ImprobableLemon

Gen 5 gym leader Skyla really enjoys running around pretending to be an airplane

Velvette is considered the 'baby' of the Vee's

Here are some of the greatest hits since my last art drop. The daily art challenge for March continues

Today's word is shark. Another day another shark getting heckled on stream.

I think we can agree Merry's mommy-roommate has the right idea

Here we have days 1-4 of the March draw challenge being hosted on Twitter by Raya.

Power Girl from DC, including a non-diaper alt per the requester. Caught a cold and moving houses this week so expect posting to continue to be slow for a minute. Requests are open, post them in the comments or dm's.

The Dark Souls Emerald Herald, as requested by a Twitter friend. Requests are open, post them in the comments or dm's.

I'll add them to the list of characters to do! Here's a Twitter friend's OC, Lulu. She does amazing art and I commission her all the time.

Cassette Beasts Kuneko, requested by a friend on Twitter. If there's a character you want to see drawn hit me up in the dms or comments!

This will be the last 'finished' piece I release for a while. Going to focus efforts on doing a lot of sketching to improve, but they will be posted. If anyone has any character ideas or recommendations they would like drawn feel free to post them in the coments or dm me.

Alas voting has ended and Gardevoir won in a landslide. Gallade voters rejoice, there may be a picture in the works...

You can help the POV Trainer make the ultimate decision for Kirlia's evolution here.

Merry and Biblically Accurate Friend take a nap

Merry is a certified 'Big Girl', and she has proof.

Goth girl at it again, she's a great artist. Her name is Merry.

I hope you enjoy my foray into drawing. This thread will catalogue my doodles and sketches.

It's no trouble. Sorry you've had such a rough go of things, do take your time and recover at your own pace

The following story was created for 'The 3rd Kasarberang's NON-CONtest'. ______________________________________________________________________________________ “This will be the last time I stop by Leah… I miss you so, so much. But I need to go now.” “I… Hope that wherever you’ve gone is a better place.” “It’s just that my heart breaks at the thought that place is not with me-” “-and that I may never join you.” ~~~ A Succubus is said to be a feminine demon or supernatural entity that appears in the dreams of men to drain them of their ‘vitality’ to survive. At least, from a classic interpretation. Modern depictions tend to paint them as less demonic. Fun loving creatures looking to spread sin for sin’s sake. Popularized and made friendly for audiences of popular culture. The truth is that for as long as humanity has existed on this vast expanse of rock, so too have we. Our lustful physiques birthed from their mental energies, emotions, and desires. And unless we continue to consume the forces that gave us being, we will perish. We find ourselves in an evolution arms race against humanity to better feed off them. In more conservative eras and locales, Succubi would be born to cater to the demographic. Perhaps a Succubi dedicated to classical taboos; adultery, provocative clothing, or even (location depending) homosexual relations. In the modern era with the advent of fast convenient travel and the internet, Succubi are born even more specialized. Catering to specific niche interests, kinks, and fetishes which the spread of ideas has proliferated across the globe. Ours is a hierarchical society. Succubi born of kinks more mainstream or known throughout history are well respected and powerful, as they have general appeal. Those on the other end of the spectrum can have it rough. I would know. My specialization is ABDL. I am a Mommy-Dom. It was in the latter half of the 20th century that I came to be. Thrown into a cold and unforgiving world when enough humans had developed this kink. And while the appeal continues to grow with the internet, it is not mainstream enough to grant me the power or respect others wield. … It’s time to put this little self-reflection aside. There are more important things to focus on. Like finding a human. One to hold. To adore. To feed from and have feed from me. I’ve moped around like a lost puppy for a year and I’m more than a little starved. My leathery, black wings carry me through the warm nighttime sky of the mid-western United States. Perhaps I’ve picked a bad direction to head in… Or perhaps I’ve flown in circles. Despite having flown for what must have been half a day there’s still nothing in sight. Just the occasional house separating vast fields of corn and beans. Hmm... What I need is a… Aha! Off in the distance the first sparkles of city light reflect in my eyes. I zip down to the edge of the city. A quiet, desolate location to work on my appearance. Using the glass of an abandoned storefront I take inventory of my reflection. Obscuring much of my 6ft tall frame is a black dress that ends just above my knees. It’s strapless, so it shows off not only my toned tan legs, but also my arms and shoulders. The girls, my leaky 36DD breasts, rest secured in their lacy black strapless maternity bra. My black hair runs straight and down to my shoulders, bangs swept to the right. Eyes, currently a very dark brown. Of course, the dress has no back allowing my wings to come and go as I please. Below the dress my long, thin tail pokes out. It ends with a triangular point. And perhaps least impressively, my black and white tennis shoes. If anyone were to guess by looking at me, my age could range between mid-20’s to early 30’s. … Needing to look my best I smooth my hair over. Ensuring not a strand is out of place. A deep breath in, and then an exhale. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. With a quick hop, I’m back in the air. Going slow to avoid undoing my work. This time aiming for the city’s downtown. Flying through the city proper, I spot signs of another Succubus’ presence. Namely marked humans and buildings, signs that only we can see. It would seem a powerful one has claimed damn near the whole city as her territory. Following the signs leads me to an alleyway. The location she greets visitors. I land, gracefully, and step inside the dark hall. Wrapping my tail around my right leg and tucking my wings back as a submissive gesture. My shoes squelch on the damp pavement. The skittering sounds of pests in the trash and distant city noise my only company. I’m alerted by the sound of rustling chains. No longer am I alone. In the shadows I sense they’re ready to ensnare me at a moment’s notice. “For what purpose and with what tidings have you come here. To my domain.” A cold, unwelcoming voice calls out from above. With difficulty I can make out her form hovering silently in the overhead darkness. She’s shorter but far stronger than I. Inherently I can tell her specialty is Masochism. She’s a Sadist. S&M is a genesis kink; for as long as humans have existed so too have they found pleasure in pain. There’s is no telling how old the Succubus before me truly is. It could range in the thousands or greater. “Greetings, your grace. I am but a humble wanderer captivated by your city. Truly its sight is second only to you.” I stifle the dread and fear and pressure her presence instills. Then I take a respectful, slight bow and speak confidently with a silver tongue. She pauses. I feel her eyes burrow into the top of my head. “Hmph. You have manners on you. How long do you intend stay, wanderer.” Another question spoken in an unquestioning way. “Truthfully, I had given it no thought. If the sight of one such as I displeases you… I can be on my way.” “I see.” Her gaze pulls away as she mulls my response over. A breath I’d been holding escapes. Nearly a minute passes before she resumes speaking. “Your stay is permitted so long as you adhere to my rule and keep from my targets.” She doesn’t view me as a threat. One of the perks of not embodying a more popular kink. Or maybe one with power such as her can afford to feel pity or generosity, however slight. “I thank you wholeheartedly, your grace.” She was gone before I’d finished. Doubtless to partake in her definition of fun or defend what she’s deemed hers from less compliant Succubi. I exit the alley mightily pleased that ‘negotiations’ didn’t break down. Negative vibes shed from my mind now that the difficult part is over. Now is the time for shopping. ~~~ A quick peruse to get the lay of the land has made it quite clear that my darling host has picked clean the best this city has to offer. Her picking of all potential Masochists in the city has left me without easy targets. ABDL in some respects can be related to the humiliation aspects of Masochism, therefore allowing me an easy ‘in’. But it’s fine. It’s fine! I’ll still make this work, and hey, besides… I say cracking the egg is the most fun part of making the omelet. I just need the right person… The right egg… A beefy man? No. I prefer ladies and a meathead is no fun. A married woman? No, not my wheelhouse. A college student? Hm… There’s potential, but their schedules can put a damper on things. An older person? It could work but there’s an energy concern… And our time together would be rather short… While I observe the passersby on the street and rule them out, the ideal human starts taking shape in my mind. An adult woman ideally under 40, already established in a career with no relationship, preferably homosexual or bi. Most importantly she must not have already been selected by the city’s Succubus. My heart and breast ache in tandem at the thought of this perfect, mystery human. The mental image of them suckling and consuming a part of me as it goes to work inside them. Binding us together… … Focus. With a blink of my eyes my perception of vision shifts. The mental signatures of humans capable of fulfilling my criteria float about in a trail that will lead me right to them. I spot nine potential threads leading off in different directions throughout the city. ~~~ The four closest leads took me to apartments and a hotel where I could quickly gather information on the occupant. I am particularly picky, so none received passing marks. It may not be in Succubus nature, but I prefer to bond for life when able. Having exhausted the residential options in close proximity, the next lead takes me a bit aways to a long lane of businesses and eateries. Specifically, into an upscale Italian restaurant. That’s where I spot her. 5ft tall. In her late twenties. Long dark brown hair tied up into a ponytail. Glasses over her green eyes. Average build on the thinner side with a smaller albeit noticeable bust. She looks like she just got off work, wearing a tailored dark grey suit with slacks and loafers. Seems business oriented. Probably working in management. The read I get on her mental energies is very mature and adult. However, there’s something buried beneath. A certain lost sadness. And a string to unravel. The kind of thing I love to see in a target so seemingly mature. She’s perfect. Physically the spitting image of my type. Mentally something to work with, something to nurture. She needs me. I am enthralled. With my inherent presence masking I walk in undetected and stand close to her. It’s all I can do to not place a hand on her shoulder. Instead, I listen in on her mind, grasping at her active thoughts as they spill forth. [Another wasted Friday night… Hopefully they bring the check soon.] My fixation on her breaks and for the first time I look at the table. She’s on a date. A man seated directly opposed to her prattles on excitedly. Snatching glimpses at her barely exposed bosom. Glimpses she clearly takes note of. [Going to need a smoke before I catch a ride home.] Ooh an oral fixation. And a convenient chance to catch up with her... My how the stars align! The date ends without much fuss or flair. She nods her head and smiles lightly when appropriate. He offers to pay for their meal, but she firmly pays her own way. While she informs him that she had a lovely time she dodges the attempt at a hug before departing. Alone, purse in hand. I watch as she walks down to the end of the street where she stands near an ashtray at a designated smoking area. Needing to prepare, I stop by the alley next to the restaurant. Quickly I become visible, hide the tail and wings, manifest a large purse (my diaper bag), and exit. Now heading in her direction. As I draw closer, I feel her attention shift from her cigarette to me. Her eyes lingering around my bust and thighs which peek out above and below my outfit. [Damn. I wish I’d gone out with her instead.] The stray thought pulls a smirk out of me. We can make that want a reality. Now within earshot I call out to her in a playfully sarcastic tone. “No one ever told you that smoking is bad for pretty little things like you?” Her eyes widen slightly in surprise as she plucks the cigarette from her mouth and knocks ashes into the tray’s sand. “I suppose I didn’t hear it enough. You work with kids?” A question directed at me; she’s interested. Taking notice of the large pastel pink bag around my shoulder and attributing my words to my profession. “You could say that. I actually just got off the clock doing some late nannying. What about yourself?” “I manage the marketing team for the city’s tourism initiatives. Got off late and had a bit of a dinner thing.” Aha, I knew she looked the managerial type. “Wow, really? I’m new ‘round here. Perhaps sometime you could show me around or give me a recommendation on a place to grab a drink.” She takes a long drag of her cigarette. Thinking. [Should I invite her out now? Wasn’t going to do much but maybe drink at home anyway.] Hearing this little conflicted thought I continue and give her a slight nudge. “Actually, I’m feeling a little thirsty now…” I say, adding a slightly sultry tone to my voice. A powerful hint that is not lost on her. Her nearly spent cigarette gets extinguished into the ashtray’s sand. And she blows a plume of smoke away from us. “You know what? I could go for something too. Want to join me Ms…” She trails off. Her cheeks tinge red at the realization that we’ve yet to exchange names. I chuckle and answer. “My name is Lilith.” She smiles and puts out a hand that I shake. “You can call me Eve.” ~~~ “Myyy god, you’re shhooo good at drinking!” “Oh, I don’t know about that. Good company helps it go down quicker.” We’ve been knocking back drinks for more than an hour now. Shots, beer, mixed drinks. A bit of everything. She’s pushed herself to match me drink for drink. I can taste it. However, I couldn’t feel a buzz if I tried. Eve on the other hand… She’s told me a fair bit about herself as her inhibitions have weakened. Both in conversation and in mind. · She’s alone in an apartment [her ex moved out three years ago]. · She really likes this bar [the drinks are cheap]. · Her work is going well [personal life not so much; hard time finding friends or ‘good’ dates]. · From age 10 she all but raised her younger siblings [she doesn’t see her family much anymore]. · She complimented my dress [she enjoys the view of my tits]. While the last point made me happy to hear… The second to last point piqued my interest. It must be the ‘something extra’ buried in her. My instincts were on the money, she’s the one for me. Polishing off the last of her amber drink, Eve places the glass down and calls it. Wincing at the burn as it slides down her throat. “I thinkkkk I’m good to go. Come with?” [Please let her come!] “Of course. We’ll go back to yours.” My hand moves from our table and lightly rests on her thigh. Tracing up her leg and ending at her lower body. Her face flushes pink. While she’s aroused, I detect a hint of dissatisfaction that she didn’t take initiative. “I-I’ll get our tab.” Eve’s already digging around her purse for her card. I stand and carefully pull her chair from the table. Then I bend at the waist and whisper into her ear. “Already paid dear, lets head out.” Shuddering despite herself she stands up quickly. Now adding embarrassment on top of arousal. I drink the feelings up. Making her feel small is helping tune it to something more filling for me. Eve takes the lead. Grabbing my hand and leading us out of the bar. “My apartmench’s jus a few blocks away. S’ not a bad walk.” While the woman’s speech contains the occasional drunken slur of her words, her motor skills seem no worse for wear. As we parade on to her abode, I am treated to the turbulent thoughts in her head. [What was with that smooth move she pulled?] [No one’s ever done anything like that to me…] My mouth contorts into a slight smile as we walk. It’s all I’m able to manage without it taking up my entire face. Despite her conflicted thoughts she’s able to play it cool externally. Pointing out some of the other establishments she frequents on the street and what businesses the tourism initiative places emphasis upon. We arrive at a large complex with multiple gated entrances. From her purse Eve produces a key fob which she places onto a thick albeit fancy metal gate. She swings it open, holding the door for me. We’re basically in an alley, with apartment doors on the left and right. I’m led three doors down on the left where she takes a key on the same ring as the fob and unlocks the door. We place our shoes on a rack, and I get a good look at the place. It’s a one-bedroom apartment with the kitchen being the first area you enter. It has an island with stools and all other modern amenities. Next to the entryway door is a large glass sliding door, behind which is a washer and dryer with related supplies. There’s a long L-shaped couch with its back to the kitchen facing a coffee table and a TV. To the left of the couch, taking up both living room and kitchen space, is a small 4-person dining table. There’s a door at the far end of the room next to the TV. True to her earlier thoughts, I see no evidence of her family on the walls. In fact, the apartment is devoid of personal belongings. “Don’t mind the mess, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” “What, it’s spotless!” I say incredulously. Not a spec of dirt in the entryway, a crumb in the kitchen, or a pillow out of place in the living room. She does live here… Right??? “How about I show you to the bed…” Once more my hand is in hers as she pulls me through the apartment to the door on the other side of the room. Her bedroom consists of a king-sized bed, a sliding door closet, a night table with lamp on one side, and a dresser with 4 shelves and a mirror on top directly opposite the bed. There’s another open door to the left that leads to a bathroom. We’re barely in the room before Eve’s stripping away her clothing. Leaving herself in just a set of light grey cotton panties and sports bra as she sits seductively on the bed. I place my diaper bag on the floor. As I sit on the edge of the bed, she pounces on me. I allow myself to be pinned down. One of her hands is supporting her upper body while the other fondles my breasts. Her knee is pressed between my legs. And her mouth is pressed against mine in a deep kiss. For a petit girl, she’s full of energy. [Oh fuck! Oh god~] Our lips separate as she sits up to catch her breath before going in for more. I stop her, my hands on her shoulder. She’s had a taste, but now it’s time to work. “Before we continue Eve, do you need to use the potty?” My tone of voice deathly serious. She looks at me incredulously. “Hah, no I don’t need to ‘use the potty’.” “Okay, just thought I’d make sure before we start.” Eve shrugs, quickly putting my strange question aside, and presses her body into mine. My hand cups her cheek, my mouth just inches from hers. I speak again. “Sleep.” Her body goes limp at my command. Her head falling fully into my hand. Carefully I pick her up off me and place her onto the bed. Many other Succubi would take this opportunity to make her into whatever they want. Perhaps mind control into thinking she’s always wanted whatever they’d planned for her. But that’s no fun and unnecessary. She is the one I want. Not a mindless puppet. I yank my dress down enough to reveal my strapless maternity bra in its entirety. The outer layer of the bra’s left cup pulls down revealing bare breast. A bead of milk from my swollen nipple drips onto the bed. Carefully I maneuver her such that I’m cradling her torso in my arms. It only takes a little toying with her slumbering, susceptible mind before she’s dreaming that she’s puffing away on a cigarette. Her lips pucker in response. Holding her close to the nipple is all it takes for her to begin sucking away. My warm milk entering her little tummy and getting to work. Fuck it feels so good. Her warmth in my arms. The warm little breaths from her nose on my breasts. The sensation of her mouth around my areola and tongue on my nipple. How I’d missed this so. Looking down I can’t help but admire how utterly adorable she is… Gone is the adult I’d entertained just minutes prior… She’s a baby. My baby. And soon enough she’ll come to know it as well. If I have my way her ass is going to be calling me Mommy before the weekend is through. She’ll be draining both breasts every night. She needs this. I know she does. Just as much as I do. I feel myself grow wet at my own racing thoughts. My breath quickens. My entire body feels electrically charged. … A glimpse of what sight reflects in the mirror opposite the bed stops me in my tracks. My transformation’s undone. My wings are arched back in ecstasy and my tail is winding down her arm. I need to calm down. It’s been a while since the last time, but I need to stop. I won’t lose against these starving, instinctual urges. I will not hurt her. Having regained control my physical Succubus traits recede. The overpowering Mommy Dom haze retreats to the edges of my mind. Any more milk and the effect will be too strong too soon. She needs to build up a tolerance otherwise I’ll baby brain her. The last thing I want. With an audible pop I pull her away. A string of transparent-white milk mixed spittle runs from my nipple to her lips. With a chuckle I wipe it away. She only took a few gulps. But it’s all that’s needed for my milk to start doing its job. She’s marked and we’re connected now, Eve and me. Our bond aside, the milk will make her a little malleable and compliant tomorrow, but not overly so. Just enough to ease her into things. And… A slight hiss and trickle sound fills the quiet room. Her panties go dark as urine spills out past the thin cotton and onto the bed sheets. “Tsk tsk, I thought you said you didn’t have to use the potty…” I say aloud to no one, all the while smiling to myself. Once off the bed I bend down to the floor and grab the diaper bag. I reach a hand in and grab exactly what I need. An adorable pair of brightly colored training pants. Purple all over with pink, red, and blue flowers decorating the front and back with fade-when-wet designs along the legs. Unceremoniously I de-panty the soaked girl. Using powder and wipes, also from the bag, to clean her up for beddy time. My hand gestures up and the girl floats a few inches above the bed. Enough room for me to strip the bed of its sheets. Those go in the washer. With a little digging in her closet, I find a spare blanket to wrap around the two of us. With all business tended to; I pull the outer layer of my left cup back up, readjust my dress, and lay down next to her for the night. I pull her smaller body into mine. With much glee I give her bottom a crinkly pat before wrapping the arm around her. ~~~ Needless to say, I didn’t sleep a wink… Not that I need to. My excitement for the morning and her reaction was high all night. At 9am I finally got my wish as the smaller girl I’ve been spooning began to rustle around in my arms. “Aaahhnn…” “Good morning sleepy head.” In response to her yawn, I offer a playful greeting. “Good morning, I uh hope I didn’t keep you from getting up.” “It’s no problem, I like to lay about on weekend mornings anyway.” Eve nods her head in understanding. I lift the arm still draped over her and she rolls out of my grasp. With this newfound freedom she stretches, and her body audibly creaks and cracks in places. As she moves and shifts her legs a confused expression takes shape on her face. She tosses the blanket aside and stares down at the garment I changed her into last night. “Wh… What!? What the hell am I wearing!?” [Is that a diaper!?] “Sweetie, do you remember what happened last night?” I speak in a concerned and apologetic tone. Her head swivels to me. She opens her mouth about to retort but stops, thinking. “No… I remember the kiss and then nothing.” “Well sometime last night after sex, I woke up to you having a little accident. You were out of it, so I cleaned you up and put you in one of the spare pull-ups from my bag just to be safe.” “You’re kidding, I-I’ve never done anything like that! There’s no way! I… I-” Her voice rises slightly. The emotions she’s giving off are a mix of embarrassment, denial, and anger. I breath them in deeply. All part of the process. Then I place a reassuring hand atop hers. “Baby, baby, it’s okay, shhh… You just had a lil too much to drink, it happens to big girls all the time.” “I… Uh… W-Where did you put the sheets…?” My words and tone help a little. Her emotions cool down; still there but just lessened. Her reaction fills me with joy. She’s too frazzled to object to being talked to like a child that had one bad night of potty training. “In the washer, I didn’t start it since it was too late for the noise.” Quickly she hops off the bed and scurries into the other room. My eyes home in on her adorably padded rear as it moves with her steps. I notice something right away that she’s yet to realize. Following her I see she’s thrown open the washer. A frown on her face and her brow crinkled. [Oh my god… It does smell like piss. What the fuck…] Acting as though she wasn’t confirming the state of her sheets, she pulls out a detergent pod from a shelf and gets the laundry started. I sneak up behind her and just as the laundry starts, I place a hand near the rear of her training pants. Almost between her legs. My hand cups the cloth-esque garment with a slight squish rather than a crinkle. The flowers are mostly faded from the design. “Eep!” She squeaks, jumping forward, before turning back to face me with a surprised look. I point down to her disposable underwear and fill my voice with faux sympathy. “Oh Eve, I think it was more than just the one accident last night.” Her hand shoots down to the crotch of her pull-up. Feeling the sodden garment for herself. Her face burns red in embarrassment. [I-I-I am not wearing a p-pissy pull-up in front of a date!] She stands quiet and still, shocked by the revelation. I act fast and push her along through the apartment by her shoulders. “Here, how about you take a nice hot shower and get cleaned up. Hm?” I lean down and whisper gently into her ears. Rubbing her shoulders gently as we go. Her body melts in my grip. And a feeling of relief crosses my nose. “Y… Yeah. Thanks, Lilith.” I drop her off at the bathroom and close the door behind her. Shortly after the water comes on, I get to work. A Mommy’s work is never done after all. I’ve got to put together an outfit for her. Out of my bag comes another flowery pull-up. I throw open her closet and start digging through her muted color wardrobe. Dress pants, jeans, khakis, etc. It isn’t until buried and hidden near the end of the rack, that I find a black knee-length skirt. Bingo. That goes next to the pull-up. Just in time because the sound of water ceases. Eve’s quick shower has come to an end. She steps out of the bathroom and seems almost shocked to see me sitting on the bed. “Oh, I... I thought you’d have left.” [Who would want to stick around for a grown woman that pisses herself after drinking too much?] “I’ve seen worse than this at work, silly girl. Besides you promised we’d hang this weekend and go out today!” I speak cheerily and excitedly at the prospect. It’s important to put her at ease that I’m unbothered by her lapse in control. This is the start of a precedent that should repeat several times today as the milk wrecks her potty training. Eve seems momentarily confused, clearly not remembering this fictitious promise. Her mind fills the gaps and ultimately, she accepts my words as truth. “Uh, okay. We can do that if you’re still interested then… Let me just get dressed first.” “I’ll let you get to it then! Though, Eve, I didn’t want to say anything but… I think you should wear another one of my pull-ups out today.” “Wait, what!? What are you talking about, I’m not going out in a fucking diaper!” With her tone raised she looks at me as though I’ve just grown a second head. I pick up the garment and hold it outstretched, putting it on display. “Oh Eve, it’s not a diaper, it’s a pull-up. And I wouldn’t have brought this up except you did have two accidents last night.” “I-I no! It wasn’t my fault!” “I know sweetie, I know. Maybe you had a bad reaction to a drink last night and you’re still processing it. Shouldn’t we plan ahead for that?” We stand in silence for a moment. I can see her process my words. Her eyes shifting from me to the childish padded panties in my hand. Ultimately, she shakes her head in defeat, giving in. “Yeah. Maybe it was all just something I drank… Okay. Alright, you win…” In these situations, I tend to. “I’ll leave you to it!” Cheerfully I place her pull-up into her waiting hands and step out into the living room. Closing the door behind me. While sitting on the couch I enjoy the thoughts Eve puts out. [Christ this is so much thicker than panties.] [Maybe I can get away with a pair of jeans…] [Fuck, you can totally tell I’m wearing training pants!] [Ugh, I really don’t want to wear the skirt…] Despite the groaning, moments later she steps out wearing the skirt and a dark grey polo. “That skirt really shows off your legs!” “I’m not a big fan of skirts. I don’t consider myself the type, I guess.” “Well, I think you look wonderful. How about some breakfast?” “I… Sounds good, there’s a pancake place around the corner. We can walk.” ~~~ Our long breakfast concluded with no major incident. I did take several opportunities to treat her rather childishly. Wiping her face with a napkin. Asking what she was going to get and then ordering for her. Discreetly asking if she needed the potty on our way out, she claimed not to [because she is an adult and doesn’t need a reminder]. Each time she would blush in the most adorable manner and look away to keep me from noticing all the while saying that I didn’t need to do that. The earlier outburst over her underwear aside, my milk seems to have been effective. It’s just before noon and Eve has called an Uber to take us to a botanical garden she enjoys. It turned out to be a short 10-minute drive out of the city. As we step out the car, I must admit that I’m quite impressed. Right next to the parking lot is a massive wood and stone building. To the right of that is a large pond, between the two is a walkway. A group of 5 geese peck about the grass nearby. “That’s the visitor center, they used to hold environmental talks and events there.” Eve gestures to the building I had noticed as we walk past into the park proper. “Ooh that sounds fun, I’d loved to have gone.” “And keep your eyes peeled around the edge of the pond.” “Hm? What do you- Oh!” Just as I had begun to ask, I spotted movement in the water at the edge of the pond. A massive koi fish. No, several. All in color mixtures ranging from white, red, and brown. “Aren’t they amazing? There are 2 other ponds here, but this is the only one with koi.” “They really are! I’m so lucky to have such an amazing and cute tour guide.” While speaking I quickly snatch up her hand and pull her body into mine teasingly. She blushes and pulls away… But continues to hold my hand. The second pond links up diagonally to the one near the entrance. Bushes blooming beautiful purple flowers dot the entrance to a bridge leading over the small patch of grass separating the ponds. “Look, turtles!” Eve points excitedly. A few feet away from the bridge, on an artificial log, are a group of 5 turtles. Sunning themselves in the warm weather. “They certainly look cozy. Maybe we should grab a log and see what the fuss is about.” “Ha, I think we should leave it to the turtles.” Past the bridge, further up the path we reach a crossroads. Eve pulls me to the right. “The last lake is in the other direction, but we should go this way first. I’m a bit thirsty and there’s a fountain.” True to her word off in the distance I see a set of water fountains in front of a brick building (bathroom) to the right of the path. There’s a tall, short, and even a pet fountain. On the left I see a gazebo surrounded by tall bushes with hanging baskets and vines surrounding it. The trail continues into the woods. Dropping my hand, she walks to the fountain and takes a long drink. I partake as well though just for appearances and to enjoy the sensation. “Come over here.” Eve says, after finishing her drink. She ushers me forward towards the gazebo. The shade of which offers respite from the glaring summer sun. Aside from the entrances on either side, it is a rather private. The plants offering coverage from anyone away from the entrance. I take a seat next to her on the bench that runs along the walls. After placing a hand on hers I speak genuinely. “This may be one of the nicest parks I’ve seen. Thanks for showing me.” “I’m glad you like it! It’s… You’re actually the first person I’ve brought here.” [Not even my ex came here.] “Wow you really know how to make a girl feel special!” “I don’t know… You just… It’s weird…” Eve stammers, as if not knowing where she’s going with this. Her mind is a bit of a jumble as well, her inner thoughts are just as choppy. Since we’ve sat down her knees have been bouncing, and her legs shifting between crossed and un-crossed. The girl is unconsciously antsy, but not from the words she’s yet to say. The movement stops and I’m certain of the reason. “Sorry to interrupt but you’ve been doing the potty dance, Eve. Do you need the potty?” “No, Lilith! Why do you keep asking like I’m some kind of-of… Oh! I-Yes!” She stands up quickly and carefully. Holding herself as she exits the gazebo and walks towards the bathroom across the path. There are 3 doors each with a sign. Men, woman, family. Before she can move to the Woman’s room, I steer her towards the family bathroom and open the door for her. I step inside and lock the door behind us. Eve hikes her skirt up to pull her training pants down. Unveiling the soaked garment to me. All patterns faded, and hanging down as far as it can stretch from the weight. A wonder it’d not been visible from under her skirt. Looking very much the role of a toddler that made it to the potty too late. In a way that warms my heart and pleases me. “Oh dear, you’re absolutely soaked…” I say in a voice full of sympathy. “What!? I haven’t even-“ Just as her retort began, it ended. Her eyes go wide and her body still. The familiar sound of trickling liquid fills the bathroom. And while perhaps her drenched padding could handle some more, it clearly could not handle the coming flood. Her pee dribbles out past the leak guards, running down her legs and into her socks and shoes. Mortified, her accident continued for half a minute, dumping the last of her morning’s beverages past her pull-up onto her lower half. [W-What did I… Again? In front of Lilith!?] Sniff. Sniff. Her small body shakes pitifully and wracks with silent sobs as she tries to hold back tears. Despite being part of the plan and energizing me, my heart aches at the sight. I rush forward. Embracing the girl in a tight hug. She attempts to push away and shouts in surprise, momentarily forgetting her misery. “N-No, don’t! You’ll get it on you!” “That’s not for you to worry about, Eve. Everything is going to be okay. Just let Lilith take care of everything.” She again willingly cedes control to me. Now rather than decide a course of action for her it’s to physically take care of the problem itself. I gently lower her down onto a changing pad from my diaper bag. Carefully to create as little mess as possible, I remove the bottom half of her outfit including her padded panties. Immediately her hands hover over her exposed bits. An attempt to obscure my view. I detect shame amongst her largely embarrassed feelings. I chuckle a bit and speak softly, intending to put the girl at ease. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Move those hands up sweetie.” At my prompting she slowly raises her hands to cover her eyes. The wipes come out of the bag, and I get to work cleaning her private area. Adding some pleasurable maneuvers into the mix. She quickly becomes wet in a different sense, and the way she bites her lip as she attempts to ignore the pleasure is not lost on me. [O-Oh, not there! Not l-like that! It-It feeels sho…] Teasing aside, I finish up and work on the lower bits. A fresh wipe for each leg and her feet. Then I stand her back up. I kneel on the floor and dig in the bag a final time. Out comes a plastic bag to store her ruined clothing, a pull-up, clean skirt, and sandals all sized for her. “Left leg sweetie.” I hold the pull-up open and wait in front of the small girl. She grabs my shoulder for balance and lifts a leg as requested. With ease I thread it through the proper hole. “Last but not least, the right.” The other leg is up and through the hole in record time. As I rise off the ground, I slowly bring the training pant up her legs with me. Before it’s snugly wrapped around her bottom. I pass her the skirt and shoes before getting to work bagging her old outfit and cleaning up the floor where pee droplets fell. By the time I finish she’s dressed and flushed in embarrassment and arousal from my playing. But along with that are hints of gratefulness and affection. The negativity she felt at the start of the accident is a thing of the past. All in all, I’d say the first successful public change of many to come. Not that she needed to know that right now. “See, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” “N-No, I.. I can’t thank you enough… You didn’t have to…” “You’re more than welcome and it was no trouble! Now how about we sit back down, and we continue where we left off?” She nods gratefully in agreement, and we exit the bathroom. Leaving it as we entered albeit with a heaver trash bag. We sit back at the gazebo and Eve speaks more certainly than when she left off. Now feeling more certain and less distracted by her bodily needs. “It might be weird to say this but… So far, this weekend has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time.” [Even if I’ve pissed myself more than ever in my adult life.] She thinks the quiet part out loud. “Aw, I’m glad you’re having a good time because I am as well.” “Really it just feels so easy to talk to you. Like I’ve known you forever despite it only being like a day and a half... You… Have this way about you. I feel safe…” My left arm wraps around her shoulder and gives her other side a gentle pat. While I’d suspected and hoped that she’d begun to feel this way, hearing it aloud fills my heart with joy. “You deserve that, everyone does.” “Thanks for saying that but I probably haven’t felt this way since I was a little girl…” “Why is that, Eve? You’re more than welcome to tell me more about yourself, but I understand if it’s too painful a subject.” I want her to talk about it, but when the subject came up she started putting out a knot of tangled emotions. If I pull too hard on this she could close off. And I care too much to do that to her. “Mom, Dad, and I visited this place all the time when I was young. When it was just us. We… We were happy. The park… And you remind me of better times.” “And then you got a lot of responsibility when you were ten.” I say recalling our bar conversation from last night. She nods. “My first sibling came when I was five, but then twins came when I was eight. It was hectic, my parents couldn’t really afford a babysitter, so eventually I was put in charge while they worked all day into the late evening. Then to save money we moved away from the city... So, I couldn’t come here anymore.” “I’m so sorry sweetie… That’s a lot of responsibility to drop on someone so young.” “Yeah… And I haven’t really forgiven them yet. I guess that makes me a bit of a bad person, huh?” “No, of course not! You were hurt and you lost a very important time of your life. Nothing you’re feeling is wrong.” [That’s what the therapists have said… But it feels more validating coming from her…] Eve leans into my side hug. Resting her head against my breast. “That means a lot, thank you.” We sit in silence looking at nothing in particular. Me rhythmically rubbing her arm. Her listening in on the beat of my heart. I want this moment to last forever, and I believe she feels the same. As I’m struck with this feeling so too does melancholy creep in. The sensations and feelings, while overwhelmingly pleasant and amazing, act as reminders. How I’d felt this like this before, three times now. Perhaps it shows on my face, because Eve speaks again. As she peers up from her spot next to me. “I want to know more about you too, and if something’s bothering you… The least I can do is hear you out after dumping so much on you today.” I couldn’t possibly. “I… It’s been about a year since I lost something of my own. A someone.” But it comes out anyway. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Lilith. You’ve done a lot for me already, if there’s anything I can do…” She’s sweet. I made the right choice with her that much is clear. “Thank you, sweetie, but I’m alright. Something about today just dredging up memories.” “Yeah… I know what you mean.” The silence resumes, somehow more comfortable than the last. As we enjoy each other’s physical presence in calming comfort. ~~~ “I don’t know about this…” “Come on, you’re going to look adorable! And I promise nobody is going to judge you for anything you wear.” Picking up the mood, I’ve dragged Eve along to the mall. Our next and final date location of the day. On the car ride over I was able to convince her into trying on some clothes outside her typical style as a form of retail therapy. A way to reclaim or experience the youth she’d never truly had. Standing in front of the changing room now, it seems that some second thoughts are creeping in. However, her trust in me outweighs her concerns. And she doesn’t know it, but I’ve used a little Succubus trick to reduce our perception at the changing room. Nothing will seem out of place to any potential watchers. “Okay, fine! But you better not give me anything too weird!” “Of course, sweetie. I’ll keep it only a little weird as requested.” An overly exaggerated groan is her only reply. I start off easy on her. Handing over t-shirts and pants in colors not seen in her drab collection. An easy way to initially break her out of her overly adult style. [Honestly it does look kind of cute… Maybe she’s right.] It only takes a little praise and encouragement before such thought fill her head as she’s trying on more colorful clothing. And looking absolutely adorable all the while if I may add. While spinning to get the full view of the outfit it was quite easy to see the waistband of her padded undies peeking over top of whatever pants she tried on. Easy outfits down, it’s time to start upping the ante. Now with outfits from the diaper bag, not the store. “Here, try this.” She takes the pile I pass in exchange for the last few she’d finished showing off. Once more her arms disappear behind the changing room’s door. I’m pleasantly surprised by a lack of vocal or mental grumbling. And eventually the curtain opens to unveil a blushing Eve in a frilly pink miniskirt and matching pink camisole. “Um, I don’t think I could wear this outside… But what do you think…?” “I think you’re the cutest woman in the mall and it’s not even a contest!” Her blush spreads at the praise as she spins around. With the skirt being so small I’m granted a perfect view of her pull-up. A few stars are missing. In my expert opinion she’s dry enough for now. The door closes and it’s not long before it opens again with Eve in the next outfit of the ‘advanced pile’. This time her small frame is covered by a pair of pastel purple overall-shorts and a white shirt with a series of pastel flowers sewn onto the left breast. “I don’t know… I think I like it but… You can definitely see something’s off with my butt.” She’s thrown a glance over her shoulder to the mirror on the wall behind. Her hand rubbing her puffy posterior inquisitively. “You mean it’s really good at showing off your assets! No one would suspect that you’re wearing protection and it’s not even noticeable.” [You know what, she’s right. My ass looks great in these.] A small white lie, it’s very noticeable. But she doesn’t seem to realize or care. Rather she’s emboldened by my words. “I think there’s two more left, but then we should get back to my place. We could order pizza or something.” “That sounds lovely!” With a smile she closes the door and begins stripping and throwing on the next outfit. My own excitement begins to rise at the knowledge of the last outfit. With how simple it is to put on the next outfit I didn’t have to wait long for the door to open and Eve to display herself. This time she’s in a grey cat themed footed sleeper. Due to its baggy nature her underwear is for the moment safe from prying eyes. “Meow!” She lifts her hands in a mock cat pose, smiling to herself. “What a pretty little kitty, lets make her even more catlike…” Stepping close I reach to the back of her neck where the hood’s bunched up. Once it’s in hand I flip it over her head revealing the outfit’s cat ears. She turns to face the mirror and laughs. The sound of which is music to my ears. “I can’t believe the store even had this!” Well, it didn’t. But she doesn’t need to know that. “Alrighty, one more to go and then we’ll go ourselves.” Eve disappears back into the changing room and the door closes behind her. It isn’t long before I start to pick up her confused thoughts along with some quiet muttering. [How does this work? I can’t get the buttons right…] My fist gently knocks on the door as I call out to her. “Sounds like there’s a little trouble in there. Need some help?” “Uh… Yeah, come on in.” With that only slightly hesitant invitation I enter the changing room and shut the door behind me. Eve’s standing in the corner outside line of sight from anyone looking through the door while it opened. She has the pastel yellow snap-crotch onesie on, but the buttons are horribly mismatched. “I think I see the problem.” “It’s a really cute bodysuit, I love the daisy and bee pattern! The buttons are a bit inconvenient though…” Uh huh, a bodysuit. She’s too precious. “It’s for a better fit, it can be a bit easier to have a lil help with them.” That said I kneel down and unsnap all the buttons. I lift up the front flap and get a close look at the state of her pull-up. Much damper than even a few outfits ago. She should make it back home, but she’ll need a change then. With practiced ease I thread the two flaps between her legs and snap the buttons into their appropriate match. As I stand back up I give the front panel of her training pants a quick pat over the onesie as a finishing flourish. As Eve inspects herself in the mirror I step behind and rest my hands on her shoulders. She relaxes back into my grasp as she runs a hand around the fabric that clings well to her body. [It’s comfortable, I feel nice.] “This was a good pick, Lilith. Though I kind of think I’d need pants with this, haha.” “Of course, I think the overall shorts would work great. Let’s try that.” Taking my advice, she allows me to assist her into the overalls. She’s cute as a button. And somehow the pastel purple of the shorts matches rather well with the pastel yellow of the onesie. It’s the kind of color pattern you’d see on a little girl like her. “Alright, it’s your turn now!” “Hm?” Rather than admire herself in the mirror, Eve instead gives me a mischievous look. “I’ve tried on so many clothes, I want you to try something I pick out for you at least once before we go!” “Sneaky girl, I bet the buttons were just a ploy to get me in here.” “Yeah, now you wait here, and I’ll be right back!” [I’d have figured them out eventually.] She bolts out of the changing room, leaving me alone. I’m not left waiting long however, because a few short minutes later a satisfied looking Eve reenters the room. Perhaps she saw whatever it was that she grabbed when we entered the store. “Here you go, I think you’re going to look great in this!” “Thanks, I can’t wait to see what you picked out for me.” Once the clothing is in hand, I give it a once over. Baggy ripped jeans and a baggy t-shirt with a wide neckline. Sort of a grunge look; must be a style she enjoys on others. Without waiting for her to leave I begin to wiggle out of my strapless dress in a seductive manner. As the dress pulls down it takes my bra down with it just far enough to give the currently captivated Eve a look at my leaking nipples. [Oh… Oh my god! Is-Is that…] Not caring to cover my breasts I step into the pants one leg at a time. While bent over in Eve’s direction I give her a good show as I slowly pull the jeans up to my hips. Her eyes hardly leave my boobs. Her mind is a mess of thoughts. So much so that I can’t grasp a single one. But the emotions she’s putting out are an overwhelming amount of arousal. By the time I readjust ‘the girls’ and get the shirt on Eve is bright red. I give the final outfit a quick look in the mirror. It’s honestly not bad, she picked out a pretty good one. The holes in the jeans are substantial enough around the knee to show off a good amount of leg. And the wide neckline of the shirt shows a tasteful amount of cleavage. Finished admiring myself I turn to Eve and ask her opinion. “What do you think?” “I-I think you’re beautiful! Holy shit…” “Aw you’re too sweet, you picked out a really good outfit!” “Thanks, I knew it’d suit you perfectly.” “How about we wear our outfits out.” “Oh? Um… Yeah, sure!” A flicker of hesitation crosses her, but a quick gaze at my figure stops any naysaying thoughts. “And don’t worry about paying for yours because I’ve already bought em’. I knew you’d be too cute in them to put them back.” “You didn’t have to do that! Thank you, Lilith, seriously.” Overflowing with sincere gratitude the girl wraps her arms around me in a hug that I eagerly reciprocate. One hand around her back while the other cups her puffy bottom. “It’s nothing sweetie, now how about we get back to yours and enjoy the evening.” ~~~ Leaving our long day out behind us we step back into Eve’s apartment. Well, I step in. She more waddles in. Her pull-up is no doubt close to bursting and with the onesie and overalls pulling the garment closer to her body, it’s forcing her into a wider gait. “Want to wait a bit on that pizza? Maybe chill on the couch and watch some shows?” Made all the more adorable by the fact that she doesn’t seem to notice or care in the slightest. “That sounds good to me, lets get you fixed up first.” “Fixed up? What do you mean?” She looks at me confused. In response I bend down and cup the crotch of her pants. Throughout the day she’s only grown more comfortable with my motherly actions, in no small part due to her ‘drink’ last night and our bonding today. It’s now culminated in her not even batting an eye at this. From my position I give a slight squeeze and through the fabric of her overalls and onesie an audible squelch can be heard that even Eve notices. Her cheeks grow pink at what it implies. “You’re very wet, we need to get your little soggy bottom changed.” “O-Oh, okay. I… Uh guess.” [I guess the training pants aren’t too bad, but it’s going to be nice to get into panties after this] As I lead her over to the living room, I chuckle to myself at her thoughts regarding her predicament. The only panties she’s going to be seeing for the foreseeable future are my own. I help her down to the floor and take my place by her feet. “Upsie daisy.” At my prompting she lifts her bottom off the floor so I can slide the changing pad under her rear and take off her overalls. Once the onesie is unbuttoned and flipped away, the perforated sides of the pull-up rip with ease. The thoroughly used garment goes into a plastic bag for disposal. Once we get her a diaper genie this will be so much simpler and convenient. Gently I wipe down Eve’s most intimate area. Going into every nook and cranny of her private parts. Despite her best efforts a slight moan escapes her throat. Her eyes gaze at me hungrily as she watches me work between her legs. Right on the cusp of completion I pull back, depositing the used wipes into the used pull-up bag. “Mmm!” A groan of complaint. The poor baby. I reach into the bag and pull out an adult diaper and powder. The diaper is a Little Kings to be specific. My personal favorite diaper to come out of the community. Looks just like a real baby diaper. My how we’ve come! Nothing like this existed when I first came to be. “Upsie daisy.” Again, I prompt her to lift her bottom. She complies on auto pilot. While she’s lifted, I unfold the diaper, give it a quick fluff, and place it beneath her. Gently I push on her lower tummy and ease her onto the thick padding. “Wait, huh?” Confused by the sensation on her bottom she lifts her torso off the ground, supporting herself with her arms. She looks at what I’ve done so far and gasps. “What the fuck!? That’s a diaper! What do you think you’re doing!?” “Woah sweetie, I think you need to calm down.” “Calm down!? You’re trying to put me in a diaper like I’m some kind of baby!” Apparently, she’s got a little fight left in her. But the setup I’ve done is doing wonders for me. Her arguing about her adult status in such a losing position is offering me quite the meal. Every emotion, all the energy, she gives off goes right to me where it’s charging me better than anything this weekend thus far. I’ve eased her into it so far. But this is the moment where it all comes together. “And?” “What do you mean ‘and’? I’m a grown u- an adult! I don’t need diapers and I certainly don’t need you putting me in one!” As Eve starts to push herself off the floor and stand, I grab her wrist. Keeping her from moving. Then I speak, with my most stern mother-like voice. “Are you a ‘big girl’? You’ve been pissing yourself aalll day, young lady.” “I-Wh… Fuck you! It’s whatever I had last night, it’s not my fault!” Uncertainty, embarrassment, and anger at being called out like that. Still rebellious but she’s feeling smaller. The small instinctual part of me, in the recesses of my mind, wants her to fight me like this forever. Harvest these powerful negative emotions. “You matched me drink for drink. If something was bad then where’s my wet pants, hm?” Her eyes go wide. She’d not yet put that together. I see the gears start to turn in her head. Internally she’s reaching for any excuse within grasp, and she gets one. Realization dawns on her face. “Y-You must’ve spiked my shit! You come over and I start pissing myself like a toddler and wearing pull-ups! Why else would you have so much baby shit that can fit an adult!?” It would make a reasonable point. If I wasn’t already prepared for such an accusation. “Now you’re really acting like a child. You were with me at the bar the entire night, I could not have done anything like that. And I told you I’m a nanny. Not all my clients are child sized.” I roll my eyes and throw her behavior back in her face. My delivery must’ve been impeccable because the wind visibly deflates from her sails. Before she says anything else I continue the offense, drunk on power. “And because I sometimes deal in adult toddlers I have a knack for telling when pretend big girls like you are full of it.” “N-No! You’re wrong! I-I am a big girl!” “Are you? Because I haven’t been out with a ‘big girl’ today. I’ll tell you who I was on a date with. A baby. A big baby girl. Someone putting on an adult front because she got hurt.” “No!” Her body tenses up, struggling to remove her arm from my grasp. The words are hitting home, I can see them impact her like physical blows. “Someone that allowed themselves to be treated like a baby because she enjoyed how it made her feel in her time of need.” “You’re…” The struggle stops momentarily. Eve’s body grows still as a slight look of concentration crosses her face. As fast as it came, it left. I smirk, with that she’s given me all the ammo I need to seal the deal. “Now if you’re done throwing a tantrum, I am putting you in this diaper, baby girl. Because you’re already dribbling onto the floor.” With a point from my free hand, I direct her attention to the floor where a small puddle is quickly growing beneath her on the wooden floor. She feels so incredibly small. So embarrassed. So stupid. The monster in me roars with satisfaction, high on the way she’s making me feel right now. “I… O-Oh…” [Maybe… Maybe I am…] All fight leaves her as she crumples in on herself. Still holding her wrist, I pull her forward onto the waiting diaper and away from the mess. While she sits quietly on the dry padding, I quickly wipe the puddle up with a hand towel. I lay her back onto the floor and touch her up again with the wipes. Then I powder her up and rub it into her skin. She gives no reaction. The front panel of her diaper lifts up and covers her belly button. I pull the left side up first, affixing the bottom tape. Then the bottom tape of the right panel. Finally, the top two tapes. With each index finger I run down the length of the padding’s leg holes, pulling at the gathers for maximum protection. And that’s it, her first actual diaper since infancy is on. I pat the front panel and speak up in a tone someone might take with a disobedient child. “See, is this so bad? What was all that fuss about?” “…” [It isn’t the worst but…] A mopey sounding thought is my only reply. Leaning forward I grab onto her limp arms and pull her into a sitting position. She looks everywhere but in my direction. Eyes red and puffy, she’d started silently crying during the change. [Why’s she being so mean…] Everything she’s poured into me during this struggle for domination has amped me up. I’m not only full but at my strongest. That said… Even through the fog of power and the temptations buzzing around at the back of my mind... That thought and the sight of her so sad and despondent cuts deep. The last thing I want is for her to feel like this. I don’t want to be this to her. As much as my instincts cry for it. This isn’t the way I want to be. It’s why it’s so important to drive home how much she needs this… Needs me. So we can both be happy together. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry I had to be a meanie… But everything is going to be okay.” As the words leave my mouth, I pull her onto my lap and cradle her in my arms. Left arm cradling her head while the right rubs her shoulder and back. She buries her head into my shirt. I feel a few loose tears soak into the fabric as she lets out a long shuddering breath she’d held in. [I’m pathetic… If this is what I am what does she even see in me…] “All this may seem a bit sudden… But I knew from the moment I saw you that you were a sweet little lady.” “…” “The other ‘adults’ I’ve worked with are a lot like you. Missing out on a part of their life. Compensating too much. Tiring themselves out. And like you, stifling that sweet little lady inside.” “M-Maybe… But why me… I can’t even make it to the potty…” I give the girl in my arms a gentle smile. She’s too cute. “I’ll change a billion of your diapers if you need me to.” “I… I don’t know what it means to really be myself.” “We’ll figure that out together.” “… Okay…” Just one small thing left. “Alright baby, lets make a quick trip to the bedroom before we order dinner.” “Eep!” I wrap my right arm under her rear and stand up. In sudden panic she wraps her arms around my chest. Once we’re in the bedroom I stand her up on her two feet. “We need to change your outfit, you got it a little wet…” Speaking gently, I point out the onesie flap that has a wet patch on it from her dribbly accident moments ago. “O-Oh… Um sorry…” “You don’t have to apologize, that’s why I’ve got you protected.” I give the top of her head a quick ruffle before I strip the onesie off her. Taking care to avoid touching her with the wet patch. It goes in her dirty clothes bin. She’s left mostly naked, wearing just her bra and Little Kings. While she looks down at herself, cheeks burning, I sit on the bed. “Come over here, Eve.” I pat the space next to me on my right. She waddles to the bed hesitantly, unused to the thick padding between her legs. As she crawls over me to get to my right side, I lightly pat her swinging bottom. I’m rewarded with a delightful crinkle and adorable ‘eep’ of surprise from the little one. As she plops down, I swing her down into a cradle. Exactly as I had done our first night while she slept. Her upper body supported by the crook of my left arm while her legs rest on the bed. [I kind of like this position… She’s so cozy.] While she stares up from her position in my arms I carefully remove the baggy shirt I’d worn out of the mall. The outer layer of the left cup of my maternity bra folds down. Like before in the changing room, her eyes go wide. Staring entranced at my breasts. I give her a second to appreciate the view and become used to it. Before springing the news on her. “Alright sweetie, I want you to have a little drink before dinner.” “I-I, woah! This might… Is too far, Lilith! There’s no way I could…” “Shhh… Don’t worry about a thing baby, just let go and relax in my arms. There’s no judgement. No fear. No worries. Just me and you.” Slowly I edge her upper body closer and closer to the waiting nipple. A bead of milk drops, landing on her meager chest. She’s barely resisting my gentle pushes. “N-No I…” Taking the chance, I pop the nipple into her open mouth. We sit like this for a short while. My breast in her mouth. Her doing everything in her power to not suck. Eyes closed. And most importantly, not biting. I didn’t even have to give her a warning. To break the deadlock, I take my right hand and massage my left breast around the nipple encased by Eve’s mouth. I feel a squirt of breast milk escape and enter the girl’s mouth. Her closed eyes shoot open in surprise. Her throat constricts and contracts, swallowing the milk on instinct. [I didn’t… I did not just drink that!] [What the fuck…] [W-Wait… It’s… Not that bad…] One after the other her racing thoughts come forth. Somewhat emboldened she gives a few tentative suckles. It’s not a great attempt because she’s trying too hard. Unlike the night prior when she was sleep-sucking on instinct and habit. However, she is rewarded with a good trickle of milk. [Oh my god… It… It’s… It’s amazing!] Of course. Outside of the regressive effects (both mental and potty training), my milk mimics the drinker’s most favorite flavors and tastes. It would be no lie to say it is the most delicious thing she’s ever had. And it shows. She loses herself in my breast. Desperately sucking away with her improper form. Her messy eating leaving small rivers of milk-spittle running down the sides of her mouth. I rub encouraging circles on her back with the arm holding her up. My right arm snakes down to the front of her diaper. The noisy sounds her suckling creates are soon joined by the sweet melody of her first accident in proper protection. A beautiful symphony to my ears and a lovely warmth against my hand. Looking down, I once again can’t help but admire the view. This beautiful, small girl. Wearing nothing but a small cloth around her chest and yellowed padding around her waist. Greedily drinking from me. With feelings of love, physical and emotional need, and happiness flowing off her and into me. Before I get too lost in the motherly sauce, I need to stop her from drinking too much. Gotta wean her onto it. I estimate that she probably drank just a touch more than last night. So perfect stopping point. Gently I pull her away with a ‘pop’. She looks up at me, momentarily confused as if wanting to know why I ruined a good time. I chuckle as I wipe her mouth and upper body clean with the shirt I’d removed. “Can’t have you getting too full now silly girl, we’re getting pizza after all.” “Ah… Um… Yeah…” As she pulls back out of the milk haze her face gains a slight blush as embarrassment sets in. With her still in my arms, I get off the bed. This time, holding her to my chest with her legs and arms wrapped around my body. Supporting her soggy bottom with a hand. I turn my head to the mirror opposite the bed. The motion grabs Eve’s attention and she looks as well. We’re quite the odd couple. Half and mostly naked. A boob popped out. Yellowed diaper. My amused face and hers content. Conflicted emotions run across her face as she soaks it in. [I really do look like…] She leaves the thought unfinished. But then again, she doesn’t need to finish it. In that moment I feel her energy and emotions shift. Like a puzzle piece popping into place. Acceptance. Of herself, of me, of this. I’m so proud of her. She’s taken this difficult day in stride and come out better than ever. Her body relaxes into mine. She lets out a long-exhausted sigh. Clearly tired from the struggle we’ve been in since arriving back at her apartment. [This feels right.] The hand on her bottom feels a sudden spurt of warmth. “You’re already almost soaked again kiddo! What am I going to do with you?” She replies without missing a beat, her voice only a little muffled from her face being planted in my shoulder. “I’d like a change and plenty of hugs and kisses.” ~~~ Half a year's passed since the weekend I met and 'adopted' my little Eve. She's come a long way into her second infancy, I'm so very proud of her. Can’t say it enough no matter how blushy it makes her. That Monday she called me Mommy for the first time. It was said on accident while she was half asleep. She was very embarrassed, and I was thrilled. Maybe I was a little off when I said it would happen by Sunday... But you can’t rush these things. The first couple of weeks Eve would get upset whenever we noticed that she'd had an accident in her diapers. But that was nothing that a little love couldn't fix. Usually, it only took a little reminder that I wasn't going anywhere, and that her new underwear did their job. Complaining and resisting over her 'feeding times' (however slight) only lasted half a week. She obviously loves the taste, but more than that she adores the intimacy. She's fully inoculated against its effect (though her potty training is shot), so I let her suck me dry every day. I’m just thankful we were able to swap her cigarette dependency easy enough for a little breastfeeding. Her other 'little' habits have come in gradually as we uncovered that side of herself. Thumb/paci sucking. Childish speech. Obsession with a particular stuffed animal. Enjoying media for tots. Cute clothing. And other little things that are very much her. That isn't to say that Eve's big girl days are numbered. Heaven's no. She's enjoying her big girl life now more than ever. It was 3 months ago that we decided it would be best if she quit her management job. It wasn't making her happy, it was stressing her out, and it's not what she really wanted to do with her life. Instead, she really wanted to work at the park. The same one she took me to on that fateful weekend. Help make it a special place for others to visit, like it was and is to her. And I'm again proud to say that she got the gig. Five days a week she's at the park doing all sorts of things. Giving tours, taking calls, working with the plants, feeding the fish, etc. Hell, she's even working on getting the old events and talks she once loved up and running again. I’m at the park now. Standing at the edge of the starting path, looking on as she plants a rainbow of colorful flowers into the beds around the main building. Visiting my hard-working baby on the job. Since diapers are her underwear of necessity, she's accepted skirts and dresses as her normal attire with help from a little prompting and praise from me. Today she's wearing a brown dress long enough to hide her babyishly printed pampers. The colors helping to disguise the dirt that is almost certainly going to end up on her as she happily scoops away with her trowel. The familiar sound of chains and a powerful presence breaks me from my reverie. She's behind me, the Sadist. While my guard is still up, I do not feel the same sense of dread I had in our last encounter. She's intentionally holding it back. Taking the lead in the conversation and turning around to face her, I speak. "To what do I owe-" At least, I try to. She has the appearance of a woman in her early 20's, 5.5ft tall, with small breasts. The outfit that adorns her is simple; a long white lace dress that's almost see-through and sandals. Her flesh is pale, almost white. Long white hair flows straight down, reaching well onto the ground. Pristine despite touching dirt. Facial features are mathematically perfect, flawless and dainty. Peach lipstick. Nail polish on pointed nails that match her lips. If it weren’t for her Succubus features, she’d look like a model. White feathered wings jut from her back. White horns grow from her upper forehead on each temple from between her bangs. They run 4-inches up and then bend into a curve going clockwise 'round her head. The curve of her right horn ends where the left begins in front of her head, and the curve of her left horn ends where the right begins behind her head. Giving the appearance of a crown, or rather, a halo. Contrasting her almost angelic appearance is her eyes. The iris and pupil blend together seamlessly into swirling black vortexes devoid of feeling or life. Pools of darkness that threaten to swallow me whole even as she holds back her power. Perhaps noticing the effect she’s having on me, the Sadist shifts her eyes away from mine. After the break in contact, I take a deep breath. Suddenly conscious that I had not since meeting her gaze. "I come with an offer." "I’m afraid I don’t understand." “I’ve watched you.” “…” “You have talent. And I find it a waste to allow such a thing wither out.” “I can’t help but feel I’m being overestimated.” The unnatural stillness she’d maintained ends as her head tilts to the side. “Few starving Succubi would be able to restrain themselves to your degree. Even less could have drawn out a human’s latent potential such as you have with that girl. That you believe I’ve overestimated you so indicates that you find it a simple task.” She finishes her analysis and pauses to give me room to respond. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘simple’. I just… Push it all back.” “From time immemorial I’ve crossed paths with only a handful of your type. You all talk about yourselves in much the same way.” “My type?” "Those who bond for life. Prioritizing deep connection over instinctual consumption. Say, how many humans have you eaten from?" "She's the third." The Sadist nods her head. As if she'd expected an answer of that caliber. "Then you must be aware. Succubi that bond for life do not last. It is too heavy an existence." She pauses, clearly waiting for some form of acknowledgement. I can’t deny and nod in agreement. When I lost Beth and Leah I’d felt as though I’d lost a piece of myself. I’m under no illusion that Eve's passing won’t result in the same heartbreak. Getting the acknowledgement she sought, the Sadist continues. “To the offer at hand. I wish to make you like me. Reborn and free of the burden you bear." She's headhunting me... That said, the ability to overwrite a Succubus’ kink is a feat spoken only of in hushed rumors. The power she wields is unfathomable to me. "I... I thank you for the offer..." What exactly she offers is a role change. Unshackled from ABDL with no more maternal instincts, urges, and thoughts to bind me down to a single human. I’d join her as a Sadist. Like her I’d be free of heartache and emotion. Living an eternal life based solely around consumption and fulfilling only my own selfish desires. Such a thing is a dream of greed. And scarily enough… I could almost see myself living it. It fills me with a sense of unease. Joyous laughter tickles my ears. I cast a quick glance to the source behind me. Eve, working in the garden and adorably doing her best. The sight and sound of her fills my breast with a warmth beyond description. It washes away the unease of the Sadists' offer. It's all the answer I need. "... However, I'm afraid I'm right where I belong." I won't regret it. Even when I’ve someday burnt out and disappeared from this world... I know this feeling of love can't be wrong. She stares at me with an indiscernible, blank expression. Finally betraying a hint of emotion, she sighs. "Foolish... But commendable. Perhaps one day I’ll succeed in swaying one of you.” “I’m sorry that today isn’t that day.” I mean it too. Though hers is an existence I cannot wrap my head around… I get the feeling that in her own strange and twisted way she worries for me. And that in her mind what she offers is salvation. “As a Succubus of Sadism, I pray you find pleasure in the pain of inevitable parting." Mirroring our initial encounter, she bows slightly. Something I’d never expect from someone such as her. Having been rejected in her offer and satisfying her curiosity, she turns around to leave. Wings flexing, feathers licking the wind. "Have you felt love?" Before she could go, the words left my lips impulsively. It was a question I suddenly found myself wanting more than anything to know the answer to. Maybe a paltry attempt at connecting with this being that feels so foreign and far from me… She pauses, her head tilting to the side. And without turning around she answers. "I think so. A long time ago." Without waiting for a reply, she’d disappeared. Gone with the blink of an eye. Not seeing the look, the emotion that she wore on her face in answering that question will certainly be a regret that I carry for the rest of my days. I turn back to Eve who is still hard at work, not having witnessed anything that had transpired just a few feet in front of her. Needing some Eve time after that experience I make myself noticeable again. She notices me while brushing some stray hairs out of her face with her forearm. Her bright smile fills me with all the energy I'd ever need. "I heard that there was a little lady here hard at work, do you think I could meet her?" Eve giggles, a habit that's become more common over the months. She leans in closer from her spot on the ground and speaks quietly. Trying to keep any potential strangers from listening in. "Mommy you're embarrassing me! I'm very hard at work right now, don't these flowers look beautiful here?" "They’re second only to you sweetie. Here, you have a little something here." She blushes as I pull a clean hand towel from her little garden cart and wipe away some dirt on her forehead. "Thank you..." [Work is great and all but I can't wait to go home!] It's my turn to smile. But before I get out of her hair there's one important thing... "How's your diaper kiddo? Before I let you go do you think you can make it?" Her face scrunches up in concentration. Her thighs shift together as she attempts to get an assessment of the state of her padding without touching herself indecently in public. "I... Think it’s better to be safe than sorry.” "Such a smart girl you are, come along, I'll get you sorted out." I pull her up from her sitting position, take her by the hand, and lead her to the closest family bathroom. ~~~ "I am... Home!" Eve shouts triumphantly, depositing her shoes on the rack. "Welcome home, dinner is ready whenever you are." She rushes over, and eagerly embraces me in a tight hug which I return enthusiastically. No signs of dirt anywhere. She must’ve showered in the employee bathrooms to keep from bringing work home. "Actually... Could I pretty please have milkies first?" Still embraced, she looks up at me with puppy dog eyes. Who could say no to that face? "Okay, okay. But there's another important detail to take care of my silly girl." My hand reaches down between her legs, flipping up her dress, and cupping the crotch of her post work to home emergency pull-ups. "I'm not that wet! Come on!" "Soaked, my little fountain. This won't take long." "Ughhhhhh..." Defeated, she allows herself to be picked up. Her legs wrap around my torso and arms wrap around my neck as she rests her head on my shoulder. With her in arm we get to the bedroom where I toss her a few inches onto the bed. She lands, giggling. I strip her of her dress, leaving her in just her birthday suit and ruined training pants. Turning away from my adorable charge, I stop by the dresser and pop open the former underwear drawer for supplies. Baby powder, wipes, and a thick nighttime diaper adorned with cute pictures of moons and stars. Atop the dresser I grab her pacifier, another tool to combat her oral fixation. Seeing my choice of padding in the mirror, Eve groans. "Mommy! It's so early for the nighttime diaper! How am I supposed to walk in that the rest of the evening!?" "You'll find a way, you always do. Plus, it should last you till morning… Though you’re very good at not lasting long.” She blushes brightly at the implication and crosses her arms adorably. I laugh while pulling her bottom onto a waterproof plastic changing pad. Near the pillows I grab her favorite stuffed bear and tuck it into her crossed arms. The paci goes in as well. Beneath the paci she grumbles but squeezes her bear tightly. The perforated sides of her pull-up tears away with ease. I leave the sodden garment under her bottom to protect the pad and get to work rubbing her down with the baby wipes. I take extra care to be both gentle and fun on her vagina. The grumbling becomes a moan of pleasure. Her pelvis bucks forward with each pass of the wipe. Eventually I reach her bottom and roll up her used pull-up before pitching it in her diaper genie. However, she's clean and the fun ends premature. "Noooooo..." Eve's whines from behind the paci. Ignoring her sentiment for the time being, I liberally apply powder and massage it firmly but gently into her skin. She enjoys this; I see it in her eyes. But that ends too soon for my poor baby as well. The diaper gets fluffed out and placed beneath her. The front panel goes up and the excess gets tucked under her sides. Back bottom tapes go on first, pulled across the front panel. Then the top tapes, the job is done. The changing pad goes back under the bed for the next, inevitable change. I sit near the pillows at the headboard. With ease my strapless dress pulls down, and the flap of my left maternity bra's cup pulls down unveiling my breast. Happily, I open my arms wide. "Come to Mommy, sweetpea!" The sexually frustrated girl perks up at my command. Rolling over onto her front she crosses the short distance in a bow-legged crawl. When she's close enough I snatch her up and manipulate her body such that she's resting in a position similar to the first night I had her feed from me. The night that would spell the end of her old life, and the beginning of something new and good. I pluck the pacifier from her sucking mouth and quickly replace it with my left breast. Eagerly she gets to work. Over the months her form has improved significantly. She can drain a breast like a champ in record time. Though on occasion she likes to make slow work of it. Enjoying the feeling of being connected to me. [Mmm so good...] Hearing her enjoy the milk never gets old. My right arm snakes down the front of her diaper where my fingers get to work. Playing her princess parts like an instrument. Her muffled moans leak out from behind my breast. Little dribbles of milk leave her mouth, running down her neck and onto her cute little boobies. It seems I forgot her bib again, when will I learn? While sucking she bucks her hips to the rhythm of my massage. The warmth of my milk entering her tummy and warmth of my fingers on her most intimate parts. Her body presses into my own. All that she feels in this moment is a beautiful whirlwind which flows into me like water down a drain. A few short minutes of our song and dance and the flow of milk from the first teat is at an end. [Oh fuck, oh Mommy, o-oh I'm-I'm gonna c-!] The wriggling girl in my arms squeals in pleasure; her pelvis bucking one final time into my waiting hand. With no time to lose, I pull my hand out of her pamper and pat the front gently as she comes down from her high. She floods her diaper, its padding greedily soaking up the warm mixture of cummies and urine. Spent, the girl flops down in my arm. Twitching in post orgasm bliss as her body of its own volition rids itself of its liquid waste. “Oh my, someone is Mommy’s lil messy girl tonight. I’m going to have to clean you up before bed!” Tired and content she allows me to shift her body to the other side where she slowly gets to work on the other breast. Left hand massages her back from behind while supporting her. Right remaining gently on her squishy padding as a comforting reminder. While the experience was in a sense orgasmic for me as well, more than that I am filled with an intense feeling of love and care for the darling girl in my arms. I rest my head on the headboard behind me, closing my eyes. Grainy images flash and drift behind my closed lids. Playing like an old movie. Two girls, much like Eve but different and unique in their own ways. All the times I’d held them exactly in this way. And the love I still felt but could no longer feel from them. "Lilith, you alright?" A small voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I look down to Eve, she's looking up at me concerned. At some point she’d stopped nursing. Her hand lifts and wipes away something wet from my face, tears. "It's alright. I'm fine... Just memories." From her position she cuddles into my stomach, wrapping both arms around my midsection in a tight squeeze. "I love you Mommy… Whatever’s wrong I want you to know that I’m here for you." [I hope this is enough, I wish I could do more...] Oh… please don’t think that sweetie. You’ve no idea how much you’ve done for me. "I love you too baby. And I’ll be here for you as well, forever." ______________________________________________________________________________________ Huge shoutout to Kasarberang for hosting the competition. And to my friend, Melunnia, on Twitter for another wonderful art piece. I hope that you, the reader, have enjoyed reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Sunday. Before I know it my eyes pop open groggily. The last day of the weekend. A quick check on the phone next to my bed informs me that it’s early by my weekend standards, roughly 10 am. My limbs stretch out and my back arches, getting the nighttime stiffness out. I’m yanked right out of my grogginess however by the sound generated by my movement. A loud rustling and a much quieter crinkling. Feeling the strange feeling of not-quite-vertigo from yesterday I roll off the bed quickly and throw the covers off. Nothing unusual… I push on the bed lightly, moving my hand around. And I’m rewarded with the same loud rustle. So, I rip the bedsheets themselves off. Under that is a thick sheet of white plastic covering the bed. A bed protector, the kind one would buy for… An accident-prone child… My hands run through my bed head, massaging my scalp. “Well, fuck.” Despite my late-night hopes and prayers, this was not in fact a dream. Mind boiling over in troubled thoughts and anxiousness, I begin pacing around the room. However, that infernal crinkling sound from the bed rings obnoxiously in my ears. Just as I decide to stop the source of the sound, I catch a look at myself in the full body mirror. It’s not that I look any different from last night, I’m still very much me. What’s off is that I do not remember throwing on the black sleep shorts. I also do not remember the cloth training pants being so bulky on my rear. Thumbs hook into the shorts and I yank down the garments exposing my underwear to myself in the mirror. Except what I expose is not underwear. Not really. It functions as underwear sure, but when you think of the term ‘underwear’, you usually consider something a bit more… ‘Long term functional’. No, these were made of a papery material with disposability in mind. Inside is more padding, an absorbent fluff of sorts that spreads my legs thicker apart just slightly more than last night’s underwear. It even has little perforations on the side for easy removal. It’s a bona fide pull-up. With the same black color scheme and patterns from the previous two days. The number one rests proudly on the front of the garment. “Shit… Shit.” There’s no way I’m buying that this is right. I was starting to yesterday but this is clearly not. I turn to my dresser, but I don’t even have to open it to know what’s inside. Sitting just to the side is an unopened package of dark purple pull-ups. Ribbons and swirls of color decorate the front. Could it be the underwear I’d received in the mail Friday? They’re the one constant from these past two days… Better safe than sorry. With each hand I grab on either side of the pull-ups perforations and pull it apart off me. I throw it into the closet and slam the folding door shut, getting it out of sight. I’d go commando but yesterday’s bladder control was rough, I’d hate to think about how it is today. So, without looking into my underwear drawer and dealing more mental damage to myself, I tear open the purple pack and slide it up my legs. Despite the rather kiddish color scheme and packaging it goes up easily, fits like a glove, and covers a touch more than ‘granny panties’. “Hold on…” I mutter to myself as I march over to the joint gaming room and office. The calendar is still the same as it was yesterday though it seems more serious in function and tone. It simply reads “Kay’s Potty Chart”. The sarcastic little emote denoting it as a joke is gone. It’s serious. And judging by the number of dark clouds vs smiling suns it seems well warranted… Shakily I run downstairs to the kitchen. Along the way I look closely at the photographs decorating the wall. It’s difficult but in some of the pictures I can tell that my choice in underwear is obviously thicker than a pair of panties would be. And as if that wasn’t enough evidence, a picture of Marna and I at the beach where I’m rocking a smile, a sexy blue bikini top, and a pair of vibrant blue swimming pull-ups. At this point my mouth is dry and I all but drain the Brita filter of everything its got. I flip open my phone and return to my correspondence with Marna from the past two days. Starting with our Friday evening texts. “Not good. Damn it.” I shake my head. The strange acceptance of yesterday’s oddities that I’d talked myself into is fading faster and faster. Even the message from last night is quite drastically altered. Her mention of me feeling off yesterday is gone. As if everything was just peachy yesterday. That’s not even getting into the good girl and training potty shit. “Ah nuts!” As if I don’t have enough going on with reality crumbling down around me, I gotta hit the store like this. Then, a powerful sensation below. An urge to piss like I’d never felt before. Whether it’s stress, my preoccupation, whatever’s weakening my bladder, or a mixture of it all holding off the signal I am unsure. But it’s here and I’m moments away from bursting. I tear upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. As I reach the final step at the top of the staircase, I feel a twinge and a slight burst of urine hit the soft padding held so closely to my privates. “No way-“ I grunt and bend over slightly, literally hold myself. Stemming the flow. For now. Carefully I make the rest of the trip to the bathroom much slower. I only stop my awkward stance when my ass is hovering over the porcelain seat. The pull-ups slide down and my rear makes contact with the seat just in time for the dam to fully break. My hands cradle my head as my body unwittingly does its business, flushed red in embarrassment at having pissed myself even a little. It’s in that position, looking down, that I notice something off. The pullups sitting in a damp heap at my feet are not the ones I’d put on just a short time ago. They’re the same pattern and color of the one I’d torn off. The ones I’d been suspicious of causing this nonsense. When the hell did that happen? But that’s not all, on the waistband of the sodden garments is a tag, much like you’d see on a non-disposable pair of panties. Alongside the typical information such as washing instructions (it says don’t considering they’d probably make a mess of the washing machine) is a brand name. Reality™. And in very small print a series of numbers with dashes. A phone number to be precise. I finish up at the toilet, wipe myself down, and toss the lightly used pull-up into the small trash bin. But not before taking down the number. Hands get washed and I rush to the bedroom to slide on a fresh pair of purple pull-ups once again. Phone in hand plop down at my desk and ring up the number on speaker. While it rings, I turn my PC on and pull up the naughty photos I’d reviewed yesterday. A choked gasp of air escapes me at what I find. A mixture of laugh and sigh. Lots of mature content of Marna and me. In all the pictures I’m in a pull-up, sometimes dry but often in some degree of sag. Happy as a clam. I only get a few glimpses at my stash of photos before the tone cuts, the phone’s been picked up on the other end. My voice ratches up in self-righteous fury. “Alright you mother f-“ “Thank you for calling Reality. We appreciate your call and hope you’ll stick around while we get to your call. One of our representatives will be with you shortly.” My tirade is preemptively cut off by the sound of an automated message delivered by a slightly feminine robotic voice. A much deeper, human voice was inserted for speaking the company’s name. Soft music like you’d hear from any other help line begins to play from my phone’s speaker. I stare confused and incredulous at the phone and deflate in my chair. This has taken a bit of the wind out of my sails. The music ends and a feminine human voice picks up, sounding roughly my own age. “Hello and thank you for calling Reality, where we put the real in reality. Please be aware that this conversation will be recorded for quality and training purposes. My name is Alice, how may I help you today?” “Uh, hello. My name is Kay. Kay Tots. I received a package from you guys, and I’m honestly confused at all this.” The very ordinary sounding support call has certainly thrown me off my game. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t this. In fact, my own experiences in taking professional calls is quelling my negative feelings. I’d been on the receiving end of angry customers before. “That’s no problem, dear. I can get into what we do here if that would help.” “Sure, we can start there.” “So, here at Reality we’ve found that the way that we, as humans, perceive and interact with the world around us is in fact quite malleable and easy to alter.” “W-What? That can’t possibly be right.” “Oh, but it is. Actually, our brains do most of the heavy lifting in reality alteration. If you tweak with the way things are just right the brain readily adapts itself including its memories to accept new standards of reality to avoid stress.” Her reply is swift and confident. Not that I can really find fault with her words. Given what I’d experienced I’m more inclined to agree than disagree. I’d been falling down the slope of acceptance all day yesterday. “Okay… So given that’s true, what does Reality exactly do with this this?” “Thank you for asking! We’ve taken it upon ourselves to personally enhance the reality of customers such as yourself. And do so in a way such that the quality of life improves by a percentage of 30% or greater.” “I didn’t buy anything though, how am I a customer?” “Another excellent question! All customers of Reality are selected at random by our internal reality technicians. As such our services come free of charge.” “I… See. Uh, in that case could I get whatever’s been done to me undone or removed?” “Are you experiencing issues with the product that you received?” “Well, it’s more that I don’t really want or appreciate what’s been happening the past two days.” “Hm… Well, I won’t ask the specifics of your issues but according to your file it seems that your reality alterations are proceeding within expected parameters. I have an offer for you, if you’d like to hear it, dear.” “Sure.” “Here at Reality, we pride ourselves on our 100% satisfaction rating. We get concerned calls such as yours from time to time early in the process, but in the end they’re a happy customer. I see on your file that by tomorrow morning your new reality will be finished settling in. Give it a chance and if you’re not completely happy with how things are then give us a ring and we’ll put everything back and make all of this seem like a bad dream.” I pause for a moment, chewing on her words and thinking it over. She seems very passionate about her work, and if what she’s saying is true then at worst all this becomes a dream anyway… I have a few more questions before I reach a decision, however. “This isn’t some trick, is it? Like everything is set in stone tomorrow and I forget things have changed or become unable to call back…” “No, no no. We don’t do that sort of thing here, dear. No matter how drastic your change in reality is, the structure of your life will be more or less consistent. You’ll still have your same relationships, employment, schooling, abilities, etc. Anything less would be cruel.” A fervent denial. Her tone of voice takes on an almost offended or sad tint. As though even the thought of something like this hurt her. “If all this is a free service, then where do you guys get the funding for this? I can’t imagine all this is cheap.” “Oh dear, if we can make adjustments to reality then it goes to reason that our company would be able to somehow keep ourselves afloat even without conventional means.” She chuckles and in hindsight I do feel a little silly for asking. Which doesn’t make the last question any easier to ask. “Is this… Some sort of magic?” “Hm…” It’s her turn to pause now as she thinks of the best way to answer my question. She speaks up again. “They say that a science so far advanced beyond understanding could be perceived as magic. So, I suppose you could describe what we do here either way. Unfortunately, I cannot give any better answer, trade secrets you know.” “I guess that’s it… I… I’ll take you up on your offer. I’ll call back tomorrow evening once everything’s settled.” “Excellent choice, dear. And thank you once again for your call… If a call is not received in the coming months, we may reach out again to get a review and endorsement of our services. It was a pleasure talking with you, goodbye.” “Alright, sure. Talk to you later.” I roll my eyes slightly at these typical sounding lines. I may be ‘giving this a chance’, but there’s no way I’m not calling tomorrow evening. Looking down I see that the pull-up I’d put on before the call once again has the style and look of the ‘cursed’ one I’d woken up in. Feeling a bit more comfortable and less concerned after the call, I poke and prod the crinkly garment, inspecting it a little more. To my dismay the cloth-like is damp to the touch. Not leaking, but I did not stay dry during that call. Being distracted certainly made it easier for my body to let go without notice… And if the number adorning the front is a timer for completion that would match with what the representative said about tomorrow being the last day. “Ah, whatever. I got errands to do.” We put up with it for now, and tomorrow evening or Tuesday morning we give them a call back. I push away from the computer and spin the chair around, throwing a fresh look around the room for changes I’d not noticed earlier. In one of the previously empty corners of the room not occupied by either of our desks is a small bin with a lid and a short cabinet that doesn’t even come to my hips. Giving the inside of the bin a peek grants me a view of multiple wadded up pull-ups. “Then maybe…” Stooping down I pull open the left and right door of the cabinet. It’s just as I expected. On the left is a black plastic training potty fit for me, and on the right is a pack of spare pull-ups with baby wipes. “Score!” I shout, perhaps a little more excited than I should. Really, it’s the convenience of not having to go into the bathroom to freshen up. With a little help from me and gravity, the pull-up hits the carpeted floor and I get to work cleaning myself with the wipes. I wince at the cold feeling on my most tender bits, but I get it over with quick. Then a fresh pull-up from the already opened pack covers me once more. Finished with that task I go to the bedroom to get changed for my outing. Today’s outfit is a pair of black jeans (not skinny for obvious reasons), a long light brown shirt that hangs over my jeans and a jacket of equal length (to hide the top of the pull-up peeking out over the jeans). According to my phone I’ll make the bus just in time if I leave now. Feeling a bit more hurried I rush downstairs to throw on my shoes, grab my purse, and get my ass out the door and down the sidewalk to the bus stop. I board and while I’m clearly very discreet with the pull-ups, I can’t help but feel everyone’s eyes are on me. So, I sit just behind the driver, not keen to walk by someone that could potentially notice. Despite my fears the short ride to the grocery is smooth and I’m given no trouble whatsoever. In fact, an elderly couple boarding a few stops after my own flashed me a smile before disappearing further into the bus. A rather quick 10-minute ride later and the bus pulls into the stop adjacent to the rather large superstore. I disembark and quickly scurry across the parking lot and into the store’s entrance. With a cart in hand, I push past the automated gates and into the store. “Welcome to Target, sweetie. Let us know if there’s anything we can do for you!” “Uh, thank you.” A rather enthusiastic greeter waves to me in particular; a smile on his face. I return the greeting with a thanks and head to produce, confused. By the time I’ve filled the cart with fresh fruits and veggies I’ve found my groove. No longer obsessing about my gait or the feeling of the padding between my legs or the looks from the other shoppers. All that’s in the back of my head. Right now, I am a grocery buying machine. I finish up on the right side of the store with all the food related goods, and head over to the left where the other necessities reside. Trash bags, soap and shampoo, toothpaste, etc. All that goes into the cart. And I’m done, that was the last of it. However, as I walk to the checkout an aisle catches my eye. Or rather, a strange sight in the aisle. I turn the cart in and read the summary of goods hanging above. “Childcare… Right…” I say, not sounding convinced. Because right near the entrance of the aisle is a whole section of rather large packages of pull-ups. Many of these packages are adorned with a variety of grown women wearing the garments, holding the package up proudly. I pick up one of the packages, turning it over in my hands. Upon closer inspection are quotes from the women where typically you might expect quotes from parents. ‘Thanks to Pull-Ups for Women, potty training has never been easier’. ‘Soft, absorbent, and my boyfriend loves them on me’. I set the package back on the shelf and peer at the women. The pictures seem off somehow, as if not quite real. Maybe AI generated? There is no way other adults have been caught up in this… Right…? I mean, the shelves are full, with no indication that anyone has bought these. I don’t see a brand name on any of the packages, so maybe these just… Poof into existence? Reality conforming to the strange normal I’ve found myself in. With a shake of my head, I turn back to my cart ready to move along. But my eyes catch another odd sight and I turn as if on autopilot. Adult diapers, albeit ones with a more infantile design than what you might otherwise expect from the size. And they do seem to come in a range of sizes. Cute farm animals, skulls, mermaids, and more designs, all running up the plastic. The models, fake or real, are in a variety of poses. Spread legged, bending over, even outdoors. All with their pampered rears on full display. All wearing comfortable, happy smiles aimed at whoever catches an eye of the diaper’s packaging. Is this some sort of precursor to tomorrow!? “Oh dear, are you alright sweetie?” “Ah!” A voice from behind calls out suddenly. I jolt in surprise, a shocked gasp leaving my throat. The package of adult pampers falls to the floor with a crinkle. Turning around I am greeted to an employee roughly my age; she’s wearing an apron and a polo t-shirt tucked into her jeans. There’s a nametag, Laura, attached to her shirt. She’s eyeing me with a look of concern. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I couldn’t help but notice you needed some help.” “Oh, it’s no problem… I’m actually ready to check out.” “That’s not quite what I meant, dear.” Laura looks down pointedly. I follow her gaze and my face flushes red in embarrassment. My dark jeans sport a few darker spots, around where my legs and bottom meet. There’s a few down my leg as well. And worst of all a few noticeable drops on the floor. My legs squeeze together with a squish, confirming what I’d already pieced together. I’ve had an accident and leaked my… The pull-up. “O-Oh my god! I… I’m so sorry! I-” “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everything will be alright. Let’s get you to the bathroom, hm? What’s your name?” “It-It’s Kay.” Gently she grabs hold of my wrist and starts pulling me towards the bathroom a few feet away. “That’s a really cute name! I love it!” As we enter the white tiled room, I notice something different right off the bat. The size of the public changing table has increased dramatically. Large enough to fit an adult. We move past that though, and towards one of the uninhabited larger stalls at the end of the bathroom. Laura ushers me in and gently closes the door behind me. “I’ll be right back with something for you to wear, sweetie. Can you get those pants off for me in the meantime?” “I… Um… Sure.” “Good girl! Be right back!” Already heading back towards the store, her chipper voice echoes in the bathroom. And I’m left alone, or mostly alone with anyone occupying the other stalls. Following her instructions, I gingerly extract myself from my damp jeans. With those gone and nothing to keep the pull-ups held in place, it immediately sags down. A few beads of piss squeeze out from the leg holes and run down my leg. Not quite ready to go fully naked in a bathroom stall I sit on the toilet where the droplets can go somewhere appropriate. With a morbid sort of curiosity, I crane my neck down, looking at the sodden garment. The dark coloring of the pull-up is tinged yellow, with many of the intricate flowers between my legs having faded away. I rest my head in my hands feeling so incredibly embarrassed. Though Laura is being very nice and understanding. It honestly warms my heart, she’s great. “I’m back, sorry, I had to run around the store!” As if summoned by my thoughts of her, Laura appears on the other side of the stall door. “It’s okay, thank you so much for doing this for me.” “Psh, for someone as adorable as you I’d do laps around this store.” I blush again, this time for a different reason. Before I can reply she speaks again. “Now then, do you need my help to get dressed or can you do it on your own?” “NO! I-I mean I’m good, I can do it.” I shout, mortified. On the other side of the door Laura chuckles before cracking the door open and holding out a handful of objects. Gratefully I accept and sort through them. A pair of regular blue jeans, though the back pockets have purple flowers sewn onto them. Cute. A pull-up, lavender with dark purple flowers. And a small pack of disposable wipes. I open the wipes and tear the perforated sides of the pull-up wrapped around my bottom. It hits the floor with a plop. As I begin wiping my lower half down, Laura continues the conversation. “I assumed your caregiver wants you in pull-ups. In case you’re wondering why I didn’t grab some of our more absorbent diapers.” “Caregiver!?” “Oh sorry, your mommy or daddy.” God, this is certainly a development I hadn’t thought about. What sort of weird public kinky relationship do Marna and I have in this twisted reality!? “Uh, yeah. T-Thanks for the pull-up then.” “It’s no problem sweetie. I know potty training can be difficult, but don’t let this get you down.” “Right…” Laura doesn’t know the half of it. Something tells me that potty training will be a far-off dream tomorrow. At this point I’ve got the pull-up on and the jeans tugged up. So, I exit the stall and wash my hands. As I turn to leave the bathroom with Laura, she pulls out a small piece of paper and places it into my hand. “It was a pleasure helping you out kiddo. You’re so cute and well behaved! Give my information to your caregiver, I’d love to babysit sometime.” I blush again, something that Laura has been quite effective at getting me to do. “I-Uh, sure. I’ll make sure she gets it. Thanks for all the help, you’re great and really nice. I’ll pay for all of this if you kept the tags…” “Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. And don’t fight me on this!” She says with a laugh, apparently seeing through the expression on my face. Having been called out, I accept her words with a shrug. Before I can react, she pulls me in for a quick and firm hug. Then she’s off, heading away from the front of the store. “See ya Kay!” I respond with a wave before heading back to my cart which rests in the aisle it was left in. While super embarrassing, this honestly wasn’t the worst. People have been… Rather nice today… Ah, whatever. I’m done here. Time to check out, get home, and enjoy the last of the weekend before work tomorrow. ___________________________________________________________________________________ Only one more chapter left! Sorry this took some time but this past month of time has been pretty filled for me, and this chapter turned out quite long. But I hope to have the grand finale out in a more reasonable amount of time. That aside, let's see how Kay looks in this chapter's picture. A piece I commissioned from the great Melunnia.

Saturday. The training pants puff around my bottom, a thick mass of cloth between my leg. It feels strange. Foreign. There’s absolutely no way I mistook those panties yesterday for training pants. No way in hell. They felt so different from what I’m wearing now. Wait, hold on. There’s a sanity check, we can prove this. We have photographic evidence. I grab the phone from the bedside table and plop back down on the bed. Then I navigate to the texts and from there my correspondence with Marna. “What the fuck…” My mouth hangs agape, and I stare confused at the contents of my phone. Despite my clear-ish (thank you alcohol) memory of last night, I see two things not lining up in my texts. 1. I do not recall thanking Marna for sending me training pants. 2. I do not recall taking pictures in said training pants to send to Marna. And yet, my phone proves that both things happened. The room feels as though it’s spinning around me. Something isn’t right. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. I furrow my brow and shoot out a quick message to Marna asking if she can call. Before I have time to get off the bed my phone begins to ring. I pick up. “What’s up Kay, how ya doing?” “Uh, hey Marna… Did you notice anything weird about the pictures I sent last night?” “I mean they were sexy as hell if that’s what you’re getting at. Those new training pants hug your ass so well, and the pattern… Mmm!” Her voice dips quiet as if she’s in a semi-public area and trying to keep the conversation secret. “Right… So did you buy those… Training pants?” “I wasn’t joking last night; I didn’t order that pair for you. I assumed you did.” “Why would I buy training pants? I wouldn’t buy something like that!” Silence hangs on the phone for a brief moment. When Marna speaks next her voice is tinged with confusion. “Are you feeling alright babe? You’ve always worn training pants.” “Wait, what!?” “I mean you’re basically potty trained. It’s been like a month since the last accident and that was just a little dribble if anything.” “…” “Are you sure you’re alright Kay? I’ll come home early if something is wrong…” I know she’s not messing with me. She sounds genuine and concerned. I really shouldn’t worry her any more than this. Not while she’s on an important trip. “Uh no… I’m alright. Sorry if I’m being weird, I think I had an odd dream or something and I woke up off. Have a good day Marna, love you!” “Okay… Let me know if you keep feeling off. Love you too, hope you feel better!” We hang up. I hop off the bed. A few steps away and I’m at my dresser. My hand rests on the top knob. My underwear drawer. … I don’t want to open it… But I do anyway. … It’s full of folded cloth training pants. A wide variety of colors, patterns, and thickness. Much of which mirrors what I remember my underwear drawer looking like before… Albeit noticeably thicker. … I bend my legs and squat low to the ground. My head buried into the folded arms resting on my knees. “I’m absolutely losing my fucking mind.” I remember putting on underwear yesterday. Actual panties. From this very drawer. And Marna has been out of town since before I woke up yesterday. There’s no way she snuck home last night to replace all of my panties with training pants in an attempt to gaslight me into believing I’m only mostly potty trained. She’s not the pranking type. And she wouldn’t do something like this to me. I may not know what all I know right now, but I know that much. My arms unfold and I brace my hands on my knees to stand back up. While doing so my legs squeeze together against the slight thickness between my thighs. Perhaps just a smidge thicker than usual underwear. Perhaps my initial assessment was off, this isn’t too bad. Could this have always been my underwear of choice? I guess I’ll… Just set this aside for now. Maybe I got a bit too tipsy last night and smashed my head against an end table. Maybe I’ve drank myself into a wild stupor. Everyone (Marna at least) and everything lines up different from my memory, so guess I’m wrong. Fuck it. Time to take it easy and turn off the ol’ brain. Starting Saturday with a confused near panic attack is a shit way to start the weekend. So, putting my bout of amnesia behind me and ignoring the thickness of my… The training pants, I head downstairs to the kitchen. Along the way I peer at the pictures lining the walls of our abode. Nothing looks off, everything as I remember it. I stare particularly hard at my midsection. Looking for any sign of ‘thickness’. But unfortunately revealing clothes aren’t a crazy part of my wardrobe to begin with, so nothing noticeable. The living room I poke my head into is much the same as the hallways, nothing new. Finally, the kitchen is exactly as I left it the night prior. Empty wine bottles draining water in the sink. Part of our recycling prep. I grab some Pedialyte and blueberry cream cheese from the fridge, and throw some whole wheat bread into the toaster. An apple on the counter becomes the final ingredient to this balanced brunch. By the time I finish this assortment of food and drink, I honestly feel much better. Much less like I’m losing my ever-loving mind. Tomorrow I’ll probably have to stop by the store and get some groceries before Marna gets home, so that means I can use today to its fullest to chill. Dishes get rinsed and tossed in the quarter full dish washer. A coffee mug with a lid gets filled with water and comes with me back upstairs to the office. Naturally I assumed the room wouldn’t have changed, like the rest of the house. And for the most part it’s as I remembered. However, the shared calendar between our spaces is clearly different. Days of the month already passed have stickers. It’s still the same old calendar with pictures of flowers for each month. But underneath the large text for the month, in Marna’s handwriting, is the sharpie’d message “Kay’s Potty Chart”. Including a little emote “:P”. “Heh…” That extracts a chuckle from me despite the sense of unease boiling inside me. Now hypothetically speaking. If I had always been only mostly potty trained, this is the kind of silly thing Marna would do. But hey, at least the stickers seem to indicate that I’ve had only successes… Ignoring the chart/calendar I plop down at my desk, sitting heavily against the back of my chair. I’d never admit it aloud, but the training pants do a decent job of further padding out the chair. Not bad… I flip on the computer to throw on some YouTube while I get back to Pokémon. As I browse the home page suggestions an interesting thought pops into my head. While the ‘family friendly’ photos decorating the house seem no different, then what of the ‘not so family friendly’ photos saved on my hard drive… Minimizing Chrome, I navigate to the file explorer. Several sub-folders deep lay my stash of saved indecent photos. With trembling hand, I enter the final layer. And it’s exactly as I expected. Mostly nude photos of Marna and I. Hands all over each other. Most notably, hands on the training pants I’m wearing in every photo. Can’t possibly be a photoshop job. It looks too good, and the training pants are different in each non-sequential photo. “Mmmmgrrrhhh…” I mumble and close the explorer, choosing once again to shove this issue to the back of my mind. ~~~ Gaming goes well for a short time, I completed the dex and acquired the shiny charm. I got through about an hour of recommended videos. However, I’m ready to take a break in favor of a different game. But… A familiar sensation hits my bladder. “Oh shit!” The urge is sudden and strong. I stumble out of the chair, banging my leg on the desk in the rush. A quick hobble to the bathroom next door and the bottoms are dropped just in time. That was close. Much too close. If the bathroom were any farther away those training pants would’ve been soaked. I remember having more warning and also being able to hold for much longer. But apparently those memories are… False as well. I shake my head and finish in the bathroom. You know what, we’re ordering pizza for dinner tonight. One phone call to Dominos later and the delivery order is placed. Pepperoni and onion, extra sauce. Thick crust obviously. While I’m in the kitchen prepping a plate and drink for the pizza’s arrival I receive a call. It’s Marna. I answer. “How ya doing babe?” “Not too bad, how’s the trip?” “Not too bad, we’re done for today. We’re about to head out for Italian. What about you?” “Wow, we have so much in common! You could say that’s what I’m having as well.” “Dominos right? You’re having Dominos, aren’t you?” “Mmm you’re quite the detective, and with so little to go on.” “Psh, you order that every time I go out.” “I have to wait for you to leave to order good pizza.” “Woah, I ordered Little Caesars ONE time, okay?” “And you liked it Marna, you liked it.” “Fuck me, I’ll never live it down.” I burst into laughter, unable to hold it back. She does as well. The same argument occurs every time pizza is relevant to the conversation. And it never gets old to either of us. Finally, the chuckles die down and she continues where she left off. This time her voice taking on a more sultry, quiet tone. “You know I… I think I’d like another picture tonight…” “Oh really, would you now?” “Of course, my intentions are entirely pure… Gotta make sure my special lady hasn’t had an accident.” My mouth drops and my eyebrows shoot up high. I cannot believe she just said that. Is… Is this how our dirty talk works? “Uh, no accidents here. I can guarantee that.” “Weeeell, I’d like a picture. Just to be sure, babe.” I look down for the first time in forever and realize I never actually put on clothes today. I’ve been rocking training pants and a sleep shirt all day. My face immediately brightens in embarrassment, not that anyone else is here to witness my pseudo nudity or shame. Still though, I comply with her request. I set her to speaker, switch on the camera, and hold the phone up and away from me. Angling it down. After making sure my full body is in frame, I take the picture and send it her way. “I hope you’re happy, it’s on the way.” “Just got it, I’m more than happy! Sexy as fuck, and seemingly dry though I’d have to get in your pants to be absolutely sure. Guess you won’t be needing diapers after all.” Like a switch is flipped she goes from sexy to teasing, and while normally fun the last bit makes me pause. I’m given no time to think though, as the doorbell resounds through the house. “Oh shit, pizza’s here and I don’t even have pants on! You’ve distracted me with your antics!” “Pants? Why do you need those?” “Uh. What?” I ask, dumbfounded by her reply. “Are you sure you’re alright today...? You get the door in your training pants all the time. Hell, sometimes I have to make you put pants on before we leave the house. Not that anyone cares about seeing you in them.” “…” What does that even mean!? If I wasn’t feeling like I was losing it before, this has officially taken the cake. Before I can consider a counter-reply the doorbell rings again and Marna begins speaking quickly. “Sorry to leave like this, but it looks like we’re heading out now! Goodbye my love, I expect texts before bed expressing your undying love for meeeee!” “Ah, alright. Love you too, have fun!” We hang up at the same time and I step out of the kitchen and into the hallway. On one end is the front-door, on the other side is the rightfully impatient pizza deliverer. On the other is the staircase leading to pants that will spare me embarrassment. The doorbell rings for a third time, and that seals my decision. Quickly I run to the front-door, grabbing my wallet from my purse hanging next to the door. I crack it open a little and speak nervously. “H-Hey, sorry about that. I was upstairs…” “No worries, that’ll be $5.99.” It’s an unfamiliar guy perhaps in his early 20’s, a driver I’d not seen before. I dig through my wallet and come up with a $10 bill. I pass it to the man who begins digging through his own money pouch. “Don’t worry about the change, keep it.” “Thanks, I appreciate it!” He replies gratefully, giving me a slight smile. Then he unhooks the flap from the ‘keep warm’ box and pulls out my pizza. I push the door out a bit more and collect it with both hands. Unfortunately doing so bumps the door with my arm, sending it careening open at a slow pace. “Oh! Ah! Agahgaha!” A yelp followed by unintelligible, embarrassed gibberish escapes my lips. The delivery driver’s eyes flick down, getting a good look at my exposed black flowery training pants. However… His expression doesn’t change. The good-natured smile remains. Not in a creepy manner. Nor in a demeaning way. As if what he’d just witnessed was something not out of the ordinary. Just as Marna had suggested. “Here, I can get the door for you if your hands are full.” “Ah… Uh thanks. H-Have a good night.” “No problem, you too.” And with that I step away from the door as the delivery driver pushes it shut and walks down the path to his waiting car. Seconds tick by as I stand there, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Brain absolutely fried I give up, turn on my heel, and head back to the kitchen to serve up the pizza and swallow down some alcohol. ~~~ Pizza, alcohol, and a healthy dose of Overwatch later I’m once again lying in bed preparing to sleep. I brushed my teeth and put on a clean sleeping shirt of course, of course. And most importantly I toned it down on the alcohol tonight. Given the state of my bladder today I didn’t want to go too crazy with it. Ready to shut my eyes and be dead to the world I crack the phone open one more time for the promised text exchange. “Maybe this is all just a dream. An overworked induced dream and I’ll wake up and it’ll be Saturday…” Of course, that would make perfect sense. Something as absurd as what’s happened today could only be the product of a tired and overworked mind. Phone goes on the bedside table, and I roll over. With high hopes of a typical morning and the obviously imaged training pants hugging my rear in a relatively comfortable fashion… ___________________________________________________________________________________ Gotta say people seemed to love the first chapter of this short story. I hope to maintain the interest; this post marks the halfway point! I've also commissioned art from a good friend and amazing Artist, Melunnia. Give her some love and your money for art commissions. If you scroll back up to the bottom of the first chapter you may notice a trend where the art is headed...

Friday. “Kay, I need the transcript from the team meeting before you leave.” “Uh, you didn’t ask me to take any notes. How badly do you need it?” “Ugh, come on. Do I have to ask you to do everything?” “Right… Sorry sir.” Being a secretary absolutely blows. Overworked as fuck, dealing with customer complaints, management always expecting me to read their god damned minds, and worst of all I have to apologize! Middle manager Tom rolls his eyes and unleashes a sigh that seems to stretch on forever before stepping away with words of caution. “I guess it’s fine this time, but I expect a transcript for the next team meeting.” This is hell. I’m literally living in hell. However, with that interaction finished I’m free to leave. Free for the weekend! I grab my purse and keycard, push my rolling chair away from the reception desk, and quickly make my way through the front glass doors. Checking myself out on the employee card scanner as I go. Rolling my long sleeve shirt up I peer at my watch and notice that the bus should arrive shortly at the stop I frequent to and from work. That puts a little pep in my step. I walk as briskly as my business skirt and heels will allow. My increase in speed paid dividends as I turn the corner and see the bus moments away from pulling up to the stop just outside the business complex. “Oh, thank god.” I murmur in relief. If I missed this one, the next one wouldn’t be showing up for another thirty minutes. Walking up to the bus I ready my pass and scan it. The doors close behind me and the driver hits the gas before I’ve seated myself. *Ding* A text notification from my phone. Blindly I shove my hands into my purse, rummaging around. Eventually I hit the plastic of its case and extract it from the overflowing space. My heart does a happy little flip. It’s from Marna, my girlfriend! For better or worse my last text wasn’t entirely truthful. We both know I’d be partying a little less than ‘hard af’. Some video games, wine, maybe pop on some Netflix in the background. If I’m feeling particularly zany perhaps I’d go for a walk or heat up a frozen burrito for dinner… I appreciate texting with my adorkable shortstack love. It blew a good chunk of bus riding time. Several stops into the journey and we arrive at my exit. I quickly take my leave, thanking the driver as I go, and throwing a wave behind me as I walk the final block to the small two-bedroom house that Marna and I share. It’s a nice walk, the fresh and somewhat cool spring air feels just right. And our yardwork is coming together quite nicely. The flower seeds we planted a few weeks ago have started sprouting. Soon it’ll be a sea of beautiful flowers. But as I walk down the pathway to our home, I notice something strange on the porch. A small brown box. I’d not been expecting a package, and I wasn’t aware that Marna was either… Reaching down and picking it up I find it to be quite light. As well as addressed to me and our house; so little chance of it being a mistake. I unlock the door and make my way inside with great haste. Intrigued by the mysterious package. Shoes go off on the entryway shoe rack. Purse gets hung up on a hook. Package goes under my arm as I take a right to visit the kitchen for a drink and scissors. Glass of water gulped down; I viciously attack the box with the kitchen scissors. Carefully down the center and swiping down the flap’s sides. Inside it’s packed with white tissue paper. Sifting through that is a dainty black drawstring bag. Perhaps made of silk? I pull it open and upend the bag, a piece of fabric falls out and onto the counter. Picking it up and unfolding it reveals it to be… Lacy black panties? Flowery patterns adorn the rear of the undergarment. These patterns continue around the thighs up to the front were a solid circle sits center on the front. Within that circle is what can only be described as a safety pin and the number 3. The flower pattern is nice, and the fabric feels very comfortable in my hands. But the pin and number are odd, seemingly breaking up the aesthetic for no discernable reason. But this certainly feels like something Marna would buy for me. Gosh, she does this all the time. Ha, she’s probably expecting a picture tonight. Eager to get this done I run to the back of the house where the laundry room resides. I strip free of my work clothes and toss them into the washer, adding my new pair of underwear as well. My half-full laundry bin does a nice job filling the rest of the washer, so I add a pod and start it up. While the washer runs, I hop upstairs to where our bedroom, ‘office’, and bathroom reside. After a day like this a long and relaxing bath is required. I get the water temperature just right and plug the tub. Quickly I go to the bedroom and pull together a fresh set of underwear, bra, sweatpants, and a comfy t-shirt. Then it’s bath time. I scrub my hair and body clean, and lounge back, soaking in the warm water. I remain that way until I hear the distant screech of the washing machine. A sign that the load is washed. “Well… I guess it’s time to get out…” I say aloud to myself. Very much not ready to leave. But I do so anyway, drying off with one of the towels from a nearby hook. I throw on my selected outfit and wrap up my hair in order for it to dry better. Downstairs the contents of the washer go into the dryer with a lavender scented dryer sheet. And I forgo TV on the living room couch for the upstairs ‘office’. Which in all actuality is more like the game room. A desk for Marna, and a desk for me. Hers more work-centric with various papers and files. Mine more play-centric with several monitors, a game console or two, and a PC. I take a seat on my gamer chair throne, the back of which feels so much nicer than the rolling chair at the office. No support whatsoever on those. The Switch blinks to life as I grab my pro controller to log some hours onto Pokémon Scarlet. The obviously superior version with the cave-mommy professor. I throw a speed running video onto another monitor, the commentator is funny and I only have to half-listen. I spend roughly an hour in this state, making some progress on my Pokedex when I hear the loud beep from the dryer downstairs. Tearing myself away from the game I rush downstairs and pull the clothes out of the drier and into the clean hamper. The towel wrapped around my hair goes into the dirty bin. I lug the clean laundry through the house, stopping at the kitchen to grab a pack of single serve bottles of wine from the fridge, before going upstairs to our bedroom. The clothing is folded and put away inside drawers and hung up in the closet. The lacy black panty is the only remaining fabric. Down go the clothing on my lower half, and up goes the new underwear and the sweats on top. I toss the one I’d been wearing before back in the underwear drawer… It’s still clean! A few test steps and body positions later and I can easily conclude… “This pair of undies is the tits! So damn comfy! Marna you beautiful bastard, you’ve outdone yourself.” With my only real chore for the evening done I return to gaming heaven with tasty wine in hand. Where I spend the rest of my evening, pausing briefly only to acquire a frozen burrito. And then, so very late at night… Or early in the morning, it is time to sleep. Off goes every article of clothing aside from my brand new underwear, and I slip under the covers. Ah wait, I need to tell Marna how much I love her gift. I roll my eyes. Marna sometimes likes playing dumb when it comes to her little gifts. She can be so silly sometimes. Holding my phone aloft I make sure to get most of my body in the frame and snap a picture. One of my front, my free hand lightly touching the waistband of the underwear while I bite my lip in a sexy albeit buzzed manner. One of my back, my free hand grabbing an exposed ass cheek playfully. The back one may or may not have taken a few attempts… Marna replies quickly, only moments after I’d sent the images. I return her sentiments of adoration and gently lay the phone on the nightstand on my side of the bed. Then, to the best of my ability, I follow her final orders for the evening. My sleepy eyes close. … …. ….. I feel a twinge in my bladder. The alcohol I’d had this evening making itself known. Against my better judgement I can’t bring myself to get up. My body refuses to move a single muscle. “Ooooaaahhh well, I can hold it till morning…” My yawn becomes a self-assurance as I roll over onto my side. Rational thoughts cease as I fall fast into a buzzed slumber. Before I go under, I feel the twinge in my bladder break slightly in relief. A few stray drops of urine escape into the panties hugging my bottom. ~~~ In what feels like no time at all, my eyes open wide and sudden. No longer on my side, I’d shifted in my sleep onto my back. Light breaks through the bedroom window’s curtains, giving good indication it is no longer night, or even morning for that matter. I lay in the warmth of the bed and stretch. Arms and legs crack. Despite creaking my back manages to hold strong. Rolling over I grab my phone, it’s noon. Just in time for lunch! I push myself up into a sitting position on the bed and then stand. “Hah?” Something is off. The panties I’d sung the praises of last night feel different. Like the fabric bunched up while I slept. I guess there’s no such thing as the perfect underwear, there’s always a catch… My thumbs hook into the waistband of the lace underwear except… What they feel is not the light lace from last night. It feels like cotton or something. “What the…” Did I drunkenly wake up last night and put on a new pair? Finally, I look down to see what I’m wearing on my bottom half. It is not in fact the black lacy panties that I’d slipped on last night. But it shares the exact same flowery pattern, color, and safety pin motif. The number on this garment is 2 rather than 3. I run my hand around my butt, feeling the fabric all over. Thicker in some places, lighter in others. The gears in my sleep addled head turn slowly but reach a conclusion based on past experiences. I’ve babysat before, I know what this is… “Why the hell am I wearing cloth training pants?” ___________________________________________________________________________________ Starting the new year off strong with a new short story. Expect only a handful of chapters for this story. This is based off a prompt someone on Twitter gave me. I'll link the prompt on the final chapter, wouldn't want to spoil the story at chapter 1...

This is such an adorable story, I love it. Thanks for sharing!

Big thanks for hosting this contest, especially it being out of pocket and including a second place prize. It was a fun prompt and I'm glad that we had a really good selection of stories, I'm sure that it was a difficult decision on your end. I certainly would've struggled to choose.

Thank you for the comment, I'm glad the story could invoke such feelings in you. I think more people than not have some sort of struggle in their life they can use to empathize with the characters. Sometimes it can feel like the hard times are unending. My apologies but could you remove this post and create a thread for it? This topic is for the story I've written for the 'Virtual Fiction Story Contest'.