by it slowly parted way, and soon revealed her bare thigh, and hinted at the obvious set of underwear she wore underneath. Still with a firm hold on it, she lowered it slightly, heightening the Little’s despair as she gave her a view of the much more adult panties she adorned. Tantalizingly so, she even swayed her hips the slightest bit; her non-diapered crotch following every which way. “I know we’re not supposed to give you tykes any ideas, you know,” Biting her lower lip, she hooked a finger around the waistband of her panties, then let go to result in a small slapping noise. “Reminding you of what grownup underwear looks like,” The Little tried to grit her teeth, as she whimpered seeing what looked like a long lost friend. “But the occasional reminder to how many pegs you’ve fallen is always a fun reaction to see.” The look on the Little’s face seemed to have satisfied her, as she zipped her skirt back up. “I bet you wish you still had some of those, don’tcha?” A suggestive finger seemed to find its way around the tip of the Little’s breast, and as soon as the Little’s breathing showed even the slightest signs of changing it peeled away. “Sorry, sometimes I get a little ahead of myself!” She slightly covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m only supposed to tweat you wike a baby! You just don’t know what it’s like to tease someone smaller than you...” As if she were being playful, the Amazon then danced her nails on the bottom of the Little’s feet, which gave no sign of life. “Oopsies! I forgot about that.” She started to laugh, which only escalated her sobs. “As per the rules, though, we still have to go through the formalities. How lucky you got me, though! Being a permanent crawler was just a little gift from me,” She beamed as if the pride was called for. “We haven’t even started with the real stuff, yet!” “Y-you….you bitch...” In a small, broken smile, the Little stared back at the Amazon, who turned her ear closer. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” “I said...you fucking BITCH!” The Little screamed as loud as she could, hoping in some way to get her revenge by entertaining the fantasy of shattering one of her eardrums, but it wasn’t likely. Watching the Amazon recoil in slight surprise was enough to put the Little in her own form of twisted giggles. “H-h-how do you like that? Huh? You, stupid, fucking-” A large hand collided with the side of her bandaged cheek, with such force that it caused one end of the bandage to leave her face. Involuntarily the Little winced, and new tears were running down her eyes. The sudden shock of pain felt like she’d been punched twice over in the gut, only it was her face. Before she had time to collect herself, a fat, silicone teat invaded her mouth. The Amazon’s finger pressed down on the shield of the pacifier, and with each pump the teat inside grew larger and larger, to the point where it slightly stretched the Little’s jaw and she could only let out a muffled scream. “We use our outdoor voices outside,” The Amazon looked visibly pissed, as she hissed her words and gave her ear a slight rub. “I suppose we’ll take your vocabulary down a few pegs as well...Don’t worry though, I’ll be sure to leave you with the essentials.” She grabbed a pair of Little-sized headphones, and eased them over the Little’s head and ears; much more delicacy then when she’d slapped her. “Shhh….shhh...There, there, now you’re gonna watch some cartoons! Say bye bye to bad words! Yes, then you’ll only know how to be a polite, potty pants! No reason why we shouldn’t weaken your bladder and bowels either...I’ll keep them strong enough just so you know when you need to go, however. Every time you go pee, or poo, you’ll feel the need to go, but you’ll be powerless to do anything about it! And I heard we can make real pacifier addicts out of you Littles nowadays...Maybe we should give that a try, too?” The Amazon suddenly laughed, as she hit play on the nearby remote, and the monitor screen pointed toward the Little started to play a seemingly harmless cartoon. “I know you couldn’t hear any of what I just said since those are noise canceling, but I think you’ll find out soon enough. I’ll be back in an hour!” Suddenly, a thickly sick mud started to ooze from the pacifier’s teat, and the Little could do nothing to stop it as it slipped down her throat. She opened a door behind the Little’s vision, and hidden in the dark. “Try not to leak, if you can!” Gently the door closed, and back on the angled table, the Little tried her best to scream and maintain her focus, but it was quickly becoming clouded by the noises invading her ears, and the cartoons occupying her vision. The anger, rage, sadness, and despair were drowning in something unknown, and certain words started to resonate in her head, reverberating with the bright colors and images as her brain was slowly rewired. “Now then...” Alone in the hallway, the Amazon set a timer on her phone, and then swiped it over to some log of sorts. “Looks like little Bella’s scheduled for her afternoon enema...Maybe I should up the dosage on her bladder formula?” As if it were an excellent idea, with a stylus she scribbled a note onto her screen. Slipping it back into the pocket of her apron, the nanny, of countless dozens, made a brisk pace down the hall, admiring the countless numbers etched into each and every door, mentally rambling off each and every name behind them. With a strangely loving smile, she took a deep breath and then let out a calm exhale once she rounded the corner. She looked down at her right breast, tilting the pinned badge to her uniform to fix its orientation, admiring her title in curvy print, decorated with a rattle and teddy bear. Engraved on top of it like all the other staff tags read ‘ANGELA’S ORPHANAGE: HOME FOR THE LITTLES.’ The print was tiny, but the brick-lined display from outside did the name more than justice. Her eyes looked back up to one of the daycare entrances, her heart racing to see what was beyond. “Like a kid in a candy store...” Sup! Different than usual, right? Depending on how this is received, it's probably best to consider this as an opener for something bigger...I feel like it's standalone enough should that not pan out though? I'll probably move forward with it, but I think it's going to be a bit crueler than anything else I've written, or it's at least what I want to try for. Not sure if there'll be a happy ending? Bittersweet at best? Who knows. I know this posting is pretty short, but I was hoping for a bit of a darker tone and that's what I'm trying to feel out. There's always room for improvement, and the revisions for this were small, so please give me input!

Thanks for reading, and I'm happy to hear the kind words! You scared me for a second ? I think you might have missed that chapter. I think you're talking about 10? It's at the bottom of page one.