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  1. 18-year-old Benjamin has just been evicted from the college dorms after he has failed out of college for the semester. He sits in the student lounge with his bags while he figures out his next moves. His former professor Megan is talking to her faculty friend and sees him sitting alone. She is confused because he is supposed to be in her class for the semester. "Hi Ben. I missed you in my class this semester. Are you okay?"
  2. Diapered on a Camping Trip: Chapter 1 A/N: Here's another story with a slightly different plot than my previous ones. This story focuses on a pre-established Diaper Lover who admits his love of diapers to his rommmate and his rommmate's girlfriend! They all plan a camping trip together, little does he know the couple has more plans for him than roasting marshmallows. General warnings for this story: Sissy activity, dubious consent with regression, wetting diapers, messing diapers. Possible warnings for future chapters that I may or may not get into are: Breastfeeding, enemas, humiliation, and sexual content. I hope you all enjoy! Telling his roommate (and his roommate's girlfriend by proxy) about his diapers was the greatest thing Steven had ever done, he thought as he stacked his suitcase in the back of said roommate's car. At first, it was just out of necessity. After moving out of his parents’ house and into the apartment with his best friend Hayden, Steven was nearly bursting at the seams to finally indulge in his little quirk. The only hang-up was doing it where Hayden wouldn’t see it. Steven ordered his first case of diapers as soon as the last box was unpacked and waited anxiously for it to arrive. “Hey, I have a package coming,” Steven told Hayden casually that morning. “If it shows up before I’m home can you put it in my room?” “Yeah, sure, no sweat,” Hayden said, more focused on making breakfast than questioning what was in the package at all. This continued for the first few months they lived together. Steven occasionally ran into issues disposing of his used diapers discreetly, but that was the only hurdle. That is until Amelia showed up. Amelia was Hayden’s long-time girlfriend. Steven had met her and even hung out with her on a few occasions, but now that they had their own place, she was over almost every day! And she was quite insistent on pulling Steven along in their dates. If there was a movie night, she’d ask him to come watch it with them, if they were going out to dinner, she was asking him to join. It was very sweet of her in a way that didn’t make Steven feel like a third wheel, but at the same time, it encroached on his diaper time. And then it finally came to a head one day. Steven ordered his diapers as usual and waited for them to arrive. Hayden was given the same instructions to just put them on his bed. Only, Steven was mortified to come home after work one day to see Amelia and Hayden digging through his box of diapers right in the living room. Both their heads turned toward him like sharks in freshly chummed water and Steven could barely keep himself from walking out. “Why would you open my mail?!” He cried out in offense, face burning red and charging toward his room. He didn’t care about collecting his diapers right at that moment. He just wanted to hide and never resurface again. Only, Amelia stepped in front of his door with her arms spread wide. “Don’t be mad at Hayden!” She cried, eyes watering. “It was my fault. I ordered some makeup pallets to be delivered here and I thought the package was mine without even looking at the label.” She often had makeup delivered to their apartment so that it didn’t sit out in the sun on her porch. Steven didn’t even think about the possibility of her opening his diapers by mistake. Still, the shame burned bright within him. “Move. I want to go to my room.” He pouted, looking down at his shoes so that he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “Hey, man,” Hayden’s voice called from the couch. “Let’s talk this out, okay? We promised to resolve every conflict before going to our rooms.” That was one of the conditions they created when they moved in together… Steven gave a shaky sigh and plopped onto the couch farthest away from the open box. That night, he explained his diaper inclination to the pair, encouraged by their curious glances without a hint of judgment. And, much to his relief, they were quite accepting of it. To the point where Amelia packed his box back up with care and offered to carry it back into his room. “I think these are the cutest,” She couldn’t help but mention, pointing to the case on top that had little lions on it. “Are you going to wear one tonight?” “Uh,” Steven had stuttered. He did plan on wearing that night, but it was something different to tell her that. “Maybe…” “Don’t be shy if you do,” She said sweetly. “We were planning to watch some movies tonight and I’d hate for you to be too embarrassed to join us. Okay?” And Steven did. From then on, he wasn’t shy about his diaper-wearing around the couple. And everything went back to normal…just with a little bit of diapers involved. And so, as Steven loaded his luggage in the back of Hayden’s car, he couldn’t help but think it was an amazing thing that Amelia opened that box. Because now they were going on a week-long camping trip, he was encouraged to bring his diapers along for the whole trip. Amelia, the sweet woman that she was, even bought a diaper bag to store extra diapers and supplies in for the 12-hour trip to the campsite. Her eyes had been wide with glee as she picked a handful of diapers from his stash to fill the bag with, adding in a bottle of baby powder, wipes, and cream “just in case” she said sweetly. The trio loaded into the car with excitement buzzing all around. Only, Steven blinked in surprise as Hayden followed him to the back seat and made sure his seatbelt was buckled up tightly. “Just making sure you put it on,” He said casually. “Do you need a diaper change before we go?” Steven’s face burned red. “No! I just put this one on!” He said shyly, shifting around to hear the faint crinkling of the thick diaper as if to prove his point. Not deterred at all, Hayden reached down and pulled the front of Steven’s basketball shorts open to peer at the front of his diaper. “Hayden!” Steven cried out embarrassed. “Calm down, I’m just making sure,” Hayden said dismissively, letting the waistband go with a snap. “Diaper butt dry and ready for a roadtrip,” He announced to Amelia. “I wonder for how long that will last,” Amelia giggled much to Steven’s protest. “I can hold it!” Steven denied. “I think he won’t last an hour,” Hayden bet as if Steven hadn’t spoke. “I give him two hours,” Amelia said kindly. “But Steven you have to tell us when you need a change so we know which of us is right.” “I-” Steven stuttered. “No!” “Are you just going to sit in a wet diaper the entire 12 hours?” She asked with concern, making Steven feel just slightly like an asshole. “Baby, that’s bad for your skin!” Head ducking down, Steven muttered, “I’ll say something.” “Yay!” Amelia cheered. __________ Hayden was right, though. Steven barely lasted 45 minutes down the road before his bladder was twitching. It must have been his overzealous diaper usage because he didn’t remember holding his pee taking so much effort. And it didn’t help that Amelia was handing him small bottles of juice from the diaper bag to sip on as the minutes ticked by. Steven’s first wetting happened 48 Minutes into the drive. Embarrassed, and slightly spiteful, Steven kept his mouth shut. He put on enough baby powder and the diaper was thick enough that he was sure it could hold another wetting with no problem. That wetting came followed by 3 more bottles of juice and another wetting only 40 minutes later. Just what was the deal with all this pee? He’d never gone twice in the same two hour span! As the 2 hour marker approached, Amelia and Hayden kept making glances at him from the front seat. But Steven was determined to keep his mouth shut until the first rest stop. “That’s two hours!” Amelia said proudly and unbuckled her seatbelt. Steven watched her confused as the car was still moving. Only, for his surprise, she climbed over the center console and slid into the back seat with him! Her hands fiddled until they unbuckled his seatbelt. But the swell of his diaper was obvious even though the thin basketball shorts. “We have a wet one back here!” She giggled. “Amelia-” Steven tried to protest but was shushed. Amelia pushed and shoved Steven until he was laying down across the back seat and her hands yanked down his basketball shorts without hesitation. “Oh, he’s super wet!” She laughed. Kneeling over him, Amelia pulled up both of Steven’s knees to expose the butt of his diaper. If he wasn’t wearing it, he’d have everything out on display! “This is definitely two wettings. Maybe even three!” “No!” Steven tried to deny only for Amelia’s hand to rest on the front of his diaper and squeeze. “I think so, baby,” She smirked. “You little fibber. I should wash your mouth out with soap! Hayden, toss me the diaper bag.” The diaper bag was tossed back with an answering laugh causing Steven to hide his face in his hands. “Amelia, stop it!” “Stop what?” She asked, rooting around in the diaper bag before pulling out a clean diaper. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just changing a baby’s soaked little pamper.” Steven felt his stomach drop but also his heart flutter. Oh god. There was no way she was actually doing what she said she was. They were in a car! There were no cars around, sure, but they were in a car and she wanted to change him! She never changed him before! And now she suddenly wanted to in a car?! What the hell was going on?!
  3. Introduction What would happen if, no matter how old you are, your parents found your stash? Well, on an already miserable day, that’s exactly what happened to Tom. How will both he and his dad handle it? Chapter 1 - Rejection ‘Well, thank you for coming in today, myself and the panel will discuss the interview and the recruiter will get back to you in due course’. Tom could see in the eyes of the interviewer it was going to be another rejection. He couldn’t understand it, just over a year ago he’d graduated with a 2:1 in Architecture. He thought he’d walk into a job, but he’d applied to every company he could find, and had 15 interviews never getting further than the second round. He couldn’t understand it, what was he doing wrong? Whatever it was it wasn’t how he presented himself. He looked gorgeous in his grey slim fit suit and smart tan shoes. He is 5’9, short jet black hair, with beautiful bright blue eyes, but I guess it’s what you say in interview which is important, not how you look. He stood up, grabbed his posh leather bag his dad had gotten him for his graduation, shook the panel’s hands and made his way out into the busy London street. No sooner had he stepped out the building a rough looking man bumped into him with a cigarette burning a hole right into the shoulder. ‘Hey!’ said Tom. ‘Fuck off, prick’ cursed the man as he hurried on. It was the final straw, a tear rolled down Tom’s face. He couldn’t take much more of life at this point. Everything was falling apart, or that’s how it felt. 23, no job, no friends who are local, his mum has passed away and he’s still living with his grieving dad Steve. After travelling back by train Tom let himself into the house and rushed straight upstairs to his room. ‘How’d the interview go?’ called his Dad from his study. ‘Crap’ shouted back Tom. Once in the room he started to undress. He hung up his suit jacket and inspected the burn. Maybe it could be repaired? Probably not, now he doesn’t even have a suit if he gets another interview. Nevertheless he took off the trousers and placed the suit in its special bag like always, before putting it in the wardrobe. He grabbed his joggers and a t-shirt and turned to lay on his bed, but as he did, he saw something which made his blood run cold. Could this day get any worse? His worst nightmare was lying in front of him. His heart thumped in his chest as if it was about to exit it. His face flushed red, sweat started to bead on his forehead, panic started to set in. Lying there in front of him was one of his adult nappies, and on it a note. “Hey son, let’s talk, love Dad”. Tom had bought these nappies a few months back from a medical supply company whilst his Dad had been away for work. He’d been interested in them for a while. He’d enjoyed the few he’d tried but he’d not had the courage to wear them once his dad got back. He’d hidden them under his bed in a carrier bag, but clearly his dad had found them. He couldn’t believe it, how could this happen? For an hour he sat there thinking of excuses he could make, plausible stories he could tell. “They’re not mine”. “I’ve been having bedwetting problems”, “I…” none of them seemed convincing. He didn’t feel like he could leave the room. After at least an hour and a half his dad called ‘dinner!’ Heart thumping and head racing he made his way down the stairs. He was physically shaking. When he saw his Dad at the table, he froze. ‘So you don’t think they’ll ask you back?’ asked his Dad. ‘No’ Tom tried to say, but nothing came out. ‘No’ he said eventually in his third attempt. ‘Sit down it’s getting cold’ said his Dad gesturing to Toms dinner. Tom made his way over and sat down in silence. For a short while they both ate, but Tom really wasn’t hungry, if anything he felt sick. He just shuffled his food around. When his dad had finished he reached out and put his had on Tom’s. ‘Talk to me Tom’ he said gently, trying to make eye contact. Tom was physically shaking, he couldn’t speak, he was living his worst nightmare. His Dad lent across to him. ‘I found your nappies mate’ he said. Just hearing that out loud drove through Tom like a train. ‘They’re not mine’ he blurted out. It was like a reflex, he heard himself say it, but he didn’t think he’d actually processed what he was going to say yet. His dad gave him a soft smile. ‘I know they’re yours son’. He said softly. ‘Tell me why’ he asked. Tom put his shaking hands over his eyes, tears now starting to well up. ‘Please talk to me son’. ‘I’m sorry Dad, I’m such a failure. I’ve got no friends, I don’t have any hobbies, I can’t get a job, I’m going nowhere. I’m a disappointment. If mum were alive she’d be heartbroken at what a useless adult I’ve become’. ‘Oh don’t be silly’ said his Dad. ‘You’re going through a tough time, I know, we both are, but you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re only 23’ Tom couldn’t look at his Dad, he still had his hands over his eyes. ‘I just wish things were like years ago, when mum was alive, when I was carefree and….happy’ sobbed Tom. ‘Is that why you bought the nappies?’ His dad asked gently. ‘I dunno, I dunno why I bought them’ said Tom regretfully. ‘Do they take you back, to a happy place? Are they a stress reliever for you or something?’ His dad enquired. ‘I guess so, I’m sorry, I’ll throw them away, please don’t think I’m a weirdo or a sicko dad, please’ said Tom. ‘I don’t, I understand, if they relax you and you want to wear them that’s fine. I wore them myself for a bit when I was your age’. Tom immediately pulled his face out of his hands. That was an unexpected sentence. ‘What?’ Said Tom in shock. ‘I wore nappies as a stress reliever, to regress for a few years, never did me any harm, better than drugs or booze’. Said his dad dismissively. Tom didn’t know what to say, he just stared at his dad in shock, and in a strange sense, relief. His dad got up and gestured to Tom to get up and give him a hug. Tom obliged, got up and put his arms around his Dad. ‘You’re still shaking’ he said. ‘This might be the perfect time for one of those nappies’. Chapter 2 - Relief When Tom went back into his room the nappy was still there laying on the bed. Half of him desperately wanted to put it on the other half wanted to throw it out the window. Eventually the half that wanted to wear it won out and he started to unfurl it. After he’d just had permission to hadn’t he? He slowly pulled down his joggers, pulled down his boxers and sat himself on the nappy. He laid back for a moment and stared at the ceiling. “What am I doing?” He repeated to himself, but his desire to carry on pushed through and he slowly and carefully applied the 4 tapes of his Tena Maxi adult nappy. He slowly closed his legs. The nappy popped and crinkled as it resisted. The feeling was amazing, he could feel the stress of this bizarre day drain away. After a while his dad called up. ‘You can come down you know, I want to watch Traitors’. Tom and his Dad had been watching it on catchup together each evening. Tom stood up, his nappy crinkling, not overly loudly, but noticeably in a quiet room. He pulled the joggers over it and looked in the mirror. It wasn’t noticeable from the front. He made his way down and quickly sat in the chair, so his dad couldn’t notice or tell. Tom was hugely into the Traitors on TV, but his mind was elsewhere tonight. As his dad commented on it, he just managed the occasional “yeah” instead of the usual debate. Eventually it finished and his dad switched off the TV. He looked across at Tom expectantly. ‘So did you put one on?’ He asked. Tom paused for a moment. ‘Yeah’ he said shyly. ‘Feel better now?’ asked his Dad. Tom breathed out slowly. ‘Yeah, I guess I do’. He said eventually. ‘Good’ said his dad. If that’s all it takes to relax you, just wear them son, I won’t judge. ‘Can I ask a practical question though?’ ‘What?’ asked Tom uncertain. ‘Do you, wet yourself?’ His dad asked plainly. ‘No!’ exclaimed Tom, as if it was a ridiculous question. He’d worn three on his own, and it had not remotely occurred to him to wet them. It was just the feeling of the bulk he liked. He wasn’t about to start wetting himself! ‘I mean, it’s not a crazy thing to ask Tom’ his Dad said. ‘You’re wearing a nappy and I ask if you wet yourself’. There was an awkward pause. ‘Well, if you do have an accident, I’ll put some bin bags in your room. Take it off, ball it up, put it in the bag, tie it up and put it outside your door, I’ll get rid of it. Don’t put it in the bins in the house, they can smell after a bit’. ‘Oh for god sake dad, I don’t wet myself!’ Repeated Tom as he got up to leave the room. ‘Hey’ called his dad grabbing his arm. ‘Don’t walk off on me, I’m being understanding and supportive. ‘It was a perfectly reasonable question and I wanted to make sure we have a plan for it’. ‘I know, sorry Dad, it’s just weird that’s all’ said Tom genuinely. ‘I guess I’m just embarrassed, y’know’. ‘Yeah I get that son, wearing a nappy is embarrassing, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of, people wear them for all sorts of reasons. As long as they’re helping you, it’s all good, I’m proud of you for talking to me about it at all and doing what makes you happy. I don’t think I could have handled it so well with my dad if he ever found mine’. Tom thought to ask his Dad if he ever wet his nappies, but it just felt too weird. Chapter 3 - The bathroom problem Tom stood in the bathroom cleaning his teeth, then habitually turned to the toilet to do a wee before getting into bed. As he went to grab it his hand slammed into his pad, not his boxers, opps. He reached inside and tried to pull it out the top, but he’s not that well endowed and it wouldn’t reach well enough even with the nappy pulled right down, he’d just pee all over himself. He tucked himself back down, squatted and reached into a leg guard. The guard was tight, but he managed to get the head out and point it to the toilet. He tried to go, but the pressure of the leg guard was stopping the flow. He squatted even more, and eventually wee squirted out, some in the loo, some up the wall and some in the bath. It was very awkward, and it had made a huge mess, but eventually he was done. He hurriedly started to clean up bathroom. Once in his room, he dropped his joggers, took off his t-shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. Like before, half of him thought he looked good with the nappy on, the other half thought he looked like a freak. For a moment he planned to take it off, but ultimately decided against it, he didn’t have many, he didn’t have any money and he didn’t want to waste it. He pulled on his pjs over the top of it. It took a while before he fell asleep, the feel of the nappy seemed somewhat overwhelming. It was keeping him awake, but eventually he did drop of. … He looked over at the clock with one eye, 3:10am. He woke up for a wee at this time every night. For a split second he thought about going in his nappy, but it was just a second. He made his way to the bathroom, where exactly the same thing happened as earlier, except worse, because this time he was half asleep. Like before he hurriedly cleaned up, to what he thought was a good standard, and made his way back to bed. … The following morning, he woke as usual and made his way downstairs. ‘Jam on toast?’ asked his Dad? ‘Yes please’ said Tom still a little sleepy. As his Dad made breakfast, he turned to Tom. ‘Ok, here’s something I gotta say’. He said. ‘If you’re going to wear those nappies in my house, I’d much rather you wee in it and cleanly dispose of it, than wee all over the bathroom’ he said waving the butter knife. ‘Sorry, I thought I cleared up’ said Tom in a bit of a panic. ‘I just need some practice, sorry’. ‘Tom’s’ dad turned around. ‘If you want to wear, but still use the loo. I’ll get you some pull-ups, but if you’re in those it’s just not really practical, unless you remove it, which of course pretty much ruins it. Tom thought again about asking his dad if he’d wet his, but like before it just felt odd and creepy to ask his dad that. ‘I’ll try sitting next time’ said Tom. Chapter 4 - A Subscription! It may surprise you to know that after his shower that day Tom put on regular underpants. He’d had his fill, in fact for the next 2 days, no more nappy and it was only mentioned a couple of times by his dad, gently enquiring whether he was wearing one or not. That doesn’t mean Tom hadn’t thought about what had happened virtually every waking minute. It was just that after the initial rush it just felt too awkward to go about his normal daily routine at home, in front of his dad, with a nappy on. That initial confidence had been lost. Tom was at his computer at about 11am, his Dad was in his study downstairs working. He’s a self employed accountant, he works from home most days, only occasionally going into the city to meet a client. There was a knock at the door. “Sign here please mate” Tom heard the delivery driver say, before several thud sounds. Tom made his way down curiously. In the hall his Dad was positioning 3 large boxes. ‘What you ordered?’ asked Tom. His dad stepped back with a big proud grin. ‘Open one’ he said. Tom stepped forward and pulled the tape off of the box on top and flapped it open. ‘Nappies!?!’ He said in shock. ‘Why have you ordered nappies?’ Tom said with a look of confusion on his face. ‘Because you told me you like to wear them, so I’ve ordered you them for you.’ Tom looked at the huge pile. 21 per pack, 3 in a box, 3 boxes. 189 nappies! ‘Well how many are you expecting me to get through?’ He asked incredulously. ‘I don’t know, but you save on delivery if you spend over £80 and get 10% off if you sign up for a subscription, so I got 3 cases’. ‘A subscription!’ Tom said almost shouting. ‘It’s ok, I can cancel it, there’s no commitment’ said his dad waving it off. ‘Look they’re there if you want one. You feel stressed, or just want one they are there. Take a pack up to your room, I’ll store the rest in the spare room’. Tom walked up to his room carrying his bag of nappies. He couldn’t decide what he thought about it. It had been great that his dad hadn’t freaked out, it had been a huge relief his dad was so supportive, but buying him 3 cases without asking? As Tom looked at the nappies in the pack on his bed next to him, he had an odd feeling. He wanted to put one on of course, but he also now felt this uncomfortable expectation from his that he would, and that if he didn’t his dad be oddly disappointed that he’d wasted his money. He put the pack to one side and made his way downstairs. He tapped on his dad’s study door. ‘I’ve got to ask dad, why have you ordered me three cases of nappies without asking me if I want them?’ His dad turned around on his office chair and took off his reading glasses. ‘Because son, if I’d have asked if you wanted me to order them you’d have said no, and I know you want them deep down. You can’t afford them, and you’d not order when I’m here even if you could, so I just ordered them for you. Save you the anxiety. You’re under no obligation, they’re there if you want them’. Chapter 5 - No obligation Tom’s days were not as full as they could be. He’d get up, have breakfast and then go on the job hunting sites. If there was anything to apply for, he’d apply for it. Generally though he was done by lunchtime and scratching around for something to do. Today was one of those days, he’d applied for one job, he didn’t really like the sound of it, but it was that or apply for nothing. He went over to the pack of nappies that had just arrived and pealed them open. They were the same make as the ones he’d bought, but these were the highest absorbency ‘Ultima’ version. He pulled one out, and held it. Just holding it in his hand gave him a buzz. He un furled it and felt the contrast been the smooth plastic outer shell and soft padded inside. It gave him a magical, warm and excited feeling inside. He slowly pulled down his jeans, then his boxers and laid himself on the bed. Slowly and carefully he pulled the nappy up snuggly between his legs and securely taped it on. Instantly the day went from empty and dull to a whirlwind of emotion. He no longer felt bored, he felt excited. The nappy, that his own dad had bought him no less, sat comfortably and reassuringly between his legs. He reached down and felt it. The bulk was considerable, his man parts locked away beneath the thick padding. He laid on his bed in just his t-shirt and nappy, just enjoying the moment for a while, before lifting himself up from his dreamlike state to stand. The nappy pushed between his legs. As his walked over to his mirror he could feel its presence with every step. He looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw, he thought it looked both cute and smart all at the same time. … “Knock-knock” ‘Hi son I’m done, fancy a walk?’ Called his dad through the door. Tom dived to the floor to grab his jeans and then tried to pull them on in a panic. As he did, his door started to open. Before long he was standing there in front of his dad, trousers half up in a t-shirt and nappy. ‘Ah, you tried one’ said his dad. ‘Like em?’ ‘Err yeah’ said Tom. ‘A bit thicker’ ‘Yeah, I thought well, if you do wet yourself, these will last you a bit longer’. Replied his dad. Tom didn’t know how to reply to that. His instinct was to say ‘I don’t wet myself’ like before, but in truth he was thinking about giving it a go, given how difficult it was to use the loo. ‘I can’t go for a walk in this’ said Tom, pointing to his nappy. ‘Why?’ asked his dad. ‘Err, why do you think?’ Replied Tom. ‘No, genuinely Tom I don’t know why’ his dad replied. ‘Tell me’ ‘People will notice!!’ said Tom. ‘Who’s going to notice?’ said his dad incredulously. ‘You can’t tell it’s there under clothes’ he said confused. ‘It’s a private thing, no one knows what underwear you’ve got on, get over yourself’. Tom finished buttoning up his jeans. They were actually a little tight with his Tena Ultima nappy underneath. ‘I’m going to take it off’ he said as he started unbuttoning again. ‘Right’ said his dad authoritatively. ‘I’m supportive, but to a point. I won’t have piss all over the bathroom and I’m not having you waste nappies by putting them on, then just taking them off again moments later. They’re expensive. Do up your bloody trousers and stop being silly’ Tom didn’t really know what to say. He stopped unbuttoning. ‘Does it really not show?’ ‘No son, it doesn’t’. Now come on it’s a nice day, let’s get some fresh air. … As Tom walked along the bulk of the nappy was present with every step. Both he and his dad were fast walkers, but in his nappy and tight jeans he was struggling to keep up a little. It was a beautiful day. They went to the park, had an ice cream and on the way back walked past the local pub. ‘Fancy a cheeky pint?’ Asked his dad. They often went into the pup together. ‘Yeah, why not’ said Tom. They both had a couple of pints before it was time to leave. They didn’t talk about Toms nappy at all, mostly about the Traitors on TV. ‘Ok, I’m going to pop to the loo and then we’ll head off’ said his Dad. ‘Ah yeah, me too’ said Tom. His dad stopped and looked at him. ‘You do make me laugh, why are you doing it to yourself? You can’t wee all over the floor in a public bathroom, it’s rude and disrespectful’. Tom looked at him, kinda accepting that he had a point. Whilst it felt so crazy to wet himself, as his dad became more accepting and as Tom was waddling around in the nappy anyway, it felt increasingly silly to not use it for what it was designed for. ‘The thing is son’ said his dad. ‘They deteriorate after 4-6 hours anyway, so you gotta change it whether you use it or not, you may as well use it. Tom stood and waited whilst his dad went to the loo. He was breaking his neck, but he couldn’t go. Something in his brain was telling him no. He couldn’t just wet himself right there in the middle of the pub! As they walked back, Tom was getting increasingly desperate and his dad noticed. Tom was walking quicker and quicker and couldn’t stop grabbing his crotch. His bladder felt like it was going to burst. ‘Stop walking a minute’ said his dad, stopping himself. Tom stopped, the urge unbearable. ‘If you don’t let it go you’ll hurt your kidneys. That’s what I did, it was agony for days. That’s why I’m trying to help you. Just go, you don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me’ With that Tom’s bladder burst, right there in the street. Wee poured uncontrollably into his nappy. He stared desperately at his jeans in the full expectation that wee would be pouring down them, but it was not. What he could feel though was his nappy expanding and getting larger and tighter in his jeans. After what felt like forever, he stopped. ‘Come on then’ said his said. As Tom walked on the nappy felt completely different to before. It was much much bulkier, oddly to him though it didn’t feel at all wet. It had clearly absorbed all the wee and left him dry, which was pretty amazing actually, who’d have thought they’d work so well? It felt so strange yet at the same time so comforting to have had an accident and been protected by his nappy. It also made him feel small, having just stood there in front of his dad and wet himself. As they walked along his dad turned to him and chuckled. ‘So I guess that answers my question. You do wet yourself.’ Chapter 6 - Something awkward Over the next few days Tom had worn a nappy on and off, even when wearing all but a couple of very carefully managed wees has been in the toilet, with great difficulty. He was really conflicted about whether to wear one or not. Even though his dad was fine with it, almost encouraging it, he was still embarrassed to talk about it, and felt a little silly with it on. Things had been reasonably normal. His dad had enquired occasionally as to the state of his nappy, but it wasn’t often. Just things like. “If you’re wet son, don’t forget to change regularly”. His dad had also bought him some powders and creams and impressed upon him the importance of good skin care and hygiene. “Wearing nappies isn’t dirty or gross son, but you do need to up your game on hygiene and skin care” he’d said. … As they sat and watched tv that evening, Tom decided he’d do a wee in his nappy. He stood and after a few odd movements he started to wet himself. ‘Good lad, I notice you’re getting better at that’ said his dad. Tom stood a while longer until he’d finished, then sat back down in his now wet nappy and finally said something that was increasingly bothering him. ‘Dad’ he said. ‘Can I ask you something really awkward?’ His dad switched off the tv and looked at him with suspicion. ‘Okaaay’ he said slowly, Tom took a deep breath. ‘Do you like me in nappies?’ He eventually asked. ‘What do you mean?’ asked his dad. ‘Well, like just then, and other times, you seem to be encouraging it. Like you want me to be in nappies and wet myself and stuff’ asked Tom. His dad moved his gaze away for a moment thinking about what he was going to say. Eventually he returned to Tom. ‘It’s not about me, it’s about you son. I just want you to have what I never had, an understanding parent during this part of your life. It’s obviously in our genes to like this. I’ve passed it on to you. I want it to be as easy and enjoyable as possible for you to go through. Not like my experience. I’d have loved my dad to have accepted my nappy wearing, but I never got it, and I never got to find out what he would have done or said.’ ‘I see’ said Tom. ‘Granddad never knew?’ What would you have wanted granddad to do or say?’ Asked Tom. ‘I’d have liked him to say it’s fine, I’d have liked acceptance, I’d have liked….to have…well it doesn’t matter’. ‘No do say’ said Tom. ‘Heck, we’re beyond holding back aren’t we?’ Tom’s Dad paused for a considerable time. ‘I’d have liked him to change me. BUT that doesn’t mean I’m asking to change you!’ He blurted out Tom sat there, looking at his Dad. ‘Do you want to change me then?’ He asked gingerly. ‘No, No!’ said his dad definitely. ‘That’s not what I meant, I wish I’d not said that’ ‘You don’t want to, or you feel like you don’t want to ask?’ ask Tom. His dad looked increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I can’t do this’ he said starting to stand. Tom grabbed his arm like he had his a couple of days before’. His dad sat back down. ‘What do you want from this?’ Asked Tom. ‘Why are you so supportive? Why are you buying them for me?’ Asked Tom ‘Son please’ said his dad desperately trying to end the conversation. ‘No, come on dad, we gotta have this discussion’ insisted Tom. His dad started to claw at the said of the chair. ‘Because I remember how much I wanted to go back into nappies, and if I’m honest a part of me still does want to occasionally. I remember bottling it up for years, the anxiety of trying it, hiding it, feeling wrong and weird. When I discovered you’d inherited this from me I decided I didn’t want you to go through what I did. I wanted you to be yourself, be happy, fulfil your desires, be content in yourself’. Tom didn’t know what to say. His dad went on. ‘And if I’m completely honest, I want to share in your joy of it, in a way I never got to. Sorry I know that’s selfish, I don’t want to put you under any pressure, this mustn’t be about me’. ‘I really do appreciate that dad, thanks so much’ said Tom as he came over for a hug. ‘Have I got it right?’ His dad asked ‘What do you mean?’ Asked Tom ‘Do they make you feel how I think they do?’ ‘They do make me feel happy and relaxed’ said Tom. ‘A kind of contentment I’ve not felt in a long time’. ‘Then tell me son, tell me why you shouldn’t wear them as much as you want?’ After a long pause ‘When I say I’m not asking to change you, please don’t think it’s because I wouldn’t. If you asked I’d be right there for you, but I’d never put you under any pressure to, you know that don’t you?’ ‘Yeah I know that dad’ said Tom. ‘I’m not sure that’s something I could handle, at least not now’.
  4. Ken entered the door to his red-bricked mansion with a bit of a sigh, yet a confident smile on his face. As CEO of a multibillion-dollar company, he was very much accustomed to long days. Grabbing a Mountain Dew and plopping on the couch, he barely took notice that Sarah wasn’t there, figuring she must still be with those brats. He flipped to the big basketball game and waited.
  5. The start plays in my head how we got here, We had been friends since diapers, growing up I was always the defacto leader of us. As we grew through the years I used anything I could to tease you both in private and public, friends strangers it didnt matter to me. Giving wedgies and panting you were everyday things, the worst though was when ever I brought up your constant bed wetting and the never ending need for diapers. Even after you stopped and grew up bigger than me I used it to put you down, anyone new we would meet would quickly learn of it. I had just turned 19 and we both started college and decided to move in together it didnt take you long to discover my deepest seceret. The first time you had walked into my room early morning and caught me jerking my 3 inch dick. You quickly closed the door and never mentioned it but as the weeks went on a plan formed in your mind, maybe it was time for some revenge and take me down a few pegs. One night after getting super high a bet was made loser had to suck the winner off, an hour later found me naked on my knees, your load fresh on my face, and your phone up having filmed the whole thing with my hard peeppee hard as i passed out you locked a pink chastity on me, you were in control now. So this is kinda the flashback to how this story starts i would like to discuss where this might go and what you are willing to write. I try to write about that much at a time and I try to post daily at least.
  6. Hi, this story was written together with my new friend tini baby Ami 🧸. Feel free to follow her on twitter she is a very nice and very nice girl. You can find her at this link: https://x.com/bbyybratt I also remind you that I have a ream account: https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon If you sign up for my account you will get early access to the next chapters of stories I am publishing and access to new exclusive stories. Also you can request a custom story a bit like I did with ami. "Yawnnn" yawned ami with her eyes still half-closed. She was lying on her stomach with her legs spread apart because of the extra bulk of her diaper and her favorite teddy bear beside her. Through the bars of her crib she looked at the clock hanging on the relative in her bedroom: it was 8:30 am...it was early...her dad would come to wake her up at 9:00 am. She stretched herself out by sitting up, her heavily soaked diaper still attached to her. The soft garment wrapped around her legs binding firmly to her hips. The diaper covered her belly button, tightening toward her pubis and then opening to cover her entire bottom. She felt the wet plastic touching her skin, the sensation was not unpleasant too bad too bad that the contents of her diaper had now cooled overnight. Grabbing onto the bars of the crib,Shegot on his knees, feeling the diaper sag under the effect of gravity. She did not want to wait any longer and standing on the mattress began to shout," Daddyyyy." She wanted so badly to get out of her crib and start the day that she found herself jumping on the mattress trying to raise her voice. With each jump her wet diaper moved in harmony with her rustling with her every movement. Good morning baby," said ami's boyfriend as he entered the bedroom. "Someone here needs a clean diaper," she continued but ami ignored him too excited by the sight of her daddy. " Do you know what day it is today " ami said. Her boyfriend lowered the side of the crib and before the padded girl knew it she was in his arms. She could feel her boyfriend's strong hands sistering her by squeezing her padded bottom as she crossed her legs around his back. "Happy birthday baby," he said, kissing her on the pacifier. Ami returned the kiss by pushing her head back to her boyfriend's face. " Thank you daddy," she whispered, smiling from behind her pacifier. "Let's go to the kitchen, I have a surprise for you." Ami clung even tighter to the boy as she was carried in his arms toward the kitchen. She had her back to the direction of travel so the surprise was even better: at one side of the table was an adult high chair. "O my god it is beautiful " said ami. She was speechless.The high chair was tall and sturdy, light pink with a white cushion and a backrest that reached up to her head.The frame of the high chair had a small white table that lowered to rest the dishes. Ami gasped when her boyfriend closed the three-point belt between her legs tightening her diaper. Her legs were dangling even though the coffee table prevented her from seeing them. "I want pancakes!" Said Ami "Okay, but how do you say it?" replied the boy. " Pleaseeeee" replied ami trying to make his eyes soft. And in the blink of an eye in front of her, on the tray of the high chair, appeared a colorful plate with a stack of golden pancakes, still warm and fluffy, giving off an inviting scent of vanilla and butter. The little girl picked up a plastic fork, with a child-sized ergonomic handle, and tried to stab a small piece of pancake. She had a concentrated expression on her face, with her tongue sticking out slightly as she strove to complete the task. A few pieces of pancakes are already scattered on the tray, and around his mouth she has traces of maple syrup, which Father gently poured over the pancakes before serving them. She made little sounds of joy and satisfaction at the first bite; they were delicious. He took a sip of apple juice from his favorite bottle, trying not to spill it all over himself. Eventually 1/3 of the food ended up on his bib and his mouth. Her boyfriend sighed; it was a great achievement that ami had been able to eat almost everything. "Shall we change that diaper?" She said at the end of breakfast. The little girl raised her huge eyes to her boyfriend and nodded, putting the pacifier back in her mouth. Her boy unbuckled her high chair belt, leaving her free to climb down. She giggled when she saw ami's butt sway with every step she took. Ami giggled as she lay down on the changing table and got a full view of the state of her diaper: it was really time to change. Daddy began to speak softly as he opened the package of diapers, "I know a story: once upon a time there was a little princess named Ami. She was sweet and brave, and her daddy was her personal knight. Every morning, after a fabulous breakfast, the knight helped her get ready for new adventures." As she talked, Daddy gently cleaned Ami with wet wipes, being careful not to tickle her. Then, he took a fresh, pink and white diaper with a bunny drawn on it and placed it under her. "And then what happened, Dad?" asked Ami, completely absorbed in the story. "Then Princess Ami wore her new, soft, fragrant magic dress," Daddy continued, carefully closing the diaper. "And together with her knight, they explored the kingdom, discovering new wonders and facing small challenges with courage and a smile." Ami laughed, happy and reassured. "And the knight was always there to help the princess, wasn't he?" "That's right, my dear," Daddy replied, lifting her from the changing table and giving her an affectionate kiss on the forehead. "Always here to make sure your princess was happy and safe." Ami hugged her dad tightly, feeling all the love and protection that only he could give. "Thank you, daddy. You are the best knight ever." Father smiled, holding her close. "And you are my favorite princess, Ami. Now let's go play, the kingdom is waiting for us!" She sat down, looking at the capovaloro that her fiancé had accomplished: in the front, the diaper was decorated with a stylized lion, its orange mane standing out brightly against the white background. The lion's cute smile was framed by small colorful patterns and stars, creating a playful and welcoming atmosphere. There was also a small rainbow above the lion, adding a touch of magic to the design. Looking at his butt in the mirror Ami found another lion, but this time inside a rainbow, which seemed to embrace him with its pastel colors. When the inspection was over, Ami put on her favorite pink T-shirt and a short white skirt that, with each step, gave a glimpse of the colorful diaper underneath. The skirt moved lightly as she ran toward the exit, eager to begin her adventure in the park. "Ready to go to the park, princess?" asked Daddy, taking her hand while holding a diaper bag in the other. "Yes, Dad! I can't wait!" replied Ami with a radiant smile. Together, they walked along the path that led to the park, enjoying the warm sunshine and the birds singing. Ami squeezed her daddy's hand, feeling like a little girl in a world full of surprises. Once they arrived at the park, her eyes lit up as she saw the games: swings, slides, and lots of other children laughing and playing. "Can I go on the slides, Dad?" asked Ami, already heading toward the play area. "Sure, honey. Go and have a good time. I'll be right here watching you," Dad replied, sitting down on a nearby bench and grabbing a book to read. Ami ran to the slides, her heart full of excitement. She climbed the ladder with agility and sat at the top of the slide, ready to go down. Not realizing that she was showing everyone her padded bottom. With a squeal of delight, she launched herself down, feeling the coolness of the metal beneath her and the soft diaper that protected her. Each time she slid down, she heard the gentle rustle of the diaper, which gave her a feeling of safety and comfort. After a few laps she felt the diaper warm up as she peed in it. Her daddy looked at her proudly, appreciating her joy and energy. "You're doing great, Ami!" he shouted to her when she reached the end of the slide. Ami climbed right back up, repeating the game over and over again, never getting tired. Each descent was a new adventure, and her daddy was always there to encourage her and share in her laughter. After a while, Ami decided to explore the swings as well. She sat on one of the swings and began to swing, feeling the wind in her hair and the beat of her heart synchronizing with the movement. Once again, the diaper offered comfortable protection, allowing her to fully enjoy the game without any thought. "Dad! You push me higher and higher!" cried Ami, rocking harder and harder. "Up!" She cried out as her boyfriend pushed her from her padded bottom. Then suddenly she broke away and with flight landed in front of the swing, her skirt went up and everyone saw ami's used diaper. But no one cared: she was a child like the others. After about half an hour ami felt a little discomfort in his belly. She knew what it meant: she had to poop. She paused for a moment, thinking about what to do. She had two options: run to her daddy and tell him so they could go home, or do it in her diaper and keep playing. She looked at her boyfriend sitting on the bench, smiling at her encouragingly. Ami thought about how much fun she was having and did not want to stop the game. She therefore decided to use her diaper. She squatted down behind a large plant near the slides, out of sight of the other children, and relaxed. The initial feeling was a little strange, but the diaper was designed to handle such situations, and she soon felt more comfortable. Once she was done, she stood up again, feeling the weight of the diaper but also great relief. she took a deep breath glad she did not have to interrupt his day at the park. She chuckled when she touched his padded butt with his right hand to feel the lump that had just formed. “Let's get back to playing,” she said, adjusting her skirt. As she played, she felt the smell from her diaper, but it did not bother her. She was happy that she could continue to have fun without worry. With her diaper loaded she climbed up the slide and without thinking about it she let herself fall onto the hard plastic feeling all the contents of the diaper squish against her. As she finished her descent, she turned to look at the state of her diaper: the lump was gone and the plastic looked amazingly smooth "Well at least it's not noticeable now," She said, chuckling. Around lunchtime "Daddy!" called Ami, running toward him. "I've been playing so much!" "I'm glad you're having fun, honey," Daddy replied, hugging her. " here someone smells like a little girl who pooped herself," he said, squeezing her padded bottom. "Oops," chuckled Ami, "I'm the princess with the stinky diaper," she said, almost bursting out laughing. "Let's go home and have lunch, I have a surprise for you." When they arrived home, Daddy picked her up and carried her to her nursery. "It's time to change you, princess," he said softly, setting her down on the changing table. The change was not so simple; Ami, however, was eager to know what the surprise was that Father had promised her. She kept moving, turning around and trying to peek into the room. "Daddy, Daddy! What's the surprise?" she asked excitedly, unable to sit still. "Just a moment, Ami. First I'll change you, and then you'll see," Father replied, trying to calm his inexhaustible energy. As Daddy removed her soiled diaper and gently cleaned her, Ami half-pulled herself up, still without a diaper, trying to see what Daddy was preparing. "What a mess I made," she said, commenting on the state of her dirty open diaper. "You've done worse, remember that time at the Mexican's," he said. "LOL, my diaper was up to my knees," replied ami laughing. "Come on give me a hint," she said clutching her legs. "Ami, stand still for a moment, otherwise I can't finish changing you," said Father, laughing. "I promise you'll see the surprise in no time." Ami lay down again, but kept moving, tapping her little feet impatiently. Daddy finished cleaning her and put a fresh diaper on her, trying to be quick but without neglecting gentleness. "Are you ready, princess?" asked daddy, helping her to her feet and removing her shirt. Leaving ami only in her diaper on. "Yes, yes, yes!" replied Ami, jumping for joy. Her breasts bounced with her ( kind of like her diaper) "Now can I see the surprise?" Ami was returned to the high chair. "Yes, you can now," Father said with a smile. "But you have to close your eyes." Ami closed her eyes, excited. She heard Papa moving around in the kitchen and then a faint sound of something large being placed in front of her. "You can open your eyes now, Ami." When she opened her eyes, Ami saw a giant cream cake, decorated with fresh strawberries, right in front of her high chair. The cake was tall and fluffy, and the cream looked super soft. "Oh, Dad! She is beautiful!" exclaimed Ami, her eyes wide with surprise. "And there's another detail," Dad said with a mischievous smile. "Today you will eat cake with your hands!" Ami laughed, amused by the idea. "Really, Dad?" "Really. It's a special day, and I want you to enjoy it," Dad replied, patting her on the head. Ami wasted no time. She sank her hands into the soft cream, feeling the freshness and softness between her fingers. She took a large piece of cake and brought it to her mouth, smearing her cheeks and laughing with delight. The cream was sweet and velvety, a strawberry fell right in the middle of her breast. Her boyfriend looked at her, laughing and taking a few photos to capture that precious moment. "You look really lovely, Ami. I hope you like the cake." "It's the best cake ever!" replied Ami, her mouth full and the cream dripping onto her hands and body. Each bite was a feast of flavors, and each time she sank her hands into the cake, she felt happier and more loved. She continued to eat enthusiastically, getting dirtier and dirtier. The cake seemed endless, but Ami did not stop until the plate was empty. "Ahhh," she sighed as she leaned back in the back of the high chair and emptied her own bladder into her diaper. After a while, when the cake was almost finished and Ami was covered in cream, Daddy picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. "It's time for a good cleaning, princess." End of part 1
  7. Hi there all! My name's Anthony - I'm trying to get back into the ABDL community after a long hiatus. I identify as a Daddy/Caregiver primarily interested in adult baby girls. I am looking for a partner, ideally a girl around my age or an older woman with more experience. I'm also excited to meet friends in the community. I've tried other sites to meet people in the Twin Cities but they are a lot more focused on other kink and not necessarily ABDL or diapers for that matter.
  8. Anyone in the Topeka/Lawrence are looking to baby someone?
  9. In a certain sense, incontinence is like an empty gas tank. At some point you're driving and something has to be done about it and if you don't, you're going to be waylaid. Often it's smart to pre-empt the needs of your tank. The only difference is the obvious, that being empty and being full mean quite different things when it comes to gas tanks and diapers. I have, unfortunately, been known to run on fumes. In other senses, incontinence is like trying to keep a sandcastle from slumping and oozing into the dunes of the beach. Too wet or too dry, your magnificent plans are always coming back down to mush. Sometimes I describe it as a constant choose-your-own-adventure picture book. Except that it is one where almost all of the outcomes are bad (LEAKED - WOMP WOMP), where every 'picture' is a dark spot on my ass. I have, unfortunately, been known to be as bad at incontinence as I am bad at continence. But this story isn't about incontinence. Well it is, don't get me wrong. I don't have any stories about myself that don't include a diaper. This is about refilling the tank. This is about keeping the sandcastle up. This is about finding that final, glorious page of the picture book where something other than 'GET WET, LOSER' is written. I live with my boyfriend, whose name is Pete. He likes me for every other reason than my babyishness, but he likes that too. He doesn't mind that I'm too fraidy-scared to drive. He is totally okay that half of our cabinets are filled with sippy cups and disney plates – the ones with the little dividers and princess painted on them. He doesn't mind that I occasionally, without even noticing, shove my thumb into my mouth, though he does make me take it out for a pacifier if I do. He doesn't mind that I screech when I see a bug, though to be fair, who really really likes bugs anyway? It started in the middle of the night. I woke up confused and disoriented. I both knew why I was awake and at the same time, I couldn't figure it out. What was that, down there, on my butt? Is it Pete kicking me in his sleep? Is Gubbles, our cat, making biscuits on my tush? An intruder? Did the pillow get in between us to rest on my butt? What the... I realized that it was what it always was. The mess is what wakes me up. I never awaken with cramps with time to hop out of bed. That would be hopeless anyway. I'd probably just end up elbowing Pete in the face. After that, I'd trip on the covers. I'd step on Gubbles. I'd run headlong into the bathroom door. And despite all of the bumps and bruises and general carnage my midnight rush would cause, my diaper would still wind up heavy. No, any dramatic hope of getting to the potty is beyond me. I'm going to shit the bed and I'm going to find out after the fact. Now, the next thing here Daddy definitely should not know. I went back to sleep. I waited until the movement stopped and then I put a hand down there to feel it. It wasn't a ton. It wasn't anything in the emergency category. It really never is. I wear a special extra pad in the back part of the diaper for exactly this reason, and I usually don't need it. Sometimes I wrongly assess how much poop is really down there. Like I said, I'm not very good at being incontinent. Daddy – Pete – says that I should deal with it anyway, and no matter how disoriented he is, he is always willing to help no matter the hour. I know that I'm supposed to wake him up. But I also know that when poop does wind up in my diaper, like now, I'm supposed to wait. You never quite know when you're done. Well I don't, at least. So I crack my back and roll over to see if the smell or if the sounds of my toots have woken up Daddy, but they haven't. I tell myself I'm going to wait to see if there is more, and then I'll wake him up. I definitely don't want to wake him up for messy diapers twice in the same night, right? He has to work tomorrow, after all. So I wait, knowing full well that no matter how much poop is in the diaper right now, I'll have no trouble falling asleep...if I just don't...close...my...eyes... I wake up sometime later with a foreign hand on my hip. It's pushing me. Why? I wanna be here! Whyyy? Oh. I let it push me on my back. The dream I'm having surges back until I feel a cold feeling on my legs. The jammies are gone. Whyyy? I pull a hand towards my face and it gets most of the way there but then the dreams come back. Something about a beach...sandcastles...sandcastles melting and sand in my diaper... Not sand. I woke up to see Daddy. He's done more than push me on my back and take my jammies off. There is a new diaper on the corner of the bed. There is the powder and the wipes beside it. There is light coming from the lamp by the bed. I'm no longer by the pillows, I'm at the end of the bed. And there is something under my bum and I can feel the edge of it against my back. "Hi," I said. "Hi," he said. And that's all we needed to say. At some point my doodoo must have woken him up. Now my legs were up, now they were down again. In his tiredness he forgot the cold wipe countdown and I squealed. He didn't say sorry, but he put a hand on my tummy and told me that it was okay. I woke up again sometime later. The smell of poopy was all gone. I didn't even remember the rest of the diaper change. I didn't remember him taking the diaper downstairs to the bathroom with the genie. He didn't like putting the dirty ones in the upstairs genie. I don't remember him going in and washing his hands or spraying the febreeze or turning the fan on or opening the window, though now I could hear the constant tread of heavy rubber tires on the street below. I don't remember him coming back to bed, or if he kissed me on the forehead or tummy once as he did. But he was next to me. His back was turned. I moved to snuggle into him. I don't make a very good big spoon but I like to try. As I do, I realize that the butt of my diaper is stiff and bloated. I try to tell myself that it's not bad enough for Daddy to change me before breakfast, but I know that he probably will if he sees it. I fall asleep again and don't wake up until his alarm goes off. I get up fast. I'd fallen asleep too fast during my nighttime change for Daddy to put my jammies back on, so I found them in the laundry basket and put them back on. I realized that they still kind of smelled but I honestly didn't care. Carliah is a pooper, that's what it is, and poopy probably isn't done with me today yet anyway. Oh no. It wasn't. It definitely wasn't. That's why I'm telling this story. I try to sneak out of the bedroom once the jammies are over my diaper. It's even wetter than it was when I woke up and snuggled earlier. Even worse, the pee pee smells because it's been since the evening since I had any wa-wa. Thinking of that, I find my baba on the bedside table and take a slurp. I figured I'd have a quick sip and then go down to fill it with cold water. All so I can stay away from Daddy and enjoy my pee pee diaper for a little longer. But the slurps from the bottle turn out to be an oopsie, and Daddy wakes up. "Come here," he said, after aching and stretching under the covers. His eyes aren't open yet. One of his hands flops to the edge of the bed and beckons me. I try to ignore his command. "Hi Daddy!" I say. "Hi Carliah," he said. "Come here." "I'm thirsty." "Come here." I try to step around him anyway. I don't want a change and I know it's on his mind. My diaper crunches under my jammies, though, and despite his eyes being closed, he can hone in on my location with ease. His hand lashes out and grasps my back until it closes around my wrist. Rats. "Daddy!" I say, trying to sound as meek as I can. It's probably a miscalculation. Sounding small will only make Daddy harder under the covers, and a hard Daddy means, paradoxically, a dry Carliah. At least in this situation. I'm certainly wet in a brand new way as I feel his fingers enclose around my arm. I'm too horny to yank myself away. But I do try to turn towards him. I can feel where the pee is and its where it usually is – in the back. If he's lazy and he just pats the front he might not lay me down on the bed. But even if he's grunting with every movement of his body. Even if every joint cracks as he slugs his way to the edge of the mattress. Even as yellow gunk falls off his eyelids. Daddy doesn't settle for just patting the front. He tells me to spin around and presses in the shield of the diaper. His hand does not find the crunchy plastic of a dry diaper. Not even close. He leans forward and sniffs. "Daddy!" I say. "Are you pooped?" "No I'm not pooped Daddy," I say. "Smells like it," he says. I think for a second. Sometimes, poop can take me by surprise simply because I'm just so used to it being down there. But I don't think that it's the case this time. I came up with a reason. "I put my jammies back on," he said. "Okay," he says. There is a pause. "Lay down." "Daddy!" "You're too wet." "Daddy!" I say, tugging on his grip. He doesn't release and I'm still too horny to really fight. I couldn't get away anyway if I did. Soon enough I'm on my back. Once again. Daddy, more awake now, decides to give me a morning lecture. "The weather is getting warmer," he says, pointing at the window. "You know how it gets in the summer, Carliah. You know that we need to stay on top of it." "I know." "So I don't want you to fight me. I want you to help stay on top of it too. Were you trying to sneak out of here with this diaper?" "No." "Carliah. Did you wake up when you did your poopy last night?" "No! Daddy, please!" "Carliah?" "What Daddy?" "Be good. And lift your butt. That's better." Daddy was right. It was getting warm, and Spring was coming through the windows. I didn't put my jammies back on. I wore one of Daddy's t-shirts and long socks past my knees and I sat down on the couch. I had to fix my diaper a little; it wasn't one of daddy's best tape-jobs, but I couldn't complain because I'd been fussy and he'd been groggy. Daddy made me toast and some eggs and laid them down on the coffee table. He had picked one of the baby plates, this one with Belle from Beauty and the Beast. He had made himself the same thing, complete with a coffee. He poured me juice, though, and put it in a sippy cup so I couldn't spill. "Aww, I forgot the apples," he said. "It's okay!" I said, popping up. "I can get them." Daddy looked at my diaper, which flashed before his t-shirt fell over it to cover it. "Thank you honey," he said. I walked over to the kitchen. I tucked a hand under my shirt to feel that yes, my diaper was still actually dry. I still missed my big wet diaper, but this felt good too. Like a full tank of gas. Like a newly washed car, complete with its own new smell of plastic and powder and lavender lotion. Like a brain that was freshly snoozed, with no weblike gunk between the ears, ready to think big smart thoughts through the whole day.. I leaned across the counter with both hands to grab two apples. Carliah Garcia is not someone blessed with hands big enough to hold two apples in one hand at the same time. Perhaps it was the way my tummy contorted against the marble countertop. Maybe it was my movement, or perhaps the prospect of food. Food is always a catalyst; mealtime becomes change-time. I'm rarely in a state to order dessert, if you know what I mean. Sometimes the check can't come soon enough. But today, all I needed was to reach for two apples. And then that new car smell was gone. It hit my diaper in a flash. Like someone had pulled open the back and dropped a fist-sized rock right into the seat. Pee surged out too, as if it had been waiting for the time to strike. It came out with a fart too. Daddy looked up at me. He had a big mouthful of toast. "Everything okay, honey?" I knew I was blushing. I knew he could probably hear what had happened too. I stood there, arms outstretched, with two apples. "Carliah?" "Should I wash the apples?" I asked. Daddy smiled. "Yes Carliah, of course. Just a quick rinse. But you don't have to cut them up." "Okay!" I said, inflecting my voice as positively as I could to avoid my embarrassment. And disappointment. I had just convinced myself that my clean diaper was cozy. I did as I was told for the apples. I did not do as I was told earlier about my accident. About how it was getting warmer and I needed to be responsible. Instead, I sat down on the couch. I'll tell you that as soon as I did, I was no longer sad that I'd ruined a clean diaper. It felt good. It wouldn't last long, of course, Daddy was right there and would smell it, surely. Honestly, it was a perfect diaper. Not enough pee or poop to leak, but just enough that I couldn't forget it. You could say that an incontinent lass like me has developed her own, refined tastes. I'd really be like this all day every day if I could. With every bite of my toast I wormed my but into the couch a little more, squishing it further. If Daddy wasn't there, I'd make rubbies for sure. But he wouldn't allow it. He wasn't cross, but he was more in the mood for a lecture than indulgence. I expected him to give me a lecture about how I was supposed to get used to changing it myself this summer when he caught me. But he didn't catch me. We finished our breakfasts. He got on his phone and read emails or texts, I couldn't tell which. When I was done eating, he took our plates away. While he was in the kitchen I snuck a few rubbies in. Just a little. When I heard his footsteps again I stopped quickly, but the feeling was too good. I brought my heel against the crotch of my diaper and dug it in. I examined my split ends while gently rocking on my foot. I assumed it was change-time when he came by to kiss me on the head, but once again, he didn't lift my shirt and he did not begin to sniff around. Instead, he went back upstairs to get ready for work. I watched him disappear. Then I mounted the couch's armrest. I rode it almost all the way until I had an orgasm. But Daddy's feet appeared at the top of the stairs and I had to throw myself off on the couch. My diaper didn't feel so good anymore; the motion on the couch had distended and mushed it further. But I figured Daddy was taking me up to the bed and towel in just a moment, so it didn't matter. "Watcha doing?" he asked. He stopped beside the couch. He could probably see my diaper, but it didn't matter now. I was kinda hoping for that change. "Nothin. Still sleepy." "Okay. You'll remember to look at the chore list we made last night, right?" "Yes Daddy." "And I'll be home for lunch, as usual." "Yes Daddy." He took a step around the couch. I was sure he was going to lift his shirt off of me and patt my bum. But he didn't. He pulled my hair aside and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek. "Anything else, honey?" "Hm?" "Are you all good?" I don't know how long it took me to respond. It felt like forever. But since he gave me another kiss, it couldn't have been that long. "I'm good, Daddy," I said. And then he turned and left out the door, smiling at me as he shut it and locked it behind him. To say that I was quite in shock was an understatement. Sure, the poop in my diaper wasn't the biggest ever, but it wasn't nothing. It was definitely poop and there was no way that Daddy would have missed it. It had been almost an hour since he'd grabbed my wrist beside the bed too, and he always checks me more than that. And then I realized that he knew. Of course he knew. And I lied. And he knew I lied. I ran upstairs and got my phone. It was a weird feeling, to move quickly with that much stuff smushed in there, but trust me, I've felt weirder. I found my phone under the covers and texted him. "Daddy," I wrote. "I messed up." "I just thought you were going to change it yourself." "But it's messsyyyyyyy," she said. "I think you can handle it." "Daddy!" "Daddy what?" "Daddy please?" Daddy came back in and marched up the stairs. I got the towel out for him, as well as the wipes and a new diaper. He put the diaper back in the drawer and procured a thinner one. "I want a thick diaper," I said, sucking my thumb. He batted my hand away. There was no time to find a pacifier, but he did scan the bed for one closeby anyway. "You're going to get a thinner diaper. If you leak, you're in trouble." "But I have to wait until you get home for lunch!" "Only if you don't change it yourself." There was no more discussion. I submitted to his wipes. He told me he was disappointed that I lied, and that we'd have a discussion about it later. He also reminded me of how much cream he'd needed to use last summer, and how much I whined about the rash. I took it all in silence. Soon enough, I was back in a thin diaper and alone until lunch. I was clean. I know what you'll think about this next part. You're going to say...Carliah, that's not real. You're going to say, Carliah, you're only five-foot-two. You didn't have steak and bloody marys, you didn't eat a whole damn piggy for dinner the night before. You even pooped twice yesterday – once around breakfastime, and once right after Daddy put you in a diaper after your shower (because that's how it goes sometimes). You might say, well... maybe this part is reasonable. Maybe it wasn't that much today, at breakfast, and maybe it wasn't that bad overnight too. Your Daddy wasn't late for work and didn't lose that much sleep, so maybe what happened next was not just reasonable, but predictable. All I can tell you is that I'm too little to know for sure. I don't know where the best place on the beach is to build a sandcastle. I don't, at the drop of a hat, know where the best gas station is to fill up a car in the city. I haven't, in fact, memorized the decision tree in the picture book so as to avoid all of the trap doors to an OOPSIE outcome. I'm a baby and shit happens. In fact, my opinion was that I was in the clear. I had, after all, filled my diapers quite hard that morning. Things were moving, and likely had moved. Prospects were as good as any. Chance of showers: minimal. Tornado warning? Pssh. Carliah was smooth sailing. Did Daddy give me a thinner diaper? Sure. Was I in trouble? Yeah, I was in trouble. But Daddy might forget. And Daddy didn't know that I'd got 95% of the way to orgasm on the couch. No permission. So I dodged most of the trouble anyway. The chores I had to do involved some errands. Cucumbers, more hand soap, more buttcream (always embarrassing to buy). Go to FedEX to get some postal thingy printed. Go pick out a card for Daddy's sister's birthday. There were other things. Phone calls about the house I had to make. And he wanted me to do some research on a vacation for the summer. But I figured that since my diaper was clean and dry, and thin to boot, and because the messes had just happened, that the best time of any to get out and about was right away. I said before I was bad at being incontinent. That I run on fumes. Honestly I don't know what else I could have done. Sometimes you're just toast. I took an Uber to the farthest place, which was the FedEx store. I got that taken care of, but while I was waiting I did a self check and rats, I was peed. Not too bad. I checked my bag just in case, and saw that I hadn't brought a diaper change. This didn't worry me. I often do that. Daddy never takes me out without one, but I often dip out without a dip. Especially on days like this, when the pee and poop came with the early birds. I went to a Hallmark to get a card. I started to feel something. It can sometimes be like that. Usually it's more like it was when I was grabbing the apples. When I have no idea I'm about to mess until it's in the diaper and still coming out. Sometimes, though, I get a tease. And sometimes it's a lie. I can't tell you how many diapers I've ruined going to the potty at the slightest feeling down there. It turns out to just be my period or my tummy or just, idk, the weird feelings you get just cause you're old. Or horniess. I've legitimately mistaken the feral need to fuck, so serious and debilitating that it feels like anxiety or a cramp, and sat on the potty because of it. I don't really know. Maybe it's just because I've had so little success pooping on the potty that I just don't know what normal, potty trained people feel like when they have to go. I think it's supposed to feel like what it feels like when a cock is coming out of your ass. Sorry. I know those of you anal fuckers probably think of it the other way. That a slipping cock feels like shitting. But I associate these things the opposite way, for obvious reasons. So I had a feeling. I thought it was horniness or the eggs. I suppose since I have ovaries, those two concepts aren't so different. I picked out a card without too much worry. I even squatted down to inspect the lowest ledge in the display. I worried more about the waistband of my pants and the sound of the crinkles than what was going on in my tum-tum. The feeling came and went, came and went. I trickled pee into the diaper, as usual, but nothing really progressed on the other end. In retrospect, I have to be a toddler – at best – to not have realized what was coming. Sometimes context, such as my messy morning, can be deceptive. Sometimes it might be better to think less, to understand less. My bottom made the need abundantly clear as I was about two back in the line to check out at Hallmark. It surged all of a sudden, like snow suddenly breaking off a roof. Like when you tip the cereal box too far to one side and the log jam breaks and the Lucky Charms all come cascading out. It was lucky. It was a miracle I caught it and clenched at all. More pee came out but I held my bum tight. I bit my lip and almost bent in half the card I wanted to buy. I looked behind me and saw a yoga mom idling through her phone, blissfully unaware of the jeopardy my diaper was in. I looked ahead, and an older lady was paying for her card in cash. Worse, she was paying not just in cash, but in exact cash. A coin rolled off the table onto the floor and the old lady looked at it wearily until the patron behind her stepped forward to pick it up. The situation was laughably hopeless. I almost laughed. There was no way I was paying without losing control. Daddy is gonna get hard when he hears about this. I thought about the edge of the couch, but I remembered that the diaper he gave me was small. And it wasn't close to lunch. And I was over a mile from home. It was getting warm. I still had chores to do. The feeling was a bit like trying to balance a basketball on your index finger. Drop it and...boom. Specifically, the feeling was a bit like trying to balance a basketball on your finger when you've never actually successfully balanced it before. So yeah. All it took was someone bursting through the automatic doors to make me drop the ball. They came in, turned, and shouted at someone idling in a car outside. Like any normal human being, I turned my head to see what was happening. I pooped my diaper for the third time since midnight. A man stepped up to counter and waved me over. "I can help you at this register, ma'am." The old lady was gone. It was still coming. I walked over. "Can you give it to me so I can scan it?" he asked me. Still coming. "Oh, yeah." The yoga mom was behind me. Really closely for some reason. "Cash or credit?" It's like my diaper is growing a rudder. "Credit." "Okay, whenever you're ready." Still coming. Right? No, all done. Oh. Wait. Definitely still coming. "You can remove your card, ma'am." Ma'am! Ha! No. No I'm never going to be a ma'am. I walked home. It felt too disrespectful to get into an uber. I carried my printout from FedEx and my Hallmark card and I passed right by the grocery store. I'd do those chores later. I texted Daddy, but he was busy and did not reply. Daddy was right, it was getting warm. The sun was beating down on me and my bloated diaper. I tried to stand away from people at crosswalks, but they didn't know to avoid me and found their way beside me more than usual. I hoped that the wind would waft my scent away. Or that they'd blame it on a dog or the sewer. I couldn't decide whether to hurry or go slow. I wanted to get home as fast as possible, but I also didn't want to pass in front of other pedestrians. I preferred to let them pass me. But there were always more coming out of shops and around corners. Walking fast meant it squished more. Walking slow meant I was in the hot sun longer. About halfway home I was sweating so much I was sure I was leaking. The mess in my diaper seemed to heat up my groin until it almost became claustrophobic. I realized that I was waddling and tried to correct my gait, but after a few blocks I gave up. I realized that when I got home, I had nowhere to go. I still had chores around the house. But what was I going to do? Stay standing the whole time until Daddy came home? Or sit down in this hot mess? I wanted Daddy! I texted him again. No reply. Someone bumped into me and I bit my lip. Was it possible to run away from my own butt? "Daddy I'll be in all the trouble in the world but you have to meet me at home now and change my diaper!" "I'll do no cummies for a week! I'll let you spank me bunches and bunches. But I need a new diaper soooooo bad." Finally I made it home. A part of me was mad at Daddy. Still no reply! I took off all my clothes and checked my pants to see if there had been a leak. There wasn't. I looked in the mirror and got turned on and I hated it. There was no Daddy to do anything about it and I'd ruin the couch if I did my favorite thing again. Gahh! Daddy called me. "Daddy!" I yelled into the phone. "Are you home?" "No." "Are you coming home?" "Carliah. I stepped outside. Carliah. No. Please listen. You have to do it." "You don't understand I had a..." "Carliah..." "Daddy PLEASE!" "Carliah, let me talk. Or it really will be big trouble. Do you understand?" "Yes Daddy." "You've done it yourself for years. You know many people who do it themselves. You have incontinent friends who change it themselves. You can do it too. I know you can." "But Daddy I have you!" "Mhm. And you also have trouble." "That's good I understand any kind of trouble but..." "This is the trouble. The kind of trouble involved in growing up. You're changing it yourself, Carliah. No, I know you made a big mess. Of course I love you. But I'm not coming home from lunch. Do you understand? Carliah? Carliah?" *** Peter arrived home at approximately six in the evening. He hadn't heard a peep from Carliah all day since she hung up the phone. He wasn't mad. No, far from it. He was curious. He didn't mind that she probably resented him, and that it would be absurd for her to resent him. After all, him making a twenty minute drive to wipe her butt, wolf down lunch, and drive back to work every day was a bit absurd. It was just so hot. It pained him not to do it. He really did like that he always changed her. She was so...dependent that way. But it was unsustainable. Both time wise and health wise. She needed to relearn the responsibility to clean up her own messes now and then. Not always, but often. He would have work trips. He would leave her on her own. She would need to deal with it. What was he saying? Carliah was over thirty. Carliah was fine. Carliah was getting spanked big time. She was getting soaped and he was going to make her use her mouth to great lengths to apologize to him. So he opened the door with a devilish grin. What he saw made his jaw drop. There was Carliah, her breasts out, her face panting and delirious. Her long dark hair was disheveled. She was wearing nothing but one sock and a diaper. Not even a bra. Her glasses were hung down to the very edge of her nose, and it hardly seemed to matter because her eyes were glazed and cross eyed. "Carliah!" She was perched atop the armrest of the couch. On foot on the couch, the other hanging off. Both hands pressed against her crotch. Sweat dripped down and Peter noticed her hair was stuck to her face. His eyes, stuck for a little while on her erect, raw nipples, made their way down to her hands. She had changed her diaper. No...she hadn't. He looked closer at the waistband. The waistbands. The many, many, many waistbands upon waistbands. "Carliah..." Carliah didn't acknowledge him. She rocked back and forth. What he smelled made his eyes go wide. Peter pushed through it and stepped up to the edge of the couch. Carliah was almost taller this way. She rocked back and forth, the massive balloon of plastic around her waist squeaking and crinkling as she moved. He closed his eyes and kissed her. Her mouth and breath were warm. "Daddy," she whispered, almost as quiet as a breath. She cracked a weak, delirious smile. Like she knew what was about to happen to her. Like she understood that the only place deeper and more full of poop than the septupled diaper she was wearing was the hole of trouble she'd just landed in. "I put new diapers on, Daddy. Like you said. Am I a good baby?" "You are...a baby," he told her.
  10. Ivan watched as the girl walking in front of him on the sidewalk tripped over a crack or a rock or who knows what, and fell down, smacking her hands and knees against the cement. Ordinarily he wasn't one to just interact with strangers- him being so big and intimidating, it usually didn't work out well for anyone. This time, however, he paused. He leaned down, grabbed her hands, and helped her up to her feet. He glanced her up and down- she was a bit teary eyed, and bleeding just a bit from her knobby knees. "You should get a bandage." He said quietly. It was an attempt to show concern, but he rarely spoke with others these days, so it sounded awkward. He reached his hands out and wiped her eyes. "There's no need to cry, nothing looks broken." He glanced around at her things, noticing a school bag which had spilled out its contents on the floor. The girl looked a bit young, but she was still very obviously of college age, as she was walking by herself, and headed toward the block of dingy college apartments. He offered his hand and smiled. "Can I walk you home to make sure you don't take another tumble?"
  11. Hello I've been reading a bunch of little space stories and became inspired to write my own. It's the first story I've written like this so I hope everyone enjoys it. Chapter 1 Classification Day Sarah looked around the auditorium, there were just over two dozen students assembled. Every year from the ages of fifteen to eighteen students are tested for any developing classifications. Those who test positive are divided into three types, dominant, subordinate, and neutral, with several subtypes under dom and sub. Sarah figured she was going to be a caregiver, she always loved playing with her little cousins. Loved seeing them happy and smiling. Caregivers are usually taller but it's not unheard of them to be shorter than six feet. She stood just over five feet tall, with chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes that seemed larger than normal. Her face was soft and slightly puffy giving her an innocent look. It was a source of frustration for her, while it helped her when dealing with kids and littles, adults treated her younger than she actually was. The other students looked around nervously, a few of them were obviously friends as they huddled together whispering amongst themselves. She can't blame the others, they probably didn't know what they were going to be. Their attention was drawn to the front by an opening door. A woman walked from the open door to the podium, tapping on the mic before turning her attention to the students. “Welcome to Classification assignment,” the woman said. She was taller than the assembled students. Standing at least six feet tall, with long blond hair and a warm gentle face. “You all can call me Miss Clarissa, and today you’ll all be tested for a classification.” The students' voices raised as a few blurted out questions. Miss Clarissa raised her hand, silencing everyone. “I know you all have questions but we have a lot of students to get through. When your name is called please go through those doors.” she pointed to a set of double doors that stood open. A nurse in scrubs standing there with a list. “Sarah Anderson,” the nurse called. Sarah jumped a little and walked over to the woman, who had a gentle smile on her face. Sarah was led to a small area sectioned off with some partitions. “Please sit. Today we're going to be drawing some blood and then you’ll take the Bectel test.” “Is it painful?” Sarah asked. “Not at all sweetie, some electrodes will be placed on your head then you’ll watch a video while a computer monitors your neural activity. Now I'm going to draw some blood. Is that alright with you?” Sarah nodded her head, and watched the nurse take out a blood draw kit and several vials. She wrapped an elastic band around the girl's arm before feeling for a vein in the crook of her elbow. It took her a moment to find an acceptable vein but she nodded in satisfaction and cleaned the area with an alcohol wipe. Popping the safety cap off the butterfly needle she went to insert it. The girl watched the needle, her heart racing as it drew closer to her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands. “Relax sweetie, it’ll only take a moment,” the nurse said gently. Sarah nodded and unclenched her hands, whimpering as she felt the needle pierce her skin. “Shh shh, you’re fine. Just going to take a moment,” she spoke calmingly and soothingly. “Just one more. That's a good girl.” The nurse took four vials before removing the needle and taping a cotton ball to the puncture. Sarah felt a few tears fall from her eyes as she watched the nurse put labels on the vials and drop them into a bag. The nurse walked away and came back a few seconds later with a sucker. “Here you go darling,” she said, handing it out. “Ready for the next part? I promise it won't hurt.” “‘Kay,” Sarah said with a sniffle. The nurse led her through the room, other kids were having their blood drawn. One of them bawled their eyes out. She tried to focus on her breathing. Trying to calm her racing heart. She didn't notice when they left the room and entered a small room with a machine in it. An older man stood beside a small reclining chair. “I have Sarah Anderson here,” she said, handing over some paperwork. “Excellent, can you sit here for me,” the doctor asked gently. Sarah nodded and hopped up on the chair, her head feeling fuzzy from the needle, she always hated needles. The doctor explained what he was going to do, which she mostly ignored. Except for the last part which caught her attention. “... then once I get a baseline reading I'm going to show you a video.” “Video…?” “Yes, it's just some funny shapes and colors,” he said, walking over to the computer, then tapping a few buttons. “Ready sweetheart?” She nodded again, and watched him flip a switch with trepidation. Bracing for the unknown she was slightly disappointed when nothing happened. He simply smiled down at her, putting her at ease. While she waited she looked around the room. It was a classroom, all the desks were pushed to one wall and the room divider was stretched across it, dividing the classroom in half. “One of my colleagues is in the other half with another Bectel tester,” he said, following her gaze. The computer dinged and he clapped his hands together. “Alright sweetheart, I'm going to start the next part now, go ahead and look at the TV there.” “‘Kay…” she said watching the tv. It was still black for a moment before turning on. It was showing a pure white image. She started to turn her head when the doctor gently patted the top of it. “Keep watching.” She nodded and became entranced as some shapes and colors flashed on screen. They began to change, changing size and color. As she watched her head began to feel fuzzy again. She shook it, trying to clear it while keeping her eyes on the screen. But the fuzzy feeling continued. Spreading through her whole head. The funny shapes continued to change. “Pwetty…” “How are you feeling sweetheart?” “I few fuzzy,” she giggled. “Do you know where you are?” “Scoo!” she exclaimed. “That's right,” he said, smiling at her. “Pwetty sparkus,” she beamed. The video kept her rapt attention, running for a while before fading back to pure white. “Are you with me sweetheart?” “Huh?” Sarah blinked several times before shaking her head. “What…?” “We're done, you'll receive your results in a few days after the bloodwork finishes.” “Thank you,” she said. “No thank you for being such a good girl,” he said, smiling as her cheeks turned pink. “Nurse, I'm ready for the next one.” Sarah looked at the clock, somehow thirty minutes had passed already. Her attention was pulled away as the door opened up. The nurse led another student into the room and took Sarah back to the auditorium. “Sarah Anderson?” Miss Allison called. “Yes ma’am?” “You may go home, take this letter to your parents please,” she said, holding out a sealed envelope. “Yes ma’am,” she said, taking the offered envelope and walking to the door. She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted her mom asking for a pickup. Settling down to read something while she waited. She got a few chapters through one of her favorite little stories before her mom pulled up. “Sarah sweetie,” her mom called her, making her jump. She was so focused on what she was reading she didn't notice her mom standing in front of her. “How’d it go?” “It was alright, they took some of my blood and hooked me up to a weird computer.” “Ah, I remember the day I was classified. Everyone there said it was obvious what I was,” she said, a nostalgic tinge to her voice. “Really?” Sarah asked, hopping to her feet and following her mom to their car. They both climbed into the car, and buckled in. “Yea, it was very obvious I was a dom even before then.” “It was?” “Yea, I was already more developed than other girls my age, and I was very authoritative. The next year I met your father,” she said, then sighed. It was true, her mom was nearly six feet tall, standing at five foot eleven. She was a mistress, which she reluctantly told her daughter. Much to Sarah's embarrassment. Her mother had the same chestnut hair, but hers fell down to the middle of her back. Her warm honey colored eyes drew the viewer to her face, with its small dainty nose, full pouty lips, and sensual smile. “I miss dad,” Sarah said, sniffling slightly, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I do too.” A silence between them fell as her mother drove back to their house. “So, any idea what your classification is?” her mom asked, breaking the silence. “Caregiver probably.” “You do have a lot of fun playing with Alice and Sam. Are you sure you’re not a little?” “No mom, I don’t want to be a little.” “Why not sweetie?” “Cause I don't want to be reliant on someone my whole life. I don't want to be restricted from being an adult. I don't want my freedom taken away. Besides, I don't have any little tendencies.” “Still you might be surprised,” she said softly. “Mom no, I don't even want to think that way. I’ll be a caregiver. End of story,” she said, crossing her arms. “Alright sweetie,” her mom said, chuckling softly. “Did they say how long you have to wait?” “No, but they gave me a letter for you,” she said, pulling it out of her pocket. “Hold on to it until we get home sweetie.” “‘Kay mom.” Sarah pulled out her phone and texted her best friend Melissa. She’s also doing her classification test today, but later than Sarahs. With a big yawn her head bobbed and fell to her chest as she fell asleep. ***** “Sweetie, time to get up.” “Huh?” Sarah stirred, looking at her mom bleary eyed. “We’re home.” She looked around in confusion. “Still tired sweetie?” Sarah nods and holds up her arms. “Such a spoiled girl,” her mom said, giggling as she picked up her daughter, pocketing the envelope that had fallen from her grip. Carrying the half awake girl to the front door. She used her free hand to open the door. “We’re back,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Welcome back Mistress Michelle,” a woman called from the other room. “How’d it go?” “Well enough,” she replied, walking into the living room. Placing her daughter down on the couch she turned to face a woman who looked very different than her. Smaller with light blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She was much smaller at only “Long day?” “I think she was just stressed. You know how stressful classification day can be,” she sighed sitting down next to the woman, who pressed into her side and hummed contentedly. “I know, my mom was sad that I got designated as a pet,” she said nuzzling into Michelle. “Like she was super supportive but I could tell she was disappointed.” “And it's her loss,” she replied, planting a kiss on the smaller woman's lips. “You’re a wonderful woman, Ariel. And an amazing pet. “I’m so glad you adopted me,” she said. “Especially after Jason.” “Shh shh, don't even think about him,” Michelle said, swiping a tear from her pet's cheek. “Should we wake Sarah up?” “No, leave her to sleep for now, it's barely been twenty minutes. She gave me a letter,” she said, holding up the sealed envelope. Dear Miss Michelle, This letter is to inform you that preliminary results show that your daughter will be classified as a little. You should make sure she's aware and ready to receive the official announcement, as well as her official regression range. Should she drop before receiving the results we encourage you to allow it to progress naturally. Sarah will be required to attend special classes. Before her eighteenth birthday we advise finding her a caregiver. If she doesn’t have a registered caregiver sixty days after her eighteenth birthday a foster caregiver will be assigned to her. Once her age range is established a list of required items will be supplied with the classification folder. Best regards, Agent Alexi, C.L.P.S. “Shit…” Michelle swore. “What?” “Sarah’s going to be pissed…”
  12. Chapter 1: One Afternoon, Grace was driving home from work super excited for this weekend with her husband. His name was Michael. They had been married now for 3 years. He was also her “daddy” because she was an ABDL babygirl. He was the one who had helped her discover her baby side and it made her life so much more exciting. She was excited for this weekend because he was taking her to a cabin for baby time with just them. No one else would be there to bug them for the weekend. Her mother had even agreed to take their son for the weekend to make it easier on them. This weekend was one of Graces only chances to be a complete baby without any responsibilities. She was so looking forward to that. She was giving her husband/daddy all of the responsibility of taking care of her. She really needed this due to the amount of stress she had from working as a director at a daycare and being a mom to her crazy 3 year old little boy. She was so looking forward to relaxing and being the 1 year old little baby she felt like. She knew her daddy would take really good care of her. Grace pulled into the driveway about 10 minutes later and parked her car next to her husband's SUV. Which she could see he was already starting to pack with what they would need for this weekend. She decided to sit in her car for a few minutes to just collect her excitement before she went inside to start the weekend. Her mind then instantly wondered to the pull up that she had decided to wear to work to make herself feel little to try to start the weekend early. She then realized she had to pee really bad. She decided to wet the pull up as a little surprise for her daddy. She knew it would show him that she really is just a little babygirl that needs him to take care of her. He did not know that she had worn a pull up to work that day as she had hid one the night before. She smiled big as she relaxed her bladder and soon soaked the pull up completely. She wore a pretty red dress to work with her pull up underneath so that she could make it easy on her daddy to tell when he checked her. She then headed inside practically skipping as she locked car doors. Grace smiled big as she unlocked the front door, opened it, and walked inside. She immediately notices the bags her daddy has already packed sitting on the floor of her baby stuff for the weekend. He was making sure to pack everything they needed and more. Her dress was swaying perfectly as she walked, hiding her very soaked pull up underneath so unless anyone “checked her”, no one would be able to tell. She then called out, “Daddy I am home from work.” She then sits down on the bottom step of the stairs to take off her shoes that were her big girl shoes. She wanted her little shoes. She was bouncing in her seat happily super excited and could no longer contain her excitement. Meanwhile, Michael was upstairs finishing packing the last few items they would need to make this baby weekend perfect. He had packed lots of diapers, pacifiers, baby food, regular food, adult baby clothes, bottles, sip pies, bath items, toys, her blankie she needs to sleep, some of her stuffies, and anything else they would need. He wanted this weekend to be perfect for his little princess as he knew how much she needed this. He had noticed how stressed she had become with work and their son. He had even come up with a few surprises for her. The first surprise was he had gotten a custom adult carseat for her to make her feel extra little on the ride over and back home. The second surprise was the cabin he had rented for the weekend was from an ABDL company so it was all set up for his big babygirl. All the furniture they would need to make her feel extremely baby like. Micheal smiled big when he heard his little Grace call out to him that she was finally home from work. She had only done a half day today at the daycare. He had taken their son to his mother in laws this morning for her so she did not have to. He had just finished setting out the outfit he had picked out for his little baby. It was a Cushies diaper, 2 stuffers, pink ruffle socks, pink ruffle butt diaper cover, and a cute baby dress that would not cover the diaper cover at all. He also had 2 hair ties and ribbons ready for her hair and her pink pacifier and clip that said I love Daddy. He headed upstairs from the basement where their secret nursery was hidden. He sees her on the stairs taking off her shoes. He said, “Hi babygirl, are you ready to become my little babygirl for the entire weekend and no more big girl responsibilities?” Grace instantly looked up at Michael with eyes of anticipation and smiled so big feeling instantly little. She said, “Hi daddy. Yes I am very ready to be the baby I truly am this weekend.” She giggled as she said that knowing how true it really was. She stood up slowly from the stair onto her tippy toes. She smiled and gave her daddy a big kiss on his cheek. She was super happy and little for the first time in a while. Michael smiled big at his little baby and kissed her back. He then picked her up and as he did he noticed under her dress she had a very wet pull up on. He said, “Uh oh it looks like you really are ready to be my babygirl this weekend. You started early with a very wet pull up for daddy to change.” He chuckled and held her up by her bottom with one hand and her other hand on her back. He then headed downstairs to the nursery carrying his little baby. Grace giggled and blushed hiding her face in his neck beginning to suck on her thumb happily and bashful when he said that. She said, “I is only a baby daddy. I can’t help it.” As she said that, she lisped using her baby voice and baby talk. She sucked on her thumb all the way down to the nursery wiggling in her daddy’s arms as it was almost impossible to keep her excitement in. She almost instantly started feeling like the baby she was going to be when they walked into the nursery and she saw the outfit her daddy had picked out for her sitting on the changing table. She knew it did not matter to him carrying her outside in the outfit because they lived at least 2 miles or more away from their neighbors and they had a fence up out front. Michael smiled at his babygirl as he sat her down onto the big adult changing table. He saw her thumb in her mouth and said, “here babygirl, have your pacifier. I do not want you to chap your thumb up. That can be painful. It can also hurt your teeth.” He picked up the pink pacifier he had for her and stuck it in her mouth carefully as she opened it willing. He then unzipped her big girl dress and pulled it over her head and said, “No more big girl clothes for you young lady for the rest of the weekend.” Grace smiled and giggled happily behind her pacifier that she was sucking on eagerly. She could not have been more excited then she was for this weekend to begin with her nice thick diaper he was about to put her in. Michael then gave her pull up a good squeeze chuckling as he laid her down on the changing table. He instantly unfolded the new diaper for her and put the 2 stuffers in it getting it ready for once her pull up was off. He then ripped the sides of the pull up and said, “wow babygirl you really soaked this pull up, you are lucky it did not leak.” He then began to wipe her off front to back making sure she was clean. He smiled down at her as she laid there looking so cutely up at him as he cleaned her off. He then pulled the pull up out from under her and rolled it up. He threw it into the trash now ready to put her in a very thick Cushies diaper. To Be Continued…. Chapter 2: Michael sat the diaper he had prepared next to Grace as she laid there on the changing table. He smiled down at her and said, “okay babygirl can you lift your bottom up for daddy please? Daddy needs to get your diaper on before you have an accident all over the floor.” Grace giggled at that comment and did as she was told. She lifted her bottom up while Michael slipped the diaper underneath her bottom fully. He then patted her upper thigh to let her know to set her bottom down on the nice thick diaper. She lowered her bottom instantly and sighed happily as soon as she felt the diaper. Michael smiled when Grace sighed. It was so cute how ready she was for this weekend. She had already regressed so much as she laid there sucking on her pacifier. He grabbed the powder and started to powder her completely making sure to not miss a spot because he did not want his babygirl to get a rash. He pulled the diaper and stuffers up and positioned them. He started taping the diaper up. He got it completely taped shut and snug. He patted her diaper smiling and said, “all diapered up babygirl. Let’s get you dressed now.” He grabbed the diaper cover and slipped Grace’s legs into it. He then said, “lift your bottom babygirl.” She did so and he slipped the cover over her diaper. She put her bottom back down and Michael sat her up. He picked up the little pink dress he had picked out for her. He slipped it over her head. Michael then stood her up off of the changing table and adjusted the diaper cover and zipped up the dress. He patted her bottom that was not covered by the dress at all. Her diaper was on complete display for the world to see as the dress was way to short. He loved that part of the outfit he chose. He then picked her up and sat her back on the changing table. He put the frilly socks he had chose for her on her feet. He then put black buckle shoes on her feet that looked like shoes for babies. He then got a hairbrush, hair ties, and ribbons. He split her hair into pigtails and tied it up with the hair ties then put the ribbons in her hair. He clipped her pacifier to her dress. He smiled and said, “awwwww my babygirl is dressed and so cute. How do you feel babygirl?” Grace smiled big from behind her pacifier and said, “I feel like a little babygirl daddy.”She said it in her best baby voice with a cute lisp that the large pacifier in her mouth causes. Michael chuckled and smiled at his very cute babygirl. He picked her up and cradled her for a moment happily rocking her. Grace put her head on his shoulder, sighing happily loving being her daddys little babygirl. He held her for about five minutes before he said, “why don’t we put you in your high chair for a quick snack before our 3 hour drive to the cabin? Daddy also needs to finish packing car so you being in your high chair will help daddy do that. He can’t leave you lose because you are just a baby.” Grace nodded being hungry and liking being treated like a baby that can not be by herself. It made her regress even further. Michael carried her over to the high chair and sat her down in it. He sat her down in the seat and grabbed the buckle that goes between her legs and around her waist and buckled it tight to secure her. He then slid the tray onto the high chair locking it into place, securing her completely in so she could not get out even if she wanted to. He put a bib on her tying it around her neck so she doesn’t get her pretty dress all dirty. He put a bottle of milk on her tray, some cut up strawberries, and some mini chips ahoy cookies. He said, “Okay babygirl eat up. Daddy will come get you when he is done loading the car and getting everything ready for us to head to the cabin for the weekend.” Grace nodded and spit her pacifier out so that she could eat the snack he had given her as she was hungry. Michael smiled watching his babygirl eat her snack. He then headed upstairs and started taking all of their stuff out to his SUV. He opened the trunk of the SUV and loaded everything into the back easily and quickly. He shut the hatch and smiled. He then headed to the garage to get the first surprise he had for his babygirl. The car seat he had custom made for her. He got the car seat and took it to the car and opened the back drivers side door. He sat the car seat in the car and strapped it in. It was perfect for his babygirl. It had a 5 point harness to make her feel very little and safe on the drive over to the cabin. He stood there for a second looking forward to heading to the cabin with his babygirl. Meanwhile, Grace was sitting in her high chair eating her snack happily and quickly as she was super excited to head to the cabin. She kept thinking about everything that was gonna happen. She thought about how much she wished the cabin would have ABDL furniture but she doubted it would. She had no idea what was coming. She finished her snack happily having cookie crumbs all over her face and bib. She even had milk that had dripped down her chin and onto the bib. She sat there happily in the high chair swinging her legs waiting for her daddy to come back from loading the car for their trip. Michael puts Grace’s favorite teddy and blankie by the car seat knowing she would take a nap on the way there being tired from work and stuff. He then left the car door open to make it easier to load her in. He then headed inside and down to the nursery to get his babygirl. He was smiling so much as he was excited to spoil his little babygirl this weekend completely. He walked into the nursery to see a very messy Gracie. He said, “my my you are one messy baby. I am glad I put that bib on you or your pretty dress would be all messy.” He realized her bottle was empty and took it to the bathroom in the nursery which was just a sink and a tub. He filled it up with nice cold water after rinsing it out. He wanted her to have a drink if she wanted it on the way there. He then grabbed a warm washcloth to clean his babygirls face. He headed back to her in the high chair and took the bib off of her. He cleaned her hands and face off. Grace wiggled and fussed as he cleaned her off just like a real baby would. Michael chuckled at her reaction and finished cleaning her off. He then said, “Okay babygirl you are all clean now. Are you ready to get going? Daddy has the car loaded for you and has a surprise for you in the car. I really think you are gonna love it.” He then unlocked the high chair tray and took it off and unbuckled the buckle around her. Grace smiled and said, “yes daddy I am ready.” Michael popped her pacifier back into her mouth and picked her up from the high chair. He patted her bottom and began to carry her upstairs and out to the car. She sucked on the pacifier as he gave it to her and instantly put her head on her daddy’s shoulder smiling big super excited or the surprise he has in the car for her. He walked out of the house with her in his arms to the car. To be Continued…
  13. The Pumpkin Prince: Prologue A/N: Hello again! This story will be my next pet project on this site and it's an idea I've had since October. It's taken me this long to put it into action. but I hope you'll enjoy it. This story focuses on our Main Character Nathan who finds himself in a mysterious world where he must masquerade as the child of a prestigious Count. It's a bit weird, I admit, but vampires and supernatural creatures are my special interest and I've been wanting to write this story for months. It won't contain much of a horror element as much as the Halloween tag may fool you. It will contain semi-forced regression, coercion, intimidation, breastfeeding, bondage, and despite all of that, a lot of fluff. This is just the prologue and while it may seem like a lot so far, I promise we haven't even gotten to the best bit. Without further ado, let's get into it! Nathan hit the bottom of the chasm with a harsh thud. He had no time to prepare himself as the ground had crumbled beneath his feet while walking through a simple pumpkin patch; practically picked clean by patrons the previous days. Groaning, he found he had landed on yet another pumpkin which broke most of his fall. Hissing, he pushed himself up onto his knees. There was a throbbing in his rib and it was with no light amount of disgust that Nathan found he was covered in pumpkin goop. “Fuckin’ hell,” He tried to comment but a rustling of leaves nearby halted him. He finally noticed his predicament as he absorbed his surroundings. He was deep in a cavern, the walls arching up some 30-40 feet up. Lanterns hung down from the ceiling along with a multitude of simple floating candles. He found himself in the middle of a bountiful pumpkin patch. Very Charlie Brown-esque. The rustling grew nearer and was soon accompanied by a voice. “Fibby, Tibby, is that you? You know your mom said she’d ground you if you two picked my pumpkins again-” Time seemed to stop as the figure revealed himself and Nathan felt his stomach drop. Standing in front of him was a tall, lanky figure. It towered over him and was dressed in well-worn overalls; the kind with patches on the knees and one strap broken. It wore gloves that had to have been white at some point but were now stained a dark brown with time. A simple threadbare flannel under the overalls and worn black rainboots finished the ensemble. However, what shook Nathan was the burlap sack over the figure’s face. Bits of straw poked through the bag forming a patchy beard while the bag conformed to the shape of a face. The eyeholes were wide and expressive and looked down at Nathan with what he was sure was a faux concern. “Oh, you poor thing-” The Scarecrow cooed as he leaned down toward Nathan, finally forcing him to act. “AHHHH!” Nathan screamed, scrambling away as quickly as he could. Which wasn’t very quick mind you. He found himself slipping in the pumpkin goop until his back hit a large white fence. Pain shot through his side and leg at the moment, but Nathan was more focused on the scarecrow now approaching him quickly. Another scream tore through him. “Shhhh!” The scarecrow hushed him quickly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, little guy. Honest.” Throat now burning from exertion Nathan could only whimper as the scarecrow shuffled closer. Its gloved hand reached up toward the bag on his head and pulled it off slowly. With the bag off, Nathan balked at a very familiar sight. “M-Mister Myles?” He stuttered looking into the soft wrinkles of Mr. Myles Patch, the sweet and kind middle-aged man who kept his minuscule town stocked with award-winning pumpkins every fall season. Mr. Myles nodded slowly, seemingly emboldened by Nathan’s waning fright. He snuck a bit closer, gently placing a hand on Nathan’s leg causing him to gasp in pain. “You bumbled yourself quite a bit.” He muttered worriedly. “We need to get you inside so I can call a doctor before anyone sees you here.” Nathan opened his mouth to speak but had to bite down on his lip to fight a wail as Myles lifted him from the remains of the pumpkin. He was swiftly carried inside what looked to be a cozy cottage. Mr. Myles wasted no time carrying him towards a living room that looked like something out of a granny’s dream home catalog. However, the couch was more comfortable than it looked as Mr. Myles laid him down. “Sit tight, kiddo while I call a doctor.” ‘I’m not a kid.’ Nathan wanted to comment as he was 17, about to be 18 come next season. But he was more focused on trying not to cry what with his throbbing leg and side. There was quick mumbling coming from the tiny kitchen. Mr. Myles saying something about ‘-An emergency. Come quick and come alone.’ When he returned, he held a glass of clear water, a thin straw sticking out the top rim. “Come on,” He encouraged as he held the straw to Nathan’s lips. “Have a sip.” The water was cool and refreshing to Nathan’s sore throat, but it didn’t erase his questions. “Where am I?” He demanded. “What happened?” Mr. Myles bit his lip before putting the glass down and sitting on the armchair nearby. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It sounds crazy.” Nathan huffed out an annoyed breath. “I fell through the ground into a pumpkin patch owned by a scarecrow who just so happens to be the friendly old man who lives up the street.” He summed up. “I’m in pain and I want to go home. Just tell me what’s going on!” Mr. Myles seemed to be battling with himself for a moment longer before he sighed. “This is Autumn Hollow…A village that’s existed below yours for centuries…It’s another world, of sorts. The hole you fell in was a portal. I don’t know how you found it, usually, it’s closed.” “I was walking through your patch…” “I closed up yesterday morning, though, son. Shouldn’t you be trick or treatin’?” Nathan shrugged and winced. “I was passing through. Clearing my head.” It was definitely more than that. But he wasn’t about to dump his whole home life on what was essentially a stranger. Luckily, a quick knock on the door saved him from having to explain. Mr. Myles got up to greet the doctor and soon he was leading in an elderly woman in a black apron. She looked nice enough with her grey hair curling around her ears under a wide-brimmed black hat. When she saw Nathan tense with pain on the couch, her face fell. “Oh you poor dear,” She set a heavy bag down on the coffee table with a thud and pulled a square cloth from her pocket. Nathan could only lay there as she dabbed at the pumpkin goop drying on his face. “Ma’am, are you a doctor?” He asked hesitantly. “Oh, sweet child. I’m better than a doctor,” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m a witch!” “Can you help me?” Nathan pleaded. He had seen so much already and frankly he wasn’t in the mood to dispute the logistics of an old woman being a witch while laying on a couch belonging to a scarecrow. “I’m in a bit of pain.” Immediately, the witch nodded. “I’ll fix you right up, baby. We gotta let the cauldron boil.” What followed was a series of terrifying events all leading up to an anticlimactic finish. As the unseen cauldron started to boil, the witch disappeared into the kitchen with Mr. Myles leaving Nathan a mere 20ft away. “Myles hand me your eyes of newt.” “Lucky I picked some up not too long ago.” “Now we add the spider legs…” “We need the plan to get him home. You know I can’t tote him through town.” “Spider. Legs. Myles.” “Right, apologies.” “I could have sworn I brought some snake fangs…” “Right here. So what do you think we should do?” “Hmm…You have a half-sister, don’t you? The one married to the Count?” “So?” “Say he’s your nephew. Problem solved.” “You’re missing the moon drops-” “Don’t tell me how to brew!” “Well- I can’t say he’s my nephew! Nobody would believe that even if he could pass as their son, why would she let him visit now?” “It’s none of their business. Just say he’s your nephew and move on.” “But he can’t pass for Hollow Folk, Debs.” This bickering continued until Nathan felt as if his stomach was turning inside out. After all, goat’s tears?! No way he was drinking that. He’d rather suffer. But when Mr. Myles and the witch returned, she wasn’t holding some disgusting concoction in a glass bottle. Rather, she held a plain white mug with a mountain of what looked like whipped cream and chocolate shavings. The cherry on top was a cookie wafer straw sticking up through the foam. “Okay, baby. I made you some nice hot cocoa to help you feel better.” Immediately Nathan looked at her with mistrust. There was no way that came from those ingredients. But she only looked at him with gentle regard. “Come on, son. You don’t want it to get cold.” Very hesitantly, he took the mug, wincing as Myles propped up pillows behind him to sit up. Nathan sniffed the mug, but only smelled sweet chocolate and whipped cream. He licked the whipped cream peak and found it to be exactly as he remembered it to taste. His reservations slowly disappeared when he took the wafer straw into his mouth and took the tiniest sip. It was hot chocolate. Warm, sweet, creamy even. Not even burning hot considering how quickly they had brought it out to him. As he took another, deeper sip, he realized his aches and pains were starting to melt away. Breathing was getting easier. His knee throbbed less and less before halting completely. Each sip of the delicious liquid made him feel warm and soft. Before he knew it, the mug was empty. Even the whipped cream had melted into the cocoa and he crunched the softened wafer straw before putting the mug on the coffee table. “Feel better?” The witch asked and Nathan nodded. “Thank you, ma’am,” Because he had manners. “Oh, please,” The witch sat down on the couch beside him, ignoring the pumpkin goop smeared on the cushion. “Call me Debbie.” Nathan gave her a gentle smile before Mr. Myles’ throat cleared. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, son, but we have to get you home before nightfall.” “We’ve already discussed it, Myles. He’ll play your nephew and you can get him to the return portal!” Debbie groaned. “I can make him look like Hollow Folk if it makes you feel better, but it’s not as big of a deal as you say.” “Whatever gets me home.” Nathan agreed readily. Myles ran a hand over his face, somehow ditching his gloves when Nathan didn’t notice. “What if my sister hears?” “Then you can explain. She’d understand. She’s not as uppity as you make her seem. She was a small farm town girl at one point.” Debbie seemed determined, rooting through her heavy bag. “I have just the thing too.” As she was searching, Myles pulled on his burlap sack once more. It was a strange sight to see as it contoured to his face looking identical to him now that Nathan wasn’t panicking. Debbie hummed triumphantly as she pulled out what looked to Nathan to be a set of plastic vampire fangs. The kind that came with a cheap vampire costume and made it hard to talk. He wasn’t sure of the intelligence of the Hollow Folk, but a simple set of plastic fangs couldn’t possibly fool them. Debbie, understanding his confusion, pointed to Myles. “It’s like his mask, son. This will disguise you well enough to fool anyone in town. Pop them in, and bite down as hard as you can. Be prepared to adjust.” Nathan had no idea what adjust meant but he took the fangs anyway and slipped them into his mouth. Before he bit down, Debbie stood. “I’ll get the sink ready for a bath.” He dismissed her words as more magical nonsense and bit down as hard as he could. A rush of warmth overtook his body. It almost felt like the drop of a roller coaster and his back met the soft pillows. Opening his eyes that he didn’t know he closed, Nathan took in the sight of the cottage. What was originally a dimly lit, the worn-down cottage was now a rich, homely environment. There were motes of light casting soft shadows around the room and he couldn’t help but stare. “The improved eyesight is a pretty good deal,” Myles noted and Nathan was startled upon realizing Myles towered over him so harshly. ‘Give me space!’ He tried to say, but what came out was a high-pitched slur. “Spay!” “Spuh-” He stuttered. “Spay!” “Easy there, son,” Myles reached for Nathan and lifted him off the couch by his underarms. “The magic goes by your spiritual maturity. Relax and let me get you home.” Nathan ignored him. “Me dow’! No!” He squirmed as he was carried to the kitchen, just as cozy and lit as the living room. And Debbie had filled a large farm sink with sweet lavender-scented suds. “Let’s get that pumpkin guts off him. I’ll bathe him while you find him something to wear?” Nathan was stripped much to his protest and deposited into the sink. To his horror, he fit inside. He felt tears fill his eyes as he looked up at Debbie. “Noo!” He warbled. Looking down at his hands. They were small and chubby, little clumsy sausages gripping the edge of the sink. “Baby,” Debbie cooed, running a warm cloth down his back. “The sooner we get you clean the sooner you can go home.” “No’ baby!” Nathan pouted, pushing the suds in rebellion as tears started to dribble. “Wan’ go ‘ome!” “You will,” Debbie promised. “Trust me.” He cried through the entire fiasco that was the bath and even harder as Debbie wrapped him in a fluffy red towel to dry while Myles hunted for clothes. “That man,” Debbie huffed the longer he took. “Grab anything and I’ll shrink it down!” Myles returned soon enough with a handful of garments. First was a billowy nightshirt in impeccable condition. Not a spec of dirt or wear which happened to be a sharp contrast to the entire home. The second was a rectangle of fabric. “This was my sister’s growing up,” He held out the nightshirt. “And I figure this…Is necessary.” He held out the fabric. “Oh, my my,” Debbie said with a pleasant smile. “He’ll look so adorable. Like a little Pumpkin Prince should!” She grabbed the garments and held a squirming Nathan over to Myles while she shrunk them to size. Myles bounced Nathan slightly, trying to cheer him up. “You’re gonna go home, kiddo. We’ll go right after we get you dressed.” Nathan’s cries ceased from exhaustion once the clothes were ready. Debbie slipped the nightshirt over his head and tied the neckline in a neat bow. His humiliation increased as he realized the strip of fabric was in fact a diaper. But it was an old-school sort. The kind that was done up with safety pins Debbie had no trouble conjuring out of thin air and secured the diaper on. “There we go, Viscount Dracul.” She spoke in a heavily accented tone before scooping him into her arms and encouraging him to lean against her shoulder. “Let’s go then.” And Nathan watched as Myles packed a small canvas bag with various items. A blanket, a stuffed pumpkin plush, and an umbrella which most definitely shouldn’t have fit in the bag but did. “Remember, Nathan. I’m your uncle. Your mommy and daddy let you stay with me for the day and now we’re sending you home. You are 18 months old and you’re very tired after a long day of playing.” “M’tay.” Nathal gave a shuddered breath. It wouldn’t be too hard to pretend to be exhausted, he thought. Boy was he wrong as they stepped out into the front yard. If the inside of the cottage was straight out of a movie, the outside view was an otherworldly vision. Myles’ cottage sat on top of a large hill overlooking an entire village. The village was abuzz with sights. Quaint little houses all as cozy and homely as Myles lined up along a grid of walkways. But the further out the walkways went, the more the town changed. It was as if it were one big carnival. The music carried through the air, wrapping around Nathan’s mind and luring him in. He could smell the sweetness of caramel apples and kettle corn. “Head down, baby,” Debbie instructed softly. The trio walked (well Nathan was carried) down the hill to the entrance of the town. Chatter could be heard all around. They didn’t make it far before a chirp-like voice called out to them. “Mr. Myles! We’ve been looking for you,” Nathan turned his head to see a rather short creature with the head of a raven approaching. “We need another judge for the pumpkin carving contest!” “I wish I could, Cork, but I need to get this little guy home.” “Oh?! Who is this?” They asked stepping up to Debbie. “My nephew,” Myles said quickly. “Really we have to go. His mother wants him home before nightfall. And he’s already so sleepy. You know how babies are-” The bird creature gave a pleasant tweet as it held its hands-wings? Up to Debbie to receive the child. “Let me get a looksie!” Nathan watched Mr. Myles give Debbie a look as she bent over and handed Nathan over. “He doesn’t look so sleepy to me,” Cork trilled while looking Nathan over. “What’s his name?” “Uh..” Myles’ eyes shifted back and forth to get an idea. “Nathaniel.” Cork nodded and Nathan felt a delicate feather pressing his chin down slightly. He let out a noise of discontentment and Cork let him go quickly. “Such a strong name. And I can see his fangs poking through he’s gonna be a heartthrob for the ladies. I can already tell!” Cork handed Nathan back to Debbie as he started to squirm. “You should bring him ‘round to Martha. She’d love to meet him!” “I would, but-” “Martha!” Cork cawed through the air. Pretty soon a whole horde of Hollow Folk came to get an eyeful of Mr. Myles’ nephew Nathaniel. And with them came gifts. Nathan couldn’t help but preen at the attention even if some of the Hollow Folk made his tiny heart clench at the sight of them. They were all quite nice from their first impression. He didn’t know which one had deposited a sunflower crown on his head, but it made him feel special nonetheless. One woman in a similar, newer-looking, black apron compared to Debbie’s came up with a small spoon food of orange-tinted puree. “Let’s see how the baby likes my pumpkin pie.” Nathan wasn’t one to turn down treats, especially if they were as delicious as the hot cocoa he was served before. The tiny spoon slipped into his mouth and he mushed the paste around with his clumsy tongue. It was miles better than the store-bought pies his mother tended to buy at the last moment for Thanksgiving. The filling filled his mouth with warmth and as he swallowed his bite, he couldn’t help but let out a gurgled giggle. “‘Ummy!” He tried to tell the woman who visibly melted at the sight of his joy. “Oh my stars, he loves it!” She cheered triumphantly. “Now, wait a minute,” A sweeter voice chimed in from the back of the crowd. “I want him to try mine!” “And mine!” Several more voices piped up and Nathan found himself the sole judge in a pie-baking contest. Debbie sat down on a bench made from woven fibers and a line of women wanting their pie judged filled in front of her. When each pie was tasted, and each woman gave a word of praise from his limited vocabulary (because each one, he swore, was the best pie he had ever tasted) he was handed a large blue ribbon. “Which one was the best?” Debbie encouraged him to pick. She even set him down on his feet to choose despite his bare feet. The ground was soft even for a child, tufts of grass not too long to trip, but long enough to cover the soil. He took one step forward towards the group. Nathan blinked at the group of women eagerly waiting to be chosen for the ribbon. This attention was as far different than before. He was the center of attention, but rather than doting on him, they were waiting for him to do something. It was all too familiar to his parents. Waiting for him to decide on a college, waiting for him to graduate, waiting for him to do something impressive. Eager to just get it over with, Nathan rushed over to the first woman, the youngest of the group, and handed her the ribbon. He didn’t wait for their response before he rushed to the nearest adult he recognized which just so happened to be Myles. Myles of course wasted no time scooping him up into his arms. Nathan buried his face into the rough texture of the flannel on Myles’ shoulder and held onto him tightly. “‘Ome. ‘Ome.” The revelry of the group seemed to dissipate as they realized their judge wasn’t as enthusiastic as before. “Oh no,” One baker cooed softly. “Did we scare him?” “No, no,” Myles was quick to assure. “Poor baby isn’t used to such a large crowd. He’s really looking forward to seeing his Mommy and Daddy again.” “Well, if Mary would bring him by once in a harvest moon he wouldn’t be so jumpy,” Someone scoffed. “But she’s pretty busy up in her ivory tower now, too busy to say hi to us hicks, huh?” “That’s my sister you’re talking about,” Myles warned. “She’s just been busy what with her work and now the baby-” Debbie took it as a great time to step in. “You all forget how old-school the Count is. He was around before we folk started to spread out. It took him and Mary a great deal of thinkin’ before they decided to let Myles keep the baby overnight.” She lied flawlessly. “Now instead of judging a first-time mom, we should all be thankful and show her her faith was not lost on us to show her baby boy a good time.” “But that can wait til the next trip!” Myles stepped in once more. “She only let me watch him for a few hours so we should get him back about now-” “Awww can’t it wait just a little longer?” Cork lamented. “We haven’t had a baby around since Tibby and Fibby were born!” “And that was over a decade ago!” “Next time,” Myles swore. “If I don’t get him back by nightfall, she’ll be so angry she won’t let me watch him again.” A gasp overtook the crowd as if he admitted to some heinous crime. And then it wasn’t so hard to walk through the village. People waved and cooed at Nathan but didn’t try to halt their path. A few times, they would hand the boy small trinkets and gifts which he accepted happily. A hand-carved wooden dog, a necklace with a bat on the end, and even a woven bracelet slipped onto his chubby wrist. Despite his fright from before, Nathan felt his heart sink the closer and closer they grew to an old white building with purple light emanating from stained glass panes. Was he ready to go home? Wouldn’t it be better to just stay here where people clearly wanted him around? He made a small noise of distress and Myles patted him on his back soothingly. “We’re almost there, bud. You’ll be home soon.” “Wha…” The baby stuttered, fingers dipping closer to his lips in nervousness. “I ‘tay?” He asked. “What is it?” Myles asked, pausing in his steps and looking at Nathan’s hidden face. “Wan’ ‘tay.” Nathan spoke clearer. Debbie chose then to pipe up. “I think he’s asking to stay, Myles.” At once, Myles’ face fell. “Oh, son,” “Wan’ ‘tay.” “You gotta go home, son. Your parents are probably wondering where you are. I already told the town you’re going home…Your place is up there,” Myles motioned to the dirt ceiling. “You’ll go home and eat dinner and…this will all just seem like a weird dream.” Tears sprouted in Nathan’s eyes as his lip quivered. “Nooo!” Myles didn’t know what it was like. Myles could just disappear down here where people liked him and forget about the outside world. His fists struck, thumping against Myles’ shoulder without force but the man kept walking. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he stayed,” Debbie piped up. “Just for a little while…” “Time moves differently up there, Debs,” Myles sighed. “Each night here is two months up there. He has a life and family up there. And we can’t keep him. Especially if my sister heard that I’ve been toting around a topsider as my nephew.” Nathan sobbed heaving breaths. If he went home, he’d have to go back to a family who barely cared about him. To friends too busy deciding their own futures to even spend the day with him. To the stack of transcripts and pamphlets on his desk demanding he decides what he was going to do when there wasn’t anything that interested him in the world. He wasn’t an athlete or a genius. He was just Nathan, a small-town boy who sometimes bagged groceries at the EZ Mart on the corner. What was there in the world for him when there was something so homely and soft right under his feet? Myles kept walking until he opened the door to the white building. He set Nathan down on the ground and Nathan found himself in a small room. The purple light came from an arched portal in the wall, swirling and glowing with energy. “Now all you have to do is walk through that portal and you’ll be home…” “Wan’ ‘tay!” Nathan said once more but Myles shook his head. “No, you don’t, buddy. You have a life you need to live…And I’ll still see you around occasionally. Maybe even come back to my patch next year and I’ll share a cup of cocoa with you.” Nathan looked up at Myles, his face crumbled and pleading. “You’re breaking my heart here, kid.” Myles sighed… “Go on…” Hands balled up in the fabric of his nightshirt, Nathan turned to the portal and ran through. Clearly, he wasn’t wanted… Nathan woke up on the cold hard ground with a gasp. Shooting up, he turned his head around to see that he was once more back in the pumpkin patch. He was in his old clothes free of any pumpkin guts and part of him wondered if he had just dreamed the entire thing. Tears bubbled in his eyes and he took a moment to cry at the loss. But as he went to stand, several things caught his eye. There in the grass was a sunflower flower crown, a hand-carved wooden dog a bracelet…and a plastic set of vampire fangs. Fishing around his neck, he felt the cold chain of a necklace as well. So it had happened… Gathering his trinkets, Nathan stood and had no other choice but to head home…He walked into the back door hoping to not be noticed, but his luck had always been terrible. “Nate? Is that you? Where have you been?!” His mother called out from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen you all day!” “I was over at Mike’s house…we were…looking at scholarships…” He lied quickly, already heading for the stairs and going up. “Well, we already ate dinner.” She called up to him. “Your plate’s in the fridge.” “Thanks, mom…” She left him alone after that and Nathan was free to hide away his new trinkets on his nightstand. He would lay in bed that night and dream about a world underground. People who looked odd, but had hearts made of gold. Being doted on. Being loved. He’d shed tears on his pillow, hoping one day he could go back.
  14. Part 1 I can’t say I was in a bright point of my life, literally or figuratively. The perpetual darkness of third shift work coupled with the lackluster performance in my freshman year of college and losing my girlfriend of two years only a month before had sent me down a spiral of depression that I wasn’t certain would have an achievable recovery. I thought when I graduated from high school that I’d had life all figured out. I would take the job working the night shift at the airport for a few years, then go on to become a hot-shot business man or advertising executive. The airport would provide me with free tuition to the university a few hours from my home town, and the degree would get me the rest of the way. I guess to tell you a little bit about myself... I’m Adam Stafford. I’m the youngest child of Dennis and Joanne Stafford, and brother to Megan. I grew up in a small community that kept me sheltered from just about everything not small-town or Jesus-y. My Dad is a pilot for United Airlines, my Mom an executive for the local hospital. They divorced my sophomore year of highschool in a very messy battle, and pretty much alienated everyone in the family from each other. We’ve all gone our own ways, really only communicating for weddings, funerals, birthdays, or normal holidays. Don’t feel bad, it really is better this way. I had a pretty good childhood, no major complaints. I was always outgoing as a kid, knowing that a sharp wit and self-deprecating humor would remove any ammo that any school bullies would seek to leverage. Not to be arrogant, but I was a cute kid. Unfortunately for me, the cuteness never really went anywhere. I never hit that magical growth spurt that would cause me to tower above my friends, dunk a ball, or set records of the track. I currently stand a slightly below average height of 5’6”. I also never seemed to experience the flood of testosterone that would sculpt my body like a Greek god either. I guess I just stayed cute and youthful when everyone else became handsome and matured. But, like I said, I was never really picked on, so I didn’t mind my height or looks. I was moderately popular by highschool, usually being known as the smart-ass class clown. I had no trouble maintaining a 4.0 grade point average while also cutting jokes constantly. My humor and confidence opened up doors for me. I was nominated to prom court my Junior year, and also started dating a beautiful girl named Sarah. She was a grade younger than I was and came from a well-respected family not far from mine. As my perverted uncle Nick would say “That girl comes from good stock.” She and I dated all through my senior year, never really had any fights, and my parents adored her and hers adored me. We were voted “Most Likely to Stay Together” by the yearbook committee and happily danced in the spotlight as homecoming king and queen... a real shocker since I didn’t play football. Sarah was heart-broken when I decided to move for school. She had known it was my intent, but I think she assumed I would change my mind because we were dating. I had considered staying a time or two, but with the still fresh divorce of my parents and my sister moving away to California for school, I knew I couldn’t stay in small-town America for much longer. After the initial shock wore off, we made the plan together that she would move in with me after she graduated and we would attend college together, live together, and live up to the expectations of the yearbook committee. My job, coupled with free tuition would allow us to get an apartment together and, down the road, we’d both graduate. We’d start a family, be rich and successful, and have a marriage so happy that our grandkids would tell their children about. It was that simple, and it all laid out perfectly. She and I did everything together while we dated. I loved it at the time, but later realized that the friends I had prior to us dating all seemed to have move on. I didn’t have any core friends anymore, she consumed my every waking moment. I don’t think she was trying to cause a falling out, I think she was just so in love with the thought of being in love that she couldn’t let go. Sarah and I were both each other’s first for just about everything. We awkwardly explored our raging teenage hormones not long after we started dating, both trying to build the courage to take things just a little bit further each opportunity we had. I can vividly remember the look on Sarah’s face when she touched my cock for the first time. It was over my shorts, but I could tell she tried to play it off like an accident as her hand slowly rubbed on my thigh. Of course having zero experience and a beautiful girl rub her hands on me caused some tenting to happen rather quickly. She noticed. It was the first touch that shot electricity through my body as we laid cuddled up on the chair in the den of her parents upscale country-chic home, a blanket covering our still-clothed bodies. She moved her hand away quickly at first contact. I could see her face from the corner of my eye, flushed with excitement, very lightly nibbling on her lower lip with nerves. After a few seconds, I felt her hand begin to creep back up. I heard her sigh audibly as she very carefully laid her hand on my now fully erect dick. I could see the faintest smile form on her face as she crossed the hurdle. Both of us were too afraid to do much else, but she did very gently rub for a moment before we heard the garage door open, signaling that our alone time was at an end. From that day on, we both pushed the envelope just a bit more. I took advantage of days she would wear skirts to school and use the ease of access to fondle her anytime we had some privacy. I’m happy to say that I was her first non-self-induced orgasm, right there under that same blanket on that same chair. I can remember hearing her try and stifle her moans, no doubt fearful of waking her parents directly above us in their bedroom. It nearly sent me over the edge as well when she sucked my fingers clean right after. One evening while her parents were out celebrating their anniversary, Sarah excused herself to the restroom in the middle of ‘The Goonies’ and emerged wearing only her baby blue thong and matching bra, her hair tied up with a white lace ribbon. She approached me, my jaw now slack from the beauty I was witnessing, and yanked the blanket from my lap. She settled in on her knees in front of me trying to appear confident and sexy, but I could see her trembling from nerves. I could tell how big of a step this was for her. She pulled my shorts and boxers down, nearly ripping them in the process, and stared wide-eyed at my dick. She never really looked closely at it while using her hands. She would usually play coy and keep watching TV while jerking me off. Now though, she was face to face. I can still see the shimmer from the chapstick on her lips as she very slowly moved her mouth over the head of my cock. She froze once it was in for what felt like an eternity. I could hear her breathing becoming rapid, and for the first time in front of me, I saw her hand move quickly into the waistband of her panties as she touched herself. As she began moving my dick in and out of her mouth, her hand motions became more rapid under the thin baby blue fabric. It wasn’t 3 minutes into the blowjob before Sarah had a massive orgasm, seemingly larger than the ones I could giver her with my own hands or tongue. She pulled her face away, a trail of saliva extending from the head of my cock to her lips and only said ‘fuck’. I believe it was at that very moment that Sarah realized that she had a passionate love for giving head. She attacked my dick after that, like there was nothing else in the world. She didn’t flench when I came, just swallowed and tried to keep going until I pushed her off due to the sensitivity. Things progressed from there. Sarah gave me head every chance she could, preferring to give orgasms rather than receive them. We finally had sex a few weeks after that, in the dark basement bedroom of a friends house. I was disappointed that she didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as I thought she would, opting after maybe 5 minutes to have me pull out and finish in her mouth. We didn’t have sex often, but when we would, it always ended in the same way. Everything in life was perfect, even after I moved… or so I thought. I went home many weekends and we seemed to pick up right where we left off. Everything was perfect. Until Sarah cheated on me, at least. I heard about it from a former classmate still living back home. He said he saw Sarah and some guy in a car together driving in town. He said it was a new looking BMW, a car that isn’t very common in our small town, so he took notice and tried to see who was driving. He didn’t recognize the guy driving, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was her, he got a clear view from the windshield as they passed on the road. He said he turned around to see what was up and after about 5 minutes of following them, he said he saw Sarah sit up tall, then lean her body across the center console of the car. He said he didn’t see her again for about 10 minutes and that the guy started driving pretty erratic during that time, and kept rolling his head around. He followed at a distance and eventually saw her head rise again and they carried on. He followed them until they turned into a restaurant. He circled the block and watched them walk hand-in-hand into the building. He even said she was wearing a little yellow sun dress... I knew it well. She always looked amazing in it. I guess it goes without saying that I felt like I had been stabbed in the chest as I listened to his recanting of the story. I trusted the guy and knew he wouldn’t be saying these things to fuck with me. I quickly got off the phone with him and called her, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried again, again right to voicemail. Finally she sent me a text asking what was up. I didn’t know what else to do so I said “Jeremy saw you two together. I’m bummed you never offered to give me road head.” Of course this elicited a call back right away. I was heartbroken, but I did appreciate that she didn’t try and deny anything. She didn’t lie. She said she wasn’t happy anymore and wanted to move on. By this point, I knew what she meant. I had started working third shift already and had a rapid decline in happiness. I was always cranky, always tired. She was right and I hated myself for it. “You’re not you anymore, Adam. You’re sad all of the time... you sleep constantly. You don’t strike up conversations on the phone, and that’s all we have most of the time since we can’t be together.” She had told me as I stared blankly at the wall of my kitchen, tears now flooding my vision. “I’m sorry you found out like this, but I’m glad you found out.” “Yeah, pretty shitty way of you breaking it off though.” I countered. She agreed. That was the last time we spoke. After Sarah ended it, I sunk further into a depressive state. My life revolved solely around work, school, and Netflix in my basement studio apartment. Typically I would wake up around 10 in the morning and catch the campus shuttle to class. The classes were specifically scheduled for employees of the airport, allowing us to work nights and attend school without as much sleep depravation. After class I would usually eat some dinner in the campus cafeteria and do some homework, then report in for my shift. I didn’t mind my job. It was easy compared to the manual labor most people had to do to pay for their tuition. I drove a tug around pulling trailers of packages bound for different planes all night. All... night... long. I could usually start my shift with a conversation with the dock supervisor and not talk to another person for the rest of the night. I was known as ‘Tug 4301’ and drove the exact route from the south dock to the west ramp, spots 1, 3, 5, 7, and 9, then back to the south dock to reload and do it all again. We weren’t allowed to have music, cell phones, audio books, or anything else to help pass the time due to FAA regulations, so I had hours to see the same sights, and have the same thoughts and internal conversations. At around 3 in the morning, I would park my tug back behind the south dock and begin the walk back to the shuttle to campus. From the bus stop, it was a brief walk back to my apartment. By this time, the vast majority of the factory employees had already departed, meaning the bus ride was usually as isolated as the tug. Back in the basement abyss, the daylight blacked out by thick curtains and a “Please do not disturb, I work the graveyard shift!” sign that the previous occupant had left behind, I ended my day with some concoction of frozen meals and another episode of The Office. Occasionally, I would think about Sarah. How her hair seemed to shine as intensely as the sun. How she would nibble gently at my lower lip when she would kiss me. How she would deftly put her hair up in a ponytail and lick her lips before she would push me back towards the bed or chair... or floor and nearly attack my dick. These memories would cease thanks to my self delivered orgasm, and I hate to say it... sometimes I would cry. I would always feel ashamed. By 5am, I would be asleep, waiting for the alarm to signal that it was time to live another instance of Groundhog Day all over again. It was nearly six months into this routine that I decided it was time to get help. I knew I was depressed. I scheduled an appointment with a counselor at school on a Monday morning. I didn’t work Sunday nights, so Monday was usually my ‘live like a normal person’ day, but I knew I was going to keep going down darker and darker paths until there was no return. Fortunately by this time, the nagging memories of Sarah had faded to an occasional jolt of emotion that would strike unprovoked, but would subside after a quick orgasm. “Have you been eating alright, you look really thin...” the counselor said as I sat in the chair across from her. The question reeled in my thousand yard stare. “Umm... probably could eat better, to be honest. I don’t have much of an appetite, really.” I awkwardly responded. I had lost a significant amount of weight in the past few months. At my high school graduation, I was nearly 140lbs. At my last work physical a few days prior, I was down to 116lbs. Even at 5’6”, I was looking too thin for my frame. “Adam, this is pretty serious. I think you need to see a doctor... this may be more than you and I can handle alone. You’ve got me a bit worried.” she said with a concerned look. “Will you do that? Will you promise me that you’ll see one of our doctors?” “Yeah, I guess so. Yeah.” murmured back. “And I want you to promise me, Adam... I want you to promise me that you’ll look after yourself until then. And I want you to promise me that you’ll come back and see me after your appointment. I’m going to schedule it. Okay?” “Yeah, of course.” I said, realizing that she was genuinely worried that I would hurt myself. “I will, I promise.” She smiled at that, and attempted to give me a reassuring pat on my hand. “Maybe you should hang out with some friends until then. Maybe try and have fun... see a movie, bowl, laser tag... try and not be alone if you can help it.” she said as she escorted me to the end of the hallway of the student health center. I smiled as best I could. I hoped it to be warm, but the look on her face told me that she could see right through the facade. The walk back to my apartment seemed colder than usual. I looked around at the other people navigating their way thought the urban campus with their heads slung low to protect from the biting wind and wondered if I was alone in feeling like this, or if there were others near me right now that were struggling just as bad. Maybe if I tried, I would find others like me and we could pick each other up. If I tried... but I really didn’t feel like trying. They probably wouldn’t either. I arrived back to my apartment and sat in bed, turned on Netflix, and opened up my laptop. It wouldn’t hurt to look and see if anyone was out there. Maybe grab lunch with someone, maybe a movie. I decided to check around on some of the school forums and Facebook to see if any groups were meeting soon. I didn’t see any that really caught my interest. I eventually ended up Craigslist thinking maybe there were some groups posting on there. I browsed for a while, nothing piquing my interest. I was about to close out the page when I saw the ‘Personals’ section and decided to browse that avenue as well just for the heck of it. The ‘F for M’ section was pretty sparse, most of the women looking were significantly older, had children, or were blatantly looking for money in exchange for company. While I wasn’t seeing anything that interested me, I was finding some thrill in reading the posts. Some were witty, some funny. Some were so sexually charged that I considered responding for a split second, kids or age be damned. I navigated each section enthralled by how some people were able to put themselves out there so openly, so anonymously vulnerable. I envied their cavalier attitude and only wished I could put myself out there like they did. I kept going down the rabbit hole, page after page, profile after profile. Some of the specifics people were listing were repulsive, but many made me jealous that I didn’t have Sarah to try them with. I wasn’t really prepared for some of the detail I encountered in the ‘M for M’ section, to say the least. I had never really given much thought to gay sex, it was something that went undiscussed in sheltered small-town USA. I didn’t have any issue with gay people, but I honestly didn’t give it much more thought than that. But the level of detail described of the litany of posts from just today... I didn’t have to use my imagination much. I clicked through post after post, caught up in reading the carnal nature of the post, intrigued beyond belief by what I was reading. Most of the posts didn’t talk about love or relationships, they talked about gritty sex. They talked about gang bangs and blow-and-gos. Anonymous mouths for anonymous dicks. It was enthralling. “Loving but Firm Professional seeking Young, Inexperienced to Nurture and Teach” the title read as I scrolled down the list, measured now by minutes scrolling rather than pages. It was lost in the sea of others, but it stood out to me for some reason. I clicked the link and stared intently as the screen flickered from the main page to the posting. “Hi, thanks for reading. I’m a 38 year old legal professional looking for a young boy between 18 and 22 to teach about sexual desire. Ideal candidate is slim and naturally submissive to power, and completely inexperienced with men. I want a boy I can build from the ground up. Must have an open mind. Message me if you think this is you, you’ll know right away if it is.” Fuck. I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but my heart began to race, my hands became sweaty, and my lips dry. I read and reread the post multiple times, each time exciting me more. It was as if instinct required that I replied. I straightened myself up in bed and began to search my laptop for a face picture that was generic enough to be lost in a crowd. I didn’t want this guy recognize me right away, just in case. I found a full body picture from earlier in the fall at a Halloween party back home. I didn’t dress up, but I thought I looked decent, and the ball cap I was wearing at the time obstructed part of my face. “Hello. I’m not gay, so I’m not sure why I’m replying to be honest. I've never been with a guy. I'm 18, a freshman in college. Something about your post. It struck me. I don’t even know what else to write. You don't have to write back if you don't want or if I don't fit what you say you're looking for." Attachment: 1” My heart was frantically beating in my chest as I hit send from my spam collecting Yahoo Mail account. I had felt more alive in these few minutes than I can remember feeling since moving to the city. I stared at the inbox, nearly expecting an immediate rejection reply or an email from someone back home saying they were cat-fishing and happened to reel me in. I stared at the screen for at least five minutes, barely breathing before setting the laptop down and getting up to use the restroom and grab a drink. I nearly dove across the room when I heard the ‘Ding’ signifying a new email. “Save 15% or more on car insurance with Geico”. Damn it. What the hell was I doing. I’m not gay. I’ve literally never even thought about it until 10 minutes ago, and now I’m so worked up to get the attention of someone writing on a public forum. I closed the laptop and walked over to the chair to focus in on Season 4 of The Office... yet again. Sipping on the Diet Coke and watching Dwight be Dwight and Jim be Jim, the urge to check again struck me. It had been some time, surely enough for some sort of response. I retyped the password into the Yahoo Mail page and saw the familiar ’Inbox (1)’ notification staring me in the face. I clicked, and went weak as the page opened. There it was. “Re: Seeking” I took a deep breath and clicked on the email that loaded painfully slow. “Hello. Thanks for writing. I know you. Don’t worry, not you specifically (although hard to tell with the photo so far away). I know your type though. I'm willing to bet that you just happed to stumble upon my message without really going out and looking for it. I have a feeling this is so new to you that you've really got very little desire in actually meeting anyone. If you are serious about at least meeting up and discussing more, send me a better picture. -Steve” With a slight smirk on my face, and my heart back to racing, I opened Facebook to find a better picture to send. I selected one from a family vacation in Hawaii. I had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and was standing shirtless in front of a waterfall on the Napali Coast. I was bronzed by the sun, and a smile beaming on my face. A tinge of pain hit me as I looked at the picture, I was standing there with Sarah. Her beautiful face staring up at me, a smirk affixed to her full lips, and her gorgeous body clad in a small red bikini. I drew in a deep breath and downloaded the photo to my desktop and cropped Sarah’s face and body out of the picture until only myself and the waterfall remained. “As requested. -Adam Attachment: 1” Sent. I felt as if I were going to vomit at that point. If this were a rouse, I was surely busted. It was clearly me in the photo, no mistaking that. A screencap of the conversation with my picture plastered there was surely enough to ruin any chance I had at a happy life, if malice were intended. Ding. Inbox (1) “Re: re: re: Seeking” “You’re perfect, baby. Perfect in every way. You are exactly what I was hoping you would be. My name is Steve. I’ve been pretty clear with what I’m really looking for, so I hope that you’ll understand when I say that I’m not interested in games and flaking out on meetings, etc. If you really are interested, and if you really are willing, I want to meet you face to face. Send me your phone number if you want to keep going. Attachment: 1” I double clicked the attachment, fearful that what I had conjured up in my mind would be a far stray from reality. The painfully slow wi-fi struggled to open the picture, but when it did, I was stunned. He was so handsome. Large, for sure. Not fat at all, but he had to be at least 6’6” judging by the SUV that he towered over. He had a stern smile and an intense gaze at the camera... it felt as if he took the picture specifically for me. His hair, his suit... he was the personification of masculine. I struggled to figure out how only a few hours ago I was numb and seemingly entirely heterosexual, and now I was lusting over a man. A dominant man... and I wanted it to happen so bad. I did everything I could for the next few hours to distract myself from the email. I had to be at work tonight, so no phone, no email. I knew if I wanted to go through with this, I would need to decide well before then. He was very insistent that the only content in the reply be my phone number. What if I sent it and he called while I was working? What if he began texting me with times and locations and I was unable to reply? I knew I had to decide now. Being the decisive and confident guy I am, I flipped a coin. Okay... heads, I send my phone number. Tails... I don’t. Simple. Leave it up to fate. With a deep breath, I flipped the coin into the air. Heads. “I’m serious: 555-776-2323 -Adam”
  15. Hey everyone I'm a baby girl located in the Pittsburgh area trying to find a caretaker/daddy. I'e been without one for a little while and I would really like to have one again. I love to cuddle and I love to be taken care of. Spankings are perfectly okay with me and I even kindve like them
  16. Jennifer is a professor at a local college and she gets so stressed out that she wets herself. She decides to take some time off and puts a ad online hoping that someone will take good care of her. What they don't know is that she is a adult baby.
  17. Introduction Nestled in a forested and remote part of Pennsylvania, the close-knit community known as Little Haven is more than just a town—it's a unique space where littles and their partners, who often take on the role of caretakers, come together and live. This extraordinary community is exclusively populated by individuals who actively engage in the ABDL (Adult Baby Diaper Lover) lifestyle or simply love the sight of happy faces freely being themselves and enjoying what they love. Despite its secluded location, Little Haven has tons of amenities that make it so residents don't have any reason to leave town once they arrive. Some of these amenities include trails and parks, as well as its own adult daycare and schooling system tailored specifically for adult littles or adults looking to further their education. Adding to its charm, Little Haven features a grocery store, inviting spots for littles to hang out, and a couple of places to grab a bite or drink. What truly sets this town apart though is its adoption center, a unique institution facilitating the integration of new residents into the fabric of this secluded society. This exceptional community was created by a wealthy founder—a media mogul turned semi-retired and cheerful mayor. Generously, the mayor directly covers a significant portion of the town's expenses. This financial support is complemented by a constant influx of development and investment from new residents eager to lead a unique kind of life. Many of these residents contribute to the town's prosperity by working remotely or at local offices and factories, producing a variety of ABDL and Little supplies. They supply the community and the rest of the world with products such as adult diapers, pacifiers, little clothing in many sizes, adult baby furniture, and educational resources for the community. It is because of all this that the town is able to survive and thrive in the 21st century, allowing adults all over the world to come and participate in what makes them truly happy. This is little haven.
  18. I woke up and stretched my legs as far as I could before they were stopped by the white wooden bars of the crib I was laying in. At 5'7" and 34 years old I was quite surprised I could fit in it well enough to sleep and that it could support my weight. In case I needed a reminder why I was in a crib at this age, my wet diaper underneath my footie pajamas covered in adorable alpacas and snapped up and down both of my legs and crotch kept me from forgetting. Oddly enough, I didn't hate it but it really wasn't my thing either. I knew how happy it made my husband seeing me completely dependent on him and he was lucky I loved him so much to agree to this. It wasn't the first time I wore a diaper for him and not even the first time I donned clothes more suited for a toddler, however, it was the first time I had slept in a diaper and in a crib, though I could see by the lack of light coming in from behind the curtains that I still quite a bit of sleeping to do tonight. Every time before tonight when we had played 'daddy/baby' I was diapered, bottle fed, and snuggled while sucking a pacifier and watching a movie. When the movie ended, so would the baby routine. My husband would lie me down and remove my diaper, clean my private area with baby wipes and gently slide my adult panties back on me and tell me over and over how much he loved me and how happy it made him that I would humor this side of him. It was nice to see him so happy. This week would be different. We rented a vacation home a few hours from our house that had an adorable toddler room for a girl around two. It was decorated perfectly with pink and very light blue elephants and butterflies with thick white carpeting and a large play mat with babyish unicorns all displaying a letter of the alphabet. A baby monitor was anchored to the wall above the crib ensuring the hippo and giraffe mobile did not block the view of the baby inside. A changing table fully stocked with changing supplies sat opposite the crib next to a white dresser painted with fun patterns of pink and polka-dots. The rocking chair in the corner near the window looked ever so inviting and I was sure was used many times to calm down a cranky or hungry baby. If it weren't for the adult sized but baby themed diapers that my husband placed next to the stack of toddler diapers you would have never guessed it was a room for an adult. I knew I had better get back to sleep but it was hard to get comfortable. The plastic mattress protector under me was loud and trying to lay on my side was uncomfortable as my diaper was very swollen between my thighs making the position awkward. Laying on my stomach felt better and if I could have fully stretched my legs I would have felt comfortable but that wasn't an option. As I stirred and repositioned myself trying to find that perfect spot I spotted the pacifier I was put to bed with and placed it in to my mouth. I found it surprising that it was the item I enjoyed most when being babied by my husband. Perhaps the soothing feeling it gave me was instinctual or maybe it was just enough to take my mind off other things, like a warm wet and slightly itchy diaper, but at any rate, it did the trick and I found a comfortable position laying down with my stomach on my upper thighs and my padded bottom slightly in the air. I was nervous to what the morning would bring but very excited to be changed into a fresh diaper.
  19. A/N: IMPORTANT TO NOTICE Hey all! I hope you're all doing well! Do not worry! I am still working on my other stories but had started this a while ago and felt like I should post it! Just a warning in the beginning that this story will contain a lot of non-con, sexual content and humiliation. If this makes you uncomfortable than I suggest you don't read it! I love seeing comments so I'd love to see everyone's comments! ooOoo Summary: When a young new independent journalist decides to write about something other than the typical run of the mill stories, she is introduced into a new life, just not in the way she expected. ooOoo Chapter 1: MommyslittleBiggurls.com 22 December 2021 Hello Friends! It sure has been a while! I hope you’re all doing well on this frosty morning. Here in Montana, we’re certainly going to have a white Christmas. Sugar and Cookie sure are excited to see Santa and have been extra careful to be good girls; always asking for the potty like good little girls, eating all of their veggies at dinner and making sure to drink all of their babas full of yummy milk! I’m sure you all are experiencing the same with your little ones at the moment, even the disobedient can’t ignore the happy cheer of Christmas. I really can’t believe it’s only been three months since we first adopted our newest little girl, Honey! Of course with new littles, it’s always an adventure and Sugar and Cookie are being the best big sisters they can be! It can be hard, especially around the holidays to deal with an un-regressed, naughty little so that brings me to the topic of today’s post: Punishments. If you're like me or are a new caregiver, it’s never easy training a new little and before they can be our sweet little babies, they will be literal demons! It is never fun but in order to nip that naughty behavior in the bum, punishment is required and it is not always as simple as quick spanking. Listed below, you will find three different punishments to try if you, like me, were at a loss. Punishments: Punishment 1: Corner time with a twist Depending on the severity of the naughty behavior, instruct your little one it's corner time for a certain amount of time. While many, if not all, will just find this incredibly boring and whine, there is a small twist. Listen carefully to these five steps: Take littles’ clothes away (that means no diapers/pullups/or undies as well!), Give a nice soapy cold enema to their bum-bum and insert a buttplug to ensure no dribbles Administer a firm spanking (I’ve found different objects such as a belt or hairbrush to be most effective!) Little will bend down or kneel in the corner with their bum-bum high in the air for everyone to see After a certain amount of time, if the little has not moved from their position, you will instruct the little to tell you what they did wrong and have them beg to release their bodily functions. If you are unsatisfied with their response, even more minutes will be added to corner time Punishment 2: Potty Time with Horsy Let’s get real, we’ve all struggled with littles refusing to go potty in their diapers or on the training toilet and it’s a pain to have to insert enemas and suppositories into screaming littles. That’s how I came up with horsy time. The rocking horse, while meant to be an object of amusement during playtime, can just as quickly be turned into an object of torture. What you need to do is listed below: The little will sit on the rocking horse in only their bottoms, whether that be a diaper or pull-up Place earphones on little and set to the wet diaper hypnosis Instruct the little to rock back and forth and do not stop no matter what and not to mess or wet themselves Plan a certain amount of time and come back when the time is up If the little is still rocking and is dry, they have earned the privilege to go potty. If not, horsy time is extended and the dirty diaper stays on another several hours The constant rhythmic motion combined with hypnosis at the same timing will put the littles right in the mood to have to relieve themselves. How they do it will no longer matter. The added pressure to keep a constant rocking in order to avoid further punishment will take a heavy toll on their mind as well and increase the need for positive behavior. Punishment 3: No Playtime with Teddy If you choose to allow your little to have any sexual release, this punishment can have a rewarding effect. As a human race, we are sexual beings but not everyone deserves or should have such an experience. Littles have gotten it into their minds that they should be allowed to have such experiences, but what do they know? They’re just littles. It is our job as caretakers to instruct and control their urges. If we leave them to their own devices, who knows what will happen? My little girls are allowed one play session a week with Mr. Teddy Bear to release all of their icky cummies by the hand of mommy and daddy. While Rosie and Cookie know being a good girl will lead to happy feelings, Honey is still learning. Orgasm and cum denial or “the tickles and ice cream dance” as we call it, are an excellent way to assert dominance and make them quickly realize who the real grownups are and who is in charge. Mittens or restraints are a must for untrained littles! You never know where their wandering hands will end up! Chastity belts are also a great device, especially if they get a little too excited during playtime and try humping (which is extremely discouraged!) IMPORTANT: It is important to enforce anything sexual is not allowed without the approval, observation, and act by grown-ups because you never know when littles might accidentally injure themselves! I hope you all enjoyed my little list and hopefully it helps you on your journey to having a regressed little! It may seem tough at times but we’ve all gone through it before (I currently am!) Stay tuned for next time and meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas! Love, Mommy Bree ooOoo The sound of the ding signaling the post had been successfully posted was a happy feeling to say the least. Unknown outside the world of ageplay, Bree Hawthorne was as famous as could be within the community. With over ten thousand followers and readers, people tuned in from all over the world to read about their simple little family. Being a blogger on top of a mommy had become her full time job and she didn’t regret a single second of it. She always knew she wanted to have a family and her love for blogging couldn’t have been a more perfect combination. There were so many who envied to fill the role of a Hawthorne little but only so few could actually meet the requirements. That’s why they had taken to unique means of obtaining their little girls. Kidnapping was a bit too harsh a term. They preferred adoption. Did the public need to know that? No. Would they ever find out? Probably not. Looking around outside the large glass windows, the only view for miles was farmland with snow capped mountains in the background. Bloomington, Montana was the perfect place to go to if one didn’t want to be found. They had the freedom to be who they were without any nosey neighbors disrupting their lives. Her husband, coming from old money, allowed them to own lavish homes around the country, buy the newest high-tech adult-baby equipment and pay off those they needed to stay quiet. Everything was as it should be. Everything would soon be perfect. They were our babydolls. Sugar, Cookie, Honey and- “Another post?” Jasper. At the sound of his deep voice, she spun around in the swivel chair. Face to face with her blonde, strong-jawed, blue eyed handsome husband. He was everything she dreamed of in a man. Strong, smart, caring, loyal. A great daddy to their three wonderful girls. What more could a person ask of a spouse? “Yes. I’ve finished just in time for… lunch!” she exclaimed, glancing at the time and shutting down the macbook. “Today’s post was about punishments and I gave the best examples of Honey. How is she doing this morning actually? The baby monitor on her end has been awfully quiet.” she asked, having been in the office the entire morning working. “Sleeping.” was his only response, scowling with his hand over his face. “Do I want to know what happened?” “No.” It was always a struggle to tame the girl and her rebellious behavior and silly dreams. Most often then not her bum was black and blue, littered with marks and bruises. How a five foot, one-hundred-twenty pound girl with not an ounce of body fat had managed to give them this much a fight, they did not know. While the little blonde fought they pushed back just as hard. She would break eventually. They all do. “Sugar and Cookie are in the playpen writing letters to Santa,” that made them crack a smile. “I can feed them while you handle, Honey? I may just take her over my knee again and that’s not what she needs at the moment.” Bree reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck as his face burrowed into her kinky black hair, placing a trail of kisses upon her chocolate colored skin. “So it’s my turn to play the bad mommy,” she mused. “Precisely.” her husband cracked a smile. “It feels so much longer than three months since we got her. Remember?” Oh, how could they forget…
  20. Nora and Emma skipped down the sun-dappled street, their laughter harmonizing with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Hand in hand, they approached Nora's house, a cozy abode adorned with cheerful colors and an inviting warmth. Nora's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Emma, I'm so happy you're here for a sleepover! We're going to have so much fun!" Emma, equally thrilled, couldn't help but grin. "I can't wait, Nora! Your house is so pretty!" As they entered, the nursery greeted them with an array of stuffed animals, vibrant toys, and a soft, comforting ambiance. Nora's daddy, Mr. Johnson, stood nearby, his welcoming smile making the girls feel right at home. "Hello, you two! Are you ready for your sleepover?" Mr. Johnson's warm voice filled the room. "Hello, Mr. Johnson!" Emma greeted with a bright smile as she entered the cozy nursery. "Hello, Emma!" Mr. Johnson replied warmly, pleased by Emma's politeness. "Are you ready for a fun sleepover?" Emma nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mr. Johnson! I can't wait to play with Nora." Daddy checks Nora's diaper to make sure she's comfortable. He gently pats her diaper, feeling for any signs of wetness. Nora, with her bright eyes and cheerful demeanor, giggles playfully. "All dry, Daddy!" she chirps, confirming that her diaper is still snug and dry. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Emma playfully nudges Mr. Johnson and grins, "You know, Mr. Johnson, Nora's only dry because she just got changed at the Regression School. She had a messy accident, but they took good care of her." Mr. Johnson chuckles, appreciating Emma's teasing tone. "Well, it sounds like they're doing a great job over there. Thanks for keeping an eye on Nora, sweetheart." Nora joins in the light-hearted moment, giggling and adding, "Yeah, they really are nice, Daddy!" Mr. Johnson turns to Emma with a warm smile. "And what about you, Emma? Did you get a change too?" Emma blushes even deeper, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that matches her outfit. She clears her throat again, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "Um, no, Mr. Johnson," she stammers, "I'm, uh, still fully potty trained." Mr. Johnson gives her an understanding nod, his warm smile never wavering. "That's perfectly alright, Emma. We all have our own preferences and experiences. Just remember, we're here to support you in whatever way you feel comfortable. If you want to borrow one of Noras´s diapers just give me a call."Emma, appreciating the offer, shakes her head with a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Mr. Johnson, but I'll be alright. I'll stick with Panties for now." As Nora and Emma adjourn to the nursery, Daddy heads to the kitchen to prepare a snack or perhaps a meal for his little girls. He knows that after a day of learning and play at the Regression School, they'll need some nourishment to keep their energy up. In the nursery Emma looked at Nora with genuine curiosity. "Nora, if you don't mind me asking, what made you choose to wear diapers? Nora giggled. "I just really like how soft and cozy they feel, Emma. It's like wearing a big, warm hug all day! And they make me feel safe, like a little kid who doesn't have to worry about finding a potty in time. Plus, they come in such fun colors and patterns, it's like wearing cute clothes all the time!" Emma couldn't help but smile at Nora's enthusiastic explanation. Emma bit her lip, looking a bit concerned. "But Nora, what about accidents, don´t they feel uncomfortable or...icky?” Nora looked at Emma with a smile, trying to explain. "Well, Emma, it's like... it's all warm and cozy, and it makes me feel safe, like a big hug. And when it's wet, it's like a little tickle, and it reminds me that I'm being taken care of, just like a baby. It a really like being a wet diaper princess." Emma listened, trying to understand. "So, it's like being hugged by a warm, tickly cloud?" Nora giggled. "Yeah, kinda like that! And I don't have to stop what I'm doing to go to the potty, and I never have to worry about finding a bathroom. It's all taken care of right here," she said, patting her diaper with a smile. "And if it gets wet or messy, well, it's not really my problem, is it? Emma blushed, processing Nora's words. "I guess it’s not," she admitted blushing, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "That's right!" Nora giggled. "It's Daddy's or a caregiver's job to take care of it. They make sure I'm all clean and comfy again. It feels really nice, like being taken care of just like a little kid." Emma, feeling curious, looks at Nora and says, "You know, Nora, I've never tried diapers before, and I'm starting to wonder what it's like. Would you be willing to help me give it a try?" Nora's eyes sparkle with excitement as she claps her hands gently. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun, Emma! Don't worry, I'll help you with everything. It's like being wrapped in a soft, fluffy cloud," she exclaims.Nora gently takes Emma's hand and leads her to a cozy corner of the nursery. She smiles reassuringly. "Alright, Emma, let's get you all set up." With a tender touch, she helps Emma remove her clothes, folding them neatly on a nearby chair. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Nora encourages, her voice warm and comforting. Nora realized with a shock, that didn’t know the first thing about diaper changes, it having been Daddy´s responsibility for so long. Nora hesitates for a moment before deciding to go to the kitchen and fetch Daddy. She walks in, blushing a little, and finds him in the kitchen. "Daddy, um... could you come to the nursery? We, uh, need a little help with something," she stammers, feeling a bit awkward about the situation. Daddy looks up from what he's doing, a curious expression on his face. "Of course, sweetie. What do you need help with?" Nora shifts uncomfortably, glancing back towards the nursery. "It's, um, about the diapers," she mumbles, her face turning even redder. Daddy nods understandingly and sets down what he's holding. "Alright, let's go." He follows Nora back to the nursery, where Emma is waiting, her face also flushed with embarrassment. They all stand there, a mix of curiosity and nervousness in the air. Daddy notices Emma's uncertain expression and gently asks, "Emma, would you like to give diapers a try? It's perfectly okay if you're not sure, but if you're curious, I´m here to help." Emma looks between Mr. Johnson and Nora, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity. After a moment, she nods shyly. "I... I think I'd like to try, just to see what it's like," she admits, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. Nora´s Daddy smiles warmly. gestures towards the shelves filled with various diapers. "Emma, why don't you go ahead and pick out a diaper that you think you'd like?" Emma walks over to the shelves, her heart pounding with nervousness and anticipation. She examines the colorful designs, finally selecting one with soft pastel patterns, similar to the diaper on Nora´s butt. She turns back to Mr. Johnson, holding it in her hands. "I think... I'll try this one," she says, her voice a bit shaky. Mr. Johnson smiles approvingly. "Good choice, Emma. Now, let's find a comfortable spot for you." He leads Emma to a changing table, gently guiding her to lie down. He reassures her, "Remember, there's no rush, and you can let me know if you're uncomfortable at any point." Emma nods. Daddy skillfully unfolds the diaper and gently lifts Emma's legs, sliding it underneath her. He carefully applies some powder and then smoothly fastens the tapes, ensuring a snug but comfortable fit. Throughout the process, Emma feels a mix of vulnerability and trust. Nora watches with wide-eyed fascination, giggling at the sight. "You look so cute, Emma!" she exclaims, unable to contain her excitement. Emma blushes deeply, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and a surprising sense of comfort. She looks up at Mr. Johnson, who offers her an encouraging smile. "There you go, all set," he says gently, helping Emma sit up. Emma shifts experimentally, feeling the soft padding of the diaper against her skin. It's a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. She looks down at herself, still adjusting to the sight of a diaper peeking out from under her clothes. Daddy and Nora exchange a knowing glance, both clearly delighted that Emma has taken this step. "You're doing great, Emma," Daddy praises, patting her on the back. Daddy gently lifts Emma off the changing table and sets her back on her feet. The girls are then free to return to their play. Emma, however, can't help but be distracted by the unusual sensation of her diaper. As she moves around and plays with Nora, she finds herself periodically touching or adjusting the diaper, still not entirely used to the feeling. Nora notices Emma's preoccupation and chuckles. "It's okay, Emma. Diapers take a little getting used to, but you'll see, they're not so bad once you get used to them. Let's keep playing!" She grabs Emma's hand, eager to continue their imaginative adventure. [too be continued]
  21. Sarah is so stressed out in collage since she has know parents she goes online to look for a couple that will take care of her from now on.
  22. Just before 25-year-old programmer and chess IM (International Master) Isabelle drowns, she is pulled to the Diaper Dimension by the UN's Dimensional Rescue Group. Things don't quite go her way, but she has a powerful ally... Your Move Foreword Welcome to Part 1 of my first story. A year ago today I started posting a chapter a week, and I stopped when I got to the end of Part 1 since my Junior year of university was starting, and I just didn't have the time to study and write on top of extracurriculars (I'm a good boy! I got a 3.9 GPA this year! ?). This summer I found some spare time to write a bit every day after work (internship), and I've produced 7 chapters so far. With the way the story has taken it's own life, I'm only about 1/3 of my way through the plot points that I've had planned out for Part 2! Unfortunately, I don't forsee being able to finish Part 2 this summer, because of the amount of things I get up to (including editing @BabySofia's Lights! Camera! ...What?!?), so you may be left on a cliffhanger (Sorry! ??), but at least you'll get to read a couple more chapters (over on the original thread): Without further ado, here's the edited, up-to-date version of Part 1. There may be some small plot changes from the original thread, but consider this the canon version. Part 1: Opening "Attackers may sometimes regret bad moves, but it is much worse to forever regret an opportunity you allowed to pass you by." — Garry Kasparov Chapter 1 — What the Hell I never expected it to be like this. Frankly, I didn't think I was even supposed to be in Hell. Even though I wasn't the most devout Christian, I certainly was one. So shouldn't I have gone to Heaven? Even if I take the secular interpretation, don't only bad guys end up here? I'm pretty sure I'd been a good girl — most of the time anyway. Of course, human nature made being perfect all the time rather impossible, and I'd certainly done my share of sinning. But... but... this?? I don't think that anything I'd ever done had made me deserve this. Did some angel mess up? Or was it a bug in some kind of software? Did angels even use software to make these decisions? Leaving the 'why' aside, shouldn't Hell be hotter and more fiery, and shouldn't Satan be a guy? I pinched myself just to confirm I wasn't dreaming, and looked around the dilapidated, dirty room for the third time since I'd opened my eyes a minute ago. The twenty-by-thirty-foot space was dimly lit by a small window stained almost opaque by dust and grime. The looming figure of the Devil, about twice my height, was clunking away in front of a stove, puffs of smoke rhythmically emanating from her mouth as she dragged on a cigarette. I wretched again at the malodorous pile of dirty dishes, pots and pans that sat unwashed in the sink next to her, and the overflowing trash can beside it that contained a large mound of unidentifiable ooze whose composition I could only guess at. A lonely mattress, straight from a prison cell the way it was stained, filled the opposite corner of the room. All the furnishings, clearly sized for her, appeared intimidatingly large to me. What was most disturbing was a pile of reeking garbage bags that filled the last corner of the room. Topped with a pair of flies buzzing around angrily, its base spilled out to within inches of the mattress. My disgusting panorama was interrupted by a noxious wave of cigarette smoke reaching me. It made my head spin. I choked and coughed, nauseous and unable to breath. When the air had somewhat cleared a moment later, I drew a deep breath. All I inhaled was the putrid stench of the space. Though it wasn't exactly hot, the room was bordering on that, and the air was unpleasantly humid and warm. A trickle of sweat meandered down my face. Whatever I was wearing was definitely much thicker than necessary. Wait... I looked down at the lavender footed sleeper I was dressed in. This was NOT what I'd put on the morning I died. It was frayed but soft, and the cute design adorning the front had long faded. Somehow, whoever had redressed me for this place knew that I liked purple. I'd actually owned a similar outfit before I died, but mine had been less... cute? The similarity stopped right there as I noticed the straps that connected the butt of the sleeper, just below the end of the long zipper, to the heels of the feet. They didn't seem to serve any purpose besides preventing me from getting up onto my feet. Odder yet, my undergarments felt utterly foreign to me. I was flat-chested enough that I rarely wore a bra, so it didn't surprise me that I wasn't wearing one, but the pillow hugging my loins stuck out to me just as much as it spread my thighs apart. I poked experimentally at the thick padding, confirming that it was some sort of ultra-thick diaper — a word that still made me blush as it stirred memories of my bedwetting fiascos as a child. Thanks to the heat caused by the pillow of a diaper, my nether regions were even warmer than my other body parts, but this discomfort was nothing compared to the screaming alarm bells that my bladder was sending to my brain. Get to a toilet, now! In desperation, I cleared my dry throat and spoke for the first time since I'd died, "I eed oo you a waoom." My brain bugged at the disconnect as I heard my own words, blatantly incoherent. My hands quickly found the gag in my mouth. How on earth did I not notice this thing? I tried pulling it out and retrying my plea, and it suddenly expanded with a loud POP! My jaw felt like it was on fire as I cried out in pain! Satan swung around and I glimpsed her face for the first time. Her washed-out green eyes were partially covered by strands of her matted, unkempt, dirty blonde hair. She looked like she was about fifty-five, and the wrinkles on her face scrunched up into a frown so ugly that I shuddered. "Quiet, Christa!" She scolded in a crackling voice, turning back to whatever she was brewing. Who's Christa? I scanned the room once again quickly. There was definitely no one else here. Is Christa what they call Christians here? Does it mean— My bladder once again interrupted my thoughts with its tingling, and I tried to squeeze my legs together and press a hand between them to prolong peeing myself. The thickness of the diaper rendered both efforts futile, so I started frantically looking around for a toilet. I saw a weathered but imposingly tall door. A curtain on the opposing wall of the same giant size. The paint on the door had peeled and the curtain's designs had washed out years ago. Realizing that I had no other options since I couldn't even stand up, I whimpered as the floodgates opened and I wet myself. The Devil clearly didn't notice what had transpired, but I almost broke into tears as I pawed at the warm wetness between my legs, spreading its tendrils into the thirsty padding. I hadn't felt anything like this in years, and my memories of waking up in a cold, wet diaper as a little girl came flooding back. The pain in my jaw had dulled somewhat, but it still ached, and I rubbed it, choking back tears. In an attempt to distract myself from my distressing situation, I recalled the last moments of my life... "Mom, dad, are you guys ready to go?" I called out as I set the burglar alarm and locked the front door on my phone. "Yeah hon!" My dad shouted back from the car. I jogged over to the driver's seat, climbed in, and started the car. I put on some nice classical music, and started driving to the annual regional chess tournament. I was on-track to secure my third GM norm, which would promote me from an International Master to a Grandmaster, a title I'd spent the better half of my life trying to secure. 'GM Isabelle Green' would look perfect on my website, I noted to myself. As I drove down a winding road that hugged a rock face, I marvelled at the lake on the other side of the road. Its crystal-clear waters perfectly reflected the blue summer sky, on which a family of ducks were making a wide V-shaped wake. When I rounded a bend in the road, a large semi truck suddenly bore down on me from the opposite direction! The driver must have been either drunk or crazy, because it was driving dead-center on the two-lane road! I heard my mom shriek as I swerved quickly to the right, narrowly avoiding a deadly head-on collision. Just as I thought the incident was over, a front wheel cleared the narrow gravel shoulder and the steering wheel was wrenched from my grasp! The three of us joined into a collective scream, as the crystal-clear water loomed closer and closer. It was almost like everything was in slow motion, like I was watching an action movie. It must have been only a second or two from my driving off the edge to the impact of the water, but it felt like hours! People say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, but my mind was totally blank as the car slid silently below the depths. The slight thud as the car hit the bottom of the lake jolted me to my senses, and I quickly looked behind me to check on my parents. They appeared to have either fainted or been knocked unconscious by the collision with the surface of the water. I undid my seatbelt, twisted around, and struggled to free them as well. Once I got their arms free from the seatbelt, I pulled out the headrest of my seat and used the pointed end to smash open my side window, knowing that the doors wouldn't open yet due to the pressure difference. Unfortunately, I wasn't prepared for the ice-cold water that gushed through the window in torrents, smacking me in the face and freezing me into a stupor. Surrounded by a frenzy of air bubbles, I let out a cry, muffled by the water pouring into my lungs, and I began to drown! *** "Pull her now!" Dr. Torelli yelled, determination and a hint of desperation evident in her voice. Not wasting a millisecond more, I hit F6 to run the extraction script and watched as the localized portal leveraged quantum entanglement to swap the girl with a proportionate amount of fluid in the transfer tank. The process had been perfected by the legendary Dr. Bremer's protégé, Wilhelm Münch. After undergoing field trials by private-sector organizations like the Procurement Agency for Childlike Littles, it was now being used by the Dimensional Rescue Group of the United Nations' Interdimensional Commission to give people from the other dimension a life after their sudden deaths. Every second that I'd had to watch the livestream of the accident was pure torture, delivered in submillimeter-pixel holographic gory from the ceiling-mounted volumetric display projector. The holographic feed, stitched together in real-time by AI, showed the girl's vitals directly on her translucent body. The data and imagery were being captured by nanobots in the other dimension using a mix of lidar, x-ray, and millimeter-wave imaging, since we were working underwater. Cameras recording in the visible wavelengths at that depth would be blurry at best. We had a strict protocol to follow, so I was forced to wait until Dr. Torelli, the team's physician, affirmed that the girl couldn't possibly survive without some sort of miracle (that we'd pull off) before executing the extraction. I breathed a sigh of relief as the tank's indicators showed that she was still alive. This was definitely not the team's first extraction. As soon as the transfer subroutine finished executing and flashed the transfer tank green, the medics breached the tank's seal. In unison and with calm and skillful preparedness, they lifted the girl onto the waiting operating table. "DNA verification successful. Subject is twenty-five-year-old Isabelle Green, caucasian, height five-four, weight one-nineteen, pulse forty. Symptoms are water inhalation and cold shock." The extraction room's AI helpfully listed. I heard a hiss as one of the medics nasally delivered the nanites that would be used to clear the Little girl's lungs of fluid via an oxygen mask. Another medic quickly diapered her, not wanting a shock from the nanites to cause any more of a mess. I loaded a standard electrolysis program I had written for the nanites, wirelessly uploading it to them. "Clear! Activating!" When the holographic vitals floating above the operating table improved, everyone in the room visibly relaxed. I knew that nanites had yet again saved a life, electrolyzing the water in Isabelle's lungs into harmless oxygen and hydrogen gas. They had first formed a thin film around her alveoli, the parts of her lungs that oxygenated her blood, and then started the electrolysis process from there so that she could breathe. I shuddered as I remembered that the other dimension still stuck tubes into the lungs, often causing irreversible damage to the trachea and bronchi. Another swarm of nanites spread throughout her bloodstream, exothermically warming up her body to prevent hypothermia and treat the cold shock she'd experienced from the icy lake. "Good work people! Let's send her to recovery." I congratulated the team as I let go of Isabelle's hand, which had gone from cold and clammy to a comfortable room temperature in the span of just 10 minutes. They'd all done their jobs well, a quick glance at Isabelle's now strong and stable vitals confirmed. Inwardly, I regretted not being able to save her parents as well, but we had limited staffing, time and resources, so we couldn't save everyone. We always prioritized the young and healthy. And the girls. I shuddered at that last one. As a Canadian Dimensional Rescue Lead, I was proud of how well Littles were treated and how equal their rights were up here in Canada, at least when compared to our bigotted southern neighbors. Little weren't granted anywhere close to equal rights in countries like the United States of Acimera. Since the headquarters of UNIC were in the US and the majority of its directors were Acimeran, I knew just why the Little-owning Bigs down south had set those criteria in our guidelines. They were more adoptable. I looked over at Isabelle being wheeled out of the room. She was very cute. Very adoptable. "Thanks Mike, you know you're the best." Dr. Torelli patted my back. I nodded. I'd basically written the book on extractions. As one of the first DRLs, I'd helped set up the program and personally programmed a lot of the tech around me as a result. When you design the system, well, you tend to know everything inside out. And be the best. "You're not so bad yourself, Doc." The rest of the team followed the medics out of the room, and I was about to go with them, but something stopped me in my tracks. I... couldn't help but feel a pang of... emotion. For Isabelle. What was it? Pity? Guilt? Love? Whatever this is, it isn't something I've felt before. I sat down at my workstation again. "Where's her destination?" I asked the room's AI on a whim. "Ollirama, Jacinto". I shuddered again. That was down in the deep south, one of the worst places that a Little could end up in. I made a note to check up on her situation in a few days, and got up to join the others in the break room. Chapter 2 — Predator and Prey Satan walked over to me. Towering over me and looking down, she introduced herself. "You will call me Mommy, if and when I let you speak. You're in my house. You're nothing but a doll to me. I don't care what you want and you don't need ANYTHING. I own you, and you will do everything I say. Nod if you understand me." "HNNNN!" I shook my head violently. "CHRISTA! What did I just say? I said you will do EVERYTHING I say. And I mean EVERYTHING. I also said nod. So NOD!!!" Confusion in my eyes, I tilted my head at the reappearance of that name. Christa. "YOUR NAME IS CHRISTA," she explained menacingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "Goddammit you Littles are so STUPID! NOD. YOUR. HEAD. Or you'll regret it!" She threatened. I sat there, bewildered. My name was Isabelle. Not Christa. Where did she— With a cry of pure fury, she yanked me into the air by my wrists and began spanking the daylights out of me! I shook in fear and pain. Even though the diaper somewhat softened the blows, her massive hand made my bones feel like they were about to crack! "YOU." smack. "WILL." smack. "DO." smack. A swat punctuated every word. I started to cry, sobs muffled by the gag in my mouth. Pacifier, I realized. "EVERYTHING." smack. "I." smack. "TELL." smack. "YOU." smack. "TO!!!" smack smack smack smack smack smack smack. By the time she was done, I was a snivelling wreck, blubbering and nodding vigorously. Anything to get it to stop. Please! She unzipped the back of my sleeper, reached down into my wet diaper, and pushed something up my rear exit! "Let that be your first lesson. Now here's another one. This is what you are." She grabbed my face in her free hand and cruelly twisted it around, forcing me to look at the pile of garbage as she zipped my sleeper back up again. "GARBAGE. What are you?" She twisted the pacifier, deflating it. Not fully, just to its state before I pulled on it. It was still uncomfortable, but at least it wasn't agonizing. I sniffled, too scared to speak. "I asked you a QUESTION, little girl! What are you?! ANSWER ME!!!" "Guhage?" I whimpered around the pacifier. "That's right. Garbage." She dragged me over to the garbage can by the sink, lifted out the overflowing bag of garbage, and dumped me in the bin! I watched in horror as she slammed the lid closed on top of me, trapping me in the pitch-black plastic prison. Ears ringing and eyes completely blind, I panicked. To make matters worse, a rumble in my bowels confirmed that the worst was yet to come. I desperately pushed both hands against my rear exit to prevent the monster in my guts from escaping, but something told me that I wouldn't be able to stop it for long. I squirmed against the rigid side wall of the bin, trying to find a more comfortable position. It felt like at least an hour, but I probably only lasted at most five minutes before I gave in to the unrelenting pressure. I gasped as warm mush oozed out into the waiting padding, forming a large mass in the seat of the diaper that pressed against my skin. I felt the need to pee again, and, given that all hope was lost, just let loose. I'd been flung beyond the point of self-preservation. I felt the diaper expanding to soak up my stream of pee, surprised at the amount that it could hold without leaking. I shifted my weight, grimacing as the mess slid around in the seat of the diaper and some of it seeped toward the front. Disgusting. My knees hurt so much from kneeling on the hard plastic grid that formed the base of the garbage can that I had no choice but to awkwardly sit down. I shuddered as I squished the mass in the process. This was unbearably awful. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I sniffed reflexively, and immediately regretted the act. The stench of the mess I'd made had stunk up the confined space, and my mouth was blocked by the pacifier! This isn't Hell, is it?? I'm some cruel person's captive, in some kind of messed up torture chamber or something. How am I even alive? Didn't I drown after driving into the lake? Where were my parents? Were they able to escape? Is that why I'm being treated so scornfully? I had a million questions. The darkness and isolation gave me time to think, yet the unforgiving stench prevented coherent thought. I rubbed my jaw, glad that at least the pain from earlier was subsiding. The mass between my legs was cooling, and my skin was starting to itch and burn at the same time. I frustratedly thumped a fist against the side of the bin, which only served to make my ears start ringing again. Real smart, Izzy. Real smart. After what must have been an eternity, the lid was finally opened, and I blinked at the sudden burst of light as I was lifted out of the garbage can by the scruff of my sleeper. I hastily drew in a deep breath of fresh air, not knowing just how much I would be getting. The room definitely wasn't a rose garden, but it was still a million times better than the horrific reek of my used diaper! "Looks like the garbage left a pwesent for Mommy!" The woman exclaimed in a patronizing tone, squishing the crotch of the diaper and patting my butt. "Since you were a bad girl earlier you're not getting a change just yet. You need to get used to sitting in your poopy diapers!" "Hnnn!!" I whined. "Do you want to go back in the bin for another hour?" She threatened, shooting menacing daggers at me. I desperately shook my head, eyes widening in fear. "I thought so." She proceeded to unceremoniously deposit me on the floor with another quick grope of the diaper. Eager to get as far away from the garbage can as possible, but still prevented from getting up by the straps on my sleeper, I crawled desperately across the room toward the mattress. Before I could climb onto it, I heard a yell from the woman. "NO! Bad girl!" I jolted and let out a stream of pee in shock, resaturating the drying sludge in my diaper. "The bed is for Mommy only! You should be thankful I let you sleep on the floor, and not in the garbage can so I don't have to smell you!" I just about threw up at even the thought of going back into that hellhole. She shoved a quart-sized baby bottle of water into my hands before twisting and removing the pacifier in my mouth. "Drink up!" Since I was getting dehydrated and my mouth was dry, I started sucking thirstily at the tepid liquid, ignoring the infantile drinkware for the moment. She stared at me as I drank, and I saw a smile so ugly I wanted to bleach my eyes when I finished the bottle. *** Three days after I rescued Isabelle, it was just after lunch on Saturday and I was working on a side project. "Remember to check on Isabelle Green," Max, my AI assistant, helpfully reminded me of the note I'd made. Furrowing my brow, I took a moment to recollect the feelings I'd had for Isabelle. I'd finally managed to put a phrase to it. Fatherly love. This was the exact same BS that the Acimerans used to enslave Littles, but it was real for me. It'd better be. "Right. Go secure and bring up everything you can find on her on Workspace 3." I couldn't risk making a mistake and having anyone track what I was about to do back to me, so I got Max to 'go secure', which meant encrypting all my internet traffic with lattice-based encryption instead of ECC, and bouncing it off 5 different random servers around the world using Tor. Both ECC and RSA had been cracked years ago with the first Shor-capable quantum computers, but people were still using them. The one issue shared by all technological advancements was that they made people more and more oblivious to shortcomings in the everyday tech they take for granted. I watched the holograms around me morph from the new nanite routine I was working on to a bevy of video feeds, a terminal, and some additional data about Isabelle that Max had collected using the backdoors and privileged access to UNIC and other systems that I'd accrued over the years. Max had spotlighted a hologram of a dilapidated shack, with two figures inside labelled "Karen" and "Isabelle". "This is her current location, eh?" I asked, reading the coordinates floating above the model. "Precisely. Karen is the adoptive mother. Records indicate that her older sister, Kate, should have adopted Isabelle instead, but her untimely death the day before your rescue triggered an automatic transfer of custody," Max explained. "Interesting. Bring up Kate's data on Workspace 4 in the background. Split 3 and 4," I commanded with a twitch of my right ring finger and a wave of my arms, sweeping the existing holograms into a 180° field of view so Kate's data would have room to be displayed behind me. I stood up to get a better view, and the holograms rose with me. I spotlighted a different vidfeed, enlarging and repositioning it to the center of my field of view. Sitting on the floor in front of a mound of garbage was unquestionably Isabelle... in a heavily soiled diaper. The dark crescents on her footed sleeper were a definite telltale that she had leaked through her padding. Her blonde hair was matted with dirt and debris. Her baby-blue eyes, crusted with dried-out tears, stared blankly at something just below the camera. A trickle of drool ran down her chin from a corner of her pacified mouth. She looked... gone. I gagged at the state of her conditions. I'm getting her out of there. No human being should ever live like that. Certainly no one ever will on my watch. "Cross reference her symptoms on the medware with those of hypnosis." "Everything except the crusty eyes match. That and her cheeks are excessively flustered, and the optical intradermal scan is reading excessive heat levels there." He helpfully offered. "She's probably been crying, I know I would be if I was in her situation," I guessed. "That explains her crusty eyes, eh? The flustered cheeks... maybe some sort of hypnosis side effect? I'm no doctor though." I sat back down and spun around to face Workspace 4. From the data I could see so far, Karen was dirt poor and had a mean streak. Kate, on the other hand, was well-off, kind and gentle. She'd successfully adopted two Littles before and even sent one to college, something so rare it was almost unheard of! No wonder UNIC had preapproved her for adoptions. Unfortunately for Isabelle, Kate had been killed in a car accident. How ironic. "Report this to Jacinto LPS. Send them her details and the supporting evidence, but make sure you wipe the metadata, sources, and any other fingerprints first," I directed. Hopefully she'll be okay. With luck, maybe even the hypnosis could be dealt with. "LPS systems acknowledge receipt of your complaint. They can only deal with it some time next week though, they've got a backlog of requests," Max reported. "What?! Probably fake complaints from jealous Bigs." LPS was a major scam, but even the few times that it actually worked made it worth keeping around. Still, the system was very much flawed. I spotlighted the terminal window. "Gimme their API endpoint," I told Max. "You're not gonna hack into LPS are you?" Max asked. "You know messing with that stuff is a federal offense, right?" "So was every bit of info you've pulled for me today," I smirked. "Copy it." I pasted in the endpoint and ran some commands. When I saw the nmap summary, I knew I'd struck gold. RRH, or Reverse Routing Header, had several zero-day vulnerabilities in it that I could easily chain with some other exploits to hack into the LPS API. Exposing that port was a rookie mistake, but apparently LPS was too focused on other things to care about security. A few minutes of Python scripting later, I had what I was looking for. I quickly logged into the admin interface and flagged Isabelle's case as ultra-high priority. That got the wait time down to 0... business days?! Isabelle would have to stay with that horrible bitch until Monday. Oh the poor girl. I decided there and then that I'd help her all the way. I tagged a specific orphanage on her file, checked over everything, and logged out of the LPS system. "Clear workspaces 3 and 4. Wipe the evidence," I instructed Max. Hang in there, Isabelle. I'm gonna save you. =========================================================== Bonus content — a funny video about suppositories and anal temp: Chapter 3 — Change of Scenery About an hour after downing the bottle of water, I was picked up by the witch and placed on her lap. I was fed dinner from there, which quickly proved to be another traumatic experience as the jarred sludge she spooned me was so disgusting that I gagged and almost choked several times. I could think of some people who wouldn’t mind eating sardine-and-spam, but I certainly wasn’t one of them. The ordeal was exacerbated by the airplane noises she made, and the only result of her waving the spoon around like I was two was my face and the front of my sleeper being desecrated by all the food that missed my mouth. Shortly after, she ate her own dinner and washed up. Having been fed what was equivalent to pig slop to me, the delicious bowl of instant noodles she had the privilege to enjoy was pure torment for me to watch and smell. When the sky outside the small window turned dark, she sprawled out on the tattered mattress. “Good night doll, don’t get bitten by the roaches!” I shivered in trepidation. From the state of the place, that wasn’t exactly this dimension’s version of “Don’t let the bed bugs bite” that they just told kids here. My dirtied face and diaper felt like prime targets, especially since the latter was now massively swollen from multiple additional wettings. I did my best to clean off my face with the sleeve of my sleeper, but I couldn’t do anything about my diaper. I groaned about that as I felt my butt complaining about the combination of the spanking I’d received earlier and the mess coating my butt. I definitely had a diaper rash from the prolonged confinement in the soiled garment, which was sure to get worse by tomorrow. I can’t believe this is happening. I had the habit of always saying a nightly prayer, so I decided that there’d be no harm in praying here, especially given my current situation. Dear God, I know I haven’t been perfect, but I don’t know what I did to deserve this hellhole. Why am I here? Where even is here? I know that you love me and that you know what you’re doing, so I won’t complain… But please, please save me from this degrading place and this sadistic woman. And please, someday, let me have another game of chess and a life beyond someone’s doll. I know you gave me this gift for a reason. Please don’t let me waste it. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me all my life. In Jesus’s name I pray, Amen. I started to cry again, frustrated at how bad my situation had turned out. In the end, I drifted off on the hard floor, curled up into a ball as best I could. The next morning I rubbed my eyes as I sat up, my body hurting all over. I’d slept surprisingly well given the circumstances, but I figured it was mainly because of how tired I was. I looked down at my diaper, which — I could tell from the dark spots on both sides of my sleeper’s crotch — had definitely leaked. I suddenly realized that I’d been unconsciously sucking on the pacifier that was still in my mouth. It was strangely comforting, but I made myself stop. I’m not a baby. I tried spitting it out, but the bulb was too inflated, and I didn’t dare tamper with it any further. I definitely didn’t want to risk the painful inflation from yesterday repeating itself. The woman was already up, and sitting on her bed reading some sort of instruction manual from a paper-thin tablet. Just then, she looked up and caught me staring at her. “Morning doll! You’re gunna make me some money today!” She exclaimed. I frowned apprehensively at that, not quite sure what to expect. Whatever it was, it can’t be good for me. She deflated my pacifier with a twist, took it out, and handed me a large baby bottle of water. After I thirstily guzzled it, she reinserted the pacifier and inflated it with another twist. She then unboxed and set up a futuristic-looking semi-transparent screen on a stand about a meter in front of me. After pausing briefly to look at the manual again, she powered the device on and it beeped three times in rapid succession. A really bright light from the screen flashed, dazzling my eyes. A split second later, I saw some swirling colors on the tablet-like device, and a calming voice telling me something about using my diapers like a good girl. The next thing I knew, my mind went totally blank! When I emerged from a complete stupor, she was turning off the screen, and I was pushing last night’s mush into the back of my already full diaper! I frantically tried to stop it, but it seemed like my sphincter and related muscles were locked in the ‘open’ position. Not only did trying to clamp down hurt A LOT, I couldn’t dam the flow no matter what I did! “Good girl, using your diaper like you’re meant to!” The bitch cooed. “I think I might just change you earlier than I planned to, just so I won’t have as hard of a time washing your sleeper!” After making me sit in my mess for another half hour, she finally removed my sleeper and laid me down, buck-naked except for the diaper. She manhandled me as easily as one would a toddler, lifting both my legs with one hand just like I’d done when I’d babysat years ago. The relief of having the soiled and sodden diaper taken off me overcame any modesty I had, so I didn’t bother to try and cover anything up. She used the front of the diaper, which wasn’t much cleaner than the back, to wipe the worst of the mess off my butt. I was then dragged outside for the first time. As I walked, I could feel bits of runny poop that weren’t wiped off sliding down my legs. I need a shower to not feel disgusting at this point. Once my eyes had adjusted for the bright sunlight that starkly contrasted the dim room I’d gotten used to, I took in the vast landscape around me. Dense, yellowed, prairie grassland stretched unbroken in every direction for as far as I could see. Singular, stubby trees and small shrubs dotted the landscape here and there, and some cattle roamed in the distance. Besides that herd, this place looks like it’s devoid of humanity! I yelped from behind the pacifier as a jet of lukewarm water blasted my butt. The woman blasted my butt thoroughly, then moved on to my back and legs, as if I was a farm animal. When she spun me around to face her, I appreciated for the first time just how tall the shack she lived in was. A monster-truck-sized pickup truck was parked beside it, and both were at least twice the height of what they were supposed to be. I wonder how she got all this stuff in her size… When the woman finished hosing me down, she dried me off with a towel. I tried to protest that I could dry and dress myself to stop the uncomfortably intimate touching. She either didn’t understand me with the pacifier in the way or just didn’t care, so I gave up and stood there as she dressed me. My new outfit consisted of a puke-green sundress. Perhaps it was once a more pleasant color, but its current appearance just reminded me of vomit. I was just starting to feel self-conscious about not wearing any underwear underneath the dress, something I never did, when she dragged me back into the shack and laid me on the floor. She put some cream on my butt, which soothed the discomfort from my rash, followed by another massive diaper. Why are these diapers so huge?? As if ironically reading my mind, she jeered, “You’re only getting one change a day, at least for now. I’m not spending a single cent more on you than I have to!” Her voice boomed out in a pure cackle, in a manner only possible if she were a witch. This woman is deranged. Get me outta here! As a few more days passed, I lost track of time. The boredom was really getting to me, since there was nothing for me to do except sit around most of the time. I found myself sucking on the pacifier that was locked in my mouth more often than not, if not just for something to do. I also mentally studied some chess positions, but there’s only so much you can do in your head. My diapers were almost constantly filled with my bodily waste, and the bitch kept her word, changing me just once a day. I was grateful that at least she used the cream during each change, so my diaper rash hadn’t worsened. I began noticing that I had less and less control over my bladder and bowel functions each day, to the point where I now had very little warning before I went. I was truly using my diapers for their intended purposes, thanks to the hypnosis videos that the woman forced me to watch for God knew how long each morning. The second time that she’d turned on the screen, I’d tried to close my eyes and turn away, but she’d pinned my arms to my sides and kept my face pointed at the screen with her massive hands, preventing me from looking anywhere else. The bright flash had somehow worked even with my eyes closed, so I’d been utterly helpless. By the time she’d let go of me, the video had already turned me into a passive zombie, staring at the screen in a blissful stupor. One morning, I woke up to the door of the shack being flung open! “LPS! Hands on your head!” A gigantic officer, a full head taller than the bitch, screamed at her. Pistol trained on her, she swooped in swiftly, like an eagle hunting its prey. What was going on? Who were these other giants?? There were other giants here??? Another officer, slightly shorter than the first but still impossibly tall, grabbed me off the floor. I instinctively tensed up, unused to being picked up and held so far off the ground. “Dave to dispatch, Little secured, DNA scan verifies she is Isabelle Green,” he spoke calmly into an earpiece. “Karen Elizabeth Kemp, you are under arrest for child abuse under Section 1709 of Title 44 of the US Code. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. If you understand me, nod,” the female officer Mirandized. “You can’t ar—”, the witch started to say something. “NOD!!! YOU UNDERSTOOD WHAT I SAID PERFECTLY!!” The officer screamed at her, “HOW DARE YOU ABUSE SUCH A SWEET LITTLE GIRL LIKE THAT?!” I couldn’t help but grin at the irony of the turn of events, and I silently thanked God for answering my nightly prayers. “Are you mentally intact?” The officer holding me — Dave — asked. I nodded. “Mothly, I think?” I lisped around the pacifier. “Good, we’ll need to interview you when we get to the station. In the meantime, your diaper is leaking! We need to get you changed first.” He rummaged around the storage area behind the curtain for a spare diaper, and emerged triumphantly holding one. The female officer found a pack of wipes from their truck outside, and handed them to Dave, who laid me down, and untaped my soiled diaper. I blushed as he wiped me down, not used to a strange new pair of hands dancing all over my crotch area. I was also quite apprehensive, with his being a man and all. Thankfully, he was very professional apart from a little cooing, which turned into a grimace when he saw the rash on my butt. His colleague got some sort of ointment and spread it over the entire red area, explaining that it would quickly heal my rash, provided I wasn’t kept in messy diapers for extended periods of time again. Dave then taped the fresh diaper on me and found a clean dress for me to wear. The officers brought us out to waiting vehicles, and I blushed as Dave sat me in a toddler’s car seat and strapped me in. “It’s for your own safety, and it’s the law.” I nodded, still confused as to where exactly this place was. There were laws here…? During our drive to the police station, the witch screamed profanities at the officers until they grew tired of it. At that point, the biggest pacifier I’d ever seen was locked into her mouth. I giggled at the further irony and her discomfort. She deserved ten times worse. When we arrived at the LPS office, Dave released me from the car seat and picked me up again, holding me close to his chest. I’d played with the buckle a bit, but hadn’t been able to get it open. That made sense, given that the giants were clearly much stronger than my puny self. I gawped at the size of everything as we walked inside. More giants were bustling about, and it soon dawned on me that everyone in this place was a giant. I was carried over to a room full of medical equipment, and Karen was led away separately. Good riddance, bitch. Dave set me down on a scale, and a nurse weighed and measured me. I’d apparently shrunk quite a bit when I died, and I stood at a measly 5’4 compared to the 5’10 listed on my Drivers’ License. I’d also gotten just a bit lighter, coming in at 119 pounds. Or maybe they measured length differently in this place? I tensed as I was picked up again, still unused to being lifted into the air. Once I saw that it was Dave, I relaxed quite a bit. He’d been gentle enough so far, and I could see no reason for that to change. We walked down several hallways and up a flight of stairs, and I was glad that I was being carried for once. The stairs were massive! Finally, we reached a room with “Interview - Little” on the door that was more regular-sized. Large stuffed animals, toys, and cushions covered the small room’s floor in huge piles. Some of the bigger stuffed animals were almost twice my size! I didn’t see a particular spot to sit down anywhere, so when Dave set me down on the ground standing up, I plopped down on the lap of a massive stuffed bear and made myself comfortable. I was stroking its paw and looking around the room more when a smaller, Asian giant walked in and sat down on a bean bag chair. She was still about 3 feet taller than me, but at least she didn’t look like she could eat me for dessert! But that perception changed, and I recoiled, when I saw that she was holding a transparent tablet similar to the one that had been used to hypnotize me! Chapter 4 — Truth Can Hurt “Hi Isabelle, I’m Linda. We’re arranging a safe place for you to live. I promise it’ll be a million times better than Miss Kemp’s place!” She saw my eyes darting to her tablet, and I could tell she sensed my fear. She reassured me, “Don’t worry sweetie, this is just a regular tablet that I carry around. It won’t do anything to you, I promise!” I relaxed by a miniscule amount, not quite ready to trust her just yet. “I’m going to ask you a few quick questions, which will hopefully help us put her in jail for a long time. Are you ready to be a good little helper and answer some questions?” I pointed nervously at the pacifier in my mouth that had been my companion for the past few days. She smiled and quickly deflated and removed it, biting her lower lip as she did so. I ran my tongue over my teeth, happy to have the restricting pacifier out of my mouth. “You looked so cute sucking on it, it’s a shame that we have to take it out. I’ll give it right back to you as soon as we’re done, but we do need to hear your testimony.” She cooed. “Do you know what that big word means? Test-i-mon-y?” I bit my own lip to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her. Instead, I answered with a more civilized but curt, “Yes.” “My goodness, you’re not just a cute face! Now, if you could tell me eeeverything that happened while you were under Miss Kemp’s care for the record, it would help our case significantly. Whenever you’re ready.” I sighed, disinclined to go over everything again in my mind. “Umm don’t you need to start recording or something?” I hadn’t seen her do anything like that yet. “Oh my, what a big girl! The room’s wired up for sound, sweetie, everything you say will be recorded.” Over the course of the next hour, I told her, to the best of my ability, everything that had transpired in the past few days in graphic detail. When I finished giving my statement, Linda sighed and commented, “That sounds terrible, I’m sorry you went through that sweetie.” I nodded in agreement. “Though you can rest assured that we’ll put her away for a long time. I’ve got plenty of evidence now. It’s all very strong. The physical stuff we found at the scene along with some video footage an anonymous tipper sent us fully corroborates your testimony.” She said almost to herself. “Do you want anything before we transfer you? A baba maybe?” I scowled at her suggestion. Did she think I was retarded or something? “Something to drink and an explanation of what this place is and how I got here when I died, please? And why I’m dressed and being treated like I’m two?” “Sure thing honeybun. Here’s some apple juice for you; drink up while I explain everything to you,” Linda said as she brought me a giant sippy cup of it from a fridge sunk into a wall. I gave her a pointed look for her term of endearment, but started drinking. I was thirsty enough to not care about the drinkware, having had nothing all morning. The sippyness of the cup still begged the question of why I was being treated like a toddler though, and I stared at Linda expectantly. “Let’s start with your first question. The reason you didn’t die was because the United Nations beamed you here just before you were going to,” she explained. “We didn’t want you to die at such a young age, so when you were helplessly drowning to a certain death they used some very advanced technology to bring you here. Miss Kemp was then supposed to take care of you, but she didn’t do that very well, now did she? We got an anonymous tip and now you’re here.” “Where is here?” “Here is the Jacinto headquarters of the Little Protective Services. We investigate when Littles like you are abused, and save you.” “No, no. I meant what is this world? This…” Dimension. No. How could that have been possible? “A dimension quite similar to yours, but with some differences too,” she confirmed. “Have you heard of the portals and dimensions?” I gasped and peed in fright. I’d assumed that I wasn’t in the other dimension — well, this one — before since I hadn’t seen any other people, and I didn’t think they’d be able to instantly create a localized portal at the bottom of a lake. Just how advanced was their technology? “The dark-web rumors are true then? The tabloids weren’t making it up??” I’d heard a whole bunch of rumors about what netizens called the Diaper Dimension, where regular-sized adults were treated as babies by giant Amazons. Their tech was supposedly more than a decade ahead of ours, and their history remarkably similar yet with subtle changes. For instance, their United States were those of Acirema, instead of America. “What rumors?” Linda retorted with a rather blatant mock innocence. I brushed past her question. “Please just send me home,” I pleaded. “I’ve cooperated with you to the best of my ability, haven’t I?” “You have, but I can’t do that.” She asserted matter-of-factly. “Why not?” I whined, getting nervous again. “Why can’t I go home?” “Because you’re a Little in a big world. You’re going somewhere where you’ll be taken care of properly instead.” She condescended. My anger flared up. “What?! How can you let people be treated like this?!” I couldn’t reign in my rage anymore. She tilted her head at me and tsk-tsked. “How is this not a human rights viol—?!” She sighed and popped the pacifier back into my mouth, twisting it a half-turn before I could spit it out. It inflated painfully and I screamed! “Huck ooo!!!” Seeing nothing but red, I threw the now-empty sippy cup and a nearby stuffed animal — a red panda — at her and pounded my fists on the bear I was sitting on in frustration. Tears began to stream down my face as I heard the door to the room open and felt myself getting picked up from behind again. I didn’t know who it was and I didn’t care. I just wanted this stupid nightmare to end. My only response was a deep moan of despair. This was the worst day ever. I was carried over to another room and set down in a highchair. Straps were tightened over my waist, head and legs. The tray was fitted over my arms, rendering me completely immobile. I had burnt up all my energy in my outburst, so I sat motionlessly as my pacifier was removed, too tired to care. Having eaten nothing but gruel at Karen’s place, I was thankful for the more normal continental breakfast that I was fed. Even when it was mutilated and spooned to me. Even when I rolled my eyes at the silly airplane and train noises and gestures. My brain will turn into freaking mush if this is kept up. Halfway through breakfast, I turned red as I grunted and pooped with less than two seconds of warning. I wonder if I’ll ever regain control? Thankfully, the feeding stopped to let me finish. “You won’t leak just yet, but I’ll change you as soon as we finish brunch!” I heard after the crotch of my diaper was squeezed by a large hand. When I finished the last bite of hash brown, the straps were undone and I was picked up. I was praised for being a “good girl” through breakfast and carried, eyes and nose red, over to a nearby changing table. I was laid down on it with a strap pulled across my stomach, securing me to the table. A strangely calming nursery rhyme that I’d never heard of was sung to me while my soiled diaper was removed and thrown out. And I was wiped down. And a new diaper was taped on me. Then I was “all clean”, tickled, made to giggle involuntarily, and given a different pacifier to suck on. There was something different about this pacifier, yet I couldn’t put my finger on it. I figured it out a moment later. It didn’t have a locking mechanism. I sucked on it, having grown fond of the comforting motion. Maybe it’ll calm me down. A short walk later, I was set down in a mesh-walled enclosure with a firm foam padding for the base. A playpen. Seriously? I looked around in a full circle and spotted the giant bear I was sitting on earlier directly behind me. I walked over and collapsed onto its lap. So soft. So comfy. So... sleepy… I decided that there was nothing to lose after everything that happened. I passed out cuddling the big bear’s paw. I woke up to the sound of a car door shutting. I yawned, rubbed my eyes with my fists, and blinked, then jolted when I realized I wasn’t where I fell asleep. Instead, I was back in the car seat that brought me to the police station earlier. Dave was driving, and there was no one else in the car. Since he’d been rather nice compared to the other giants, and I’d lost the pacifier, I asked him where we were going. “To an orphanage ‘bout a 10-mile drive away. It’s not the usual one we take our charges to, there was a note on your file. You’ll still be safe, lass. And I’m sorry that Karen was a terrible person.” “Why an orphanage? Can’t you just take me home?” I begged. “I’m sorry lass, I can’t do that without losing my job and probably getting charged with neglect too. Even if I could, there’s no way they’re letting you go back. You’ve got no documentation proving you were from there, and they don’t just let random Littles through the portals.” He looked at me empathetically through the rear-view mirror. “What about through a localized portal like the one that brought me here?” “As far as I know that’s a one-way thing. I remember something about there being no transfer tank in your dimension, or something along those lines. The exact details are beyond my understanding.” I desperately wanted him to be lying, but the psych minor I’d done in university told me he probably wasn’t. There was simply no gain for him in doing it, and he didn’t seem like a sadist either. I sighed. I spent the remainder of the drive staring out the window at the prairie landscape on either side of the highway. Occasionally we passed digital billboards that displayed all sorts of strange brands I’d never heard of before. One of them, Melon Corp, was advertising its latest laptop as we drove past it in a blur. I was startled by the sound of a woman whispering in my ear. “One century since we made our first computer, we now offer the MelOne. One exaflop of raw power. One exabyte of PCIE-7 storage. One hundred terabytes of RAM. Preorder online or at any Melon Corp certified retailer.” My mouth fell open in shock. This was insane! We had just worked out how to mass-produce nanosheet technology after years of setbacks. The amount of processing power they had on just one chip was incredible! Wait a minute, how did they deliver that ad? Dave saw my agape mouth and explained, “The voice you heard was from the billboard. It’s a new micrometer-wave technique for subcranial audio injection called inSAIn. Congress is having a tough time with it, because nobody knows what the long-term effects are and the ethics of it are muddied by the trillions that the corporations involved put in. Most billboards at least have a legal age setting on, so Little and child brains don’t just get scrambled by the ads, but I guess that one didn’t.” Soon, we took an exit off the highway. A short local drive later, we pulled into the parking lot of an orphanage with a big sign advertising its name, “Little Hearts”. I watched as Dave got out and spoke with the receptionist inside. A minute later, he returned and looked at me oddly when he reached over to unbuckle my seat straps and found them undone. I’d finally figured out how to undo the buckle over the long drive. It was a complicated depress-twist-slide sequence that required the use of both of my hands. The mechanism had clearly been designed with great effort to be ‘Little’-proof. Dave picked me up, closed the car door, and carried me over to the reception. When he bent down to set me down, I held on tightly to him and whined, not wanting to leave the nicest person I’d seen in this dimension so far for an orphanage. He sighed and picked me up again, bouncing me lightly once. I yelped softly at the momentary weightlessness. He brought me to his eye level and coaxed calmly. “Look lass, you’ve gotta go. There’s nothing I could’ve done for you and there’s nothing I can do for you now. Believe me, if there was something I could’ve done I’d’ve done it a long time ago. The only thing I can offer you is some advice: do your best to act as babyish as you can. It will one hundred percent make your life more tolerable.” I nodded. That wasn’t surprising, given the amount of weirdness in this dimension. He kissed my forehead gently, before passing me over to the receptionist, who brought me inside immediately. I was just starting to feel sad about Dave leaving, when the receptionist — her badge said Claire — carried me over to an alcove beside a strange glass enclosure. There, she removed the sleeper I’d gone to sleep in last night, and opened a panel on the contraption. She had me climb in and stand barefooted and gently placed my hands flush against opposite glass walls of the contraption. Ordering me to stay still, she closed the panel again. A second later, I was blinded by a familiar flash of bright white light from all four glass panels, and I peed myself instinctively! Chapter 5 — Life Is Like a Game of Chess The swirling colors that I dreaded but fully expected never came. Instead, Claire removed me from the device after glancing at something on her semi-transparent monitor. As she ruffled my hair and smiled at me, I saw the piercingly-high definition 3D-scan of my body that she had open on her screen. Enlarged images of my hand- and foot-prints and my irises floated in front of the main model. So that was what the bright light was. An iris scan. “Oh dear, you’re about to leak! Let’s get you changed.” She gingerly carried me naked but for my sagging diaper over to a changing table in the adjacent room, not bothering with my sleeper. She removed the wet diaper, wiped me down, and taped a fresh one on me. It was bright pink and adorned with white unicorns, and I frowned at how silly it made me look. Pink is NOT my color. Seeing my long face, she tickled me, causing me to smile and giggle involuntarily. Before I could regain my composure, she had me sitting up with my legs dangling over the edge of the changing table. A bright summer dress was pulled over my head, turning my vision into a sea of pastel yellow for a moment. When my head popped out the top, Claire swept my hair back with a matching yellow hairband, which came topped with a baby-blue bow. She stood me on the ground, gave me a pacifier that matched my outfit’s color scheme, and led me over to an adjacent mirror. When I saw her, I gasped at how cute the innocent, foreign toddler staring back at me looked. I hated being relegated to a toddler, but I was starting to not mind the adorable clothes so much. If only the stupid unicorn diaper didn’t peak out from under my dress. I tugged the hem down with both hands, but it rode back up the second I did anything other than stand perfectly still. “Well aren’t you cute!” She asked, beaming at my reflection. I couldn’t help but smile and nod. She led me to the main room of the orphanage, which was almost three-quarters the size of a soccer field, and patted my butt, motioning for me to join the other fifty or so people running around boisterously. There was a mix of teenage and adult Littles alongside Amazon toddlers. I didn’t want to just start running laps, but I didn’t exactly want to sit around in the middle of the room where I could get trampled over either. Just as I was trying to decide on what to do, an Amazon toddler bumped into me. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, but he was a good head taller than me, and stockier too! Without any warning, I found myself bent over his knee!! “Bad baby watch where goin!” He yelled at me, spit flying everywhere as he fervently rained down smacks. Even with a diaper on to cushion the blows, the rascal put unbelievable power into the spanking, and my butt soon felt like it was on fire! I was starting to break into tears when a nanny came over and pulled a kicking and screaming me off him. “James, we don’t hit people.” She chided him, steadying me on my feet. The toddler nodded and ran back to join whatever game he was playing before the ordeal. I could hardly believe it! I was about to protest the fact that the scoundrel had gotten off without even an apology, but the nanny, having given me the cursoriest of examinations, was already walking away. I didn’t want to put on any more of a show for the dozen pairs of eyes now on me, so I just sniffled, straightened out my dress, and sulked away. So this was the social hierarchy here. Littles at the bottom of the ladder. No, not even on it really. I spotted a group of Littles lying prone on the ground in a far corner of the massive room. Some of them had feet swinging in the air, and they all looked pretty intently focused on whatever was in front of them. I trudged my way along the edges of the room to see what they were up to. Halfway there, I stopped to pee and rub my sore behind. When I got closer, I saw their hands dancing over the pages of newspaper-sized coloring books. Giant crayons in fists, they definitely looked focused on what they were doing, but it seemed like none of them were staying within the lines. I was confused about this for a moment, before I remembered Dave’s advice and understood what was at play. Act babyish. Well, the spanking delivered by a toddler certainly helped to that end! I sat down beside them and yelped as my butt touched the carpet. Flipping over onto my stomach, I gingerly rubbed my rear end. The little rascal’s blows had really hurt! A Little that looked like he was in his thirties gave me a sympathetic look and put a spare coloring book and a red crayon in front of me. “Best to stay away from the Big children,” he warned. I nodded and smiled weakly, before turning my attention to the items in front of me. The oversized crayon reminded me of a giant Crayola I’d once seen a GM comically using at a tournament to record moves on his score sheet. At that time, I never thought I’d see another one being used, much less use one myself to color. Oh how things have changed. I shook my head at the absurdity of my situation and absent-mindedly flipped through the ten pages of the booklet. Each side had an outline of a different marine animal to color. I copied the others and randomly scribbled on the first page, essentially ignoring the printed black lines that outlined a seahorse. Halfway through the page, I sensed a pair of eyes boring into my back. “Nice to see a smart new face,” a young man about my age, dressed in a playsuit just as colorful as my dress, acknowledged quietly. “Isabelle, but everyone calls me Izzy.” I held out my hand and he grasped it in a quick but firm handshake. “Mark. Don’t look around and don’t stop coloring, or you’ll provoke one of the nannies into investigating,” he warned. I nodded and got back to it. “Why do you say I’m smart? I literally just got spanked by a toddler.” “I saw. That was just bad luck, not stupidity. I can tell you’re smart because you know to only make abstract art. So, what brought you here?” I looked at him for a moment to gauge just how much I should say before answering. “Well… you probably won’t believe this, but I was driving down a mountain road when a semi came head-on at me. I swerved and drove off a cliff into a lake. The UN sisterly beamed me to this dimension, because next thing I know I’m stuck as some woman’s doll. Good thing some agency called LPS put a stop to that, and now I’m here.” “So you’re a humanitarian portal Little.” “Uhh… sure? You could call it that. What about yourself?” “Parents got adopted and my job didn’t pay enough… I ended up not being able to afford rent, and I got picked up and delivered here the day after my eviction,” he recounted sadly. “Your parents were adopted?” He gave me an ‘Are you a Martian?’ look and explained, “I think Littles might be safer up north, but ’round these parts a Big can just grab you off the street and adopt you. It’s like kidnapping, except it’s legal and you can’t do squat about it.” “Yikes. I’m sorry about your parents.” I thought back to mine. They were probably still at the bottom of the lake. Burial at sea. “At least they’re not dead though,” I added half-jokingly. “Aye, but they might just wish they were,” he mused. “You any good at chess? I ask every new arrival, but so far nobody knows how to play. Not exactly the most popular game among Littles.” “Ooh I play quite often. It’s really popular back in my dimension.” “Shall we have a game then?” “Sure, you have a chess set around here?” I asked, looking around. Mark laughed. “No. Have you ever played blindfold chess?” “Sometimes. I did a sans-voir simul once when I was in college, for charity. I’m assuming you use the same terminology as we do?” “Guess we’ll find out. You can go first.” I nodded. “E4.” “E5,” he countered. “Knight F3.” “Knight to C6.” “Bishop B5.” “The Segura,” Mark remarked. “The what?” I’d never heard of that word. “The name of this opening. We call it the Segura, after the 16th-century Spanish priest?” “Ohh, we call it the Ruy Lopez. And I have no idea who Lopez was. Might be the same guy?” “Might be,” he echoed. “Knight F6.” “Berlin defense. What’s your name for it?” I asked, starting a mental dictionary. “Um, we don’t have one.” He stopped coloring for a moment to look at me. “You don’t have names for variations of openings? We have whole wiki pages on these!” I felt the briefest of urges before I wet my diaper. “Nope. It’s never been that popular of a game, so naturally it’s not studied as much as more mainstream games like Go.” “Wow. Bishop takes on c6.” “b takes c6.” “d4.” “c5.” “You blundered.” I smirked as I ‘finished’ the seahorse and started murdering the dolphin on the next page. “How?” Mark asked quizzically. “d takes e5.” “Knight takes e4.” “Queen d5.” “You weren’t kidding! You’ve gotta be one of the best players I’ve ever faced, and I’ve played thousands of games. You’re incredible!” He looked at me in awe. “Knight takes on f2, which piece are you gonna take?” “Knight g5. Both. Or you can give up your queen.” I smirked. “My… God. I resign. You’re too good.” “Good game!” I smiled. “I’ll give you rook odds if you wanna play another?” “Sure, although something tells me you’ll still beat me. What’s your rating? I’ve won against players rated over two thousand!” “My elo is twenty-five oh one. I was supposed to get my third and final GM norm.” “You’re a Master? Daaamn.” Mark quickly bit his lip and looked around nervously, and only relaxed when he confirmed his slip-up went unnoticed. We played another two games, both of which I won easily, even with rook odds. Mark then called it a day, claiming he was tired of thinking, although I suspected that he was actually tired of losing. I was starting to feel physical exhaustion creep in though, so I didn’t object. As an afterthought, I wanted to confirm something with Mark. “This dimension also has twenty-four hours in a day, right?” He gave me the ‘Martian?’ look again. “There’s thirty-two hours in a day here. Were there only twenty-four in your dimension?” “Yeah, no wonder I’m feeling so tired. What about the other units? You have sixty minutes in an hour?” “Yep.” “Sixty seconds in a minute?” “Yep.” “A thousand milliseconds in a second?” He laughed. “I dunno. Probably? You also have seven days in a week and fifty-two weeks in a year, right?” I nodded as a nanny came over and handed out bottles of juice from a tray. I thanked her politely when I got mine. No need to make enemies with the only ‘adults’ here. After another hour or so of coloring, the nannies began herding all the Littles into the adjacent dining hall. It turned out that this place was both an orphanage and a daycare, and almost all the Amazon kids had been picked up by then. On my way into the dining hall, a nanny grabbed me for a diaper check, making me blush. Probably never getting used to that. Seeing that it was wet, she grabbed me and changed it, and several others received the same service. I sat across from Mark on a picnic table sized for us for dinner. The meal consisted of some mashed potatoes, peas and jumbo chicken nuggets shaped like little animals, all served on a plastic plate. The potatoes were bland and the nuggets were soggy, but the food still tasted ten times better than the goop Karen fed me. The peas in this dimension were the size of small hazelnuts! Luckily for me, I loved peas, so I devoured everything on my plate. Unfortunately for her, the Little beside me seemed to have lost her appetite, and she pushed her peas around on her plate without eating anything. A nanny quickly spotted her dawdling, and honed in like a falcon on its prey. She yanked the Little out of her seat, flipped her dress up, and started spanking the living daylights out of her! After about thirty smacks, the sobbing girl was taken to a highchair nearby and straps were pulled across her forehead, chest, waist and legs, rendering her totally immobile. Her wails were silenced by a nanny feeding her a jar of what looked like the peas she was playing with, mashed up. I felt so bad for the poor girl, but it wasn’t like I could do anything for her. I looked at Mark, who wore the same grim expression on his face as I did. After dinner, everyone took turns being showered by the nannies, an experience that turned my face into a tomato again. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to other people seeing me naked. We were soon dressed in footed pajamas and thick nighttime diapers for bed. Giant cribs were unfolded in the main room by the nannies, who then laid mattresses on top of them. I was tucked in with a kiss and a bottle of milk, which I took a tentative suck at. It tasted like a vanilla milkshake, and was definitely the best-tasting drink I’d ever had! The soft mattress that cushioned me was a fluffy cloud compared to the unyielding floor that I had slept on in the days before. I said a quick prayer of gratitude, and soon after, thanks to the strange milk and the comfy mattress, I was out like a light! As a bevy of thirty-two-hour days passed by, I settled into a routine that consisted, for the most part, of eating, sleeping, playing, and avoiding the Amazon toddlers. It felt like I was thrown back into a second childhood, and I was somewhat grateful for the opportunity for a bit of R&R. My busy life juggling my chess and programming careers didn’t give me much time to just waste away, something I was essentially forced to do here each day. Mark had gradually introduced me to the other Littles who had been coloring when I’d arrived, and they seemed like a nice bunch. Other than the boredom and lack of freedom to go places, I was pretty happy, since I had food, friends, and a bed — well, crib. Even though I was babied all the time, I wasn’t being abused. I might have even secretly liked that a bit, not that I would admit it! All things considered, the orphanage was a million times better than Karen’s shack. My mental chess games with Mark were icing on the cake, and I gradually taught him some more advanced chess theory while we colored each day. He was a fast learner, and improved quickly. I was still able to consistently beat him though. One time, as I checkmated him after a windmill attack, he looked at me and tilted his head. “You know, life is a lot like a game of chess,” he mused. “You plan things, but they don’t go your way. You get pulled into a series of forced moves, and there’s nothing you can do but to go along with it until you get a chance to counterattack or you lose.” “Yeah, that sounds about right. Maybe one day I’ll get a chance to counterattack and change the system. Win the game.” I longed. “You know what Izzy? I hope you do. You’re smart, talented, and kind. There’s nobody better to change the world.” Every night, I prayed for another shot at living an actual life. You gave me so many talents for a reason. Please don’t let me waste away, God. Give me a chance. =========================================================== Bonus content — Izzy vs Mark chess game: https://lichess.org/study/YfxwmWUR Giant Crayola: https://shop.crayola.com/color-and-draw/giant-crayola-crayon-choose-your-color-52MEGA.html Chapter 6 — Extraction My prayers were finally answered around two weeks after I’d arrived at the orphanage. A loud bang came from the reception area, prompting the four nannies on duty to investigate. The Amazon kids didn’t seem to care though, and they continued running around. Most of the Littles didn’t notice either, with the exception of the few of us coloring. Suddenly, a vent cover in the wall beside me swung open and a Little dressed head-to-toe in a futuristic-looking black combat suit emerged from the ventilation shaft. A spool mechanism built into the suit attached to a black wire, which was pulled taut and disappeared into the shadows above. He scanned the room for a moment before spotting me and glancing down at a screen wrapped halfway around his forearm. “Isabelle Green?” I looked up from my prone coloring position and answered, “Hi?” He scanned my irises with a device in the wrist of his suit, which beeped and flashed green. “I’m going to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” he told me in a quiet but assertive voice while looking directly at me. “If you want, I can get you out of here. The staff won’t be affected by my distraction for too long, so you have thirty seconds to decide.” I inhaled sharply at the suddenness of his proposal. “Who are you? Why me out of everyone here?” “Don’t have the time to explain. Twenty seconds.” I looked at my friends for support. They were all nodding for me to go, even as several eyes sparkled with envy. “Your move, Izzy,” Mark said determinedly. “I think you should go. Go win the game. You can’t do that from here.” I nodded and gave him a quick hug goodbye. “I’ll miss you. And I’ll do everything I can to get you out too.” I stepped back and looked at everyone, “All of you.” I wiped a tear from my eye and exchanged hurried farewells with the few people that I could consider friends in this dimension. I felt guilt and sadness for leaving them, yet a rekindled hope about my future surged in my chest. I raised my hand to the group in a solemn salute, before nodding to my rescuer and stepping into the shaft. He shut the vent cover, and I watched through its slits as the others went back to coloring. I trusted them enough to be certain that no one would give us away. Maybe the nannies wouldn’t even notice that I was gone. There were almost sixty residents, and I’d done my best to keep to the shadows after the trauma I’d witnessed my first night there. “Get a good grip on me. It’s a long way up and you do not want to fall. I’d put a harness on you but we’ve got to move.” I nodded and clung tightly to him. He pressed a button on his harness and we rose into the ventilation system. On my way up, I couldn’t help but think back to my question. Why me? Was there someone looking out for me? *** “Clear workspaces 3 and 4. Wipe the evidence,” I instructed Max. It was the Saturday after I’d rescued Isabelle, and I’d just arranged for her to be sent to Little Hearts, one of the safest orphanages for Littles in Jacinto. In less than two seconds, all traces of my tampering with the LPS systems had been erased. “Shall I turn off secure mode?” Max asked helpfully. It’d taken me more than a month to customize Max from the latest open-source homeAI release. I’d written almost a hundred thousand lines of code and config files — with the help of an AI programmer — to do it, and the end result was spectacular. After testing everything, I hosted it on my own servers in my basement. It was much more sentient and intelligent than the open-source version, and it was perfectly tuned to my liking and needs. I’d named it Max, after the protagonist’s AI in Ready Player One, a novel from the other dimension that I had read in my teenage years. “Not yet. She’s safe, but not free. I want to set her free.” “What are you gonna do?” Max asked, confused. I’d never programmed complicated feelings like freedom into him. I didn’t think he’d need it. He knew what freedom was, of course, but he couldn’t feel it like he could the more basic emotions: happiness, sadness, fear. Someday I need to add more abstract feelings. Then I can file a massive pull-request to the homeAI project. I thought about the actions I planned on taking next. Is it worth all this risk, just for one Little? There’s millions of them. If I were asked this question on a game show, or if there was no risk to me, then I would immediately answer affirmatively. Unfortunately, this was real life, not a hypothetical. Actions had consequences here. I thought about it for a few minutes and took a sip of my coffee. I waited until I was absolutely sure before finally deciding. Yes. It IS worth it. They’re human beings. They deserve love and respect. They’re people. They deserve to be free. Sure there were risks to me if I were to do this, but those were negligible compared to a lifetime of forced babyhood that Littles are subject to. Every single one of them is worth the risk. With Isabelle specifically, I hoped that what I planned on doing would make up for all the trauma she’d been through. I sighed and answered Max, “You know how we just hacked the Empire? Now we’re gonna hack the Alliance.” I’d seen a few Star Wars movies from the other dimension and used some of it to train Max’s neural model. He finally connected the dots. “Well, the Railroad should be a piece of cake compared to LPS, eh?” Good boy. “Once we find them, yes. The decentralization will be a nightmare to deal with though.” The Little Railroad was an underground movement that freed Littles across the continental United States. They worked in regional cells smuggling Littles north to Canada or east to the Little Islands, where Littles were safe from adoption and free to live their lives. The situation in Canada was much better than the US, with adoption being illegal and equal rights for people of all heights. There were still some Little-specific laws, mostly concerning driving and other activities that might be dangerous for anyone short, but they were all for safety reasons. However, the one thing that Littles did have to worry about was Little hunters from the US that prowled the cities near the border. Given that two-thirds of the Canadian population lived within a hundred kilometers of the US border, that meant that Littles were in real danger of being kidnapped and smuggled across the border. The Little Railroad couldn’t really prevent this from happening, but they did try to rescue as many Littles as they could out of the US. Since their operations were so decentralized, there was no head of the Railroad that I could target. I had to change tactics and perform a breadth-first search instead. I spun up a quick script to scrape Mastodon, the predominant metaverse and social media platform in the dimension, for a list of known code words associated with the Railroad. My script would then process the raw data to extract a variety of metrics such as frequency, variation, emotion, and context. After five minutes of big-data analysis, I had a list of accounts likely run by affiliates or members of the Railroad, sorted from most to least promising. Back in college, I’d started an all-purpose rootkit-injection program to use when I needed access to systems that I would have a hard time accessing through official channels. I updated it regularly over the years with new exploits and patch-workarounds, and it now supported every operating system with more than a few thousand users. Since most people just used thin clients nowadays anyway, my program also worked for gateways running older, but still supported, versions of the popular cloud providers. I ran this program against the machine used by each target on my list, achieving a 70% pwn rate. After looking through the data of the first fifty users, I’d found out enough about their networks to locate the contact info of several Railroad cells. I chose three cells to serve as entry, relay, and exit nodes that roughly formed a line connecting Ollirama to the US border with British Columbia, and set about masterminding the operation. Decentralized computer networks could be trusted, but human ones couldn’t, so I would do all the planning myself. I marked up a few possible border crossings based on Railroad and Border Patrol data, the latter of which I had access to thanks to sysadmin credentials I’d acquired on the dark web a few years ago for another project. Just those weren’t enough to bypass the multi-factor authentication they had in place, but I had a digital carte-blanche to bypass the latest OAUTH protocol. There would be no room for error, and my ample arsenal of cyberweapons would keep my precision high. I dug up some more information on the cells, and a plan soon materialized. The first leg of the journey would be handled by an extraction team, who would break Isabelle out of the orphanage. Earlier that afternoon, I’d made sure to mark Isabelle’s LPS file for Little Hearts, one that I knew that treated Littles better and was easy to escape from, specifically to help with this part. The extraction team would immediately drive her west to the border with the adjacent state, which would hopefully get her out of Jacinto and its jurisdiction to ease her escape before her disappearance was even noticed. At the border, Isabelle would be transferred to the next cell, which was run by a sympathetical Big businessman who owned a limo company and used his fleet to drive Littles across the continental U.S. to where they needed to be. Bigs involved in the Railroad were limited in numbers, but critical to the network’s success from the data I’d gathered, as they could get around much more easily and safely than Mids and Littles could. Once I finished planning out the details for the final stretch, I contacted all three cells with their instructions. I gave each only the information that they needed, in order to maximize the security of the whole operation and thus Isabelle’s safety. I made sure to send the first cell a copy of her bodyprint, which I’d hacked from the orphanage. Surprisingly, none of them asked me who I was or where I got their information from. Decentralized meant a lot of need-to-know, and these people were used to not needing to know, which made my job easier. In all honesty, I was touched by their selflessness. There definitely weren’t a lot of people willing to put their own freedom on the line to help others find a better life. I seriously respected those that did. *** We reached the top of the ventilation shaft in just a few seconds, and I clambered up and into the horizontal duct running along the rear wall of the orphanage. The shaft was spacious, but not tall enough to stand up in, and I could see light coming from the end of the tunnel. My rescuer put a finger to his lips, tugged on the black wire, and pointed with 2 fingers to a bright opening at one end of the duct. I understood that as ‘keep quiet and crawl toward the light’, and proceeded to comply with his instructions. As I did so, my skirt flared up and I flashed my diaper. I blushed a deep crimson and pulled it back down. Thankfully he appeared to be too busy with the screen on his forearm to notice. When I reached the opening, I could see that the outer grill had been swung up and somehow fixed to the outside wall. It provided an anchor point for the black wire, which hung out down to a waiting car. The combat-suited Little had followed closely behind me, and I grabbed onto him again as he rappelled down the brick rear wall of the building. When my feet touched the ground, he pushed another button on his harness. I heard a quiet whirring sound as all the wire was quickly winched up, leaving no trace of our escape apart from the open grill. Fortunately, it seemed that my rescuer had thought of everything. He twisted a dial on his screen, and the grill quietly swung shut. My jaw dropped open and my inner geek screamed, ‘That was so cool!’ “It’s rapid-biodegrading electronics. In a couple hours it’ll all turn into dust and get blown away by the wind. We’ll be long gone by then anyhow.” I nodded, still in awe and slight disbelief that I was actually free. Just then, I saw an Amazon get out of the driver’s seat, and my heart jumped. He opened the rear door and grabbed my rescuer! I turned and fled in a panic. My socked feet pounded against the asphalt and my heart pounded from adrenalin as I ran in a straight line away from the monster. I’m getting kidnapped, not freed. This isn’t tag where I become ‘it’ when I get caught. If I’m caught, who knows what will happen to me! I didn’t make it ten meters before I was seized by a strong hand. I yelped. He lifted me into the air. He spun me around to face him. I tried whacking him to break free, but he held me at arm’s-length, pinning my arms down. I kicked uselessly at thin air and screamed hysterically. He sighed and pushed an inflatable pacifier into my mouth before quickly twisting to inflate it. My cries were quickly muffled as my jaw lit on fire! All I could do was look at him in sheer terror, distress and desperation. Chapter 7 — Silver Spoon “I’m sorry I had to do that,” the Amazon holding me at arm’s-length apologized, “but you’ve got to stop screaming if you want a chance to get away from here.” What was this guy up to?? “Owww…” this overinflated bulb is really hurting my jaw. I winced and moaned, slightly confused and more than slightly terrified. He could see that I was hurting. “If I remove that, promise me you’ll keep your voice down.” I nodded and stopped struggling, eager to get it out. He brought me closer to his chest and shifted my weight to one arm. The pacifier was deflated with a twist and a hiss of air. I quickly rubbed my jaw in relief. These damn things were so painful! “Who are you and what do you want?” I asked, perplexed, exasperated, exhausted… My feelings were so numerous and complex I couldn’t even put them into words. I gave up all resistance for the time being. Might as well conserve my energy. He’s strong enough to overpower me no matter what I do anyway. “I’m here to save you and I want to get out of the state before the cops show up.” “Save me?” I spat. “And then kidnap me to Mexico to spew babies or test drugs for some cartel drug lord?” Shivers wracked me as I remembered the stories that one of the Littles had told me about her time in Mexico before she was rescued in a federal drug raid. “No, Isabelle. I’d never do that. I’m with the Railroad. And we’re going west, not south.” How did he know my name? The Railroad? They were working together? There were Amazons that weren’t totally baby-crazy? I guess it does make sense though… It’s not like Littles are allowed to drive around here. Another Little had told me about how he almost got to one of the Little Islands thanks to the Little Railroad. Unfortunately for him, his counterfeit passport didn’t quite pass muster and he was detained at the port. Poor lad. But if this guy was with the railroad, then… he was one of the good guys? “He’s telling you the truth.” The Little reappeared beside us. My brain screamed for him to run while he could, but he clearly had no intention to do so. I was almost convinced, but I needed more assurance. “Where did he get all that high-tech military gear and training?” I questioned the Big. “I can’t tell you that.” “I’m not going anywhere with you until you do.” “Look, if you come with us I’ll tell you myself. I trust him with my life, and you should too,” my rescuer interceded. With a sigh, I conceded and let the Amazon put both of us into car seats in the back of his sedan. He closed the door, got back in the driver’s seat, and drove out into the street. “You owe me an explanation?” I turned and asked the Little. “You should know that the less we know about each other, the better. Never tell anyone who you are, where you came from, or where you’re going, unless they already know.” When he saw me nod, he continued, “As to where I got my equipment and training: I was a Hellcat.” “What’s a Hellcat?” I asked as we turned onto a main road. He tutted. “Enough questions. It won’t do either of us any good if I tell you more.” An hour later, the Amazon driver pulled off the highway we’d been driving on. As he got out of the car, I quickly undid the seat buckle, just to get some more practice at the complex task. That earned a wide-eyed stare from the Little. When the door beside me opened and the Big reached in to undo the buckle, he too sported a puzzled expression. “How did you do that?” He asked. “The buckle?” “Yeah, I’ve never met a Little who could undo it.” I snapped the straps closed again. “Push, twist, slide?” I demonstrated. The ex-Hellcat tried to reenact my movements, but his fingers slipped when he tried the twisting motion. “Interesting, we just have to push harder than you Littles can. That’ll come in handy for you though. If you ever need to escape in a jiffy, these buckles are standard for every device intended to restrain Littles.” “Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?” “To pass you on to another cell in the network who will get you where you need to go.” I nodded. “Thanks for rescuing me,” I said to both of them, as a strange, elongated vehicle pulled up behind their car. “Cheers,” the Big patted my shoulder as he picked me up, “this is what we do for our fellow human beings. Freedom is a right.” I was carried over to the strange vehicle whose falcon-wing door was open. He set me down on the carpeted floor inside. “Good luck,” the Big said. “Thanks,” I nodded and waved as he tapped the doorframe twice, as if he was signalling the driver to get going. Right on cue, the door shut pneumatically. A moment later, the vehicle started moving. It sounded like a Tesla from back home. There was no engine noise, only the muffled crunch of the wheels on the gravel of the highway’s shoulder. When ceiling lights lit up the interior, I gasped at my futuristic and luxurious surroundings. The entire body of the limousine was made of some sort of high-tech glass. What I’d assumed were lights illuminating had actually been the glass-like material of the roof and upper half of the side walls becoming transparent. I’d seen electrochromic tech before on airliners, but seeing it in such a large contiguity blew my mind. Just then, I realized that there was nothing underneath the windshield, and I could see right out the front of the limo! It was driving itself autonomously! I watched for a while as it accelerated to highway speed and turned my attention back to the interior furnishings. One long, white couch-bed stretched against one side of the spacious cabin from front to back, and curved there to form a loveseat against the back wall. The opposite wall had a strange looking cabinet recessed into it, with a variety of amenities behind transparent panels made of what looked like the same material as the limo body. I cringed when I saw that whoever had stocked the cabinet had graciously provided a stack of diapers for me. Just as I was wondering whether the limo had a TV screen, the entire side wall lit up. Wow, the glass was a screen too?? The logo of an AI reminiscent of a home or phone assistant back home sprung into animation with a bounce and a twirl. “Welcome, Isabelle, to the Luxuria Experience, I’m Luxuria,” a voice that sounded perfectly human annunciated. The tone could only be described as… luxurious? “Umm… hi. How do you know who I am?” I responded, slightly startled. I could feel my diaper warming. “I have some basic information on you that I received when your journey was created. Speaking of which, I wasn’t able to detect your privacy settings, so I’d like to go over them with you, as mandated by the International Data Protection Laws. First, would you like me to collect anonymous analytics from our interactions to improve my intent-parsing quality?” “Uhh… no thanks?” “Okay, I won’t use any analytics. Would you like me to connect to the internet for neural recognition? I can also remain entirely offline if you’d prefer.” Damn, this dimension’s privacy laws were just as amazing as their tech. Years ahead of us. “Offline please?” “Excellent choice, my voice recognition software is still state-of-the-art.” “Finally, would you like to enable holographic mode? I’d recommend it for an improved experience.” I thought about it for a second before replying. Holograms are cool. And harmless. Why not? “Sure,” I nodded. The limo body turned opaque again, and a bank of ‘lights’, which were really white pixels on the ceiling screen, lit up overhead. I watched with childlike fascination as the animated logo materialized out of the wallscreen and morphed into a humanoid-like body with flexible tubular arms that didn’t resemble anything I could think of. I couldn’t see where the projectors were, but it looked much more solid than I expected! When the avatar reached out with a hand, I shook it without thinking. Only after the act did I realize that I had just… touched light? “How is your projection solid? Isn’t it a hologram made of light?” “It is. The wave-particle duality of light allows photons in holograms to maintain a solid state under certain high-energy configurations, since photons are their own antiparticles,” Luxuria explained. “Interesting.” I didn’t know a lot about particle physics, but from what I did know, it was theoretically sound. We’d just never achieved a high enough energy density to do something like this on a scale larger than a few photons to reach any empirical confirmation. “My sensors predict that you’ll leak in about two minutes. Would you like a change?” I gave my padding a squish and disappointedly confirmed it. “I can do it myself,” I insisted indignantly, not wanting a hologram to… change me. Luxuria nodded and grabbed a diaper, powder and some wipes for me. I proceeded to flip my skirt up, untape my diaper, and wipe myself down. Halfway through, I looked up to the hologram’s eyes staring at me. “Umm… can you not?” “Sorry, but you do know that my projection is just that, right? The actual sensors and cameras are built into the vehicle’s interior.” The avatar picked up my dirty diaper and wipes. “Yeah but still,” I whined, skipping the powder and taping on a new diaper. Absolutely no need to degrade myself more than I already have. My parents had once told me that I’d taped my own diapers on as a toddler. I had a vague memory of it, but it was far too long ago for me to actually remember how I did it back then. The only thing I remember along those lines is having to wear stupid pull-up diapers at night. Instead, I based my taping on how the nannies had done it for me. It took a couple seconds of readjusting, but I got it done and ran a finger around the waistband to inspect my handiwork. Not bad for the first time in two decades. It’s definitely nicer when someone else does it for me though… Luxuria turned back around as I stood up and cleaned my hands with an extra wipe. “You did okay. Try to tape it on tighter so it doesn’t fall off when you wet it. And you should use the powder, it stops chafing and keeps your skin dry.” Okay?! Did I just get roasted by a robot? No, an AI. Har har. I stared at Luxuria. My stomach growled, interrupting my sulky thoughts. I was used to having dinner at the orphanage at 7 pm every day, and it was just past that according to the holographic clock. “Would you like something to eat? It’s just about dinnertime,” the AI noted, seemingly having either read my mind or detected my hunger. The time showed on the screen that made up an interior side wall of the limo, and the avatar gestured toward the strange cabinet. “Fine,” I replied, “are we going to stop somewhere for food?” Luxuria laughed, “No need to stop. The AmeniTea here is state-of-the-art; it can cook up anything you’d like. Wouldn’t you rather get to your destination sooner?” AmeniTea? I was confused, but I jogged over and found some drinkware. It looked like I would have to go with a milk-jug-sized mug, or a sippy cup that was my size. I sighed in defeat and grabbed one of the latter. I’d been drinking out of baby bottles and sippy cups the past few weeks, but it had never been my choice. I managed to convince myself that I didn’t really have a choice here either. I brought it over to a drink dispenser situated just above the level of the top of my head. I didn’t see any buttons or labels, but there was clearly a faucet on it. Probably detecting my confusion, Luxuria helpfully offered, “It’s a smart appliance. What would you like to drink?” “What options are there?” “It can make any drink you want, so long as it’s non-alcoholic, as mandated by the government under section 1012E of title 441 of the Little Statutes. The machine has miniaturized pods for several thousand different beverages. It unshrinks and dispenses every drink you can think of, and then some.” “Can I have an apple juice please?” I loved the apple juice they had here. Much richer in flavor than back home. “Sure, what temperature would you like it at?” Luxuria asked. “Uhh… I dunno, 50 degrees?” “Fahrenheit?” “Yeah, isn’t 50 celsius like, hot?” I questioned. Luxuria shrugged. “There’s people that like their juice hot. Put your sippy cup under the faucet.” I swear this AI is out to humiliate me. She just HAD to say the full baby term. I sighed and reached up — tipping my toes slightly — to do as she instructed. The second my hand left the cup, the room was flooded with the delightful aroma of apples and the cup filled with juice. I picked up the plastic vessel again — carefully since it was full — and took a sip. It was delicious! The aroma certainly helped, and I practically guzzled the rest of the cup. Luxuria refilled it for me, and turned the top half of the limo transparent so I could enjoy the splendid nature view on either side of the highway as I drank. I watched as the sun set, directly ahead of us, into mountains that I could just barely make out in the distance. It was the first sunset I’d seen in this dimension, and I was stunned by its beauty. The sun was much bigger, yet of softer tones, than back home, and the vivid colors streaked across the sky like a masterful watercolor painting. The moment was made even sweeter by my impending freedom that I could almost taste. I took a deep breath to savor the tranquility of everything. I’d come a long way from the dirty floor of a shack in the middle of nowhere. No matter where life brings me from here, this moment will be one that I’ll cherish for years to come. Chapter 8 — Exodus In the 10 minutes it took for the sun to set and the sky to turn dark, I’d gradually emptied my sippy cup and bladder. In one end and out the other. I heard an audible rumble from my stomach announcing the return of my dinner cravings. “So there’s miniaturized food as well?” I asked the hologram floating beside me. “The ingredients are miniaturized, yes, but each dish is made fresh. What would you like?” “Something spicy,” I answered without hesitation. Orphanage food had been filling but way too bland for my liking. I remembered a delicious burger recipe that my grandfather had often made for me when I was little. It would definitely make a good challenge for the robot cook. I went for it anyway, just to see what the machine was capable of. “Make me a burger with the buns buttered and toasted. Melt a slice of cheddar cheese on top of a beef patty, then add a slice of tomato, two half-rashers of bacon side-by-side, two slices of pickle side-by-side, two concentric onion rings, breaded and fried, and Buffalo sauce, in that order from bottom to top. Make a side of thick-cut sweet potato fries, topped with melted cheese and chipotle sauce. For dessert I’ll have mango sago pudding.” I was on a wishing spree! Take that, machine. There’s NO WAY you can make that. “You’re certain you can eat that much? Have you had any food not made for Littles since you got here?” I thought about Luxuria’s question for a moment. “Uhh… No, not really…” I finally put two and two together. If everything here is massive, then the food would be too. “Right, the size of the food. In that case, make the burger smaller and I’ll just have, say, 3 fries.” That I should be able to finish. I didn’t like wasting food. “Oh, and size the pudding down accordingly?” Luxuria nodded. “Will that be everything?” “Yup, thanks.” I confirmed, still confident that a machine would never be able to make a meal that complicated. Around twenty seconds later, the smell of the patty cooking started wafting from a glass panel on the AmeniTea. A table flipped out automatically from the opposing side wall, at just about the right height for me to sit and eat at, perched Japanese-style on the bed. Less than five minutes after I’d ordered, the panel slid open and revealed my dinner on a large porcelain plate. The avatar brought it over to the table as the AmeniTea panel slid shut again. “Bon appetit!” Luxuria beamed. I thanked her and clambered onto the bed with a small jump. After saying grace, I grabbed the burger with both hands and took a bite. It was the most delectable food I’d had in weeks! My first bite brought back a flood of childhood memories. I hadn’t had this meal in ages! I picked up a fry the size of a hot dog and brought it to my mouth. The sweet potato was fried to a golden crisp, but the size meant it was just slightly too mushy for my taste. The cheese melted a second time in my mouth, and my taste buds exploded satisfyingly from the spice of the Buffalo sauce. I may have been dubious of the robot’s capabilities, but by the time I finished the dish, I was convinced that the only downsides to it were the slightly off taste of unshrunken ingredients and something missing that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. When my plate was empty, Luxuria swapped it for my pudding, which also made for the perfect dessert for this experience. The food had tasted almost as good as my description sounded, and definitely better than “unshrunk meal” could ever sound! I was stuffed, but satisfied. After dinner, Luxuria put the pudding goblet into the AmeniTea, and the table sunk back into the wall. I heard a hiss and a light patter as both were cleaned… along with slightly more muted hiss coming from my diaper! A feeling of warmth spread through it. I’d just gone without any warning. “Would you like to see a movie?” the avatar offered, returning to its floating position facing me. “Sure. Anything sci-fi you can recommend?” I wanted to see what this dimension’s science fiction entertainment looked like, given that the world around me was basically sci-fi already. “I’ve got just the film.” I snuggled up to a soft cushion on the bed and watched as the screens delimiting the cabin lit up with billions of pixels blending together, each of which must have been too small for my eyes to register. Together, they seamlessly formed a realistic background of stars in space at a resolution that took my breath away. While I was somewhat prepared for that, I was definitely not expecting the Star-Wars-style scrolling text that was holographically projected in front of me. I let out a giggle of delight, both at the quality of the visuals, and at the absurdity of the retro style photobombing an otherwise incredibly futuristic setting. The movie was reminiscent of Interstellar, with realistic depictions of relativity and physics. If only more writers would depict science and technology more accurately. The single thing I hated the most about movies and books was the unrealistic depictions of hacking scenes. Hooded man furiously typing with green hieroglyphics and ones and zeros… The movie’s plot centered on the last human family searching the Milky Way for a habitable world. They teleported around the galaxy by folding the fabric of spacetime in a futuristic spacecraft. I never saw the twist coming, which was when the AI that helped the humans and kept them safe the whole time was actually hiding the habitable planet from them. I laughed out loud when it turned out to be caused by a bug in its code. You’d imagine their static analysis would have caught that. I looked worriedly at the avatar floating beside me, but Luxuria just shrugged. “I’m nothing close to a true AI, if that’s what you’re concerned about. There’s laws prohibiting military-grade machine intelligence.” The movie soon ended with the AI sacrificing itself for humanity’s greater good and the human family getting to the habitable planet safely with human embryos to settle the new world. It was a rather Disney-like cliche ending, but I liked movies that way. It sucks when a main character fails or dies. That’s what happens in life already, why make a movie or write a book about it? When the credits started rolling across the floor, up the side wall, and then back across the ceiling, I yawned and got up to stretch out my legs. I’d certainly had a long day. From an orphanage to a self-driving limo speeding across the country. I shook my head. It felt like I was living in a fantasy. A quick diaper change later, I was back on the massive bed hugging the cushion. Before I snoozed off, I said a quick nightly prayer. Dear God, Thanks for everything you do for me. I don’t know where exactly I’m heading, both in this limo and in life, but I know it’s to a good place you’ve prepared. Thanks for showing me once again that you care about me and love me. And thanks for sending these good people my way. Please keep all my friends safe too, and help me make the right moves. In Jesus’s name I pray, Amen. The next morning, I woke up to daylight and soft music. I blushed furiously when I found my thumb in my mouth. Must have been another stupid effect of that hypnosis. I’d never experienced this at the orphanage before, probably because I’d always been given a bottle or a pacifier to sleep with. I wiped the saliva off my thumb and rubbed my eyes as I sat up. All the cabin screens around me had been turned off, resulting in the glass body of the car being almost transparent. The scenery and asphalt sped by outside in an unnaturally fast blur that made my head hurt. “Morning Isabelle. Did you sleep well?” Luxuria greeted me as the limo body turned opaque again. “Morning. Yeah, I did, thanks. Umm… how fast are we going?” I asked in suspicion. “One-ten.” “Miles per hour?” “Yeah. There isn’t much autonomous traffic, and there’s good visibility, so the lanespeed is slightly higher than normal.” “Lanespeed? There’s a dedicated lane for self-driving vehicles with a dynamic speed limit?” “Indeed. Every autonomous vehicle is hooked up to Mothership, the central control system, so we can safely go faster than human-driven cars,” Luxuria explained. Mothership… Tesla? Is there even a Tesla in this dimension? “Is that also the reason I don’t have to be stuck in an annoying toddler car seat?” “Precisely. Speaking of toddlers, your diaper is at capacity again.” I could feel mush in the back this time, and I really didn’t want to change myself. I sighed and surrendered my last bit of perceived independence. To an AI. I looked away from the avatar, clasped my hands, and pawed at the floor with my foot. “Umm… Can you do it for me?” I asked Luxuria shyly. “Oh? I thought you did a pretty good job changing yourself before you slept?” The hologram floated gently into my field of view. Ugh. This thing is reeeeally annoying. I blushed. “Yeeaah, but there’s poop and I really don’t wanna do it,” I whined. Luxuria may have called me a “big baby” in jest at that point, but she grabbed the supplies necessary and gently untaped my diaper. The hologram’s zephyry movements were calming and efficient, and I soon had a fresh diaper taped on. The experience was so nice that I didn’t even complain when the avatar used the powder. When she was done changing me, I asked what time it was, just as we pulled onto an off-ramp and started to decelerate. “Eight fifty”, the time showed up on the screen again, this time in a light theme. I wonder if all IDEs have dark themes here. “We’re almost at our destination.” “Which is…?” “Sorry, I’ve been specifically instructed not to tell you. Can I get you some breakfast instead?” That was a little annoying of Luxuria, but I did understand the Railroad’s tangible concerns about disclosing information. “Milk and cereal?” “Sure, what kind of each would you like?” “Skim and Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Do you have that here?” “No, but we have something similar.” Luxuria went to the AmeniTea and fetched a pitcher of milk, a bowl and spoon, and a cute little cardboard box of cereal labelled ‘Cinna-Crisps’. I opened the box and the plastic cereal bag inside, and dumped all seven or eight pieces into the bowl. I grabbed one and ate it in two bites. It looked and tasted like an oversized version of a piece of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but each circular crisp was the size of an Oreo! I poured enough milk to cover all the pieces, said grace, and started eating. When I finished it, Luxuria put everything back into the AmeniTea, and informed me that we’d arrived at our destination, just as I felt the limo stop. The large falcon-wing door lifted up and I saw that we were in some sort of garage. There was a van parked a few feet away, but there was nothing around that betrayed our location. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your Luxuria Experience, Izzy” she said as her avatar floated over to me. I jumped down from the bed. “I did, thanks. It was pretty amazing actually, especially you and the whole solid hologram thing.” “Happy to hear that.” Luxuria produced a lapel pin from somewhere and pinned it to the hem of my dress. “Here’s a profile microchip containing your privacy preferences and some basic information. Keep it on you until you upload it to the international federated blockchain.” She also handed me a bag with three spare diapers in it. “And these should last until you get more.” I blushed as I took it from her. “Gee, thanks,” I nodded semi-sarcastically and gave Luxuria a parting handshake. As annoying as she was, she’d been a pretty great companion. When I turned around, a Latina Mid came over from the van. Mark had told me about Mids, also known as In-Betweeners or just Betweeners. The term applied to the comparatively rare instances where a person was taller than a Little but not quite a Big. They were clearly as rare as Mike had claimed they were, since this was only my second time seeing one. “Hola Isabella, I’m Sofia,” she said in a thick Mexican accent. I was about to correct her about my name, but she seemed like the type of person that didn’t like being told she was wrong, so I kept my thoughts to myself and went with a polite “hi” and a small wave instead. Seeing that I wasn’t wearing any shoes, she told me, “I will take you over so you don’t get your feet dirty, reinita,” and picked me up out of the limo. “Good luck Izzy, and safe travels,” Luxuria wished as the hologram fizzled out. Sofia carried me over to the van, and set me down in the back. Once she made sure I was comfortably sitting in the lap of a giant teddy bear, she handed me a pacifier. “Put that between your teeth so they don’t break.” She ordered in a dead-serious tone. I was a little confused and intimidated by that, but I complied. Sofia shut the back doors and got in the cab. There was a plastic panel separating the cab and the back, which had no windows, so I couldn’t see outside at all. There was some light coming from the gap between the back doors though, which didn’t quite touch each other when they were closed. I perked my ears up instead, and listened as she started the engine and pulled out of the garage. The van was magnitudes less soundproofed than the limo had been, so I could hear every surface that we drove on, from the clank of a metal drain covering to the smooth hum on asphalt. The van clearly didn’t have A/C, so I was starting to sweat a lot. About twenty minutes into the sweltering drive, Sofia yelled out “hold on mi amor!” to me and violently swerved off-road. I heard the coarse crunch of the gravel shoulder for a split second, and then the finer crunch of hard-packed dirt as the van shook and bounced over the uneven ground. The shaking and noise increased in severity as we picked up speed, and I was now glad I had the pacifier. Clearly Sofia hadn’t been joking about breaking my teeth, as my bones felt like they were being jostled out of their sockets! Suddenly, I heard a loud CRACK, and then the wailing of a siren nearby. Sofia swore but didn’t let off on the gas, and the siren slowly faded. I was starting to fear that the van would shake itself apart as I was flung into the air from a particularly deep rut. After a few more minutes and a couple turns, I felt the vibrations dampen out as she slowed to a stop. I unclenched my hands, extremely relieved to still be alive. Luckily the bear’s soft stuffing had protected me from the worst of the bumps, but my diaper got soaked from the bone-jarring ride! I felt the van shift as Sofia got out, and then bright light streamed in when Sofia threw the doors open, causing me to blink. She picked me up and carried me out of the van, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I trembled in fear and panic as I took in the landscape around me. It was an arid desert, being burned by a scorching sun. Small shrubs broke the sandy ground here and there, and stout mountains loomed nearby. I felt a trickle of pee down my leg as I flooded my diaper beyond its leaking point. That served as a painfully ironic symbol for everything that had gone wrong, for my chances of freedom and living a life had just leaked away. Sofia smiled and told me, “Bienvenido a Méhico!” Chapter 9 — True North Strong and Free I sobbed into my pacifier, too dumbfounded to struggle, utterly broken. Why had I been so stupid to trust these people?! When she heard my sobs and saw my tears, Sofia looked concerned and rubbed my back in an attempt to comfort me, but I was going into a full meltdown. “Ay hey Isabella! Calm down! You are safe, I was only ahh, what is de word, ahh, kidding, kidding! I was kidding! Cálmate, princesa, cálmate,” she soothed, hugging me tightly. “Yer wying! Dersh no dezherch in Canada!!” The stupid pacifier was distorting my speech, but it was doing is job of keeping me somewhat calmer than totally berserk. “Mi amor, we are in de Okanagan, in de south of de British Colombia. You are safe, reinita, I just helpet you cross de border!” Her Mexican accent got even thicker when she was stressed, and she looked like she was about to explode from anxiety. “Cwoss de bohduh indu Mexico?” “No no! Canada!” “Pwove it! I dun bewieve you!” Sofia sighed and pulled out a thin, flexible rectangle of plastic. She swiped a gesture on it and opened a maps app. I could see the position indicator indicating that we were just inside the border with Canada, and the background even showed the mountains and labeled the desert as the Okanagan. At this point, I relaxed enough to realize that the best proof I hadn’t been kidnapped to Mexico was right in front of me: Sofia wouldn’t be going through all this trouble to show me where we were when she could easily just overpower me. A few moments later, a black SUV pulled up beside us, and an eleven- or twelve-foot-tall Amazon got out. I’d seen enough giants at this point to not flinch, but I still stayed alert. He ran over to me and gave me a quick inspection, a massive hug, and a kiss on the forehead before I could even react. So much for staying alert. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Isabelle.” He turned to Sofia and shook her free hand. “Thanks for bringing Isabelle over the border. You people are the ultimate heroes.” “You are welcome, Señor. Protect her, the hunters are everywhere I hear.” Sofia passed me over to him, along with the satchel of spare diapers Luxuria had provided. “I will, absolutely.” “Freedom is a right!” She waved and turned around to get back in her van. That phrase again. “Hold on. Who are you and why am I going with you if I’m already in Canada?” I demanded. I was done with not knowing. From now on I’m finding out everything before I do anything. “You’re fifty klicks from the nearest town and less than one from the border. Acimeran border forces have been known to cross over to recapture escaped Littles, which is exactly what you are right now,” he reasoned. “All I’m gonna do is take you further into Canada so you don’t die in the wilderness or get sent back to an orphanage. Any objections?” “No,” I huffed. The Amazon walked the few paces over and laid me down in the back of the SUV. “Hey! What are you doing?!” I protested when he flipped my dress up. He stopped and calmly said, “you wanna sit in your leaky diaper?” “No,” I begrudgingly acknowledged. He proceeded to change me into a diaper from the bag of spares. I sighed, red-faced, when he finished and buckled me into a car seat in the back. So much for knowing everything. Things really weren’t under my control here. At least he was gentle and didn’t try anything. “Okay Izzy, I’m Mike.” He glanced at some kind of holographic heads-up display and started driving away from the border along a small dirt track. “The reason I didn’t tell you my name earlier is because I didn’t want anyone from the Railroad to know my identity. Just a safety precaution.” “How did you know I like to be called Izzy?” I asked suspiciously. “I run an automatic bug scan on everyone that comes near my property, which includes my car. You’re clean, but you’ve got a microchip on you with a bunch of your privacy preferences, which ironically includes your preferred name in conversation. Are you okay with me calling you that?” *** I really did scan her and find the chip, even though that wasn’t where I got her name from. I didn’t want to let on to any more than I needed to right now. She’ll have plenty of time to fully comprehend the magnitude of what I did for her. Or leave. That was a grim thought. I’d snuck a tracking chip with an integrated mic onto her dress the moment she was in my arms, just in case she was dumb enough to choose that option and ended up needing my help. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going to stop her from doing that though. “Yeah, you can call me whatever,” she replied as I turned onto a paved road. Deep breath, explain the situation. You got this. “Okay. I want you to know that everything I’m doing for you is to help you. If at any point you want to leave, tell me and I’ll stop the car and you can go wherever you’d like. Just please be careful. However, I recommend that you stay with me for the time being, for your own safety. Even though Canada is a million times better than the US for Little Rights, you’re unfortunately still in danger of being kidnapped by Little Hunters from the US. They WILL smuggle you back across the border and they WILL sell you to the highest bidder before you can say ‘True North Strong and Free’. Because of them, most Littles here actually choose to stay with a Big family or friend for safety’s sake. In fact, it’s so common that we have a name for it: homestay.” “Where are we going?” She asked as I took the on-ramp onto the highway to Penticton. It was a pretty big detour from our final destination, but I didn’t want to drive all the way to the west coast before Isabelle got her citizenship, just in case we got pulled over. “Well first we’re going to the Immigration and Refugee Board for your asylum hearing, where you’ll get registered and get your Canadian citizenship.” Boy did she want to know everything! I guess that’ll help her survive in this dimension, so it isn’t exactly a bad thing… Makes her about as annoying as a toddler though. “They hand out citizenships just like that?” She snapped her cute little fingers to punctuate her point. “To Littles who manage to get to Canada alive, yes. There’s a special clause in the Refugee Act from about twenty years ago.” “The US doesn’t care?” “They tried to stop them at first. When people protested and Canada caused a huge international scene with the first escaped Littles, the US struck a deal with us allowing Littles that cross the border to stay without persecution. In exchange, Canada still has the Safe Third Country Agreement for non-Little illegal immigrants, plus extradition.” “So I can be fully legal and everything?” Izzy’s face lit up in an adorable smile. “Yup, should be pretty much guaranteed.” I kept the other tricks I had up my sleeve to ensure that, including the fact that I’d sponsored her application, to myself. “What happens after that?” “We can stop at Tims for lunch?” “Who’s Tim?” I chuckled. “Tims, or Tim Hortons, is just about Canada’s biggest coffee shop chain. Has been for decades.” She nodded and turned back to the scenery out the window. “What’s a Hellcat?” Izzy suddenly asked a while later, when we were about halfway there. “You met one?” “The guy that broke me out. He was a Little and said he’d been a Hellcat? So, what’s a Hellcat?” “Wow, cool. I didn’t know Hellcat vets were in the Railroad. The Hellcats are an international team of elite special forces. They’re above the law and protected as such by UN resolutions. They’re the best of the best in CQB, and they carry out counter-terrorist and hostage-rescue operations around the world. No Big unit can match their cool, speed, finesse and precision. You were in good hands.” Izzy had a shocked, then sheepish look on her face as I said that. “What’s wrong?” I asked, slightly concerned. “I umm… kinda fought them behind the orphanage.” Her face turned bright red and she looked away from the rear-view mirror where I could see her. I decided to have some fun at her expense. “Ahh you’d better watch your butt now, you’ve probably pissed off their whole regiment.” I teased. “What?!” She squeaked. “Kidding.” I smiled at her and she chuckled nervously. Soon, I pulled into the parking lot in front of the Penticton office of the IRB and parked. There fortunately weren’t many other cars there, so I was able to find a spot in the small lot. Izzy had dozed off en-route, and her pacifier that was clipped to her dress had adorably found its way back into her mouth. It bobbed in and out there with each breath she took. She looked so precious! I gently brushed her cheek with my fingers to wake her up, almost regretting disturbing her. “Hey Sleeping Beauty, we’re here,” I chimed. She stirred and I undid the straps on her car seat. “Sorry about the seat, it’s a federal height law and honestly safer for you.” I’d forgotten to explain that to her earlier since I was focused on getting her away from the border, and I tried to make up for it now. “Mmmm,” she moaned. I was about to set her on the ground when I noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Because of this observation, I made a split-second decision and changed my movement at the last minute, swinging Izzy awkwardly for a fraction of a second and accidentally bringing the sleepy girl out of her slumber. *** I felt myself pulled up suddenly in a motion that jolted me wide awake. I looked around and realized that we were in front of a small single-story office. The lower part of the shiny black coat of the SUV that we’d arrived in was caked in a layer of dust, and the rear passenger door was open. The Amazon… Mike… closed it and apologized to me, “Sorry for waking you up, Izzy, but I just realized you weren’t wearing any shoes.” “Huh? Oh ish okay…” I rubbed my eyes and waved it off. He nodded at that, and carried me in through the front glass door on his hip. The SUV pipped behind us, signaling the doors locking, even though Mike clearly didn’t do anything apart from walk away from it. Bluetooth? RF? NFC? Probably something similar, but more advanced. Aargh, I wish I could learn all of their tech! There were a couple people waiting around inside the air-conditioned office, most of them seated on a row of cushioned chairs along a wall. Heads turned to stare disapprovingly at us when we walked in. I let my pacifier fall to where it was clipped to my dress and gawped back at them. “Why are they looking at us like that?” I whispered to Mike as he sat down with me on his lap. He sighed and whispered back, “Adoption is illegal in Canada. There are, however, a lot of Littles that choose to live like they do in the majority of the US. Some of them are used to the carefree lifestyle from before they escaped, others saw the bright sides of the lifestyle and wanted in. But when they go out and do official government things, like what we’re doing right now, they usually dress and behave as adults. This is the IRB, so you’re dressed just as inappropriately as, say, if you were wearing pajamas or a bikini.” I giggled quietly at the picture. “Some of them probably even think I kidnapped you or I’m forcing you to do this.” An official-looking Little clerk walked over to us carrying a transparent tablet, her lips pursed disapprovingly. This was the first Little I’d seen working a job, and it very much set the tone for what Canada would be like for me. “Sir, I’m going to ask you to let her sit by herself,” she told Mike. She addressed both of us as he lifted me to an empty adjacent chair. “Miss…” she looked at her tablet for a moment, “Green, please be considerate of others the next time you pick an outfit to wear to a government office. I’ll let you both stay this time, but be warned that if you dress and behave like this next time, someone will likely ask you to leave.” I tried to start explaining to the lady, but Mike squeezed my hand to stop me, and I complied with a sigh. The clerk tapped at her tablet and gave us a number two greater than the one displayed on a TV hanging from the ceiling. “When your number shows up, please go into office number three over there, and an agent will help you out,” she instructed, pointing to the TV. “Miss Green must go in alone, per our privacy policies,” she looked threateningly at Mike. I nodded and Mike thanked her, and she seemed to be somewhat put off by that. She blinked and turned to speak to one of the others waiting. After about 10 more minutes, the display updated to mine and I jumped down from the chair. “They’re there to help you, so don’t lie about anything. Answer every question truthfully and provide as many details as you can. Good luck, I’m here if you need me,” Mike reassured. I nodded and walked over to the ajar wooden door labeled with a fancy calligraphic 3, my socked feet slipping on the floor tiles. The Amazon man inside looked up in surprise when I pushed it open and walked in. “What on earth are you wearing?!” He gasped, but quickly recovered. “Okay, okay, can you close the door?” When I did so, he took a deep breath and continued, “Okay… Isabelle, I’m Agent Duncan Schmidt with the IRB. I want you to know that you’re completely safe here. No one else, including the Big that I’m told you came with, will hear about anything you tell me, understand? And please have a seat.” I nodded, climbing onto a chair in front of his desk. “Okay, so I need to know, is he forcing you to dress like this? If so, that's illegal, you have every right that any other person in Canada has. We don’t discriminate by height or size here.” “No no, he isn’t. I just escaped from an orphanage in the US, and I haven’t exactly got anything to change into yet,” I explained nervously. He looked unconvinced, but dropped the matter. “Okay, so I need to confirm a few things with you. Can you state your full name and date of birth?” “Isabelle Dauphin Green,” I answered, followed by my date of birth. He nodded and tapped a couple things on his tablet. “You crossed the US border today and came straight here?” “Yeah,” I nodded. “I have it here on your application that you came via portal from the other dimension?” “Yeah,” I nodded. Application? “What was the date of your dimensional entry?” “Uhh…” I blanked on this one. I’d never bothered to ask anyone for the date, and no one had ever told me. “This past July?” I ventured vaguely. The chess tournament had taken place sometime in mid-July, and I knew that the dates were the same here as back home. Agent Schmidt looked at me suspiciously. “You don’t have the exact date?” “Umm… no, sorry.” “Okay, which portal did you go through? The name given by either dimension is fine.” “Uhhh… I…” How am I supposed to name the localized portal that the UN made?! “The UN one?” “What UN one?” “The one the UN made for me?” “What?? How am I supposed to help you if you make up answers to my questions?!” He looked exasperated, and he’d succeeded in scaring me. I started sobbing my heart out for the second time that day. Chapter 10 — Canadian, Eh? Thanks to the tracker I’d put on Izzy, I was able to listen as Agent Schmidt lost it and Izzy began to cry. Thank God I did that. I sighed as I got up and walked to the office. The Little employee tried to stop me, but I flashed my UN credentials and she stepped out of the way. I opened the office’s door to a depressing sight. Izzy was sobbing and the agent had his head in his hands, clearly too inexperienced for the situation at hand. He looked up at me, as if pleading for help, wanting to complain, and feeling guilty all at the same time. I sighed, picked Izzy up, and sat down with her on my lap. Her head nuzzled into my chest and I slipped her paci back into her mouth before gently patting her back to sooth her. “There there, I know you’ve had a tough day, let me handle it from here, eh?” I quietly comforted the poor girl as I slid my credentials across the desk with my free hand. “She’s telling you the truth,” I told Schmidt, turning my gaze back to him. “I was the one that brought her to this dimension. We opened up a localized portal and saved her from drowning. She’s actually right about the UN part; you can just choose ‘Other’ in the list of locations and enter ‘UN’ into the system.” He nodded and quickly did that. “Now, I can tell you’re new to this, so let me remind you of Rule 323 in your handbook. Isabelle here is a Little, obviously, and she has a sponsor, me. That means she can be fast-tracked through the refugee registration process and get her citizenship and passport now. I saw a stack of blanks in the office across the hall.” Schmidt nodded again and asked a few more questions, all of which I answered for Izzy, who’d managed to calm down and stop sniffling. The agent then got a blank passport from the opposing room and uploaded all her documents to it, along with the full-body scans I’d stolen from the orphanage servers. It was safer for Izzy that they didn’t have the scans — one less data leak to worry about. It had been a walk in the park to hack their servers and delete it after my data transfer anyway. It took just a few minutes for the central office in Ottawa to remotely approve and activate Izzy’s new passport, and we were on our way out in no time. I made sure to thank the agent for helping us, as well as the nice Little who’d both let us stay and tried to stop me. People doing their jobs thoroughly were worthy of a pat on the back, even if they got in my way. *** Mike buckled me into the car seat and handed me my passport, which consisted of a rectangle of plastic that looked like a smaller version of Sofia’s phone. “Fanks, Mike, fuh…” I paused to spit the pacifier out, “for that back there. I had no idea you were the one that brought me to this dimension… so umm… thanks… for saving my life.” “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Congrats on becoming Canadian, you deserve it.” I nodded, but one question still burned: “But why did the UN just dump me in a shack in the middle of nowhere?” Mike sighed, “I’m sorry, Izzy. I’m really sorry for what happened to you with Karen. That was our release team’s fault. You were supposed to go to Kate, Karen’s younger, richer and less heartless sister. Unfortunately, she died from a car accident just before you would have, and, well, that wasn’t something anyone expected and Karen ended up getting custody.” And now she’s IN custody. Hehe. “Again, I’m sorry. I never would’ve let that happen had I known. Most of the time the system works, but sometimes it doesn’t, and there’s nothing we can do except try to fix it.” “It’s okay,” I reassured him, “it’s not your fault I guess. The irony though.” “Yeah,” he breathed. “So, you wanna get the full Tims experience to celebrate your new Canadianness or go for drive-thru?” “It’s safe to go in, right?” I needed to be sure. “Yeah, you should be safe, especially since I’ll be there with you.” “Let’s do that then. I’d never been to Canada back home, might as well see it all now?” “Excellent choice,” Mike commended as we pulled up to park in front of the coffee shop. I got the seat straps off and opened the door… and Mike got to my side just in time to catch me from almost falling out! “Easy there, Tiger,” he steadied me and picked me up. “Hmm, I thought those buckles were supposed to be Little-proof?” “I’ve got a knack,” I shrugged. The SUV pipped again as we entered the Tim Hortons. “How is your car locking itself? Bluetooth?” “Yep, it’s a distance measurement feature. It measures the Doppler effect on the Bluetooth signal waves. You know what Doppler is?” “Frequency of the wave changes as the distance changes, right?” “Wow, you’re smart. What would little miss genius like for lunch?” I stared at the expansive menu, not quite sure of what I wanted, as we joined the line to order. “Afternoon folks, what can I get ya?” A robot server asked. “Chicken salad croissant, combo with a large, dark roast, Double Double and a hashbrown, please.” Mike told it, turning to look at me. “I uhh…” I still hadn’t made up my mind yet, but Mike’s meal was sounding pretty good. “I’ll have the same please, but a donut instead of the hashbrown?” “Excellent choice,” the android smiled. “Make her coffee a Small,” Mike interjected. “Sure. How would you like it?” It asked me. “Decaf, three cream, three sugar, please.” “Excellent, what donut would you like?” “This one, please and thank you,” I pointed at a cruller which it fished out with a pair of tongs and put in a paper bag for me. “You’re very welcome, have a seat anywhere and we’ll bring your food over in a moment.” “Decaf?” Mike questioned, sitting me down at a table and then joining me on the other side of it. I noticed that my seat was much taller than his, so the table was the right height for both of us. Quite a clever design. “I drink coffee for the flavor, not the caffeine,” I explained. On a whim I also noted, “That robot was really good at language parsing. And being nice.” “Oh? And I’m not eh?” He kidded and I laughed. “Well you’re not a robot,” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Mmm.” He nodded and continued in a less joking tone, “Welcome to Canada. Most of us — robots and people — are like this: we respect everyone regardless of size. We even have Littles on all levels of government.” “Well I’m liking it. Better than the crap I had to put up with in the States.” “Watch your language!” Mike chastised, making me jump slightly. “There’s kids around,” he reasoned, motioning towards a family of Amazons beside me. I glanced over and spotted the mother shooting daggers at me. “Sorry.” I sheepishly apologized as another robot arrived with our food. “Bon appetit!” It wished, before leaving with an empty tray from the table beside ours. “By the way, Canadians call ‘three cream, three sugar’ ‘Triple Triple’. ‘Double Double’ means two of each and ‘Regular’ means one of each. “Oh… I was wondering what you meant by that.” I was about to dig in when I realized something. “Uhh… Mike?” “What’s up?” “We didn’t pay,” I pointed out matter-of-factly. “We did, it’s automatic. See?” He tapped at the air a few times and suddenly a hologram of the receipt floated in the air in front of me. “Whoa, that’s so cool! Where’s the projector?” “It’s part of my state-of-the-art cyrano.” The hologram disappeared as he showed me a black earpiece that I’d thought was a rather old-fashioned Bluetooth earbud. I nodded and quickly said grace, before grabbing a bite of the croissandwhich. It was really good! The orphanage food I’d been eating had really prepped up my taste buds for all the proper food since my escape. By the time I finished savoring the sandwich bite by bite, Mike had finished his meal. He laughed when I picked up the honey cruller donut with both hands. It was the size of a small cake for me! “What’s the deal with you Littles and your sweets?” He smirked. “All Littles like sweets?” I questioned. “Every single one that I’ve known or heard of.” “Must be some kind of gene or something,” I offered. “Maybe…” When I finished the donut, Mike took all the garbage to the nearby bank of bins and sorted them into some 10 different types. They must really care about the environment here to go through that big of a hassle with their garbage. “C’mon, let’s go. I need to get you some shoes soon, it’s getting tiring holding you!” he remarked while picking me up again. I laughed. “You know, I kinda like it when you carry me around. Nobody’s done that for me in years!” My eyes welled up slightly as I recalled my dad carrying me as a kid when I was too tired to walk, but I shook it off. Enough tears for a day. Mike checked my diaper discreetly and whispered, “You’re soaked, you want changed?” I nodded thanks. Screw Karen, taking away all my potty training like that. *** I brought up Izzy’s situation again on the highway to Vancouver, “Where do you wanna go?” She stopped suckling on the bottle of water I’d given her. “What do you mean?” “Well, you’re no longer an illegal immigrant, you’ve got your passport, you’re a lot safer now. You still wanna come with me, or I can drop you off somewhere?” “I’d be safer with you, right?” “I think so.” “And I’ll still be free to go whenever?” “Of course.” “I’ll stick with you for now then, if that’s okay? It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else in particular to go.” “Absolutely, Izzy, I’m glad that that’s what you want.” “Are you gonna charge me rent or… how’s that gonna work?” “Don’t sweat it. It’s the least I can do for ya after everything that happened. If you get a job someday and you still want to pay me back then… we can cross that bridge when we get there, kay? Right now I don’t want you to worry about a thing.” “Thank you so much Mike. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. People like you in the Railroad are just amazing…” She thinks I’m with the Railroad. Should I tell her? What would her reaction be? She’s already decided to stay with me on her own volition… I mulled over this a bit and decided to keep it to myself for the time being. If she found out somehow, that would be great, but I wouldn’t be the one to tell her. I spent the rest of the drive chatting with Izzy about her home dimension and mine, comparing differences and noting some surprising similarities. She was an amazing person, and she’d been an aspiring chess player, steps away from her GM title, until the unfortunate incident happened. I promised her that I would do my best to find a way for her to play professionally, even though it would probably require pulling a lot of strings. The first step would involve getting her a chess set, so, seeing as she also needed clothes, diapers, shoes, and everything short of furniture in her size, I drove to a massive outlet mall I knew of in Langley. This time Izzy was more careful with her exit, and waited for me to get to her side before getting up from her car seat. She held her arms out to be picked up and I obliged her with a kiss on her forehead. I stuck a finger into her waistband to check her diaper, which earned me an “Eeep!” It was wet again, so I quickly changed her in the back of the car. “This is the last one in your baggie, we definitely need to get you some more, eh?” I noted and was met with bashful nodding. I knew I couldn’t carry both her and everything we were getting, so I made a beeline for the robocarts once we were inside. I double-tapped a black one and it rolled off its charging dock. I set Izzy down in the padded seat behind the basket for unique purchases, set it to follow me autonomously, and headed for the first shop on my cyrano’s list. On our way there, I asked Izzy an important question: “Aside from diapers which you obviously need, are there any other baby-Little things that you want? You seem pretty glued to that paci for instance? It’s perfectly normal for you to be attached to things like that from your time in the US.” I consciously left out the hypnosis she’d been subject to, in hopes of not triggering PTSD. She’d been through enough for one day. She looked a little red faced and quickly spat the paci out, catching it with her hand. “I’m sorta… drawn to these… they’re really soothing for some reason. Bottles as well,” she added reluctantly, “They’re more relaxing to drink out of and next to impossible to spill. I think the addiction might have something to do with getting hypnotized, that’s how I lost my potty training?” “Makes sense. We can do that. You want some more cute clothes too?” “Ooh I got put in these footed sleepers that were so fuzzy and comfortable, I’d love some of those. I actually had one back home too. And I won’t mind some more pretty dresses either!” She smiled at me and I smiled back. “Sure thing, princess.” She was so precious! Chapter 11 — Some Things Can’t Be Bought This Robocart thing — that’s what the sign on the charging dock called it anyway — is so high-tech. I’ve seen similar robots being used to make deliveries and shelve books in libraries, but never as grocery carts. This is genius though. You never have to worry about leaving your cart somewhere and having to find it again, or having to push it through a crowd of people… The size of the basket doesn’t make sense though… Why is it so small? It certainly wouldn’t fit the list of items that Mike mentioned he was buying… Several store employees greeted us with a smile, but they never offered to help us. Soon, I figured out that only the people with red carts got offered help, and I was sitting in a black one. Apparently, Mike didn’t think we needed any help. When we reached the first aisles of items, I noticed something was off immediately. “Uhh Mike? Why are there only demos of everything and no actual stock?” “Oh I can just scan the barcode with my cyrano and it’ll be added to our virtual cart. We’ll pay at checkout and then pick up everything from the dispensary. Here, you wanna help me scan? That should give you something to do other than look around and keep you from being bored to death?” He fished something that looked like a large signet ring out of a pocket and handed it to me. I took the device from him. It was really light and seemed to be made of plastic. “That is such a brilliant idea!” I couldn’t believe that no one in my dimension had thought of this shopping model before. I never liked online shopping because I couldn’t see and feel the actual product. VR previewing was a thing, but that could only go so far. We’d yet to perfect reproducing textures and the feeling of holding a physical sample in your hands with haptic feedback. On the other hand, in-person shopping was slow and frustrating. People spent way too much time getting things off shelves and into their carts, not to mention all the checkout lines. “I know, right? Best of both worlds.” He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. I twirled the ring around my finger. “Kay, how does this work?” “Point the lens at a barcode and press on the back — there’s a pressure switch under the polycarbonate there. The scanner will vibrate every time it reads the code. If we get two of the same item just scan the same thing twice, and so on; one scan per count.” We reached our first stop in an aisle full of all sorts of different diapers, and Mike tossed me a Frozen-3-themed sample, covered in little snowflakes, Elsas, and Annas. I caught it like a frisbee and brushed my fingers over the fabric of the padding. It felt like I was touching a cloud! “Whoa, this is so soft! Makes the ones I’ve been wearing feel like sandpaper.” “MapleLove. It’s a Canadian brand, and we tend to do things right, even if we don’t really advertise that on the international scene. Scan it twice for two cases for now, eh?” He smiled. “Kay,” I nodded. “Oh right, what size are you?” “Err… I’m not sure?” “Okay, stand up and let me check.” I begrudgingly complied and let him lift my dress up to see. It felt like my wet diaper was exposed for the entire world’s viewing pleasure, and I was definitely going to die from embarrassment! “The princess is of size four,” Mike proclaimed in a whisper, chuckling when he saw the color of my face. “What’s wong, pwincess don’t wike her diapees shown off?” I whacked his arm. “Not funny, Mike. You try it sometime.” He smirked and handed me another diaper from the same brand. This one was covered in little translucent robot characters that reminded me of EVE from WALL-E. I didn’t recognize the characters though, so it was probably a Disney movie from this dimension. Hang on… “Why is this one so thick?” “It’s a nighttime diaper. Extra capacity so you don’t leak. One case should be plenty for now, we can always restock online.” I nodded and scanned it. Mike walked over to an adjacent aisle and the robocart followed suit. This one displayed an assortment of pacifiers and bottles. I was seeing more of these today than I’d ever seen in my entire life. “Any in particular that you like?” “Anything but the ones that expand. Those hurt like hell. Also, pink isn’t my color.” He nodded and picked up a Blue/Green/Purple 3-pack and matching bottles. He also grabbed a plaque for a case of wipes and a wipe warmer, something I’d never heard of but he assured me I would love. Just as I finished scanning all of them, I heard a female voice call out. “Mike! Didn’t expect to see you here today. How’s it going?” I looked up and saw a middle-aged Big with a Little in a sling of sorts. “Hey Maria! Going pretty well, yourself?” As she drew closer, she was about to respond when she saw me. “I’m— Oh my gosh, that’s… that’s…” “Isabelle,” Mike helped her out. “What’s going on, Mike? Why is she here?” “I’m just getting her some clothes and stuff. As you know, the release team screwed up and she got messed up pretty badly in the US, but she managed to get to the Railroad. I met her at the border. The paperwork is all done, I sponsored her and she’s Canadian now,” he smiled. “Wow, I’m glad you’re okay. Maria Torelli, I’m the physician on Mike’s team at the DRC.” She repositioned the sling and reached out her hand, and I grasped it in an awkward handshake. Our hands had so much of a size difference that I would have done better shaking only a finger or two! “This is Michelle, my adopted Little girl— Ooh! Hi snookums! You’re awake!” She looked down and gave Michelle her full attention, gently playing with her for a moment and then sitting her up. I took the opportunity to give Mike an uncomfortable look. He seemed to understand why, and put his hand reassuringly on my shoulder. “Ask her about it.” “Umm… Maria? No offence, but I thought adoptions were illegal here?” She looked back at me and lightly bounced Michelle, who had her thumb in her mouth and was cooing softly. “None taken. In the vast majority of situations, yes. So don’t worry, Mike can’t adopt you, even if you wanted him to, which I very much doubt.” She paused and he chuckled. “But special cases are granted for the few regressed Littles that somehow end up in Canada. Usually it only happens when an adoptive parent in the US screws up somehow, and the Railroad rescues the Little. It’s really a needle in a haystack though. Unfortunately Michelle’s regression was clinically proven to be irreversible, so she’s stuck like this for the rest of her life.” “Fortunately for her, I love her very very much, and I take very good care of her,” she told Michelle friskilly with a kiss. The Little girl in her arms just stared blankly into the distance with empty eyes and a blissful smile. I could tell that she was just a shell of a body, with no personality, no thoughts, and barely any consciousness. It was as if her brain was disconnected with reality. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Maria does seem to love and care about her though. Somewhere in my subconscious, a sliver of envy panged at just how much love Michelle was getting. Having always been the mushy, clingy one in the family, and ridiculed for it, I was a sucker for affection. Mike had definitely given me plenty with his hugs and kisses, especially considering we’d literally met less than 16 hours ago, but a little part of me couldn’t help but crave more of that. Just thinking about it made me feel fuzzy and warm. “Well, we’d better get going, this one needs her diapee changed.” She remarked. Turning to me, she continued, “Looking like you could use one yourself, eh?” The fuzziness dissipated and the warmth relocated to my face at her remark. I wanted to dig a hole and jump into it! I took a sharp breath, but got it together enough to wave goodbye to Michelle as Mike said “See ya!” and Maria disappeared down another aisle. Mike then turned to move to the adjacent store, and the robocart trailed him. From a quick history lesson Mike gave me on the spot, this one seemed to be this dimension’s version of Oshkosh. I cringed a bit at that, but I did ask for cute clothes, and beggars couldn’t be choosers, so I kept my complaints to myself. We found the toddler footwear section, where a friendly sales associate measured my feet to ascertain my new shoe size. Once Mike entered it into his cyrano, I scanned a pack of cute animal socks and another pack of normal pastel colored ones. In the same section, we also picked up a pair of sandals, sneakers to which Mike hilariously referred as “running shoes”, and some cute and furry booties that looked like a pair of little kittens. They were all adorably brightly colored and adorned with cute designs, but a distinctive compass icon on each of them caught my eye. Mike saw me fingering the icon patch on the sandals after I’d scanned them, and explained, “It means they come with GPS tracking tags. It’s a really common feature used to prevent children from getting lost. You can hardly find any kids’ shoes without them these days. We can always disable them or even rip the chips out altogether if you’d like, but I don’t think we’ll find any shoes here that fit you and come without ’em.” In an adjacent section, we found racks of dresses, onesies, rompers, and footed sleepers of various designs and sizes. It turned out that clothes shopping was exactly like back home, since there were several duplicates of each of the hundreds of styles, with retail tags on them. So that explained the robocart basket. Mike grabbed several dresses and sleepers that caught my eye for me. The adorable toddler and fashionable adult dress designs from this dimension both looked amazing, and I could see myself wearing just about anything on the racks. Just to be safe though, I did also get Mike to find me some plain jeans and t-shirts. We headed for the fitting rooms, where I tried on my selections and modeled a few for Mike. He cracked up when I put on a unicorn-themed dress, complete with a matching glittering horn headband. I also had to enlist his help with some of the designs that zipped up the back, which I felt were a pain and decided not to get, even though they looked really cute! I was still very unused to being in a fitting room with another person, even though said person had literally changed my diaper several times by then. It was just something I hadn’t done since I was a little girl. Guess I AM one again. Honestly, I’m still not sure how I feel about that. Thankfully, Mike had the same basic fashion sense as me, so we went through the giant pile of clothes in record time. After trying everything on, I made a few edits to my selections and scanned everything. Mike then put the clothes in the robocart’s basket. On our way out of the store, he took a detour through the stuffed animal section. “Anything you’d like here? Plenty of adults have giant plushies… I may or may not have one myself,” he smiled and gave me a playful wink. “Hmm…” What the heck. Might as well go all the way and splurge on my cuddling desires. “Can I have a dolphin?” I pointed at a pile of them, each one the same size as me. “Sure, princess. It’s your middle name, right?” He grabbed one and set it in the basket. “Well my middle name’s supposed to be the title of the crown prince of France, but it does have multiple meanings, so sure.” After I scanned the stuffies, we proceeded to an IKEA-like store on the other side of the mall. There, Mike had me scan everyday things like cutlery, a sonic teeth cleaner, a desk and chair, and a bed, none of which he had in my size. When he asked if I wanted a crib or a regular bed, I told him about how much I hated the stupid cribs at the orphanage for how prison-esque they felt and how I relished my freedom. For the same reason, I went with a booster seat instead of a highchair for meals. Having spent the past few weeks under almost suffocating restrictions, I didn’t want any more. Mike even managed to find a chessboard for me. When he claimed that he’d beat me with it, I giggled, knowing that, unless he’d somehow left out crazy secrets about who he was, he stood no chance. Our final stop was a Best-Buy-like store called Motherboards. Mike looked like he was giddy with excitement as soon as he stepped foot inside. He was definitely as much a tech fan as I was, if not more so. I couldn’t help but get hyped when I saw the crazy specs of everything, and I literally drooled at the insane hardware that they had. I could easily spend a whole day in this store, but Mike seemed to know what he was looking for. He waved off an overeager sales rep trying to be helpful and made a beeline for a section labelled ‘Displays and Peripherals’. He double-checked something with a sales rep there that I didn’t quite understand, and scanned the items himself with his cyrano. When I asked him what he got, he just smiled and said I’d find out soon. I was exhausted, so I didn’t push the matter. Mike took a left out of Motherboards and led us back to the mall entrance where we’d come in from. There, he showed me how the mall’s centralized checkout system worked. It turned out to be exactly like shopping on Amazon, less the shipping selections, since we were collecting the items right there. When the payment went through, an employee walked us to a receiving bay, where an autonomous flatbed robocart laden with everything we’d purchased met us. The employee checked over everything with Mike, and he confirmed receipt by scanning his cyrano. With that done, they thanked each other and Mike headed for the SUV, where he transferred everything except my dolphin to the trunk. Mike then picked me up, handed it to me, and pressed a button on both carts to automatically return them. Mike tore open a case of diapers and a pack of wipes. He changed me on the backseat before disposing of the used diaper in a nearby trash receptacle. The MapleLove indeed felt amazing. I could hardly even tell it was there, if not for the slight warmth and the bulk. Mike buckled me into my car seat. At that point, I had the first real chance that day to process the sensory overload. Nothing else demanded my attention. My head hurt from all the incredibly convoluted feelings I had, even as I felt content that I had no immediate worries. I abhorred whoever destroyed Michelle with fiery disgust. I pitied the poor girl. I was grateful that Maria had stepped up and shown her love that was as unconditional as a human could give. I still had a twinge of disbelief that I’d managed to escape, and a panging guilt that my friends were trapped in the orphanage. I was hopeful for my future, grateful for Mike’s kindness, captivated by all the futuristic tech in this dimension, and thankful that God hadn’t forsaken me. Above all, there hung an overarching exhaustion from the day’s events. Fatigue soon enveloped me. Hugging my dolphin, pacifier bobbing in and out of my mouth in tune with my gentle breathing, I drifted off to a peaceful sleep and the land of carefree, uncomplicated dreams. End of Part 1 =========================================================== Thanks for reading Part 1 of my story! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing. You can find Part 2 in the original thread linked below, being posted a chapter a week! Please leave a like and a comment, it means the world to me!
  23. Hello All, This will be my first story posted. Long time lurker, abdl, switch, daddy, yada yada. I'm open to critics and I'll change when I can (hehe) but for the most part I'm happy with what I've wrote. I'm already 20,000 words and 15 chapters into this story. I'll be posting (hopefully) every Monday and Friday with a new chapter. If this gets enough love I might do some spin offs and one shots. Let me know. (Cover art by DiaperedPrince) Chapter 1: I See You’re Finally Awake The dim room that greeted Ava’s eyes was not a welcome one for the little. Pastels walls, and pastel furniture, and pastel clothes, and pastel toys, all lay beyond pure white bars. A few locks of soft brown hair were quickly shaken aside to get an unobscured look at the soft blues and pinks that dominated her vision. “Better to be awake before the bitch gets up and ruins what few moments alone I have.” She said to herself, or would have if she hadn’t forgot about the rubber gag dominating her mouth. Sure, call it a pacifier, but normally pacifiers don’t have straps that run behind the head of their victims. The feelings she slowly regained consciousness of weren’t any better than the view. Most people would appreciate soft pajamas and a firm clean mattress. Ava could feel the soft fabric start at her upper neck, run down her body and split off to her arms and legs. Once you got to her feet and hands, however, you would find firm leather cuffs keeping her appendages spread apart. She didn’t even know why Mommy (Yes mommy as the woman formerly referred to as “the bitch” demanded she be called) would put these cuffs on her. The end of the sleeves had soft but firm perfectly round mittens that meant she couldn’t pick up anything, and the wedge in her similarly round booties prevented her from walking for more than a few steps before tottering down on her padded posterior. Another indignity, and in Ava’s mind the worst of it, was the ridiculously thick diaper strapped to her heiny. Ava had changed a diaper or two when she had to babysit back in her world, but never had she ever thought, “Let’s put enough padding on this tyke that they won’t be able to sit up straight.” “They treat me like some kind of BDSM toddler!” The mumbling was met with equally frustrated thrashing. That did it. If she did hear the fucking diaper crinkling she definatly heard this stupid protective mattress cover. Why does she even have that??? Not like I’m gonna leak out of this pillow she calls a diaper. Tears welled up in her eyes before she quickly shook it off, causing even more infuriating russelling beneath her. Tears were a week one Ava thing, maybe a sometimes thing on week two, but this was week three Ava who had convinced herself to be strong. She didn’t care what happened to her. Those spankings weren’t so bad (so long as the old bitty didn’t use the hairbrush), and the soap wasn’t so bad considering the mush she had to eat for food (the one time the grey haired demon, formally known as Mommy, had mentioned she could no longer breastfeed Ava nearly vomited), and the enema was………. not something Ava was keen on thinking about. Trying to ignore the memory, Ava did a quick roll from side to side. Thick, powder filled, cream coated diaper rustled as it hugged her most sensitive area. Heh. Guess the hypnotic cartoons she forced me to watch didn’t do the trick. I’m still dry mothafucka!!!! Guess I’m made of better stock than you thought. If the shield of her pacifier wasn’t so big, you might have been able to see a smile creep up on her face before being quickly wiped away. Yesterday Mommy had been so excited to strap her little lamb into a bouncy prison in front of the cinema sized T.V. before putting in some kind of chip into a box with a click and a message on the screen saying, “Removable drive accepted. Play video?” The nearly 12 foot tall elderly woman smiled down in complete adoration of the 5’3’’ baby girl, “You’ll love this, baby. I know most parents would have introduced you to all kinds of cartoon friends by now, but I was hoping you’d relax a bit more on your own.” She turned her body towards the screen before clicking a button on her remote. The woodland creatures that instantly popped on the screen were not the typical kind of entertainment the 25 year old college student was used to, but she was quickly finding the appeal. The way they danced on the screen was incredibly funny and their snarky jokes could rival the best comedians.” Back in her immediate surroundings Ava was shaken by her memories of the previous day by a familiar but unwelcome feeling in her lower gut. After the first week with no “presents” for her Mommy she was given the much dreaded enema. Ava shuddered at the phantom feeling of water and soap filling up her bottom. What she thought would be a quick and painless process was filled with more tears than she would openly admit. Mommy had rubbed her bloated stomach and pat her puffy bottom sending vibrations to the plug holding back the deluge of waste and water. Mommy wanted her thoroughly cleaned out, and if Ava had learned anything at that point was that Mommy got what Mommy wants. She had been much more compliant after that. The constant escape attempts had momentarily stopped, the strings of profanity were nowhere to be found, and her diapers were now daily filled with her own organic mudslides. Oatmeal coming in and its smelly, brown version coming out made here feel like the infant the elderly woman claimed her to be. Even now Ava was weighing her options. Would she debase herself and give in to the cramps down below, or would she hold out until the last second before a change. The less time she spent smelling of poop and baby powder was a win, but Mommy might think her little one was holding it in again and spend some more time getting her naughtiness washed out. The threat was enough for her to just lighten her clenched cheeks for just a second before they snapped back shut. I’ll wait until she comes in at least. No reason to spend any more time covered in shit than absolutely necessary. She won’t know the difference anyway. And so her master plan to keep her pants clean as long as possible commenced. Butt clenched, appendages spread far apart, nether regions swaddled in immense padding, body covered in soft fleece, and pacifier softly bobbing in and out while the room was covered in the dim light of a teddy bear night light.
  24. I am having a hard time as I first became very attracted to plastic pants when a lady I was dating showed up wearing cute pink PP under her skirt one evening. I have never been aroused so quickly in my life! However, I found it difficult to find another person who will even consider playing like that. Recently I began using diapers and plastic pants at night in bed for stimulation. However, now I like wetting them and I
  25. Hey guys, I’m working on role reversal stories. I have created a Patreon where this story is updated weekly, but I will be posting more chapters in here as time goes on. What other scenarios you’d like to see? Let me know so that I can add them to my list. At the moment I’m working on other stories about role reversals and more! My Patreon is https://www.patreon.com/LittlerWriter?fan_landing=true If you join, I will be adding new stories weekly and you can even tell me if you want me to continue with Evelyn’s regression, From Fatherhood to Babyhood or, if you prefer, something new! Babying James James had always been insecure about his height. It didn't help that at nineteen, he was still in the last year of high school or looked more like a middle school boy than a man. Being held back one year didn't really help, and even if he was the oldest in his classroom, he was the one everyone bullied. His only consolation in life was his best friend Kyle, who was a year younger than him but in the same classroom. Kyle was everything James wasn't. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes. Captain of the Football team, the swimming team, and basically just better at everything. His grades were also perfect. It just seemed to James that Kyle had everything figured out. Chapter One James' mother, Emma, was a good-looking woman, especially for someone in her forties. She worked for a pharmaceutical company, which meant she had to travel a lot when releasing a new drug on the market. She had two kids, James and Charles. Although James was the oldest, he tended to be a sort of momma's boy, which meant that Charles, at only fourteen, would boss him around when they were alone. To the point where Emma would find James crying after spending an entire day by themselves. Now, she needed to travel for over two months, and there was no way she could leave James in charge of the house. She went to the living room, where she found James and Charles playing video games while Kyle, James' best friend, read a book. He seemed so much more mature than both her kids, even if he was younger than James. "Hello, Miss Clement," said Kyle, his voice manlier than James and most men her age, "You look great." "Thanks, Kyle," she said, blushing; that's when it hit her. Why not leave Kyle in charge? He already spent most of his time in their home, and he was responsible enough to keep everyone safe, "Could I talk to you for a minute? In private?" Kyle nodded and stood up, a towering man. She couldn't believe he was only eighteen. "Is there any problem?" Asked Kyle as they reached the kitchen. "No, nothing. I mean, it is not really a serious problem". "It's okay, you can tell me," he said reassuringly. She didn't know why, but his words did make her feel more at peace with her decision. So, she explained what she wanted and offered Kyle money to take care of her kids while she went out to work. "Babysit?" Asked Kyle. "I know James is already a man, I mean…." "He is special," said Kyle, "But I meant more about Charles. He can take care of himself." "I know, but James, on the other hand." "So, I'm taking care of James to prevent Charles from walking all over him." "That's it," said Emma, "I know it is a big imposition, and you already have your plate full. I mean school, and all your sports, and homework..." "I'll do it." "Really? I'm so glad you said yes." "As I said, James is special. And, I think he does need someone to look after him if you are gone for too long." "If you are going to do this, there are a couple of things you need to know," she said, "Now, it only happens once a week or not even, but Jamie will sometimes wet the bed. He has these nightmares, and I think he just cannot tell that it's happening until he wakes up. I know it's a lot, but just reminding him to pee before going to sleep would be helpful." Kyle nodded. "And, he can come from school crying sometimes. It means someone has been mean to him, and I usually hug him until he feels better." There was a short pause. "It's okay. I'll deal with it," said Kyle. "So you'll do it?" Asked Emma. "I will" The two of them went to the living room, where they found James and Charles fighting over the controllers. Though it wasn't much of a fight and more James begging Charles to let him go or he'll tell his mother; and Charles. Well, he was laughing as he pushed his older brother to the ground. Emma knew that she couldn't take James with her, but she wanted to. Her son needed her protection, though Kyle would do a good job. He always did a good job in everything. Chapter Two "I'm in charge of the house?" Asked James, smiling and excited at the prospect of his mother going away for so long. "Yeah," said Emma, lying to her son wasn't something she enjoyed, but she couldn't tell him that his best friend was in charge of babysitting him, "I also talked to Kyle. He will be staying here to keep you guys company." "Sick," said James, his heart beating faster than usual. He would spend more time with Kyle than ever, which made him smile, though he wasn't sure why. "I just want you to be nice to Charles, okay?" "Okay, mom," said Jame. "Now, give me a kiss and go do your homework. I don't want any surprises like last year." James blushed. He was ashamed of failing his last year of school, but because of it, he met Kyle, who was the silver lining of his life. Though, everyone else beside him would tease James because of his size, lack of masculine features, and the fact that he tended to cry when bullied. A nineteen-year-old baby, that's what they called him, and part of him felt like it was true. He left his mother's room and went to do his homework, though he soon grew frustrated at it. It was his second time going through the same homework and exams, and he was still not good at it. He began tearing, which was a mistake 'cause that's when his brother came into his room. "Are you crying?" "No," said James, though it was more than evident that he was. "What is wrong with you? You are supposed to be my big brother, not the baby of the house." Charles left the room, disgusted at his older brother. James knew he was right. An older brother wouldn't be pissing the bed every other night, nor would he cry when things got hard. So, why was he still crying? Was he not the older brother? Yes, he was. Decided to change the way people treated him, James stood up and washed his face. He was an older brother, and he was going to start acting like one. The only problem was he didn't know how to. Maybe now that his mom was going away, he could try and be more responsible, and he should start by not wetting the bed anymore. Their mother left the following day, and luckily for James, he woke up dry. He was so excited and proud of himself, and his mother made him a special breakfast just before leaving. Yes, things were going to change. He was going to change, and nothing would stop him. But, as soon as his mother closed the door, things didn't change. "Okay, loser, I'll be in my room. Let Kyle in when he gets here," said Charles, as if he was talking with someone below him, and, even if James wanted to impose himself as the older bother, he didn't know how. He was alone in the living room until a knock on the door broke the silence. Jame opened the door to find Kyle, tall and handsome, holding a big suitcase and his school backpack. He was wearing a classy shirt, some pants that really let people see he was a full man, and his cologne was almost as strong as his body odor. "Hello, little one," said Kyle, "Ready to have fun?" Little one was the nickname Kyle had given him. He had protested at first but to no success. Now, that and baby were his name whenever Kyle was around. Though, he would avoid calling him that way at school. "I'm ready," said James, allowing Kyle in and feeling better knowing that while Kyle was around, Charles wouldn't make fun of him too much.
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