BabyAnna

"It's a leg pillow." I looked at him in confusion. "A leg pillow?" I asked, "How does that work then?" "Well, you put it between your thighs when you go to sleep on your side," he told me, "I thought it might help you sleep better." I raised my eyebrows at him but swiftly followed with a smile. His intent was good, it looked a good quality product, he'd clearly thought about it and hell, it might even work. "Thank you!" I thanked him another way too, a leisurely afternoon that eventually involved the bed. Certainly didn't involve sleep. After dinner we stayed up too late, cool evening air enticing us into a little more wine than we'd planned, some chat but mainly me with a book, him playing something silent on his laptop. I finished the book, realised how tired I was and looked over to him. "Sooo tired! Going to bed now." He looked back, nodded, returned his gaze to the computer. "I'll just finish this off then I can join you." Returning to the bedroom after brushing my teeth he was there, getting himself ready too. I crawled into bed then sat up again. "Oh! I forgot the leg pillow!" "Stay there," he told me, "I'll go and fetch it." He was soon back, the pillow in his hands. It was almost a love heart shape, curving in at the top and tapering as it got nearer the knees. The sides were concave too, clearly designed to help it stay in position between the thighs. I reached out for it but he shook his head. "Lie back, I'll help you position it tonight." I gave him a short 'I am capable you know' glare and got a 'being nice to you, just enjoy it' pout in response so lay back, rolled onto my side, adjusted my normal pillow into the right position and looked up at him as I raised the leg that was now on top. "Ready!" I told him brightly, and laughed at the look on his face. He misinterpreted my forced enthusiasm, tickled the inside of my thigh, his hand straying higher than I was in the mood for. "Just the pillow please," I told him, "I'm too tired." A soft caress as he withdrew his hand, then the pillow was put onto my lower leg, pushed up as high as it would go, and he told me to lower my leg. He guided it down with one hand, the other holding the pillow in position, but his eyes were watching me, a soft smile showing he was happy to be looking after me. It was one reason I was with him; sometimes you want to be cared for, let someone else take the initiative. It also meant that he saw the surprise on my face, a range of mixed emotions that made him laugh. "Is that comfortable?" he asked, both of us knowing that wasn't the question he was asking. I answered it anyway. "Yes," I told him, "A lot comfier than I expected. But.." My voice trailed off but he was patient, just cocked an eyebrow to show he was interested. "It feels like I have a big fluffy diaper between my legs," I told him, starting to blush. He went wide-eyed at that. "Not what I expected," he admitted, "but.." His time to hesitate. I can't cock one eyebrow so raised both, an invitation to continue. He continued. "How do you know? Have you worn a big fluffy diaper recently? I can't remember them as an infant." "I can't either," I said, avoiding his question. My blush probably answered it for him anyway. I deflected in desperation. "But it feels how I imagine one would." His look showed that he didn't entirely believe me, but he just asked, "So is it comfortable? Think you can sleep like that?" I nodded at him. "It's a bit weird," I said, "but also, I don't know. Oddly comforting." Turns out it was comfortable and did help me sleep. I remembered him pulling the covers over me, but not him brushing his teeth, climbing into bed with me, getting himself settled, falling asleep. I knew he'd done that because I heard him snoring when I woke up. It wasn't why I'd woken up. The flaw in his gift, a fundamental issue with its basic design and intent, was that I didn't just sleep on my side. I move around in my sleep and I'd rolled onto my back, filling the gap between us, my arm now caught in-between. That wasn't why I'd woken up either. The leg pillow was soft and pliable, except from front to back, where it retained some rigidity to help it hold position while you slept on your side. That meant it didn't give when I rolled over, instead becoming a fin sticking out from behind me, an uncomfortable lump I was now lying on. "Ow!" I said, waking him up. Even as that happened and I worked out the cause of my discomfort the pillow moved, my body's instinctive pain avoidance making me shift in a way that made it pop up from between my thighs. A groggy, "Uhh. What?" distracted me and I turned my head to look at him. "I rolled onto the pillow," I said, "It didn't like that." "Oh." He lay on his back a moment, thinking about it. "I hadn't thought of that. I'm sorry, are you ok?" I rolled towards him, my far arm coming over in a cuddle, my legs intentionally crossing over and entangling his. "I'm fine," I told him, "neither of us thought of that." He still had an odd expression on his face. His mouth stretched towards me for a quick kiss then he sat up, pulling the covers down. my arm falling back towards me. I started to roll away from him, back onto my back, but he caught me, motioned for me to stay still as he leaned over. As I looked at him in confusion he looked back at me, a serious expression. My brow creased, an unspoken question. "Looks like someone's wet the bed," he said, bluntly. "Come on, get out my side so that you don't have to roll back into it." Well, no prizes for guessing who he felt was responsible. We both got up and looked at the damage. The sheet was wet, the mattress below it would need cleaning and drying, and the leg pillow was completely soaked. "I.." I faltered, looking at the mess. He hugged me. "It's ok, you were asleep. Can't blame you for stuff that happens when you're asleep. I guess it worked, you were so comfortable even a full bladder didn't wake you up." "It was a good sleep," I agreed, "but that's not.. I guess my body thought it really was a big fluffy diaper." We both showered, squeezed into the bed in the spare room, left the laundry and the rest of the clean up for morning. I did that. It seemed fair, I'd caused it and even though it wasn't intended it still didn't feel fair to make him deal with the stale smell. Another night in the spare room, the unfamiliar bed giving me a very bad night's sleep. Fed up with my tossing and turning he'd asked, "Should I get the leg pillow? It'll get you to sleep at least." I didn't respond well to that. "What, and piss the bed again?" I retorted, "Plus I only sleep well until I roll over. It was a lovely thought but I don't think it's going to be the answer." He got a hug to let him know I appreciated his efforts, but neither of us slept well. The next day we both kept ourselves busy but apart. This wasn't planned or discussed, we just instinctively avoid too much interaction when we're tired and grumpy. So I didn't even know he'd gone shopping until bedtime. I emerged naked from the shower, dry and smelling clean, and saw him stood there, hands behind his back, a goofy look on his face. That got him an exasperated glare. He's good at being strong and manly, terrible at being cute and winsome. "What?" I asked, a parental patience in my voice. "I got you a new gift," he said, "Come and sit on the bed." I sat down and looked up at him. We were back in the main bedroom, the mattress properly aired, clean sheets and matching pillow cases. "This one isn't going to make me wet the bed is it?" I asked, injecting some levity to make him feel more appreciated. It was his turn to blush. "Umm, maybe?" he said, then before I could respond, "But it doesn't matter." He reached down below the bed, pulled out a cardboard box, opened it. I could see two plastic packs in there, one of them open, and he was pulling out of it an extremely large disposable diaper. "You sleep better with something thick and fluffy between your legs," he said, "but it needs to stay there and still be comfortable if you roll onto your back." I stared at him in shock. "But.. a diaper?" He nodded, and smiled, gentle but firm. "That's why it's so perfect. Comfortable padding, but also explicitly designed to handle any nocturnal leakage." I winced at that description, but couldn't argue. I didn't want to argue either, couldn't tell him that. I reached up, feigned reluctant compliance. "Come on then, I'll give it a go." He drew it out of my reach and shook his head. "Oh no. These need fitting properly. Now lie back and I'll make sure you're snug and secure." I liked the sound of that, couldn't help trying to escalate a little. "If you put me in a diaper, you have to change it." He smiled at that. "Deal," he said. Did he mean change, or remove? I wasn't sure, didn't ask. I found out the next morning when he woke me, the soft fluffy padding giving me my best sleep for months. "Come on sleepyhead," he said, "Need to get you out of that diaper before you get a rash."

Chapter 9 "Day Four," reiterated Miriam, "is when things get real. This is the day that mental fortitude is needed. The babies experience internal conflict, they're bored of being treated as babies and experience a sense of rejection, a desire to return to their adult lives." "We don't worry about that," she said, "they're still committed to the process, force themselves through their own uncertainty. We just need to support them in this, give them subtle encouragement." Julie thought back to how that day had started. She had slept well, albeit with what was becoming a customary break in the early hours, the evening's drinks forcing her awake as her body demanded relief. Helping change the others had assured her that this was something they had all endured, Jane and Ellie no drier than she was, a lovely confirmation of Miriam's reassurance just before they'd changed for the night. Alice and Daphne had taken the other two through to the changing room, the excuse a poor joke that Julie and Sandy wouldn't be able to help get them ready for bed, as they were a little tied up right now. After they'd left Miriam had walked over to Sandy and freed her hands, telling her, "See if you can remove that pacifier," before glancing across to Julie and adding, "You can both stand when you're ready too." As both girls released themselves Miriam had continued speaking. "Alice will be telling the girls that they did well tonight, but that you're still their colleagues, and we expect them to treat you with respect," she informed them, "You've both done well too. I know this has been a very difficult evening for you but you've participated in good spirit and it's helped the whole group gain some valuable experience that I can assure you will be needed in the weeks ahead. "Take a moment to stretch your legs and then I'll take you through and we'll get you ready for bed. The other two will already be in their cribs; we want to remind them they're not adults yet." True to her word, the next time Sandy and Julie saw their colleagues they were already closed in their cribs, locked in the same footed sleepers as the previous nights, no pretence of control possible. That message of equality was repeated the next morning. They were being dressed for the day, thick grey cable knit tights covering their diapers, a short corduroy skirt and a knitted cardigan, fuzzy wool in a bright colour, each girl's different, covering the inevitable diaper shirt. As they stood and admired each other Alice spoke to them all, "Remember, last night was a one-off. You're all back on even terms now, and don't expect us to play favourites." Julie welcomed the repeated message, reassured by it, but then caught Ellie looking at her, a quick smile making it clear that where the two of them were concerned any equality was at best tenuous. She quickly looked away, unwilling to find out for sure. After breakfast they'd expected more lectures so it was a surprise when Alice had handed them over to Daphne. She'd taken them to a new part of the house, stone floors and dirty windows, and invited them to try on Wellington boots. Julie found a pair that almost matched her jumper, a royal blue in rubber reaching almost to her knees. "You've been stuck indoors for days," explained Daphne, "so this morning you get a break from the training. This estate has some lovely grounds so we'll all go out for a walk, and if you promise to behave we wont make you wear reins." "Reins?" asked Julie in confusion. Ellie turned to face her wearing a wide wicked grin as she held up some straps that Julie realised were part of a chest harness, something you'd use to control an unruly toddler and stop it wandering off. Julie went pale, worried she'd be put in the device, unsure she could resist if Ellie insisted. "No Ellie," said Daphne, "I think Julie's going to behave for us today." Julie nodded in agreement and promised, "Yes. Please, don't make me wear that." Ellie cocked an eye at her, causing Julie to change tone and beg directly to her, "Please?" With a gentle smile Ellie turned and put down the strapping, then perked her head up and moved into a side room Julie hadn't explored. She returned pushing an oversized stroller, clearly able to seat an adult but following a classic stroller design, restraining bar, five point harness and a hood. She tilted her head and looked at Julie quizzically, an invitation Julie didn't want to accept. Daphne laughed but also chastised Ellie. "Stop teasing the poor girl," she said, "or maybe we should put you in there?" Ellie sniffed contemptuously at the idea, making sure not to look at Daphne as she did so, avoiding the personal challenge. She wheeled the chair back into the side room and rejoined the group looking unashamed with her antics, finding Julie arm in arm with Sandy as they left the house through a large door. They crunched their way down a gravel path, wellies unnecessary in the warm autumn day, the ground dry and weak sunlight filtering through the canopies of trees lining their way. Julie hadn't seen much of the grounds as she'd arrived, the main drive passing through short cut pastures, the odd tree sheltering sheep and cattle as they grazed, uncaring of the passing taxi that had dropped her at the door. Now they were at the rear of the house and she found herself enchanted by the extensive gardens, their formal design supported with obvious care, neat borders and pruned hedges interspersed with stone statues and small decorative ponds. "Oh, this is lovely," said Jane, "come here Ellie, look at these flowers." They left the main group, admiring a crocus bed, large dahlias flowering behind, a symphony of colour. Alice had joined them and stood speaking with Daphne, watching the two girls, content to let them wander. This left Julie and Sandy in relative peace, and Sandy took the opportunity to share some misgivings. "Oh Julie," she said, "I'm worried." Julie looked at her in concern, took a hand and walked through the garden with her. "Are you OK?" she asked, cursing the stupidity of the question even as she spoke. Sandy didn't seem to notice. "I don't think this is right," said Sandy, "I mean, the whole process." Julie tried to reassure her, as she had the day before. "We had this chat yesterday," she reminded Sandy, "I agree, it's really weird. But it's only for a week." "No," said Sandy, "That's what I mean. I don't think it's going to end. Last night, they.. I.." She stopped walking, turned and faced Julie and took her other hand. "I don't think we'll be allowed to become adults again," she said fearfully. Julie laughed, caught herself, forced an expression of sympathy and understanding. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh," she said, "it's just that.." She thought quickly, admitting to herself that at times the previous night she'd been a bit unsure herself. This wasn't the time to share that with Sandy. "We're back on an equal footing with the other two," she said, "Miriam told us last night and Alice said it again this morning." Sandy nodded, but still looked unconvinced. "But.. they turn adults into babies," she said, "and we're making it easy for them." "This wont help," said Julie, intending it to help, "but you're being paranoid." She offered some evidence, "They can't just kidnap us, turn us into babies, sell us to some rich foreigner. People would notice, your family would miss you." "I haven't got a family," said Sandy, "but I guess they don't know that." Julie was shocked, and pulled Sandy close, giving her a hug, "Oh Sandy, I'm sorry." she said, "but you do have friends." She decided to concentrate on Sandy's immediate concern. "Daphne's quite new, she must have been through this process." Julie had forgotten to ask when she had the chance but made a mental note to follow up with her. "Anyway," she continued, "they wouldn't tell babies so much about the business. Think about all the things they've shared with us, none of that makes sense unless we're going to work with them. This is just a week long induction, and we'll have to go to work in a boring business suit next week." Sandy drew clear of the embrace and looked at her friend. "You're right," she said, "I'm just being silly." She brightened up a bit, letting Julie's reassurance clear her concerns, wanting to believe what she'd just heard. "Anyway," she said, then in her more normal loud happy voice, "It's such a gorgeous day!" She skipped away from Julie, leaving the formal garden and heading up a grass slope behind. Julie laughed, saw the others also chuckling at the now happy girl. In a way, she thought, it was almost a shame. Sandy did seem to be very good at being a toddler. As a group they left the garden, following the merrily skipping girl. As she reached the crest of the hillock Sandy turned, her face filled with delight, the sun behind her lighting her red hair aflame. She opened her mouth to tell them something but was interrupted by a surprised Jane, "Oh! You look beautiful!" Sandy's words didn't reach her lips but her mouth stayed wide as a deep blush on her cheeks tried to match the glow of her hair. She recovered and deflected the praise, "Oh. No," she said sadly, "I have freckles." She brightened a little, "But thank you. And come and look!" Ellie and Julie shared a quick look. Sandy must be a late bloomer, entirely unaware how she could now outshine other women, command the attention of every man in the room with just a simple smile. Clearly they'd have to take her out after the induction was over, find some male company with which to demonstrate this. For the moment Ellie and Julie walked up to join Sandy and saw the source of her excitement. In front of them stretched a reed lined pond, fed by a stream at one end, overflowing a small dam at the other. Geese and ducks were already swimming over to greet them, a cacophony of excited honks and quacks, expectations apparent. "Oh, if only we had some bread," said Julie then turned at a tap on her shoulder. Alice stood there, her big smile at Julie's words explained as she invited Julie to look into the bag she held. "We do have bread!" exclaimed Julie, taking two slices from the bag and, breaking them into small pieces, throwing them to the eager birds. All six women stood there for a while, happily feeding the birds, an ageless activity they could all enjoy. Half an hour later they had found a stone gazebo, the main house looking small in the distance and, on the other side, a view over a valley, green grass and yellow trees, a muddy river by a grey road winding into the distance. Alice and Daphne made excuses, left the girls there. "We'll trust you not to wander and get lost," said Alice, "and please come back in time for lunch." The other three had sat on the grass, enjoying the warm sunshine but Julie sat on a bench in the small structure, a chance to think through things. She was glad she'd been able to reassure Sandy, but also looked forward to the induction week reaching its end. It wasn't even whether she was enjoying it, Julie just knew she didn't want to use her diaper, was already starting to feel uncomfortable but holding back, keen to avoid walking back to the house needing a change. Despite that she felt strangely embarrassed by her reluctance, worried that she wasn't conforming to the spirit of the induction, embracing the chance to learn how the adults her new employer turned into babies really felt. It didn't occur to Julie to discuss this with the others, find out that they had similar feelings of guilt and uncertainty. Instead it was only hearing Miriam's words the next day that finally helped her realise that she'd been experiencing precisely the feelings and fears that the company's babies would. However, at the time her mind had turned to other matters. Julie recalled how Ellie made her feel, the loving care, decided she needed to learn from that, understand how to give the babies she looked after that same comfort. She allowed herself the luxury of thinking about that, what she could change, what she should look out for; even if she couldn't match Ellie's instinctive response she could look to mimic it, still play that motherly role. Eventually Julie joined the others, idle chatter and lazily bathing in the warmth of the sun. With no way to tell the time Julie wasn't sure how long they'd been sat there but after a while it seemed time to head back and get some lunch. "Can we head back?" she asked, "it's lunchtime." Ellie and Jane shared an amused glance, confusing Julie. "Yes, we can," said Jane, "Come on Sandy, lets go and get you fed." Sandy said nothing in reply to that, but as she shot daggers at Jane she nonetheless stood and brushed leaves off her clothes, ready for the walk back to the main house. That walk took only a few minutes, a more direct route than their meander to the viewpoint, and they arrived back early for lunch, Alice thanking them for not being late. She gave all four girls a quick diaper check, found they were all dry and clean, and frowned at them without comment. Julie found herself blushing in response, then blushing deeper, embarrassed at being ashamed for not wetting herself. After eating they were met by Miriam, who gave them a stern warning. "You did so well yesterday," she said, "but you're holding back today." "We have a treatment that assures incontinence in our babies, avoids this problem," she told them, "be glad we don't want incontinent staff members." Miriam then looked at Julie, who shrank back a little at the attention. "Julie. You're clenching," she said, brow furrowed, her expression that of a teacher sharing an uncomfortable truth. Demeaning as Julie found that, she couldn't deny that Miriam was right. She hadn't even realised her body was enforcing the years of toilet training, straining to avoid what just three days before had been unthinkable. Miriam looked around the room and spoke again, "I'm going to take you all to the dormitory, you can enjoy a nice post-lunch nap and when we come to collect you I expect to need to change four diapers." The modesty screens were back up in the dormitory, a visible reminder of their last daytime sojourn there and, in turn, what they had done at that time. This time though Miriam did ask the girls to climb into their cribs and closed the sides after them. "All snug," she said, "Now I'll close the curtains so that you can have a snooze. But before you do, I suggest let your bodies relax and allow nature to take its course." Julie heard the curtains being drawn, the room not going completely dark but losing its glare. As she heard Miriam walk away, another fading clack of heels on wood, she decided she'd better following Miriam's advice and stop trying to deny her body. Arching her back Julie found her muscles contracting in an unhelpful way, the stress position preventing her relaxing. She sighed, rolled onto her side, found the stuffed sheep toy she'd been sleeping with and looked at it. "How do I do this?" she asked it quietly, then found her answer, her body welcoming the relaxed position she'd unconsciously adopted. As with the day before, Julie found herself pushing hard to finish, unable to bear her body's slow gentle release, hating the feel of her diaper pushing back. Her bladder also responded to her muscles' demands, adding to the heat beneath her tights and making her fear another leak. She rolled quickly onto her back and felt the warmth spread higher up her bottom, wondered if she'd flood the diaper so much it would leak at the waist. Not that she could do much about it, she reflected. Even if she managed to undo the clasp, lower the side of the crib, stand up, it would be too late, her body enjoying the chance to achieve comfort at least on the inside. Instead Julie lay there, shaking her head slightly, found her eyes closing as she relaxed, her mind calming in response to the physical repose.

"You've been demanding I let you prove you're potty trained for weeks," he said, "So this is your chance." Sure, he'd bought me a potty. It was far too small, but that wasn't the issue. He'd removed my diaper but made me stand astride the potty, my long legs either side, stood upright. If I relaxed now I'd wet in the potty, sure, but also down my thighs and all over the floor. I looked at him beseechingly. "I need to sit!" "Sit?" he exclaimed, "On a potty? With all those germs up against your skin? No, I'm not exposing you to that unhygienic nastiness." Oh, right. So he's willing to have me sit in my own mess, hot plastic trapping it against my skin, but join millions of other adults by sitting on an easily cleaned potty seat? Toilet seat! I sighed, his influence over my language was even invading my thoughts. He misinterpreted the sigh. "Go, or it's straight back into diapers." "If I go now without sitting I'll wet all over the floor," I said, "This isn't.." He cut me off. "Don't be silly," he told me sternly, "This potty is advertised as having a splash guard. If you can't use it properly without making a mess then you clearly aren't ready for it. I think I'd better just put you straight back into diapers." I admit, I panicked at that point. It had taken so long to convince him to let me even try and use a potty. I swiftly squatted, knees bent double but heels off the ground, enough to keep me from making contact with the potty. I relaxed with relief and let the hot stream go, looking down to celebrate my stolen success. He'd stolen my success from me, snatching the potty away as I crouched. Even as I tried to hold the flow I knew it was too late, a puddle on the wooden floorboards, growing around one of my feet. The outcome was worse than being kept in diapers. I now had a very sore bottom, and was also being kept in diapers. On top of that, his final words as he walked away carrying the potty I'd dreamed of using. "You're clearly not ready for this. I'll see if they'll give me a refund, it's unused after all. Such a waste of time. I'll order you some more diapers, it's going to be a while before we try this again."

"Ok, let's resume. This morning we covered the accident itself, and we stopped for lunch after discussing your arrival in hospital, the emergency surgery and the medical diagnosis. Are you ok to continue from there?" Denise nodded. "I am." Her lawyer looked at his notes then asked, "So when did you first discover the impact on your.." He paused imperceptibly, enough to show he was choosing his words tactfully, "Bathroom habits." Denise winced anyway. "An hour or two after the anaesthetic wore off," she said, "I suddenly had the sensation of needing the toilet and had to call the nurse. She came over, I explained and she went to get a bedpan. And.." Denise stopped speaking, clearly trying to fight back tears and took a sip of water from her glass. "Take your time," said the Judge, "We know this must be difficult for you." Nodding briefly in gratitude Denise put down her water and looked back at her lawyer. "It was so humiliating," she said, "I didn't know where to look." The lawyer paused sympathetically before asking, "And after that, how did the medical staff treat you?" "They were kind," said Denise, "they acted as though there was nothing out of the ordinary." "They didn't tease or taunt you about the diapers?" asked her lawyer, "Call you names or demean you in any way?" Denise shook her head. "No, they were very professional. I felt so lucky to have their support," she admitted. "So you have no complaints to about the hospital?" asked her lawyer, seeking a response that would let him place sole blame on her employer. "They did their best to help," said Denise, "I mean, they left me in this sorry state but it's not their fault." Her employer's lawyer scowled at that, a chance to shift liability receding away from her. Her own lawyer gave a supportive smile then continued the questioning. "After you left the hospital," he said, "did the issue change? Did it get better or worse?" "It didn't change," said Denise, "I've been like this since." She burst into tears, causing another break for some water, the Judge and her lawyer both showing patience while she regained control. "Feeling ready to continue?" asked her lawyer, and in response to her answering nod asked, "So this will be hard for you, I'm sorry, but could you tell us how this has impacted you? What it's done to your daily life?" Denise thought for a moment. "It's been horrid," she said, "I feel I've lost all my confidence. Instead of just living normally I'm constantly checking for the nearest bathroom and worrying when I don't know where it is. I'm wearing clothes that are quicker and easier to remove and replace, or a skirt I can just lift out of the way. Everything's changed." Her lawyer had expected this response, it had been her reply during their practice runs. He needed more though, and knew the question to ask. "Sorry to be so explicit," he apologised, "but what about your diapers." Denise shivered and looked at him. This time she didn't cry, but took a sip of water before responding anyway. "It's awful," she said, "I always worry that people will ask me about them. Ask me why I need them." "Do they?" asked her lawyer. "No," admitted Denise, "but there's that constant worry that they will. I see them looking at me, wondering. It makes me scared to talk to them, in case they do ask." The Judge intervened with a question of his own. "If that did happen, how would you respond?" Denise looked up at him in shock. "I don't know," she said, "I keep trying to think how to explain and, none of it makes sense in my head." "Sorry," said the Judge, "Thank you for answering, that will help me. Any further questions?" This last query was directed at Denise's lawyer, who shook his head. "No Your Honour," he said, "I think we've demonstrated the impacts on my client quite sufficiently to prove harm." The Judge wisely chose not to confirm or deny whether he agreed but instead gestured to the employer's lawyer. "Any questions you'd like to put to the victim?" She nodded at the Judge, stood up and approached Denise. "Please, tell me," she said, "and I hope this doesn't distress you too much. Do you know whether you need the toilet right now?" Denise nodded. "I can tell." "Do you?" asked the lawyer. Denise looked stunned at the question but answered anyway. "I do." "I'll be quick then," said the lawyer, "but please, help me understand. If we adjourn for a break in a few minutes will you be able to wait until then, and then successfully use the toilet?" Denise looked angry at that. "Yes," she said, "Of course I would." The lawyer nodded. "If we took another hour, maybe even two, would you be able to hold it that long?" Denise sighed at her. "It would hurt!" she protested. "I understand," said the lawyer, "but could you hold it?" Denise started to cry yet again. "Yes," she sobbed. The lawyer gave her some time to dry her eyes but then continued regardless. "I take it today isn't unusual for you now?" Denise shook her head. "Sorry, I need you to answer," said the lawyer. "No." whispered Denise. The lawyer stopped, stared at her and asked gently, "So the accident at work has, against your will or otherwise, through no fault of your own, removed your incontinence?" Denise looked at her, surprised to be given a chance to state it so clearly. "Yes!" she said, "That's why we're here." The lawyer shook her head in disbelief and spoke out to the Judge. "Your Honour, we submit that there is no case here to answer. Motion to dismiss as causing continence is not an actionable harm." The Judge waved down Denise's lawyer before he could even stand and object. "Motion denied," he said, "But since you seem to be finished, court will adjourn for, let's see, 20 minutes." The employer's lawyer looked confused by that. "Your Honour, we've only just returned from lunch." The Judge banged his gavel. "Yes," he said, "but my diaper needs changing." The Clerk spoke at that point, "All rise."

"Ha ha! Janet wet herself!" It was a bit childish for someone at college but Keith didn't stop to think about that. Theresa and Gerty looked across, saw the dark material on Janet's skirt, a humiliating puddle on the floor between her feet. "What a baby!" exlaimed Theresa, "Does lickle babby need a didi?" Gerty smirked, "Too late for that," she said, "stupid baby should've planned ahead." Janet sighed and looked at the three of them. She'd managed to hold it right through the lecture but had tripped as she left the room, couldn't help herself, ended up soaked and embarrassed. "Thanks guys," she said, "Accidents happen." "No," said Gerty, "Not to adults. You're just a stupid baby. Go and get a diaper on you stupid baby." Theresa nodded and added, "And don't think about joining us for lunch. We only have lunch with adults. Come on Keith." Keith followed the two girls, turning to laugh at Janet as he went. They got halfway down the corridor before hearing Janet call out. "Stop." "Aww, what's up silly baby?" taunted Keith, "Does wickle babby want help changing her didi?" Janet shook her head. "No. I want to put a curse on you all." The three of them looked at her in astonishment, looked back at each other, then burst into laughter. "If you ever use a toilet again," said Janet, "You will die." She turned on her heels and strode away, leaving the puddle on the floor behind her. "What the fuck?" asked Keith, "She is loopy!" The friends went to their next seminar, a final class before lunch. "I'm just nipping to the restroom," said Gerty after it was finished, "Wonder where baby Janet's got to, we should show her how it's done." The other two laughed, and Keith made his excuses too. "See you both in a minute." Theresa was fine so just stood and waited patiently. The other two didn't return. Over ten minutes later she was frantic with worry and strode into the Ladies restroom. Only one stall was in use, a horrible smell emanating from it. Standing on the toilet in the next stall she looked over the partition and saw Gerty slumped there, strangely shrivelled, the bowl beneath her overflowing with.. were those her insides? By the time she'd stopped screaming a crowd had gathered. Someone had found Keith, and their description matched how Theresa had found Gerty. The police ushered everybody out, where people clumped together in little groups discussing the strange events. Theresa stood alone in shock, both her best friends somehow dead, nobody she could turn to. A tap on her shoulder made her turn. She found Janet there, passing her a large bag. "Here," said Janet, "I guess you believe me now. You'll be needing these." Theresa took the back and automatically looked into it, confusion and shock preventing her asking questions. "Diapers?" she eventually asked, then paused. "Oh." Janet nodded. "Be a good little baby," she said, "and maybe, just maybe, one day I'll lift the curse. Now," she said, taking Theresa's hand, "Let's go and make sure you won't need to use that nasty toilet."

Everly looked into the room nervously. It had a lot of women in it, most of them in the same drab grey dress she wore, their only colour the Crocs on their feet. In amongst them were guards, white shirts and black trousers. "I can't go in there," she said, "they'll all.." She was cut short by the woman at the door. "Do you want a change or not? Wait as long as you like, you'll go in eventually. Next chance is in six hours." With a gulp Everly stepped into the room. She'd been in this diaper almost that long already, needed to get out of it, knew it would leak long before another six hours passed. It was bad enough being forced to wear one, humiliating to need to use it, but that just made it more important to her that she get out of it immediately. "It's just for transit," they'd said, "We can't stop on the way and some people can't hold it that long." They were right, she hadn't held it that long. On arrival her request for the bathroom had been met with contempt and a wry, "You're wearing it." Finally she'd finished processing, had been shown her cell, had spotted it lacked a toilet, didn't know where to find one. "An hour in here to settle, relax a little after the journey," she'd been told, and the door clanged shut, the ominous sound confirming she was trapped here at their mercy. She'd sat a while, the bare walls staring back at her, then made her bed. The mattress had a plastic cover which the thick rough sheet couldn't disguise, scratchy blankets on top, the pillow too small and smelling of soap. She sat on it, couldn't tell if the comfortable padding beneath her was the mattress or her sodden diaper. It had been a relief when the door was unlocked, opened. The guard stood there beckoned to Everly. "Time for a change, then it's dinner," she'd promised. Everly had stood and followed the guard, found the room full of others. As she entered it another guard instructed her, "Take one clean diaper and a handful of wipes." Clutching the clean diaper she didn't want she walked into the room and realised several of the other prisoners were moving uncomfortably, some even clearly waddling. A nasty smell permeating the room made her wrinkle her nose, made her wonder if she should be thankful her diaper was only wet. "Form a circle," called one of the guards, and Everly saw her fellow inmates start to stand in a wide circle around the guard. "Come on, shoulder to shoulder," called the guard, "you've done this before." Another guard walked up to her, spoke too quietly for Everly to hear. The first guard addressed the room, "Ah, I hear we have some new girls here today. Just get into the circle, I'll give full instructions today." Everly stood between two women, both around her age, but didn't speak. The one to her left did, asking her, "New fish?" "Yes," replied Everly, "Got here an hour ago. I'm Everly." "You're new fish tonight," said the woman, "behave, be nice to us and we'll see about tomorrow." Instinctively Everly shivered, but didn't respond. She was glad she had her own cell but her train of thought was interrupted by the guard giving new instructions. "Everybody, turn to the right." Turning Everly found herself looking at the back of the other woman she'd been stood beside. Glancing to her left she saw the whole circle of women had turned, were looking at the back of another woman. "Lift her skirt," commanded the guard. Everly hesitated, saw what everybody else was doing and copied, reaching forward and lifting the back of the woman's skirt, pulling it up to her shoulders, revealing her bare legs and.. a diaper. Everly wasn't entirely surprised, she'd already guessed that, but it was still something of a shock. She saw that the woman in front of her had lowered her arms again and peeked over her shoulder to see what she'd done with the skirt she'd been holding, saw that it had been fastened to a button on the back of each shoulder. Even as she found the buttons and button holes on the dress in front of her she felt her own skirt lifted from the rear, and attached to her own shoulders. Everly felt vulnerable, knew her diaper was on display, knew that someone else now knew she'd used it. The one she was looking at was wet too but that wasn't what drew her attention. The curious harness holding it in place had a lock in the small of the back, preventing removal. Now she knew why she'd been unable to unbuckle her own; it was locked onto her, stopping her removing the diaper. Three guards moved around the circle, reaching behind each woman they passed and doing something to the lock. She sensed one of them coming up behind her, felt the pressure on her back, heard a click as the buckle was unlocked. The guard moved to the woman in front of her, unlocked that buckle too, kept going. "Ok, two minutes to release the harness, remove the soiled diaper, wipe her clean and fit the new diaper," called the guard in the middle, "Raise your hand if you need more wipes - smells like a couple of you will need a few today." She laughed nastily. Everly reached behind herself to undo the buckle on her harness but before she could even reach it the woman behind slapped her arms away. "Don't be stupid," a loud whisper reproached, "Take off your own diaper and they'll put you in punishment ones. You won't even be able to walk, and that's before they give you a laxative. Trust me, you do not want that laxative. Change Trudy's diaper." Everly guessed Trudy was the woman in front of her, reached forward and undid the buckle. She looked across the ring of prisoners and saw them all in various stages of changing the woman in front, some reaching around to undo tabs, others wiping clean the area below. A couple must have worked fast, they were fastening the clean diaper in place or fitting the harness back on. She quickly undid Trudy's buckle, pulled the harness away and reached forward to release the diaper. Letting it fall between Trudy's legs she used the wipes she still held to rub down Trudy's skin, front and back. "Sorry," she whispered, "I'm trying to be gentle." Trudy turned her head, gave a quick laugh. "Good, but make sure you get me clean. I don't want no rash y'hear?" She turned back, finished changing the woman in front of her. Everly finished wiping Trudy clean and tried to figure out how to fit a diaper to the standing woman. She heard a voice from behind, offering guidance, "One leg tab first, get it snug around the leg. Then the other side, get that one snug too. Then it'll hold in place long enough to pull up to the waist, front and back, and get those two tabs sorted. Fit it well or it'll leak and you do not want to make Trudy leak." Everly agreed without saying anything, fed the clean diaper between Trudy's legs and fastened it in place as instructed. "Not bad," she heard from behind, "Now fit the harness." As she pulled the harness into place and closed the buckle Everly heard it click as it locked. She turned her head to look behind and spoke to the woman stood there watching her, "Thank you for the tips." She hesitated then asked, "Aren't you going to change me?" A cruel laugh was her response. "No change for new fish. No honey, you're going to find out why these changes matter. Nothing personal, you started good, Trudy will be happy with you for that, but nobody gets a change on their first night." Everly felt the buckle on her harness being released then immediately closed again, the click confirming she was stuck for at least the next six hours; she didn't expect relief then either. As the guard passed, checking her harness was locked in place, Everly decided not to complain. The guards wouldn't care, and it would make her some enemies on her very first day. Instead she followed the lead of the other girls, released Trudy's skirt to fall back into place and hide the diaper, and felt her own dress also returning her dignity. "Ok, dinner time," called the guard in the middle. As they left the room Everly felt a tap on her padded bottom. "Good girl," said Trudy, "You're doing well for a new fish. Stand by me in the morning, you'll be messy by then, will need a friend to clean you proper. You don't want no rash neither." "Thank you," said Everly, then fell silent. She stayed that way through dinner, was returned to her cell and lay on the bed, not wanting to flood her diaper. Knowing she'd have no choice. Knowing that wouldn't be the worse thing to happen by morning. The other women called out from their own cells, wagers on who would mess first. It was always a long first night for the new fish.

Chapter 8 The early afternoon had gone quickly, a lecture style transfer of information, too much detail for the new employees to absorb. Alice assured them that was intentional, that they were being introduced to concepts and terminology, so that they'd be better able to engage with the individual topics on future days. They stopped for a break, the girls no longer afraid of the drinks trolley, knowing that using their diapers would happen whether they enjoyed a coffee or not. Sandy had somehow found orange juice again, the others choosing hot drinks, Alice asking, "Shall I play mother," and pouring the tea for Daphne and Jane. Julie held her mug of coffee in both hands, letting it warm her fingers, watched the others from a distance while they mingled and chatted. She saw Sandy stiffen, bend her knees slightly and glaze over, guessed what was going on and looked away, not wanting to watch, not wanting to be seen watching. She looked back when she heard an exclamation, Sandy proving again she couldn't avoid turning surprise into an audible "Oh!" Sandy was stood upright again, now prodding at her romper, a look of distaste on her face. "I don't think I can sit down," she said, "I think I would leak." Alice motioned to Julie, who was stood nearest to Sandy. "Could you check please Julie," she asked, "and if Sandy's right then go and get her changed." Julie walked across to Sandy, stood facing her and smiled in mild embarrassment, an expression mirrored by the pretty face looking back at her. Avoiding eye contact but looking straight at Sandy, focussing on the nose of the slightly taller woman, Julie reached down and pushed her arms out to the side, a physical discouragement from interference. Julie reached down, felt a smooth leg, ran her hand around and up it, brought her second hand in too, palms now against the insides of Sandy's thighs. She pushed gently, a demand for greater access, and Sandy obliged, a gentle flush reaching her face. Julie could feel herself blushing slightly also, the moment strangely intimate even before she gently pulled at the elasticated leg of the romper and the diaper shirt beneath it. Using her other hand she wriggled her fingers underneath, found the diaper, reached into it, her fingers immediately sensing the wetness. Now she blushed outright, Sandy going even redder, finally looking down and away. "Come on," she said, stepping back a little and taking Sandy's hand, "Let's get that sorted." She turned, found that they'd had an audience, everybody in the room watching. Alice and Daphne had understanding smiles, Ellie had obviously enjoyed the spectacle and for some reason Jane was frowning, a curious expression on her face. Julie opted not to say anything, instead stepping firmly towards the door, pulling Sandy behind. "Meet us in the lounge when you're done," said Alice, "We're heading through in a moment." "I'm only wet," promised Sandy as they reached the changing room, then stopped and looked in surprise at Julie. "Oh! This is so wrong," she said, "'only wet', as though that's normal." Julie grinned at her. "I know, I was telling Daphne earlier how weird this is," she admitted. "What did she say?" asked Sandy, immediately curious. The girls chatted as Julie removed Sandy's sodden diaper, wiped her down and fitted a new clean one. Sandy seemed reassured that she wasn't alone in finding the whole situation strange, and that Julie was finding it difficult. Julie finished buttoning Sandy's romper and said something that further helped put Sandy at ease. "Since we're already in here," suggested Julie, "Perhaps you could give me a quick change too?" Sandy soon found that Julie could have easily survived without a change, but it did make sense to take advantage of the opportunity and she did enjoy babying her new friend. They walked quietly back to find the others, entering the lounge to the sight of Ellie and Jane sat opposite each other, Alice off to one side, Daphne apparently absent. Two other other chairs had been set a few feet apart, also facing, and Julie guessed she and Sandy should sit on those. "Welcome back," said Alice as the two girls sat down, "It's been a busy couple of days for you all so we have something different for you." "You'll recall that just before dinner on the first day young Sandy here needed some support, nearly failed induction." Sandy glared at Alice, but said nothing. Alice continued, "With our babies but also in your business career there are times a good intimidating glare will get you better results than words or actions." "There are two types. The first is what we call The Look." Alice stopped for effect, looking at her small audience, curious faces interested in the lesson. "The Look is natural to most women, and works primarily on men - of any age. I suspect you've all already used it many times. The Look doesn't require anything from the person giving it; the entire effect on a miscreant comes from their realisation that their actions haven't gone unnoticed, the reminder that it's not the expected behaviour, and that consequences can easily follow. Those consequences could be legal, managerial, financial or emotional; The Look works across all of those domains, uses their own sense of guilt and shame to correct behaviour without the need for words or further actions." They discussed the technique as a group, each girl invited to remember an occasion on which she'd used it and, harder to admit, an occasion on which it had been used on them. Alice offered some suggestions, how to make it more effective, when it was best employed and cautioned against overuse. Alice then introduced a further concept. "The Look only works when there's an implied authority," she explained, "Sometimes you need to impose your own authority on someone, use your force of will on them. This is much harder to master as it's a raw interpersonal dominance play, setting two minds against each other and establishing a strict hierarchy between you." She elaborated on the core concept, offered examples of how it could be used then covered basic techniques, ways of exerting control through non-verbal and non-violent means. The girls found it interesting, asking questions, teasingly testing what they'd learned on each other. Alice soon gave them free rein to do just that. "You're sat facing each other so that you can practice Force of Will," she told them, "I'll be here if you have questions, but look at your partner opposite, see if you can impose your will on them." Julie and Sandy looked at each other, caught each others' eyes and immediately started giggling. "Interesting approach," commented Alice, "but I'm not sure it'll be effective." The giggles subsided and the girls looked at each other again, intense staring, trying not to blink. Julie found it hard, not least because she was unsure what she was trying to achieve. She decided to start by making Sandy look away, see if she could at least force the other girl to break eye contact. Initially she got nowhere, both of them stopping with a smile every couple of minutes, the technique proving hard to learn. By the time dinner arrived Julie was feeling more confident. She could now stare down Sandy, a small but tangible advance, and a good baseline for further practice. She walked through to the dining room with the others, finding Miriam already there, stood at the near end of the table waiting for them. "I hear you've been practicing your Force of Will," said Miriam, "it's a tremendously useful skill for you to learn. I think we should test your progress." She smiled nastily, and gestured to the chair beside her. It was the same as the one at the head of the table, high arms, a built-in table on a hinge, straps hanging from the sides. "Force of Will is meaningless without consequences," said Miriam, "so you can pair up and seek to force your partner to accept being sat one of these seats, and restrained for the evening." The girls looked surprised but shrugged and accepted the challenge. Ellie walked briskly to the chair at the far end of the table and Sandy started to follow. Jane reached out, caught Sandy's arm and shook her head. "No, stay here with me," she suggested, Sandy's obeisance revealing before they'd even begun who would win that battle of wills. Julie sighed on Sandy's behalf and went to stand with Ellie. Although they'd known each other just a couple of days, already Julie considered Ellie a friend and didn't want to hurt her. Nonetheless she steeled herself, determined to win this contest. Julie made a mental commitment to be kind to Ellie after she won, show her the same care and support she'd already received so many times. As they turned to face each other Julie leaned forward a little and stared into Ellie's eyes. She focussed on projecting herself, demanding acquiescence, but immediately found herself recoiling, intimidated by the strength of Ellie's gaze. She renewed her focus, trying not to blink, not daring to look away. Ellie waited a moment, tilted her head just slightly and took a small step towards Julie. Without realising it Julie gave way, conceding the physical contest, stepping backwards in retreat. Ellie allowed a half smile onto her face, a confirmation that she was in control. Julie stumbled against the chair, knees buckling, her padded bottom landing squarely on the seat and she found herself looking up at Ellie, unable to break the gaze, knowing she had already lost. Ellie reached down and without looking away fastened Julie's wrists to the leather restraints they'd seen at the sides, then brought up a restraining strap between her legs, threaded a belt through and pulled it taut, holding Julie's waist to the back of the chair. Julie tensed her arms, testing her muscles against the bands on her wrists, found them unyielding, holding her in place. "My word," said Alice, breaking the mesmerising spell Ellie had somehow cast on Julie, "remind me not to go head to head with you Ellie. That was quite stunning!" Miriam nodded thoughtfully in agreement. "I think it's clear who the baby is in that pairing," she said, almost to herself, "no question at all." The truth of the statement compounded Julie's humiliation and, already distressed by the ease with which Ellie had dominated her, she found herself overcome with emotion. As she started to cry Ellie immediately leaned over her, drew Julie's head to her chest and gave a tight hug, holding Julie close. Her arms held by the restraints, Julie was unable to return the hug and could only sit there, feeling helpless as the tears flowed, not seeing Ellie exchange a motherly look of concern with Alice. It seemed much longer but only took a few seconds, gentle caresses on her head and back, before Julie regained her composure and pulled back a little, looking up to see a compassionate face smiling down at her. Ellie tousled her hair, turned and pulled up a normal chair alongside, ready for dinner. Through dinner Julie had found herself wondering why the winner ended up with all of the work, Ellie having to cut all her food into bite sized pieces, lift it on a fork or spoon to her mouth, wait for her to accept it and prepare the next mouthful. It must have reduced Ellie's enjoyment of her own meal, unable to feed them both while the food was warm. Ellie hadn't mentioned needing to finish her own meal after it went cold, hadn't even hurried Julie, her patience and obvious care welcome after the earlier trauma. It was only after dinner, the restraints still in place, Ellie and Jane enjoying the freedom to move around, stand up, play cards with Miriam and Alice, that Julie realised what she'd lost. She could only sit there, now fastened into a recliner, watching the more adult activity around her, suckling on the bottle of warm milk Ellie had chosen for her instead of the offered wine. Julie knew she could easily escape, her hands had been left free and the straps holding her down could be easily undone. She also knew that would be a terrible thing to do, a betrayal of Ellie but also of her own integrity. Instead she turned to Sandy, similarly bound, and asked how she was doing. "I'm bored," Sandy complained, "I need to get up. I want to move." She called out louder, across the room, "I want to move! We've had long enough, haven't we?" Miriam looked annoyed and spoke sharply, "Jane! Can you please keep your child quiet." Jane stifled a smile, and asked in response, "Of course, do you have a pacifier I could borrow?" Alice did smile at this and briefly left the room, returning with something in her hands. She handed it to Jane who examined it, laughed quietly to herself and walked to where Sandy sat. Sandy struggled against her restraints, now trying to escape, frightened into silence even before Jane reached down and pressed a large rubber nipple against her lips. Sandy resisted, unwilling to accept her new gift, until Jane placed a hand on her cheek and gently turned her face upwards so their eyes could meet. "Open your mouth," she instructed, and, having lost the battle of wills before, Sandy found herself obeying, blushing as her mouth was filled. Julie barely registered Jane squeezing the front of the pacifier, inflating the nipple inside Sandy's mouth, making it impossible to remove, quenching any sound louder than the squeaks of surprise Sandy now made. Instead she realised that she too had forever ceded control to another, looked across at Ellie in consternation and received scant comfort from the quiet answering nod, subtle and understated, affirming their new relationship. Hiding her inner turmoil Julie looked back to Sandy, seeing her cheeks slightly distended as she looked up at Jane, tears starting to form. "I'm sorry," said Jane, looking down at her captive charge, "but you'll be OK." She used her thumbs to wipe below Sandy's eyes, smearing moisture across her cheeks. "Unfortunately," she continued, "since you just tried to unfasten these straps we'd better help you stay safe." Before Sandy could react Jane knelt beside her, took one of her hands and attached a padded cuff to the wrist, holding it to the side of the chair. Sandy sagged further into the chair, offering no resistance as her other arm was similarly secured. Jane stayed kneeling there and spoke with her, subdued tones offering verbal comfort alongside the harsh physical confinement. Miriam nodded in approval and Alice leaned towards Ellie with a quiet suggestion. Ellie smiled and indicated agreement, got up from her seat and walked towards Julie. Trying hard to hide her sudden fear Julie shook her head quickly at Ellie, a barely perceptible movement conveying strong emotion. Ellie's brow wrinkled as her expression asked whether Julie was challenging her, and Julie immediately looked down, heat entering her cheeks as they turned red from the humiliating submission. She felt Ellie's hand on her wrist and looked up, saw a new amused question in her eyes but didn't dare say anything in response. Instead she forced herself to relax, accept what Ellie would do to her. Ellie looked back at Miriam and Alice, sharing her amusement with them. Miriam's smile was outdone by Alice's broad grin, but Julie missed this, having dropped her eyes again, knowing she no longer controlled her fate. Ellie lifted the wrist she held then with her other hand took the now empty bottle Julie hadn't realised she was still holding. She looked up at Ellie who finally dispensed with the subtlety and gave her an expansive smile, then bent, taking Julie's head between her hands, and touched her lips to Julie's forehead, a mother's kiss, reassurance and love. Julie looked up in wonder, emotionally confused, no chance of understanding what was happening. She watched Ellie refill the bottle, bring it back and put it gently to her lips, and allowed the nipple to enter, let Ellie feed her. Ellie waited patiently, seemed to sense when Julie's emotions were back under control and brought one of Julie's hands up so that she could hold the bottle herself. Seeing that Julie was now feeding herself Ellie stood up, tousled Julie's hair again and walked back to Alice, who with Jane was watching in rapt fascination. Julie watched her go, glad she could still move her arms but deeply confused, her gratitude for the tenderness of her treatment clashing with an inner disgust that she'd allowed it to happen. "Bravo," said Miriam softly, "Bravo."

Announcing Supersoft Simplechange, a full service personal hygiene device for home or institutional use. A remarkable invention brought to market in an attractive and affordable form Supersoft Simplechange makes changing time a quick, efficent and enjoyable experience for the lucky user of Supersoft's other products. Whether it's the first change of the day out of Supersoft Sleepwells, environmentally conscious fertilisation of the seeds in a Supersoft Eco-Gaia or traditionalist use of the original Supersoft Fluffies the astonishing Supersoft Simplechange can accelerate and simplify any change into a soft clean new Supersoft protection product. Non-intrusive sensors using a full range of optical, sound and thermal imaging sensors will identify not just the person placed on the changing area but also how they are dressed. This allows articulated tendrils and our amazing new inverted gravity fields to sensitively remove outer garments, revealing and providing access to the Supersoft product worn beneath. Special fingerprint tips to the tendrils will safely unfasten the Supersoft Eletabs, allowing the well used garment to be easily removed ready for the hygiene renewal process. Through carefully controlled heated water, tendrils tipped in soft natural fibres will effortlessly cleanse the area revealed, leaving it pristine and free from contamination. Our medical engineers have developed new Supersoft Epidermisense skin condition sensors (available at a generous discount to hospitals and specialist clinics) which will check for any signs of irritation, rashes or other unwanted issues, allowing the Supersoft Simplechange to apply a liberal coating of Supersoft Epidermovate, our new skincare and anti-rash ointment. Having provided this essential and loving care the Supersoft Simplechange will choose an appropriate Supersoft product from its internal storage hoppers and securely fit it to the willing and eager person enjoying this magnficent mechanical support service. Following this appropriate clothing will be fitted and in almost no time at all a happy clean user will be able to resume their previous activities, comfortable in their new padded protection. Obviously all of our customers are unique and individual, so the Supersoft Simplechange is fully configurable through a special version of the Fluffies SuperApp. Whether it's setting a schedule for specific Supersoft products (such as fitting Supersoft Velvetsafe ahead of a car journey or choosing a Supersoft Superstitions on that special day), specifying whether to use a scented soap during the hygienic renewal process or picking between replacing the prior clothing or a new outfit, the carer has full control. A single Supersoft Simplechange can easily accommodate programming to suit multiple different users, each with their own allocated Supersoft products and clothing preferences. One clothing option that has proven popular with our surviving beta testers is the Supersoft Supershirt, a specially designed and tailored diaper shirt that the Supersoft Simplechange will sew closed at the crotch, safely securing any daytime Supersoft product against wandering fingers or (in the event access to the Supersoft Simplechange is unavailable for an extended period) sagging due to extensive use. The stitching can be easily unpicked by a special tendril allowing garment re-use after being laundered following the next change. While the Supersoft Simplechange meets the needs of the busy carer by allowing entirely self-service or carer controlled use, accelerating all change activities, it has of course been engineered to support the safety and comfort of the lucky customer it's changing. We recognise that the tendrils might be disconcerting and could cause a risk to less passive recipients of its automated care so each change is preceded by careful and gentle safety measures. These hold the arms and legs of the participant in place, using broad and flexible straps that prevent circulation issues and allow different parts of each limb to be securely held, changing as a garment is added or removed. This added restraint has been welcomed by carers worried about a reluctance to allow new clean protection to be fitted, as it eliminates any resistance being possible, irrespective of cause. While there's no cause to fear or fight against the Supersoft Simplechange removing that option allows a full relaxation and enjoyment of the process, free from guilt regarding needing its services. After being plumbed in the Supersoft Simplechange will after each change activate its own self-clean program, assuring its readiness for the next user and provision of hygiene renewal for them, whoever they are. Through integration to the Fluffies SuperApp it will also monitor product usage and its own hoppers, contacting Supersoft directly to order new supplies to assure stocks of padded protective products never run dry, just like our customers. Whether you're a carer or wearer, order now at all major adult medical suppliers (and a few minor ones) or read our customer testimonials to find out how they feel about Supersoft Simplechange. Customer Testimonials Elijah in South Dakota writes, "I ordered the new Supersoft Simplechange and the very next day it was delivered and installed. It's been magnificent! Brady was suspicious at first but from the moment those restraints took control he's been begging me to let him use the machine again and again. He definitely prefers its automated changes to being wet or messy." Fatima got in touch with us from Arizona, "My housemate bought this for me so that she didn't need to change me every time and, well, I managed to push her onto it. By the time it let her free she was in a Fluffies Eco-Gaia and begging me to release her, something I agreed to do only if she'd finally let me stop using your products. But your damn machine has programmed the SuperApp to prevent either of us removing diapers as we're both in them now, so we both now have to use the Simplechange every time we need a change and it puts us straight back into one. How do we reprogram it to stop this?" We were delighted to hear from Ichika in Japan who told us, "I bought this for all the people in my care home and they love it, especially after I added a kitten motif. But we're getting through supplies faster than I expected and two of our male staff are suspiciously thicker around the waist now. Is there an easy way to audit usage. 子猫愛！" But really all you need to hear are the thoughts of Jayla in Michigan: "Oh yea this good device, keep me dry always clean so happy thank you thank you" So order yours online today at http://SupersoftFluffiesForLife.com or Like us on InstaTwitFace for an invitation to experience a change at one of our showcase installations.

This is incidentally an untagged entry in the world of Supersoft - if I'd referenced the brand prior to people encountering it within the story it would've spoiled the reveal. For people unfamiliar with the relevance of the brand of diaper used, the features described in its product launch press release may help explain the closing situation of the protagonist:

I saw them ahead of me, walking the other way. They were joking with each other, lads on a night out or walking home from an event. One of them had a backpack, casually slung over one shoulder, pulling his denim jacket aside. His t-shirt was plain, a v-neck, a dark colour in the shadow from the streetlight behind him. His friends were casually dressed too, jeans and fashionable sneakers, hairstyles that need investment and chemicals. They ignored me, so I ignored them, maybe sped up a little as I approached. I'm not generally nervous on the streets but caution is ingrained, especially when I'm alone. I should have had more caution. Should have crossed the street, turned, run away. I didn't, and as they passed they turned, grabbed me, a burly hand over my mouth blocking a scream I didn't even consciously try and then I was dragged backwards, five, maybe ten yards along the street, into an opening between two buildings. My struggles hindered the two of them dragging me but they had height, weight and muscle on their side, and kept calm. My legs kicking futilely didn't stop them, but my shoes came off. Nice heels, great for the office. Terrible for fleeing a street attack. The third man bent and picked them up as he followed, a small shake of his head. "That's far enough," he told the other two, and they lowered me to the floor, each of them pinning a shoulder and its arm with their knees. I kicked out at the third man as he approached, and went for the loudest scream I could muster. He laughed, pulled something from his backpack and threw it to one of the two holding me down. A second later my scream was cut off, my mouth now full of something. A latex taste, unpleasant and uncomfortable. "Behave or we'll lock this in place, throw away the key," said the one that had put it there, "You'll be sucking on it for hours before anybody gets it off." I looked up in fear, not sure what he meant by that. It suggested they expected me to be alive in a few hours time so they weren't planning to kill me, but it was the next few minutes that I feared more. His next words heightened that fear. "Come on, hurry up. Get her knickers off, we haven't got all night." He leaned down and tugged at the hem of my skirt, already around my thighs because of my kicking. A vicious yank, a tearing sound and I felt the skirt coming up past my hips. I managed to lift my head, saw the third man pull something out of backpack, step to the side of my flailing legs and kneel near the top of them. "May as well cut them off," he said, "quicker, and she won't be needing them again." I tensed as cold metal met my flesh, heard a snip, saw him lift a strange pair of scissors, their blades bent midway. He dipped them again, leaning over me and cut the waistband of my high-legs on the other side too. The moment they'd grabbed me it was obvious what was about to happen, but their preparation seemed to make it worse. These weren't opportunists, they'd planned this in advance, had been waiting for the right victim. For me. I didn't think it was targeted, I was just the right woman at the wrong time. My struggles had dislodged that latex in my mouth and as he moved to my feet, grabbing my ankles I forlornly begged. "Stop! Please, don't do this. Just let me go. Plea.." Latex in my mouth again. "Final chance," said the man that put it there, "Behave and we won't hurt you. It's nearly over already." It might not hurt him, sure. It was already painful for me, pinned to the ground, psychological horror about to be matched by physical torment. I felt my feet lifted, high enough to draw my bottom and lower back off the ground. The man that had used my ankles to achieve this changed his grip, arms coming over my calves before he stepped forward, his body between my legs, forcing my thighs apart. I was helpless, vulnerable, incapable of preventing what was now inevitable. I tried anyway, wriggling and squirming beneath the weight of the other two even as I felt one of them tug loose the ruined remains of my underwear. He threw it aside and then, to my surprise, my body was lowered to the floor again. It felt different, something below me. Soft and padded, and making me panic. I finally realised who these men were, what they were doing to me and had the bizarre experience of wishing it would be rape after all. Instead a large hand confidently reached down between my thighs and pulled up some of that soft padding between them. I could see it was exactly what I'd feared, a thick diaper, now held taut against my tummy. The two men pinning me each pulled up a side flap, fastened it quickly and expertly to the front, a practiced move that I knew condemned me. The man holding my legs saw my expression, understood that I was aware and knew what they'd just done to me. "Yes," he said, "Supersoft Fluffies." As they walked away I sat there frantically pulling at the tabs, trying to escape before the diaper took effect on me, a futile scrabbling that ended as I felt myself lose control. It was too late. I'd become a Supersoft customer, another unwilling recruit caught by the roving so-called Supermen that they so vehemently denied were theirs. Not that it mattered. I was theirs now, a perpetual customer, caught in a cycle of dependency that it took months to break. If ever. I got up, pulled the tattered remains of my skirt off and waddled back into the street. I needed to find someone willing to give me a change..

Not if his caregiver is the same person that was his childhood nanny, or if his caregiver was called Nanny. Or if the whole thing was a conspiracy against Chloe.

Form HR-2018-G-2a Name - Chloe B Role - Administrative Assistant Department - Product Design Immediate Manager - Harold L Reason for Grievance: Inappropriate approach by manager Date of Incident: 14th January 2021 Location of Incident: Head office, fourth floor Persons Present: Chloe B, Harold L Details to Support Claim: I had just returned from lunch, finding everybody else was still out and sat at my desk. The door to Harry's office opened, and he called me over. I got up, went to talk to him and he asked me to step into his office. After I entered he indicated to the door and asked that I close it, which I did, then I sat in front of his desk. He was stood behind it. He looked at me and said a few words about the work we're doing then said, "I've asked you in here for a specific reason. I'm sorry but you recall your work contract includes in your obligations the phrase 'and any other tasks as may be required'?" Naturally this caused me concern but I responded professionally and courteously, and indicated that I was aware of that clause. At this point Harold undid his trouser belt and dropped his trousers to his ankles. As he did this he told me, "Well, Nanny's on holiday and I need a change." I could see he was wearing underwear that was bulky and although it seemed to be covered in white plastic it was discoloured at the front and between his legs. At this point in distress at this blatant sexual harassment I turned and left the room. I returned to my desk in tears then left the office; I am scared to return while Harry remains employed by the company, even should he be removed from a management position over me. Resolution Required: Removal of Harold L from his position. Monetary compensation for distress caused. Assigned HR Assessor: Judith K Assigned Senior Manager: Darcy Q HR Assessor Analysis: Following interviews with Chloe and with Harold the description of events by Chloe in this Grievance case are accurate. However her admitted response to the difficult situation in which Harold found himself demonstrated illegal discrimination against a vulnerable adult, and justify a Gross Misconduct charge against Chloe for breaching company policy. Specifically, including the testimony provided at interview, she has admitted to: 1 - Failing to comply with the terms of her contract, to whit performance of 'any other tasks as may be required' 2 - Direct discrimination against Harold by referring to him as (quoting her precise words) "you fucking pervert" 3 - Direct and indirect discrimination against Harold by refusing him needed support due to her rejection of his disability 4 - Malign and malicious defamation due to spreading false rumours and misinformation regarding Harold amongst his and other teams The number and nature of these breaches of policy (and the law) fully justify immediate dismissal. The Company is however willing to retain Chloe due to her otherwise impeccable work history here, subject to appropriate measures and training being put in place, if Harold is in agreement. Senior Manager Decision: After discussions with the Assigned HR Assessor (Judith) and the unfortunate victim of this episode (Harold) I am minded to accept his suggestion of pertinent training and correctional measures that will allow Chloe to continue her career with The Company. The final decision is thus: Chloe may accept instant dismissal, loss of accrued benefits and a subsequent court case funded by The Company on behalf of Harold for her illegal discrimination. Should she wish to avoid this The Company are willing to retain her employment on the following conditions: 1 - She accepts and carries out to the best of her abilities the duties refused in the original incident, on the occasions Harold's allocated carer is unavailable. 2 - A public apology is made, in which she withdraws and declares false the allegations and misrepresentations made against Harold 3 - She undergoes Empathy Training for a period of no less than six months, involving the full time wearing and use of diapers. This suggestion by Harold is unusual but has the support of The Company as it aligns to our Care and Compassion policy. Harold has indicated that his allocated carer is willing to provide the same care for Chloe during working hours 4 - Chloe will be ineligible for promotion or pay rises through the period of the Empathy Training. However the company will reimburse her spending on disposable diapers and wipes, as this is recognised as an additional unanticipated expense. Decision Accepted by Petitioner: No Escalation to Board: No Referral to Tribunal: Yes Tribunal Notes: This Tribunal has heard from the three parties involved: Chloe B, Harold L and The Company. We find the facts in this case are uncontested, with the proposed resolutions by The Company the cause of challenge. On this matter we side with Harold L and The Company, and note that the behaviour and lack of remorse by Chloe B is, in our view, disgraceful. We further note that should Harold B (funded by The Company or otherwise) pursue legal action against Chloe B following this incident, he is likely to receive a substantial reward that will leave her destitute. As we have a duty of care we have thus sought a court order to prevent this from occurring, by removing the need to bring a private case. Tribunal Verdict: The Decision of The Company is upheld. The option of being dismissed is removed by the aforementioned court order, which to assure justice in this matter also mandates (with legal force) compliance with all four of the conditions proposed by The Company. Case Closed: Yes Closure Reason: Chloe B terms of employment updated to include new conditions and funds allocated to reimburse first year of diaper purchases.

Chapter 7 "Day three feels very easy," said Miriam, "our babies have already grown accustomed to wearing a diaper, most of them no longer bothered by it. They've worn and used enough for it to start to feel normal for them, no shame in just letting it happen when the need arrives, no benefit in waiting in discomfort." Thinking of that day, Julie found herself nodding in agreement. Even waking up wet, remembering briefly rousing from her slumbers to relieve her bladder a few hours before, hadn't been unpleasant. It was just how life had become, all her colleagues waddling through for a change and demonstrating a comparable lack of concern that their diapers had been needed. They'd played around in the showers again, any shyness overwhelmed by thick sponges assuring they were all properly washed, before making their way to find what they'd be wearing that day. Julie hadn't been able to avoid some excitement about that. "Can't wait to find out today's outfit," she'd declared, "and you all look sooo cute as toddlers." Alice had laughed, hearing that comment as they entered the room. "That wont be happening today," she said, enjoying the surprise shown by the girls, "we thought you'd like to try the full baby look." The surprise was replaced by apprehension but that soon dissipated as Alice matched the girls into pairs and invited them to choose their own diaper. Julie looked at the selection offered and laughed, poking at one for a closer look. Thin crinkling plastic, a bright primary colour printed on the sides and a band across the front showing a colourful cartoon character smiling happily in its own diaper, a similar design. "We have these manufactured for us," revealed Alice, "they're based on a design for 3-9 month old babies, suitable for sitting up and crawling. We have had to make some adjustments to suit the adult form but you'll look and feel very little in them." Jane drew the conversation back a few seconds. "We're going to have to crawl?" she asked incredulously, "on these floors that's going to hurt." Julie looked down at the polished wooden floor and remembered the soreness she'd suffered from just kneeling on one yesterday. Alice reassured them. "We could force that," she said, "a former member of our team designed restraints that stop our babies from standing and walking." "We don't like to use those in the first week though," she explained, "so you all get to escape that part of the process." She looked towards Julie and added, "Unless you want to try them?" Julie blushed and wondered why she was always the one being offered the additional regressive treatments. "Not for me," she stated firmly, then looked at the woman she'd been paired with, "But I'm sure Sandy would love to try." Sandy stepped backwards in surprise and glared at Julie. "Really? You have things to learn girl," she said, her words harsher than her tone, "like who the baby here is." She thrust the diaper she was holding at Julie, who instinctively took it from her, both hands blocking the thrust at chest height. Sandy continued her movement and pressed Julie back, making her sit on the table behind her. "Let's get this on you," said Sandy, "it's so your style." Julie accepted Sandy's authority, glad to see her showing some self-confidence and not wanting to interrupt it. She lay back, turning her head sideways to find Jane and Ellie grinning at her, and stuck out her tongue. They changed expression, both giving her an immediate look of censure, making Julie laugh. Jane laughed back but Ellie just closed her eyes and shook her head, an adult response to an intentionally naughty child. Julie looked away, oddly chastened, then turned her head and looked the other way as she heard someone enter the room. Daphne had brought the wicker basket back in and set it down on the next table. "Here, you'll need this," she told Sandy, who had just finished sealing the leg tapes on Julie's diaper. Handing something to Sandy she offered, "I'll help you with Julie." Julie sat up and let them pull a soft white top over her arms. As her head poked through its neck she realised it had a t-shirt style collar and sleeves, but in a delicate lace, lacking the scratchiness of cotton. A hand on her shoulder encouraged her to lie back and Sandy asked her to lift her hips, suggesting that this was merely a pretty diaper shirt, fumbling between her legs confirming she was being fastened in. Daphne had reached back into the basket and pulled out another piece of clothing, wide straps dangling in a colourful print. This was pulled up Julie's legs then, her hips high again, up over her diaper. Even before she could lower her bottom to the table she heard Sandy laugh. Julie sat up and looked down. The colourful pattern was pretty, white unicorns prancing on a pink backdrop, but it looked like a diaper shirt in design, small ruffles around her legs and buttons instead of snappers not explaining Sandy's amusement. Sandy saw her confusion and shook her head, declining to explain. Instead she pulled the bib part of the garment up Julie's front, its square shape leaving her diaper shirt visible at the sides, straps on the top corners soon tied in a neat bow behind her neck. It was as she stood and instinctively ran her hands down her hips to smooth her new outfit that Julie discovered why Sandy had been so amused. She reached behind and felt the cloth covering her, validating her initial assumption: there were ruffles across her bottom! The other two hadn't noticed, instead giggling at Jane's yellow and green romper, the same design. "Even if you're not crawling yet," said Alice, "these little romper dresses give your legs plenty of freedom." She looked at Jane and Julie, leaned her head to one side and added, "and you're such darling little babies in them." Julie found herself feeling cross at that characterisation, even if its description of how she looked was accurate, and decided to play the adult instead. "Sandy," she said, intentionally lowering the tone of the second syllable, making the name a command, "On this table." She patted the surface, indicating where she wanted the still naked girl. A minute later Sandy was also in a diaper, Julie finishing the bow that held her romper on her, its colour a faded pink, the unicorn pattern in a rich purple. "I love that fabric," Julie said, "I could wear that normally!" Sandy jumped down from the table, turned and placed her hands on it, bending at the waist and looked coyly over her shoulder at the others. "I'm sorry," she said, "But I just have to do this." She started gyrating her bottom, the ruffles never getting to settle as her diaper juddered beneath, moderating but not eliminating the remarkable jiggle she was managing. Three young woman burst into laughter and looked at each other, shrugged, and ran over to where Sandy stood. They lined up alongside her, leaning against the table and suddenly four bottoms were shaking in the air, ruffles flying, breathless giggles as the girls threw their energy into the moment. Daphne looked shocked and glanced at Alice, who shook her head and stood there smiling, letting her charges enjoy an interlude of levity. She knew it would boost their mood and morale, the endorphin rush easily supplemented by breakfast and preparing the group for a long day of training. All that aside, she was looking forward to telling Miriam she'd missed seeing the four girls twerking, knowing the austere woman would be disappointed by the adult behaviour but distraught that she hadn't witnessed it. That day had begun in earnest straight after breakfast, the girls being shown straight into the lecture room and briefed on their agenda for the day. Supply chains, purchase or manufacture, key supplier relationships, margins and cost control. The material was well presented, Alice demonstrating her broad experience with support from Daphne, occasional comments or anecdotes to help the trainees relate to the things they learned. Training had been interrupted mid morning when an unmistakeable odour permeated through the room. Alice smiled kindly at Ellie and asked, "You need a change hon?" Ellie nodded, then noticed the shocked looks from her three new friends. She frowned, gestured at the padding around her hips then eloquently shrugged, palms upwards. "Yeah, fair point," said Jane with a chuckle, "Can't promise I wont be joining you before lunch." "Daphne, Miriam's told me you're on dirty diaper duty today," said Alice, "could you..?" Daphne didn't reply, but beckoned Ellie and they left the room together, Ellie returning a short time later looking happier, her romper hanging loosely on her hips. An hour later Julie had found out why. She'd already wet her diaper, knowing it was unavoidable and letting it happen as she listened to Alice speak, giving her focus to the class and not her dampening diaper. This time though she'd felt a different need for relief and taking heart from Ellie's nonchalance and subsequent quick change, had forced herself to relax, allow her body's natural functions as she leaned back in her chair, bottom slightly raised. It hadn't felt any better than the day before; if anything worse, the lack of active effort to expel drawing the process out, making her more conscious of the sensitive nerves being roused and stimulated as soft solids passed them. Frightened by the resultant intensity of feeling she tensed then squeezed her muscles, eager to finish, then relaxed down into her seat, grimacing as her diaper squashed up around her. She scanned the room in mild embarrassment and saw Daphne standing up, looking towards her. Daphne didn't speak or interrupt Alice, just used a gentle motion with her hand to suggest Julie join her in leaving the room. The walk to the changing room wasn't pleasant, an enforced waddle from the diaper not heavy enough to hang loose, instead rubbing against Julie as she walked. Daphne saw her expression and showed sympathy, but said nothing until Julie was pulling herself onto the table. "Lie back," Daphne instructed, "and if you're good I have a little treat for you." Julie wasn't sure that a treat would be a good thing, but was glad to be getting out of her messy diaper. She felt Daphne's cold hands at the buttons between her legs, undoing her romper, and spread her knees further apart to make it easier. "I'm finding it very difficult," she admitted, feeling less inhibited about sharing her feelings with just the two of them in the room. "This isn't what I expected. I'm trying to fit in, but.." She paused, drew her elbows back and levered her shoulders off the table, looking at Daphne. "This is just so weird. Everybody's nice and everyone's treating it as something that's so normal and it's really interesting learning about the company and I've had some fun but it's weird." Daphne continued with the undressing and cleaning as she listened, giving Julie the chance to vent. Sensing Julie needed a response she gave a reassuring smile and agreed, "It is weird, don't feel bad about thinking that." "I've been here for three years now," she revealed, "and I still find it strange at times. Like this, helping someone your age get clean and comfortable." As Julie blushed Daphne continued, "But you're doing very well. I think all of you are, and it's interesting for us to see how you all respond, what you bring to the group." "I don't think I've been able to do anything yet," admitted Julie, "I couldn't even change Jane's diaper yesterday." Daphne laughed as she finished wiping Julie clean. "Don't let that worry you," she said, "some people never get around to changing a dirty diaper. But you do contribute," she assured, "you help everybody have fun." "In circumstances like this," Daphne indicated with a sweep of her arm the changing room, its tables and shelves of diapers, "your sense of humour is very valuable to us." "Now," said Daphne, "your treat." She started to fasten the poppers of Julie's diaper shirt, explaining, "You have been cooperative and well mannered and you're paying attention to the training, so you get a couple of hours out of diapers." Julie's eyes widened. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "That's awesome!" She paused then asked, "You're doing up the shirt? I don't get underwear?" Daphne shook her head, by now doing up the buttons on the romper. "The shirt is clean and soft enough, and it's only for a couple of hours." She tickled Julie, a brief tease to soften her next statement, "We don't want you feel too adult, after all." Julie rolled her eyes. "True," she said, deadpan, "I'd hate to feel like a grown woman in a romper and pink ruffles. But.. what if I need to use the loo?" Daphne gave her a measured look before replying. "Let's hope you can hold it," she said, "We'll have you back in a diaper before long." ** By lunch that day all of the girls had been for a change, and as they walked through to the dining room it was obvious they'd all been been given the same treat, rompers hanging loose at the hips and bottom, all of them walking normally. They'd found Miriam waiting for them there, and included her in their quiet chatter, the meal more of a break from training than a feast. After they'd eaten she'd given them another twenty minutes to relax then called for their attention. "I see that Daphne's been nice to you all," she said, "that tells me that everybody's engaging well in the process. Congratulations, and thank you." "We do find it helps to give our babies some time out of diapers," she told them, "it helps the skin recover, breathe a little. I'm afraid though that you've had your break, and it's time to give each other some protection again." Miriam left a silent gap to give the group time to understand the protection they'd be getting. "So if you can all follow Daphne, and I'll see you all at dinner." The girls shrugged, none of them having expected to be out of diapers for long, and went with Daphne to the changing room, soon emerging ready for the afternoon's training, their rompers bulging once more.

..butchered. You're assuming the name of a character, their age, their current occupation, why they're living together. You've added a familial relationship that turns it into an incest story. You're welcome to make all of those assumptions as you read the story. None of them match my view of the situation but as I highlighted on another story, letting the reader fill in the gaps in their own way is very intentional. What I'm really struggling with is why you want me to stop telling a story and start listing unnecessary facts. It doesn't matter how old she is, it doesn't matter why they're sharing a house, it doesn't even matter what her name is. Why would I waste your time and that of other readers by clumsily stating all these things up front? If they matter I'll introduce them to the story at the appropriate time. Worse than that, you've lost all of the impact. My opening created immediate tension, between the speaker and the person they're speaking to. That hits home without you needing to know a single thing about either of them. You're immediately enticed into reading further, to understand who these people are and why so strong a denial is required. I don't write for idiots, I write for myself, and I refuse to spoonfeed people that expect a specific structure, writing style or set of information. I especially don't write saccharine fluff pieces for people to wank over; my writing tends to be distinct and I prefer to subvert rather than incorporate tropes. I'm personally very proud of most of this story; how it ends I feel is a bit weak but others have expressed appreciation. You're welcome to disagree, welcome to dislike it, welcome to share those views, but please, don't think I'm going to change a single thing based on your feedback. I don't hate myself that much.

Emergency Broadcast Following recent events the US Government has become aware of people stocking up on essential supplies so that they can see out any period of uncertainty and danger to public safety arising from the new strains of COVID coming from Europe and Brazil. While warehouse stocks of fresh and tinned food remain strong there is now a shortage of imported luxuries and toilet roll. To address this situation we have asked the National Guard to deploy - unarmed - and provide logistic support and material aid. Should you need assistance please contact your municipal or state authorities and a National Guard unit will be dispatched at the soonest opportunity. They will be able to provide you with hot chocolate, bananas and appropriate alternatives to toilet roll. An assigned National Assistance Necessary Nominated Youth from our volunteer youth organisation will remain on site with you to assure your ongoing comfort during this time. Although they will be providing hands-on assistance to assure you receive needed nutrition and to change your soiled toilet roll avoidance device please try and avoid referring to these generous volunteers as babysitters as you are of course not a baby and can resume your adult responsibilities at any point (subject to passing the relevant and required tests). We thank all dutiful citizens for their cooperation at this time and would like to thank our National Guard, the national youth organisation and also our corporate sponsors the Supersoft corporation for their generous discounts on toilet roll avoidance devices. End Broadcast.

See, that's exactly the sort of nonsense that discourages authors from posting. Which part of "This story is complete" are you failing to comprehend? I've even told you where to find it. How can someone have writer's block on a story they finished writing well over a year ago? I welcome constructive feedback. I do not welcome unwarranted false accusations intended to demean me and insult my integrity. In short, fuck off.

Enough. Anybody wanting the full complete version of this story will have to find it somewhere else, I'm not going to waste any more time on the people in this thread.

Now I feel people in this thread are trying to gaslight me. Maybe wait a little more than just three hours after I post a complete 4800 word story? I did run out of steam, and stopped adding to this story after I completed it, and published it as part of a collection of short stories on Amazon. A year ago. Still, it's nice to hear how people reading my fiction perceive it, and me. Do keep sharing, even if it does discourage me from posting further.

The problem wasn't that I'd been naughty. I knew I shouldn't and did anyway. The problem was, she knew too. I sat pensively waiting, my knees primly together, the short skirt more elegant when I was standing but I wasn't sure how long she'd be, hoped my submissive seated position would assuage her anger. She threw open the door and stood there, a strong commanding posture with her feet apart, a hand on each side of the door frame, blocking any escape with her body as well as the imposing stare she turned on me. Just as I felt the need to break the ominous silence she gestured to me, a single finger upright, thumb out to the side, a slight frown on her face. I spoke anyway. "I can explai.." "Hush," she said, "I'm not interested." "But I.." I tried. "Silence." I was silent, but only for a few seconds. She still hadn't moved, so I took a last gamble. "I'm sorry, I.." Three strides and she was there, her hand at my mouth, stifling my words. I resisted raising my hands as she put her fingers between my lips, her other hand holding my jaw open as she grasped my tongue and pulled it firmly between my teeth. "Hold that," she told me, then as I looked up at her glaring eyes in confusion, "I said hold your tongue." Confused but trying to obey I reached up, took hold of my tongue between forefinger and thumb and sat there feeling silly as she stepped back and looked at me. "I told you to be quiet. Now you have no choice. If you let go before I say, I'll pierce your tongue and fit a loop to it so that I can fasten it to a gag." She stopped as though thinking a little before suggesting, "Perhaps a bit gag. You won't be able to draw it fully into your mouth but your tongue will hold it in place, no need for straps. That would be rather stylish." It wasn't clear whether she was joking but I really didn't want to test her. I was already in enough trouble, I didn't need her modern take on a Scold's Bridle to add to my woes, no matter how stylish. "Stand up." She wasn't asking nicely, not tonight. I stood up, tongue still gripped, starting to drool a little. This wasn't comfortable and felt silly but I didn't dare let go, challenge her to go through with that threat. I had pierced nipples already, a previous challenge I shouldn't have made, had since suffered more than one uncomfortable punishment with them chained together tight enough to touch. "You won't be needing these," she said, pulling down my skirt, my tights, my underwear, all of it in one aggressive tug from the hips. The clothes pooled around my feet, the tights still clinging patriotically to my ankles. Crouching down she lifted each of my feet in turn, pulling the tights free and leaving me entirely naked from the waist down. "Stay there," she said, leaving the room, taking my clothes with her. I stood there, thumb and finger now in my mouth; it made me drool more but was more comfortable for my tongue, the punishment now humiliation rather than pain. She could have intended either, would happily accept both. Easy for her to accept, she wasn't the one with a sore tongue, stood there like an infant with its hand in its mouth. By the time she returned my arm was aching and I was using my other arm to hold it up, keep my grip on my tongue. My front was wet now, making her smile briefly, not enough to light up her eyes. That more than anything worried me, told me just how much trouble I was in. She walked around behind me, put down the bag she was carrying, a large open one that I had been too busy watching her face to see inside, and from the sounds I heard took something from it. Her hand on my wrist, accompanied by a soft instruction. "No talking but you may let go now." Letting go immediately I stood there quietly, rubbing my arm, pain she probably hadn't intended. Her hand stayed by my mouth, moved to tug my jaw down, forced a wide gap between my teeth, got me worried. I tensed but didn't try to close my mouth, knew that biting her would be a step too far, would lead to permanent damage. She felt my tension, didn't try to relieve it, knew I'd be fearing one of her invasive gags. "You drooled like a baby," she told me, "I like that." I shivered in concern. The ball gags made me drool but not as much as the ring gags, uncomfortable iron behind my teeth, forcing them wide apart, leaving me vulnerable and dripping saliva through my gaping lips. I lifted hands slightly, instinctive resistance to being gagged but managed to control myself, stop them getting near enough to impede her. She noticed of course, a quick slap as I moved them down again making me glad I hadn't tried taking them any higher. She didn't say anything though, just lifted her hand, plugged my inviting hole. It was plastic of some form, yielding as I probed it with my tongue, thick enough to keep my teeth well apart but not uncomfortably so. This surprised me and as she released my jaw I started to turn my head towards her, trying to understand why she'd been so lenient. That movement made something bounce against my breast; there was something hanging from my gag. Even as I looked down she took it, held it in her hands, gave it a squeeze. Even in its existing form the gag worked a little, taking the edge off my squeal. The plastic in my mouth expanded, seemingly inflated by her action. Another squeeze and it inflated again, less surprising this time, no squeal but making me aware of the front of the gag, outside my mouth, now pushing against my lips. She kept squeezing until my mouth was full, tongue held in place, teeth unable to meet with the gag as it passed between them at the front, where it connected to that rigid plate, pressing firmly against my mouth around and beyond my lips. I stood passively while she unscrewed the pump, inserted a small key into the hole that it left and twisted it around before removing it again. I realised I could now breath through my mouth, a passageway opened through the centre of the inflated gag. More noise behind me, then she told me to sit down. Even as I bent my knees I realised she'd put something on the bed behind me, intended me to sit on it. I froze, reluctant to expose myself to her plan, even though I knew it was unavoidable. She made her impatience clear. "I said, sit down. Now." That wasn't a tone to play games with. I sat down, looked down, discovered I was sat on a folded towel. No, it was too thick, there must be more than one here. I reached to take hold of it, have a look, but she caught my arm at the wrist, pulled it towards her, slid my hand into a glove. I looked at her in consternation, then at my hand, which she was gently but firmly curling into a loose fist. It wasn't a glove at all, it was a mitten, and with my hand curled up inside it I'd be unable to grip anything. Sighing through my gag I forced that arm to relax, watched her buckle the mitten closed at my wrist, fit a tiny padlock that would stop me undoing it even with free fingers. Not that I'd have free fingers; she quickly moved across and did the same to my other hand, both of them now out of action, clumsy appendages useful only as blunt instruments. Those clumsy limbs were lifted high above my head then released. I kept them there, waiting for permission to lower them. Instead she pulled my top off, lifting it up over my head and, standing up, over my arms too. I was glad to get out of the wet thing, wasn't glad to have my bra on display. It didn't stay on display, joining my top on the floor moments later, my breasts hanging free, those hateful rings in full view. She must have noticed my shiver because she paused for a moment, took one of the rings and gave it a gentle tug. Not enough to hurt but uncomfortable anyway, a stark reminder of my vulnerability. "Not this time," she told me, "I have other plans for you." Those plans included a t-shirt lifted above my head, slid down my arms, pulled into place at my waist. I looked at her in surprise but she just laughed, a nasty knowing chuckle. With a hand just below my neck she pushed me back on the bed, walked around to the other side and kneeled on it, reaching for my arms. I'd put them down to steady myself as I'd fallen back but she brought them back up over my head, did something to my wrists there. As she walked back around I twitched them gently, found them fastened in place. I could have tugged, tested the strength of the restraint but there was no point; she'd have done a good job, and I wouldn't like the consequences were I able to prove otherwise. What I could do was lift my head and watch as she pulled the towels up between my legs, revealed that they weren't towels, that it was a cloth diaper, tailored to fit an adult. It was fitted to me, velcro on flaps that folded from the back to the front, wrapping me securely in what was an astonishingly thick diaper. Reaching down between my legs again she brought up some plastic that I hadn't seen, didn't know was there. I protested from behind my gag, muffled noises telling her of my displeasure. A diaper was kinky, a plastic cover for it functional. She intended me to use this and that wasn't something I wanted at all. "Hush baby," she said, and ignored me as she used poppers to fasten that terrible plastic around me, encasing the diaper I was wearing and assuring its effectiveness. "We don't want you leaking now, do we." No, we did not. My preferred way to achieve this involved using the toilet instead, but removing that diaper would be hard with my hands in these mittens, impossible while they were fastened above my head. She made it even harder for me, tugged at the waistband of my t-shirt, revealed that it too had flaps that could meet between my legs. It wasn't a t-shirt, it was a onesie, a babygrow, infantile clothing suited to someone in diapers. She'd reached underneath me for the rear one, pushing thick cloth against my crotch, then fastened the onesie between my thighs, holding that cloth there, the diaper pressing firmly against me no matter how much I wriggled to escape it. She finally laughed at that, reached down and tickled my tummy. This stopped me wriggling, I wasn't enjoying this at all, didn't like the humiliation she was forcing onto me. Not least because I didn't think the humiliation had ended, a fear she moved to confirm. Moments later, my arms free to move again, my hands unable to do more than prod at my diaper through their thick mittens, I sat up and looked at her, waited for her next move. It was an explanation, one I didn't like. "Your punishment is simple," she said, "You've acted with all the restraint and maturity of a baby, so as a baby I shall treat you." I looked at her aghast. I knew, we knew I'd been naughty, but normally her punishments were swift, targeted, effective. I tried to ask for details, what did she mean, how long was this for, why this? The muffled noises were ignored, a contemptuousness snort making it clear I was wasting my time. "Kneel down," she commanded, "On the bed, not the floor. Now sit back on your heels." I knelt there, looking at her, arms by my side. She hadn't bothered to change for this scene, was still in jeans and a comfortable jumper, casual domestic attire that made her so attractive, made this whole situation so much nastier. If she'd been in leather or latex, one of her PVC outfits, thigh-high heels and dramatic make-up this would all be a game, a fun interlude in our busy lives. She wasn't, she was a real person, acting as herself, making my role feel terribly real too. That made her next instruction chilling. I just looked at her in dread, wishing I hadn't heard it, unwilling to obey. "I said, you're a baby and babies use their diapers. Use your diaper." Despite the impatience in her voice I still knelt there, still trying to avoid that infantile act that would confirm my status, burden me with living the role she'd so carefully dressed me to represent. I knew she wouldn't accept my refusal, and she didn't. "Last chance. Use your diaper, or I'm taking it off you long enough to fit a catheter," she told me, and paused to let that sink in before adding, "And I'll cut the tube too short, so that it slides inside you, needs surgery to remove. You'll have no control until then and if things go wrong, ever again." That made things easier for me. Act like a baby or be left with the urinary control of one. I lifted a little off my knees and tried to wet myself. It still took time, my body telling me this wasn't the place, that I'd soil my clothing, that I'd damage the bed. Luckily she could see I was trying, gave me the time, nodded in satisfaction as she saw my expression change to indicate that I'd done as she asked, started to use the diaper as its design intended. I knew I'd struggle with the embarrassment, the humiliation of wetting myself, of doing it in front of her. I didn't expect the surprise of it not being uncomfortable, the diaper soaking the liquid quickly enough that I could barely tell it was there, the discomfort coming from the legs and waist of the plastic pants, a tightness I'd been coping with since she fitted them. That surprise made me tense slightly, enough to stop the flow. She frowned at me, and as so often in the past, I wondered at her ability to know whether I was doing as she'd asked. I closed my eyes and concentrated, resumed wetting myself, a nearly full bladder emptied into my diaper. Eventually I finished. I looked at her but didn't move, didn't want to sit on that wet diaper. She smiled, walked up to me and cupped her hand beneath it, pushed it softly against me. "There," she said, "That wasn't so difficult was it. Good baby." Kneeling on the bed I was slightly taller than her, and that praise made me sag with relief. I leaned my head against her shoulder, eyes against her neck, tried not to cry. Maybe this was all over now, she'd let me out of this and we could resume our lives. That hope was bolstered by her response to me nuzzling against her, arms around my back drawing me off the bed and onto my feet. She swivelled me around then and banished my hopes by pushing me face down onto the bed, bent at the waist, my diapered bottom uppermost and facing her. Even that simple move had given me new sensations, wet cloth against my body, the onesie stopping it sagging away, feedback from every movement that I was in a diaper, and that it was wet. That I'd wet myself. I lay there, face down on the bed, trying to come to terms with the situation. "Your punishment is for acting like a baby," she told me, breaking my line of thought, "but you were naughty and babies need punishing so that they can learn when they did things wrong." Wait? She was going to punish me by dressing me as a baby, making me wet myself and then punish me on top of that anyway? That wasn't fair, and I perhaps foolishly told her this. "What was that?" she asked, "Those mumbles make no sense sweetie. It's ok, I understand, babies can't talk." Great, now she was pretending that the gag meant I talked like a baby too. Sadly she wasn't too far wrong, all vowels and no discernible words. "Because you're a baby I'm only going to hand spank you," she told me. I shivered anyway, she had a good swing and I'd been in tears from her hand spankings before. "But there's a change from our usual spanking rules. You still have to count, but any missed counts won't result in additional spanks." She rubbed my shoulders and leaned over me, whispered into my ear, "I don't want to be accused of child abuse, so you'll just get ten strokes even if you miss a count." Forget child abuse, there was a fine line between play, punishment and domestic abuse and her spankings seldom cared about it. Even ten strokes were going to cause me pain, but I knew from experience that I couldn't avoid them now; she never relented. "Oh, by the way," she said, standing up again, "Since I can't add extra strokes because you're a baby, if you fail to count we'll have to recognise that as an admission that you are a baby, and want to stay that way for another week." Another week? A whole week as a baby for merely missing a count? I was so shocked I nearly missed the first count. "One," I called. "Oah?" she asked me, "I asked you to count. You're going to have to do better than that." A second stroke landed, the diaper squidging against my skin but softening the impact, a dull thud that made my hips bounce off the bed rather than cause me pain. "Two," I called in response. "Oh dear," she said, "I'm not sure 'ooh' is a number." The rest of the spanking went much the same way, finishing quickly due to having no added strokes. "Eng? Really?" she said, rubbing my diaper against my bottom, "I didn't hear a single valid count through that entire spanking." I turned my head and looked at her in horror. "What do you mean, I counted all of them!" I protested, but the gag did its job, kept my voice to a burbling wordless noise. "Aww, that's so cute," she said, "Are you talking to me? Who's a clever baby? Who's my clever little baby?" She tickled me then, as I rolled over trying to escape, looked into my eyes and added nastily, "For the next ten weeks." I looked up at her, and for the first time throughout the punishment, started to cry. "Aww, poor baby," she said, the concern sounding genuine, her fingers wiping a tear away and caressing my cheek, "It's ok, I'll look after you. You wait, this will be fun." That stopped me crying. Not her concern or care, her suggestion it might be fun. She wasn't the one lying here in a wet diaper, unable to use their hands, reliant on someone that had just spanked them for all their needs. "I need to go and do something so you sit here and watch TV, and I'll be back in a little while," she told me, "Don't worry if you need to use your diaper again, it's a nice big one that'll cope perfectly well." She put on the TV and left the room, locking the door behind her. I sat up, poked at my wet diaper, decided that it wasn't my problem whether it could handle another full bladder, didn't have one to test it with anyway. She hadn't told me not to take it off but the mittens and onesie made that a hopeless task anyway, one that she'd punish should I even manage it. Instead I sat and watched TV, the gag becoming increasingly uncomfortable, the diaper entirely intolerable. I couldn't do anything about either, but this seemed the 'reflect on it' part of the punishment, promised release and relief on her return. She came back sooner than expected, unlocking the door and walking swiftly in. I could hear activity elsewhere in the house through the open doorway, shot a questioning glance at her, then saw what was in her hand. "Just getting some things sorted," she told me, "but you must need a drink. You can't hold a glass or even a sippy cup with those mittens on so here, I've brought you a bottle." She put it beside me, an oversized baby's bottle, large rubber nipple instead of a lid and a creamy brown liquid inside. I looked at it in consternation, worried about the contents, started to panic about what she was trying to feed me. She saw this, brushed my hair back off my voice, spoke with a kindly tone. "It's a latte, with two sugars, just as you like it," she told me, "Look at me!" The revelation of the drink surprised me but I responded quickly to the command, looked at her. She drew the small key out of her jeans pocket, fitted it to my gag and turned it the other way. I lost the ability to breath through it but seconds later, a sound of escaping air letting me know moments in advance, the gag deflated, letting her draw it from my mouth. "Stay quiet," she told me, "or this can go back in. When you've finished your bottle I want you to put this in your mouth, it'll remind you to keep quiet and maybe help you relax." She pinned a ribbon to my onesie, from which dangled an adult sized baby's pacifier. Looking at the gag she'd removed from my mouth I realised it had a mouth plate and ring just like a pacifier too. I'd look the same whether I used the one she just gave me or if she put the gag back in. That made it an easy choice, comfort and a drink, even if that drink might make me need the toilet before she returned again. The latte was still hot, tasted good, made the efforts of trying to pick up the bottle and hold it in my mittened fists worthwhile. It felt hot on the way out too, a different heat, this one spreading through an already wet diaper, confirming to my unwilling body that I'd used it again. I hated the sensation but it wasn't uncomfortable; the relief to my bladder making me feel I'd made the right decision. The discomfort came a little later, when the diaper cooled, a soggy reminder that I needed a change, cold urine making my skin crawl and my brain scream. I sat as still as I could, trying to avoid any movement that would make the wet cloth rub against me, stop me forgetting that I was dressed as a baby, had used a diaper like one. She returned just after it had gone dark, the room lit now only by the TV. The door swung open and she stood there, smiled in delight at me, taking in the empty bottle, the pacifier dutifully in my mouth. I held my hands out towards her in a childlike beg for a cuddle, and she came over to give me a quick hug. "Good baby," she said, "Look at you all cute and adorable." Ignoring my sigh she continued brightly, "Come on, let's take you through and get you changed." Through? This was our room, where was she taking me through to? I followed her anyway, thick wet padding making me waddle, something on which she chose not to comment. I guess she was aware she'd hit my limits for the day, needed to be gentle now, couldn't push any further. She pushed further. She got away with it too, my arms secured above my head again before I realised, my waist strapped to what was clearly a changing table, sized for me. I'd been too stunned to resist, amazed at the new furniture in the room. The changing table, the shelves full of what looked like disposable diapers, piles of the same cloth ones I'd so unwillingly used and a crib, high wooden bars on a bed big enough for me to lie flat in. "Look at all your nice new furniture," she said, "Won't this be a lovely nursery for you for the next ten weeks." I pulled at the restraints on my hands this time, using all my strength, not caring whether it annoyed her or not. It didn't annoy her, because she'd been as efficient as always, and the struggling achieved nothing. I was trapped there, at her mercy. "Aww, little baby feeling grumpy?" she asked in a sing-song voice, "I know what the problem is." Yes, she was the problem. The evil vicious wench was getting me properly worried now. These punishments should be fun, at least in some form, and should be done quickly, transgressions forgiven, our relationship strengthened. She seemed to disagree. "Poor darling needs a nice clean diaper. Come on, let's get you out of this nasty wet one." The infantile chatter continued as she took that sodden nightmare off me, cleaned and dried my body and then, to my distress, put a clean one in its place. I could have protested, yelled, called her nasty things. She'd brought the gag with her though, had held it just above my head, made it clear that she was willing to use it again. The threat was enough; no matter what I said she would follow through with her threats, all of them. She always did. Defeated I lay there as she fastened the onesie, attached a chain to my wrists and used it to pull me into the crib, my strength maybe enough to resist but not enough to break free, let alone overpower her and escape. Instead I lay in the crib as she raised the side, trapping me in there, my hands still unavailable to me, unable to release the catch or remove my diaper. "Here," she said, passing me a stuffed toy, "Someone for you to sleep with." I looked at her and tears formed. She knew I wanted to sleep with her, not a cuddly animal. That forced separation would hurt me more than being treated as a baby, more than using my diapers, drinking from a bottle. "Maybe another night," she said, "if you're a good baby for me." She turned, left the room but didn't switch off the light, didn't close the door. I waited patiently for her return, hoping this must be a wind-up, that she'd be about to end it all for me. Of course she didn't. She hadn't acquired all this furniture, enlisted the help of friends to build it while I was watching TV, gone to the effort of a clean diaper and a crib for the night just to end it now. She'd just gone for another bottle, this one with cocoa in it, something to drink before I slept. As she left the room again she turned, a final stern gaze and a closing admonishment, "Goodnight, my baby. Maybe you'll think twice before being naughty next time." She was right, I would think twice. But I'd be naughty again; I'd know I shouldn't, but would anyway. The problem was, she knew too.

I get to choose how I'm constrained and restrained. I'm hardly reducing my own freedoms by consciously making the choice not to post further chapters of a story I've already completed. There is also no need for retaliation, creative or otherwise. Choosing not to do something is not retaliation.

Sounds like you're going to have a tough start to the week but it'll get you some useful assistance. I would suggest asking to be allowed to retain your doll, and let them take hold of it to check it - worse case, they just say no.

When someone says to keep it up and then compares themselves to someone in a position of authority over me they are going to be disappointed. My current manager knows better than to be so crass.

If this story gets no more chapters posted it'll be because I'm intentionally not going to obey someone telling me to keep it up.

Chapter 2 She'd tried to hide the soiled diaper, hadn't sought my help, didn't tell me about it in the morning. I even let her get out of bed first so that she could get dressed, didn't have to reveal whether or not she'd put a clean one on. I was amused to find that she had, had thrown it away unused; I saw it when I found the soiled one, confirmed that my plan had worked. We had a quiet day, I got on with some work and she watched TV, fussed on her computer. That night I asked her to wear another diaper, offered to help her with it, got rebuffed. "I don't need a diaper!" she claimed, "I didn't wet the bed last night." "That's great," I replied, "Only one from two so far then. Maybe it was a one-off, maybe you're fine, but please, humour me? Just a couple more nights." I didn't mention the used diaper she'd thrown away, her choice to wear one without me being there. I was still playing innocent, helpful, caring, and it worked. She agreed to the diaper, but insisted on putting it on herself. "While I do that, do you have a nightie I can borrow?" she asked, "That onesie is lovely but a real pain to get out of this morning." Suppressing my smile I reacted as she'd hope, indeed as she'd expect. "Oh! I think it's cute enough to be worth the effort, but sure, I'll go and find something for you." I called out from the hallway another element that would assure her continued descent, "Don't forget to add powder to your diaper!" What I found her was a simple cotton nightdress, a modern design, mid-thigh and comfortable. It suited my plans for the night anyway. I stood in her doorway, ignored her lying with her legs spread, fastening a plastic coated prison to herself, threw the nightdress onto the foot of the bed and told her, "I'm going to make some cocoa, it'll help me sleep. Do you want a mug?" I knew she'd say yes, had been distracting her from getting a drink all evening, made sure she'd welcome one now. I went to make them, added a secret ingredient to one mug, brought them both back upstairs. She was sat on the bed, diaper hidden beneath the nightdress, brushing her hair. I put my mug down as I entered the room, walked up and handed hers to her. "Here, drink this while I brush your hair. You need some pampering." She acquiesed and sat sipping her cocoa while we both enjoyed me giving her hair a good brush, leaving a silky sheen that would be wasted on sleep. Her hair was far too long for a baby but who could cut beautiful hair like this? I'd compromise on this one. Cocoa finished I left her to go to bed alone, took my own drink to my room and read a book for a while. The baby monitor told me she was breathing steadily but I was in no rush, knew she'd be out for hours. The sleeping draught in her cocoa was hard to overdose so I'd been generous, made certain. Eventually I went in, soft snoring confirming she was out. I shook her gently by the shoulder, then more forcefully. If she woke I'd tell her she was screaming, that I was worried, needed to wake her from a nightmare. She didn't wake. I left her sleeping on her side as I drew her nightdress up to her waist, revealing the diaper below. The caution to use powder had done the job; between her lack of practice fitting one to herself and the powder getting in the way, the tabs were barely attached, easily removed without damaging them or the diaper. I pulled the side she was sleeping on down, creased it beneath her, pulled the centre of the diaper a little out of position. It looked like she'd just failed to put it on properly, and it wasn't going to do its job worn like that. Not that she needed it to do its job. She wasn't going to wet it, would wake up dry and clean in the morning. Unless someone emptied a container of warm water onto the inside of her lower thigh, soaking the nightdress and bedding below it, then added another container of urine, this one mostly inside the diaper, assuring that unmistakeable odour to go with the unmissable wetness. I tugged her nightdress back into position, hiding the evidence, pulled the covers back over her and finally went to bed myself.