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Trapped in Diaper Dreams: Prologue I yawned, despite the three cups of coffee I'd already downed this evening. The subject of my testing, a Mr. Franklin Jones, snored next to me at a decibel level high enough that I wondered if I should be wearing ear plugs to prevent any long-term damage. Well, I'd have to remember that for next time. Mr. Jones was had volunteered for a special sleep study in which I, Dr. Hannah Lynton, tested my ingenious invention on him. It was an apparatus designed to allow a conscious person to control the dreams of someone who was asleep by measuring the activity of the awake person and projecting it as theta waves into the brain of the sleeper. On the surface, not many people see the utility of such a device. Why would you want to control someone's dreams? But they don't see the bigger picture. This could be used to allow people to speak to comatose loved ones. Or perhaps it could be used as a rehabilitation method on the criminally insane? The possibilities are as limitless as… Well, as dreams! Unfortunately, I haven't had much success. The test involved myself and the patient wearing special headgear attached to the machine between us. Then once he was asleep, I was to read a novel–in this case Moby Dick–and then when the patient awakes we ask him what he dreamt about and see if it matches the events of the book. This was our 5th time repeating this test and we've seen few positive results. On the 2nd night he did dream about being on a boat, but that's where the similarities ended. If tonight didn't yield any workable results, I'd be back to the drawing board. The door opened to my right and I managed to glance up from my book to see my colleague, Dr. Bethany Avery bringing me another cup of coffee. "Having fun yet?" she whispered. I gave her a quick smile and turned my attention back to my book. Protocol dictated that I keep distractions to a minimum. Although I had to admit, I could find myself very easily distracted by Dr. Avery… She placed the coffee cup on the tray next to me and took my empty one. "I don't know how you manage to drink so much coffee during these tests knowing you can't get up to use the bathroom until morning. Unless you're wearing an adult diaper or something?” I cringed at the thought. A diaper? Me? ”As if I would ever do something so…” Humiliating? Childish? ”Unprofessional.” She shrugged “Is it really all that less-professional than pissing in a bottle?” She glanced under my chair and I felt heat rise up to my cheeks. I know she couldn't see the bottle I'd hidden inside my purse, but I suppose she must have surmised that I was finding some way to relieve myself during these overnight tests. I think she sensed my discomfort with the topic and backed off a bit “Sorry, I'm being weird. Do whatever you think is best, doctor.” The sudden use of an honorific somehow made me feel like I'd messed up. Pushing Bethany away was the last thing I wanted. “N-no, it's fine! I umm… I guess I just… Never thought of it that way?” Perhaps I was just projecting my own desires, but I could've sworn I caught a hint of a smirk in her eyes. Was she… Enjoying watching me get all flustered? “Well, if you decide you wanna try it, I can probably sneak a diaper from the supply closet for you.” she winked, heading out of the room. My gaze lingered on the doorway after she was gone. Damn. She sure does have a way of getting under my skin… And her idea was… Not without merit. Using my “piss bottle” as she called it, was among my least favorite parts of this whole experiment. I'd never considered that there might be an alternative solution. But diapers? Really? How could I, a grown woman, stoop so low as to wear a diaper and pee myself like some kind of… Baby? And why are my cheeks burning so badly at the thought? *ZZZZZZTTT!* The lights overhead suddenly flickered as something on the machine burst and sparks spewed out. But none of that registered to my mind as my body went completely rigid and my head felt like it was on fire! I don't know if it lasted a second or several minutes, but when the Surge of electricity finally subsided I slumped in my seat, my vision darkening as I fell into unconsciousness… \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ (And now, a message from Wannatripbaby): Hi all! So this is the Prologue for a sort of Anthology series Princessdiapergirl and myself have decided to start for any sort of random, crazy story idea we get that isn't quite big or bold enough for a multi-chapter story. This way we can get straight into the good stuff without all the set-up. So far, we have one (1) fully written story for this series which we will likely post sometime within the next few days. After that? Well, that's where you come in! If you can think of any crazy or kinky scenarios you'd like to see us inflict upon our poor Dr. Hannah Lynton, leave a Comment down below and tell us! We might just make it a reality! 😁

Like I've said before, this story (as well as story number 1, 3 and 4) are not necessary to read. They are a failed experiment in weirdness where I ended up writing myself into a corner. The whole series is rebooted in story number 5, so if these stories aren't your cup of tea, you can safely skip ahead. The story tags will be updated as the different parts are posted so they won't act as spoilers. And as with my other stories, this series has an entry on my index post. ---------------------------------- The Inheritance (Part 1 of 7) "What the hell are you talking about?" Maggie looked up at the man in an expensive-looking suit and tie standing next to her table. He looked awkwardly out of place among the casually dressed students in the university cafeteria. "Your name is Maggie, is it not?" the stranger repeated. "Yeah, and?" The man sighed. "Look, this is a bit odd, but this is you, isn't it?" He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his jacket, unfolded it and put it down on the table next to Maggie's half-finished sandwich. It was a pencil sketch of her. "Damn, that's you," Christopher said. He was sitting across the table from Maggie. Maggie had to admit that the sketch looked remarkably like her. "OK," she said, "that's me. And if you have a modelling offer or something like that, take a hike." Christopher was still looking at the sketch. "This is really good," he said. "When did you pose for it?" "She didn't," the stranger said drily. "This sketch is more than twenty years old." "Okay," Maggie said cautiously, "I'm interested. Keep going." The stranger sat down. "I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Rhett Moreau and I work for the law firm of Mathers & Mayhew." "So you're a lawyer?" Mr Moreau nodded. "And...?" Maggie made a beckoning gesture. "Our firm mostly handle estate law. And, if you pass certain tests, you may be the heir to the remaining estate of Dr Charlie Stefanova." "But what has that got to do with a twenty year old sketch of me?" Mr Moreau adjusted his tie before continuing. "Dr Stefanova's will included strict instructions that we were to wait until this year before trying to find you. All we had to work with was this sketch and your first name. Well, that and the control questions." Maggie was confused. "I don't know anybody called Charlie Stefanova. I've never even heard of the guy." "Dr. Stefanova was a woman. She insisted on Charlie although her given name was Charlotte." "Charlotte?!?" Maggie's head snapped up. "Do you have a picture of her?" she asked urgently. "Certainly," Mr Moreau said. He fiddled with his phone for a few moments before handing it to Maggie. On the screen was a picture of a woman in her late sixties. Her grey hair would have made Albert Einstein's hair look neat. "Do you have a picture of her when she was younger? Like in her twenties or thirties?" "Sorry, no," Mr Moreau said. "No worries," Christopher said, his phone already out. "Stefanova with an f or a ph?" "F." "Google to the rescue," he announced and showed Maggie. The woman in the picture was without a doubt the same Charlotte Maggie had met only a couple of weeks earlier, albeit dressed quite differently. She was wearing a white lab coat and seemed to be giving some kind of lecture. "It worked," Maggie whispered. "You made it." "Excuse me?" Mr Moreau looked at her. "Oh, nothing," Maggie said. "You said something about additional tests?" "Well, they're more like control questions given to us by Dr Stefanova. Bear in mind that she was quite eccentric and the questions don't really make any sense, but her will states quite clearly that unless you answer them correctly you get nothing." "So no pressure then," Maggie quipped. Mr Moreau just stared at her with a blank expression. "Never mind. What are the questions?" "Like I said, these questions doesn't really make any sense." Mr Moreau tapped his phone a few times. "OK, Dr Stefanova's first question is: What colour was the dress I wore when you last saw me?" "Pale yellow," Maggie said quickly. Mr Moreau raised an eyebrow, but continued. "Number two: Which flower will I never draw again?" Maggie had a mental flash of the stack of Charlotte's drawings she had found. She shook her head to clear it. "Bluebells." "Interesting," Mr Moreau said cryptically. "And last: Who did we leave behind?" Maggie swallowed. "Maria and Jacob," she said quietly. Leaving them behind when Charlotte, Tommy and herself had weighed heavily on her. Mr Moreau rose and put away his phone. "I have to check your answers with the sealed documents we have from Dr Stefanova, but if they're correct, you'll be hearing from us." He turned and left before Maggie had a chance to say anything. "Well that was weird," Christopher said when Mr Moreau was gone. "So how do you know her?" "I don't. Not really anyway. Look, it's complicated." Maggie didn't really want to tell Christopher about how she had met Charlotte. Partly because it had led her to need diapers at night for almost a week, but also because saying it out loud would make it sound even more insane than it already seemed in her mind. "So what did you find out about her?" Maggie pointed to Christopher's phone. "Let's see," he said and he scrolled down. "Born in 1947. Three Ph.D's: Physics, biomechanical engineering and computer engineering. She was one of those annoying child prodigies who is good at almost everything. Finished high school at eleven. Apparently she had some kind of mental breakdown at Woodstock in '69 when she was 22. It says something about severe mental regression due to a bad acid trip. Apparently it took her years to recover. After that, she worked mostly on some of the more out-there things." "What do you mean 'out-there'?" "Science-fictioney, quantum physics stuff like parallel universes, time travel and artificial intelligence. Obviously she didn't make any front-page advances." "When did she die?" Maggie felt a strange mix of feelings. Relief that Charlotte and probably also Tommy got back to their place in time, but also guilt and shame at having left Maria and Jacob behind when they escaped. "It doesn't say. She just disappeared in 2010." "Disappeared?" "That's what it says here." Christopher pointed to the screen of his phone. "I guess she must have been declared dead. I mean, if they're looking up people in her will." "I guess," Maggie said absent-mindedly. "So how did you end up in her will? No way it's some kind of scholarship. Not with your grades." "Look who's talking. Your grades are even worse than mine." "Yeah, and that's why you love me," he said with a grin. "But seriously, why would you be in the will of a mad scientist" Maggie sighed. "It's kinda-" "Complicated. Yeah you keep saying that." "Look, can't this wait until I actually know if I inherit anything. The guy said he had to check to see if the answers were right." "Oh come on, you didn't sound like you were guessing. You knew the answers." "I said I didn't want to talk about it," Maggie snapped, suddenly feeling very annoyed with Christopher's curiosity. "Fine, fine." Christopher held up his hands. "Jeez, I was just curious." The rest of the lunch passed in an awkward silence.

My GF thinks that I should definitely NOT go to work diapered at my new job. I recently started a new job as a janitor in a warehouse. I'm constantly active and moving around and taking somewhere around 5,000-6,000 steps per shift. Which with my long legs, is probably several miles. 😅 At my last job, I wore twice a week because it was a fairly inactive position and it helped me to enjoy my days more. I was thinking about trying to do the same for this job, but my GF is adamant about it being a bad idea to wear at a job where I have to walk so much. She's afraid the friction will cause injury to a very-valuable part of my anatomy. 😳😱😅 So I wanted to pose the question here to the experts: are her fears accurate? I wouldn't have the opportunity to change if I had any sorts of issues. Does anyone here work an especially Active job and still wear during their shift?

I met Russell at a hotel, one of my girlfriends had gotten married that day and her reception was there. I had about 2 beers, you know what they say about beer, you only rent it. I needed to pee like a doped racehorse! I went to the toilet, did my thing there. Wished my bladder was bigger, I'm one of those girls that need to pee twice as much as everybody else, I was a bedwetter until I was 15 years old. According to every Urologist my parents drug me to, I have a very small bladder. After relieving myself there were 3 guys that were going to the men's room just across the hall. Now these three were beyond drunk. They saw me and I knew that as drunk as they were l wasn't safe, they had lust on their pickled brains. They trapped me in the alcove, one was attempting to go up my dress and another was feeling my breast through my bra and dress. I was beginning to panic! The guys and I both heard "Hey, hey hey!" A guy who was at least 6 foot 3 inches tall was coming to my aid! "Move along, this doesn't concern you!" The guy that had his hand up my dress slurred! "Well attempted rape does concern me, besides I can tell from this girls face, she isn't into it as much as you three are." "Are you deaf? The guy slurred again, I said leave!" The guy that was my rescuer was sideways and he hit that guy that just moment before had his hand up my dress. He hit him with the pinkie side of his hand, still it had surprised even me at how fast and hard it had connected with the drunk guys face! He was down and his eyes were glazed over he wasn't a threat to me anymore. The other two seeing their leader out like that, they lost their courage and ran like the devil himself was after them. "Are you okay they haven't hurt you have they?" The guy asked? "No, I think they were too drunk to get it up for sex! Thank god you came by, when I first saw them I knew they were up to no good!" She said! "My name is Russell Irons" as he offered me his hand to help me step over the guy who was out cold still. "My name is Nancy Adams. Nice to meet you!" I said. After I was safe the guy on the ground came to he sat and looked up and up at the guy who had hit him he saw me and looked for his guys that were with him, not seeing them he kind of scooted away, still staring at the guy who had bested him. He was still backwards crawling on the ground. When he was far enough away he stood up and was attempting to stare Russell down. Russell said "Boo!" Then he kind of flinched in the guys direction. He turned and ran. My parting shot was "Not so tough now; are ya!" Russell escorted me back to the Reception, I couldn't see the three anymore. I did see Russell, he was in his chef clothes and was slicing the Roast Beef and Turkey and he was the server for that. Damned he was handsome! I slipped him my name and telephone number "Call me please!" I wasn't in the habit of giving guys my phone number! Just Russell!

While it is the first of the stories about Maggie, this story (as well as story number 2, 3 and 4) are not necessary to read . They are a failed experiment in weirdness where I ended up writing myself into a corner. The whole series is rebooted in story number 5, so if these stories aren't your cup of tea, you can safely skip ahead. I promise I won't get angry (just very, very disappointed😉) As with my other stories, this series has an entry on my index post. ---------------------------------- Just one more day of summer Maggie was frustrated. It had been a long day of boring lectures. Maggie felt that if somebody could make even the 1960s sound like a boring time, they really shouldn't be allowed to teach. Especially at the beginning of the semester. They'd pose a suicide risk for the students. She had told her boyfriend Christopher that over lunch. Well, he wasn't really her boyfriend; they were more like friends with benefits. He had made all the right, sympathetic noises, but she knew he'd been ogling one of the new psychology professors. Maggie had to snap her fingers in Christopher's face to wake him up. She had said that she didn't really blame him for looking; after all, it was impressive how she looked like she was in her early thirties while she had to be at least a decade older, but that hadn't been true. She had been feeling down and looking for some sympathy, not a not-quite-boyfriend who couldn't keep his attention on her for two minutes. In hindsight she regretted not just getting up and leaving right there and then. Instead she had played the part of the loyal friend and stuck around until Christopher had had to leave for class. After that, Maggie had had to endure another couple of classes that thankfully weren't quite as bad as the history lecture, but they had still been annoyingly tedious. Add to that four hours of work, and by the time Maggie returned to her tiny apartment, she was just about ready to strangle someone. She really wasn't cut out for work in the retail sector, particularly during back-to-school sales. Even flying around Azeroth on her favourite World of Warcraft character failed to relax her. There was really only one thing to do: Maggie went to bed early. For Maggie, getting ready for bed when she was feeling like this was a little more elaborate than normally. She started by pulling out the bottom towel from the neatly folded stack in her tiny bathroom. It was the biggest and softest of them all and she always made sure to put it at the bottom of the stack so she wouldn't grab it by mistake. Maggie moved the table out of the way, pulled out the sleeper sofa and quickly made the bed. Next she spread the towel out on the bed and folded it several times. After stripping, she sat down on the towel and pulled it up between her legs. She slipped her feet into a pair of oversized granny panties and pulled them up so they held the towel in place. Maggie didn't need the diaper, but for some reason she liked the feeling of being padded; she always had. The thicker the better. If she couldn't bring her legs together, that was perfect. She had lost count of how often she had woken up with most of her duvet stuffed between her legs when she was younger. As she grew older, she had begun to do it intentionally before she fell asleep. At first just using a blanket or her duvet, but eventually she switched to towels. Maggie had never shared this with anyone, but whenever she was stressed or upset, the temptation was always there. And more often than not, she acted on it. Maggie could almost feel the tension leave her body as she lay on her bed, the evening sun peeking in around the edges of her curtains and the warm summer air making a slight sheen of sweat appear on her skin. She slipped a hand inside her diaper and lazily played with herself while she listened to the traffic outside. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep. Maggie awoke with a start and found she couldn't move. She was completely paralysed as a cool draught raised goosebumps on her clammy skin. Some oddly calm corner of her mind worried how it would look if somebody saw her like this: Wearing a big diaper and with one hand inside it. If Chris saw me like this, I'd never hear the end of it. Maggie's thoughts were interrupted by a metallic gurgling sound. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the mirror next to the door. It looked less like a mirror and more like a vertical pool of mercury. Part of its surface was oozing down the wall to form a shiny puddle on the floor. Then something rose out of the puddle; human-shaped, but with a mirror finish. The annoyingly detached and nerdy part of Maggie's mind noted that it was just like the T-1000 terminator. Its surface dulled and it turned around and it was... her. It looked exactly like Maggie. It was wearing the same bulky diaper and granny panties; it even had the same tattoo of a fox barely visible over the waistband of the panties, except it was on the wrong hip. The mirror image walked over to the bed and sat down next to Maggie who pretended to be asleep, peering out through almost closed eyes. It wasn't very hard since she couldn't really move anything else anyway. "Oh stop that," the mirror image said. "I know you're awake." She reached out and brushed the hair out of Maggie's face. Maggie felt her muscles relaxing as the paralysis began to fade away. She tried to pull her hand out of her diaper, but the mirror image stopped her. "Just leave it there for now. We both know you like that." "How?" Maggie whispered. "Well, duh! I thought that'd be obvious by now. I know that your cellphone pin number is your birthday backwards, divided by three. I know you almost flunked history last term." The mirror image reached down to touch her own tattoo. "I know who held your hand while you got this and how you still have a bottle of her shampoo in your bathroom." She stroked Maggie's cheek. "I know everything about you because I am you." "I meant how is this poss.. Hang on, I do not have a bottle of Susan's shampoo," Maggie protested. "No, you're right. It's her conditioner. But that's not what's important; nor is how I'm here. What matters is why I'm here." "And why is that?" Maggie was slowly trying to slide away. "You had a crap day. you were annoyed that summer is almost over and that you're back in school with all the drama that entails. You wanted some sympathy and maybe a good hug, but that dumbass Chris was too busy thinking about that hottie professor." "Yeah," Maggie admitted reluctantly. "So I'm here to make you a deal." The mirror image took Maggie's hand in hers and looked into her eyes. "Do you remember when you were little? When summers lasted almost forever and you didn't have to worry about anything?" "Yeah?" "Wouldn't you like that again?" The mirror image slowly stroked Maggie's hand. "No stupid job or classes to go to; no responsibilities. Not a care in the world." "Mm-hm," Maggie said dreamily "I can make it that way again," the mirror image said and rose from the bed. "Take my hand." In a daze, Maggie swung her legs out of bed and got up. She walked behind the other Maggie towards the mirror, holding her hand. The mirror was so narrow that her mirror image had to step through it sideways, vanishing through the slowly rippling surface. When she pulled Maggie along and her hand made contact with the mirror, she expected it to feel cold, but it didn't. It felt more like a warm, heavy mist or fog. Maggie closed her eyes as she stepped through and when she opened them again she was still standing in her apartment, except it was different somehow. It took her a couple of moments to notice a magazine on the table, but then she realised that everything was mirrored. "Come along now," said the mirror image. Or was Maggie the mirror image on this side of the mirror? Still holding the other Maggie's hand with one hand and holding up the sagging towel diaper with the other, Maggie followed Other Maggie through the door. They emerged in the middle of a small clearing surrounded by trees. Looking back, Maggie saw a small shed. Other Maggie was saying something, but Maggie was still mesmerised by the surroundings. She bent down and picked one of the flowers next to her bare foot. "It's incredible. This even smells real." Maggie breathed deeply smelling grass and wildflowers. "It is real," Other Maggie said. Now come along. There's somebody I want you to meet." ""Like this?!?" Maggie suddenly became aware of what she was wearing. "Oh, nobody will mind. No worries, remember?" Other Maggie took Maggie's hand and pulled her along into the forest. When they came out of the forest, they were at the top of a small hill. Below them was a large house, a pond and a large garden with big trees. "We just missed lunch, but there should be some food left." When they came closer, Maggie realised that everything about the house was a little scaled up. The windows were just a foot higher up than usual, the door was bigger, the steps up the porch was just a little too high to easily walk up. It all gave her the distinct feeling of being smaller than usual. Other Maggie opened the door and walked in, pulling a acutely self-conscious Maggie along. Inside was a kitchen with the same oversized tables and chairs. There was a giant of a woman putting plates and glasses in the sink. She must have been almost seven feet tall and looked like she was in her early fifties. She had that air about her that grandmothers do, even though she was a little young for it. "Hey Mom, look who finally came to join us," Other Maggie said. She turned to Maggie and whispered: "Her real name's Eliza, but she likes it when we call her Mom." "Maggie!" Eliza exclaimed and came over to give Maggie a hug. "We've been waiting for so long. Let me have a look at you." Maggie unsuccessfully tried to cover up her bare chest and the diapers. "Nonononono, that simply won't do. Come with me, dear." Eliza took Maggie's hand and led her out of the kitchen and down the hall to a bathroom. "You hop up here," she said and patted what looked like a piece of the kitchen counter. Maggie realised that it was a giant changing table and just stood there in front of it, dumbstruck. "Oh come on now. You're a big too big for me to lift you." Maggie looked around and saw a stool next to the changing table. She used it to clamber up onto the table and sat there with her feet dangling over the edge. "Lie back dear," Eliza said as she grabbed Maggie's legs and slid her further back. Maggie lay back on the smooth, warm surface. "Are you still dry?" she asked and unceremoniously slipped a couple of fingers inside Maggie's diaper. Maggie jumped. "Hey," she blurted out. "Of course I am." Eliza pulled the granny panties and towel diaper off Maggie in one quick yank, leaving her naked and desperately trying to cover up. "Oh come now. It's nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before," she said. "Now lift your butt." Without thinking Maggie did as she was told and Eliza slid a diaper under butt. She quickly pulled it up between her legs and taped the whole thing in place. The whole operation took only seconds. She helped Maggie sit up and Maggie looked down at the teddy bear print. This is so weird. She reached down to touch it, somehow doubting that any of this was real. The plastic backing rustled softly when she did. "Now, let's see if this doesn't fit you." Eliza held up a light blue summer dress. She slipped it over Maggie's head and helped her with the sleeves before helping her down from the changing table. "Now you go outside and play with the others." Maggie walked back to the kitchen and out onto the porch, wondering what Eliza had meant by 'the others'. But once she set foot outside, she heard excited voices from the other side of the house. She tip-toed to the corner and peeked around it. By the pond she could see four children playing. No, not children. They were adults dressed as children. Then it struck her: So was she. Maggie crept closer, ducking behind bushes until she was close enough to hear what they were talking about. It seemed the three of them, two girls and a boy, were having an argument about some kind of race in the brook that fed the pond. Eventually, they decided that the only way to settle it was another race. They picked up their crude wooden boats and ran upstream. "I can see you, you know." Maggie froze. "Oh come on. That blue dress isn't exactly camouflage." Feeling like she had been caught trespassing, Maggie slowly emerged from behind her bush to see who had spoken. It was another boy. No, not boy; man. He was maybe in his late twenties, average height, a little chubby, with a deep tan and mop of curly brown hair. All in all not entirely unattractive, Maggie thought. He was sitting on a stone with his knees pulled up and his arms around them. "Um, hi?" "Hi, I'm Tommy." "Maggie." "So, you're gonna want to have a seat for the today's grand final of the race," Tommy said wearily. "I think the score is like a thousand points to Maria and a thousand points to Jacob." "So they're tied?" Maggie sat down on the stone next to Tommy. "I have no idea, I've lost count. But they should have time to finish before the rain starts." "What do you mean?" "See that cloud over there?" Tommy pointed towards the mountains in the distance. "The one that sort of looks like a fish." "Yeah?" "When it's on the other side of that mountaintop, it'll start to rain." "How do you know that?" Maggie looked at Tommy. He sighed. "That's how it is every day. It'll start to rain and we go inside to play. It'll stop halfway through dinner." "What do you mean 'every day'?" "Every day is the same here. I've tried to figure out the routine, but this place gets inside your head. Makes you forget numbers and letters and-" "Who're you?" A voice interrupted from behind them. Maggie turned around to see one of the two girls that had run off earlier. "Uh..." Maggie was a little thrown by the childish appearance of the young woman. While she might be around twenty, she was wearing a pink dress so short her diaper peeked out below the hem. She had mussed-up, blonde hair and a couple of dirty smudges on her cheeks and forehead. "Charlotte, this is Maggie," Tommy said. "Maggie, Charlotte." "Like the thpider," she lisped "She's been here a while," Tommy whispered. "Like I said, this place gets inside your head." "Will you be my friend?" Charlotte looked up at Maggie with a wide-eyed, innocent expression. "Um, sure," Maggie answered. "Yay!" Charlotte shouted and threw her arms around Maggie to give her a hug. The unrestrained enthusiasm surprised Maggie, but she returned the hug, rubbing Charlotte's back. "Does this mean you'll stop bugging me now?" a voice asked snidely. When Maggie looked to see who had spoken she saw a girl with olive skin and long black hair. She was wearing overalls and a red t-shirt and was carrying a wooden boat. "I guess you must be Maria," Maggie said. "I'm Maggie." "Ooooo, look at you talkin' all fancy," Maria replied and rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to her Maggie. She's just being a meanie," Charlotte said, frowning at Maria. She grabbed Maggie's hand and pulled her towards the garden. "Come on, I wanna show you something." Charlotte dragged Maggie around the entire garden, showing her the apple tree and the patch of strawberry plants. She was just about to lead Maggie back to the pond when the first raindrops began to fall. Maggie glanced towards the mountains and just like Tommy had said, the fish-shaped cloud was just past the top of it. Maggie followed a squealing Charlotte back to the house. She darted from tree to tree in an attempt to stay dry in the steadily increasing downpour. Charlotte on the other hand danced along the path and jumped in a couple of the small puddles that had formed by the time they reached the porch. When they reached the kitchen, Maria and Jacob were sitting by the kitchen table colouring. Jacob was concentrating with his tongue out. Tommy was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Tommy?" Maggie asked. Maria gave her a quick look before she returned to her colouring book. "Momma's changing him." Charlotte had already climbed onto one of the oversized chairs and started hoarding the blue and green crayons, but Maggie didn't feel like colouring. So she decided to explore the house instead. She found a large living room on the ground floor and bedrooms and an additional bathroom on the first floor. When she made her way up the steep staircase to the attic, however, she found something odd. Somebody had tied some string between the backs of two chairs and put a blanket over it, creating a small tent. Well, small compared to the chairs; it was more than big enough for Maggie. The tent itself wasn't really all that strange, but inside she found a shoe box filled with papers. Leafing through them, Maggie saw mathematical equations and calculations far more advanced than what she understood, but the closer she came to the top of the stack, the simpler the maths became. Eventually, the numbers were replaced by unidentifiable squiggles and then there were drawings of flowers. Bluebells to be precise. Sometimes a single flower, other times whole fields of them. "Do you like them?" Maggie almost jumped out of her skin. Charlotte was kneeling in the opening to the tent. She crawled in and sat down next to Maggie, taking the stack of papers from her. "You did that?" Charlotte nodded. "I wasn't very good at first, but Momma said that if I practised I would get better. And I did, see?" She picked up a new drawing from the floor outside the tent and held it up for Maggie. It was a picture of two stick figures in a green field dotted with blue flowers. One was wearing a pink dress and the other a blue one. "I made it for you," Charlotte said. "Um, thanks." "Come on, Momma said it's dinnertime." Charlotte crawled out of the tent, giving Maggie a perfect view of her soiled diaper as she did. The two girls joined Tommy and Jacob in putting away the crayons and colouring books. They were almost done when Eliza and Maria came back from the downstairs bathroom. "OK, anybody else need a change before dinner?" Eliza asked matter-of-factly. Charlotte looked away and scraped her foot on the floor. "Me," she said quietly. "Charlotte made a stinky! Charlotte made a stinky!" Maria began singing. Maggie could see that it upset Charlotte who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. For some reason she felt oddly protective of her. "Quit picking on her." "Yeah," Tommy chimed in. "Stop being a meanie." "Maria!" Eliza said sternly. Maria stopped immediately. "Sorry," she mumbled, not sounding very sincere. Charlotte however didn't notice and went off with Eliza. Maggie sat down next to Tommy. "So you're all wearing diapers?" she asked quietly. "Yeah. That's the first thing to go. Then it's numbers and letters like I told you. And finally you don't even remember anything from before." He nodded slightly towards Maria and Jacob. "That doesn't sound so bad. I mean, apart from the diapers this place doesn't sound all that bad." "Are you kidding? It's the same day over and over and over. The rain starts at the same time every day." He pointed out the window. "And by the time Mom puts the rest of the food back on the stove, it'll stop raining. Then just after sunset it'll get kinda windy. Tomorrow morning, just after breakfast, a big fish is going to jump in the pond, and so on and so on. Every day is the same and every day you feel a little of yourself slip away." "How long have you been here?" "Shhh," Tommy said as Eliza and Charlotte returned. "She doesn't like us talking about that." Charlotte sat down next to Maggie. Her face was cleaned up and her hair was in pigtails. Eliza looked at Maggie. "How about you dear? Are you sure you don't need a change?" Maggie nodded. "OK then," Eliza said and began putting plates on the table. During dinner, Eliza had the children talk about what they had done that day. The stew was tasty, but a little bland. After they were done, Eliza rose to put the big pot back on the stove. Tommy gave Maggie a nudge and glanced towards the window. Outside, the rain had stopped and clouds had parted to show a rosy sky. ~~~ After dinner, Tommy, Charlotte and Maggie retreated to the attic. Charlotte lay on the floor, drawing, while Tommy and Maggie sat in the tent. "OK," Maggie said, "so the days really are repeating themselves." "Mm-hm." "And you keep forgetting your old life, little by little?" Tommy nodded. "Well, how quickly does it happen? I'm guessing you've been here the shortest." "Actually, Jacob came after me. I think you lose yourself more quickly if you don't resist and he just went along with it from day one. Almost like he was running away from something." "So that's what you've been doing? Fighting it?" Charlotte scowled at them. "Momma says 'no fighting'," she said solemnly. "It's OK Charlotte, we're not fighting." "Um, 'kay," she said and returned to her drawing. "So, how long have you been 'enjoying' this summer?" Maggie made air quotes. "I don't think 'enjoying' is the right word, and why were you doing that thing with your hands?" "What do you me- Oh, the air quotes. They mean ... Look, never mind that. How long?" "I don't know," Tommy said. "Numbers, remember?" "OK, let's try something else then. Do you get older when you're here?" Tommy shrugged. "I don't think so." "So what do you remember from before you came here. Do you remember who's president?" "I'm not sure. Kind of a goofy-looking guy. Really short name." "Bush?" Maggie suggested. "Yeah, that's it. Bush." "That means you've been here m-" "And that other guy," Tommy interrupted, "he'd fit right in here. He couldn't spell either." "What do you mean?" "I don't know how to do it now, but 'potato'?" "Oh my god. You meant Bush One. You've been here for..." Maggie paused longer than she normally would have had to , "...more than 25 years?" Tommy just sat there, looking more and more uncertain. "I don't know," he mumbled. For a few minutes, they just sat there. The only sound was the scratching sound of Charlotte's crayons and the wind picking up outside. "So how do we get out of here?" Maggie finally asked. "I don't know. I don't even know if I ever knew. It's like I'm trapped in a dark cellar." "Why don't you just go back up the stairs?" Charlotte asked, putting down her crayons. "It's not really a cellar Charlotte," Tommy said with a sigh. "Hang on," Maggie said. She grabbed Tommy's arm. "How did you get here? "I'm not sure," he said hesitantly. "It's all so fuzzy. It's like it's me, but not me. Like-" "A mirror image," they both said. "What do you mean?" Tommy asked. "We try what Charlotte suggested. We go out the way we came in. We'll just have to hope that it works for all of us." "So where is this way out then?" "Up the hill and into the woods," Maggie said vaguely. "That's it? We're never going to find it in the dark." "OK my little munchkins, it's bedtime," Eliza's voice called from downstairs. "But mooooom..." Charlotte complained. "Now now, tomorrow's another day." "Okay," she said dejectedly and headed for the stairs. Tommy and Maggie followed close behind. When they came down, Eliza kneeled down and wiped a smudge off Maggie's cheek. "I set up your bed in Charlotte's room since you two are such good friends already." Charlotte squealed with delight at the news. Eliza handed Maggie a toothbrush. "Now you go brush your teeth while I get Charlotte ready. And Tommy, once I'm done with Charlotte it's your turn to have a bath." "Again?" Tommy whined, suddenly sounding more like a kid than before. The look Eliza gave him clearly told him that the matter was not up for discussion. "OK mom," he said and headed downstairs. Maggie went to the bathroom and, standing on a stool, she barely managed to reach the shelf where the toothpaste was. It was hard to control the oversized toothpaste tube and she ended up squeezing out a lot more than she intended. After she was done, Maggie took off her dress and tried to take off her diaper, but the tapes just didn't want to come loose. She even tried to wiggle out of them, but despite feeling somewhat loose, the didn't want to go down past her hips. Nor could she push it to the side to pee. The more she tried, the greater the urge became, until it was almost painful. She finally accepted the fact that the diaper was not going anywhere. She was going to have to wet it; and soon. Maggie was just standing still, almost holding her breath when she heard footsteps and Charlotte's happy chattering. OK, if I wet it now, I can get changed right away. That won't be so bad. Maggie tried to let go, but couldn't. Then she had an idea. She sat down on the toilet. The feeling of the toilet seat was enough of a sense memory to let Maggie let go. She felt a warm rush surround her crotch and seep towards her butt. Maggie slid off the toilet, feeling the warm squish of her diaper just as the door opened and Eliza peeked in. "So," she asked, "are you still dry?" obviously seeing that Maggie wasn't. "No," Maggie said, almost whispering. Shame and frustration at having had to wet herself almost made her want to cry. Eliza knelt in front of Maggie and stroked her cheek. "Don't cry, dear. That's what they're there for. Come along; mommy'll make it better." She took Maggie's hand and led her out the door. Maggie tried to grab her dress before she leaving the bathroom. "Oh just leave it pumpkin. Nobody'll mind." Eliza led Maggie down the stairs. On the way, they passed Jacob and Maggie instinctively tried covered up her bare chest and diaper. Jacob, however, didn't even seem to notice that Maggie was topless. Once inside the downstairs bathroom, Eliza helped Maggie up on the giant changing table. Maggie winced at the squishy sensation as she sat down on the wet diaper. "Now lie back and we'll get you washed and ready for bed." Maggie lay back. Lying on the changing table wearing nothing but a wet diaper felt weird and humiliating; almost like she was on display. She desperately wanted something to cover up with. While Eliza undid the tapes and pulled off the diaper, she hummed a melody that was annoyingly familiar, but Maggie couldn't place it. The whole situation felt so awkward that Maggie just closed her eyes. She almost jumped when she felt a warm wetness on her crotch. "Wha-" "Shh baby. Mommy just has to wash you so you don't get sore." The childish tone only made Maggie feel more awkward. Eliza dried and powdered Maggie before quickly putting a new diaper on her. "There we are. Doesn't that feel all better?" she asked, giving Maggie's crotch a quick pat before helping her down from the changing table. The new diaper was much thicker than the one she had worn before. Maggie couldn't even bring her legs all the way together and had to waddle slightly when she walked. "Why is it so much thicker than the other one," she asked. "We wouldn't want any leaks at night, would we?" "I guess," Maggie admitted. "Now, did you brush your teeth?" Maggie only nodded in reply. She was still fascinated with the extra bulk between her legs. It felt very different from the extra thick towel diapers she had experimented with. Eliza took Maggie's hand. "Okay then, off to bed we go." Charlotte was standing in the doorway to one of the rooms when they came up the stairs. Like Maggie, she was also wearing nothing but a diaper. "Well hello there little munchkin. Why aren't you in bed yet, and where's your nightdress?" Eliza asked. "It's too hot," Charlotte said, looking down and biting the tip of her thumb. "I guess you're right," Eliza said. "But hop in bed now." "Okay," Charlotte chirped and ducked back inside. Eliza and Maggie followed her. The room wasn't very big. There was a dresser by the wall opposite the door and a bed on either side. By the foot of each bed was a toy box. Everything was oversized and painted in cheery colours. Charlotte was already in the bed on the left. Eliza tucked them both in and kissed them good night. It was years since Maggie had gone to bed this early, but for some reason she was so tired that it didn't take her more than a few minutes before she fell asleep. Maggie woke up from somebody shaking her shoulder. For a moment she looked around in the gloom, having forgotten where she was, then she saw who had woken her up. Charlotte was standing next to her bed, clutching a worn teddy bear to her chest with one arm. "What is it Charlotte?" "Can we sleep with you? Mr Bear thinks it's scary when it's dark and windy." "OK, sure," Maggie mumbled and lifted the duvet. Charlotte crawled into bed and lay down next to her, snuggling close. Maggie pulled the duvet over them both and wrapped an arm protectively around Charlotte who was already half asleep with her thumb in her mouth. ~~~ When Maggie woke up, she was lying pressed against the wall. Charlotte was lying on her stomach; arms and legs spread as if she was skydiving, yet still managing to snore softly. Maggie caught a whiff of something and made the mistake of lifting the duvet. The smell that hit her nostrils made it quite clear what Charlotte had done. Maggie carefully made her way around Charlotte to get out of bed. She looked out of the window at the beautiful day outside. The sun was shining from a blue sky with only a few fluffy clouds. She opened the window to let in the fresh air. Or let out the smell. What had that girl been eating? Outside, the birds were singing. Maggie leaned on the windowsill and listened to the world waking up. Suddenly her crotch grew warm as she wet herself. Maggie was shocked. She hadn't noticed that she needed to pee until it was too late. Also, she didn't find wearing a wet diaper anywhere near as distasteful as she had the day before. This place is affecting me already. I have to get out of here. Charlotte stirred and stopped snoring and Maggie walked over to the bed. She knelt next to it, taking care not to put weight on her diaper. "Good morning Charlotte," Maggie said, carefully brushing the hair out of Charlotte's face. "Did Mr Bear sleep well?" she added. "Morning." Charlotte started to roll over on her back, but Maggie stopped her. "Can you keep a secret?" Maggie asked quietly. "Mm-hm." Charlotte nodded. "Me and Tommy are going on a treasure hunt today." Charlotte perked up. "Can I come too?" "Of course you can, but we can't tell anybody. Especially Eliza." "Who?" "Mom," Maggie corrected. "It'll be our secret. Just you and me and Tommy." "Okay. So where is it?" "Where is what?" "The treasure." "Oh. Um... We don't know." Charlotte looked confused. "That's why we're looking for it. I mean, it wouldn't really be a treasure hunt if we knew where it was, would it?" Maggie added. The answer seemed to satisfy Charlotte. "Come on, let's see if Mom is up so we can get you changed." Maggie helped Charlotte up and they headed downstairs. They were halfway down the stairs before Maggie realised that they were both wearing nothing but diapers. "Wait here," Maggie said and darted back up the stairs as quickly as the swollen diaper and slightly too big steps would allow. She returned with a couple of nightdresses from the dresser, but Charlotte was already downstairs and headed for the kitchen. Maggie quickly pulled one of the dresses over her head and followed her. It was a little too small so she couldn't quite get it over the diaper, but didn't really care as long as her breasts were hidden. She didn't really want to run around topless even if nobody else seemed to care about that. Maggie followed Charlotte through the kitchen and out onto the porch. There, sitting on the porch swing in the morning sun was Eliza. "Morning Momma," Charlotte said and gave her a hug. Eliza sniffed the air. "Smells like one of you need a change." She looked at Maggie. "Or maybe both of you?" Eliza got up from the swing and took Charlotte's hand. "Come on munchkin. Let's get you cleaned up." It took a while, but eventually Eliza and Charlotte returned. Charlotte was wearing the same type of short dress as the day before, except it was pale yellow today, and her hair was back in pigtails. Maggie was next and in no time at all, she was washed and powdered. Eliza held up two diapers for her. "So, teddy bears?" she wiggled one of the diapers. "Or do you want the pretty flowers?" she wiggled the other. Maggie decided it was probably best to play along to avoid raising suspicion. She pretended to think about it for a few moments and then she gave a little giggle and pointed at the diaper with the flower prints. "El... I mean, Mom?" "Yes dear?" Maggie wrinkled her nose. "I don't like dresses. Can I have pants like Maria? Pretty please?" she said, knowing that if she was going to be walking around the forest, she wanted pants and not a dress that would get caught on everything. "Are you sure? You looked so pretty in your dress yesterday." "Mm-hm." Maggie nodded. "Well OK, but then you have to remember to let me know if you have to go poopies." "Like now?" Maggie asked, feigning innocence. "Oh, you have to go now?" Maggie nodded in reply and was quickly helped off the changing table and to the toilet. Sitting down and letting go felt better than in a long time. Still, Maggie was surprised at how little it bothered her to be doing this in front of someone who was essentially a stranger. This place is really getting to me. Minutes later, Maggie was washed, powdered, diapered and back in the kitchen. She was wearing overalls with colourful patches sewn on the bib and on one of the knees. Charlotte was sitting by the table drawing something. Maggie looked over her shoulder. In the middle of the paper was a house. "What's that?" "It's a treasure map of course. We can't go on a treasure hunt without a treasure map" "Ah, of course," Maggie said. "Why didn't I think of that?" She sat down next to Charlotte and helped her with the map, drawing trees along the edges. Eliza went back outside and for a while it was just the two of them. The house seemed almost cosy; even if it repeated the same day over and over. Stop that! Maggie shook her head to clear it. As the others waddled through the kitchen door, Eliza got them changed and dressed and soon enough, it was time for breakfast. It had been ages since Maggie had oatmeal porridge for breakfast, but she had to admit that it was not only delicious, but also filling. By the time she was done, she felt as though she had a stomach full of concrete. Walking was almost a little uncomfortable. Eliza sent all the children outside to play while she cleaned up. Maria and Jacob found their boats and headed off for another round in their apparently eternal race. "I still don't see why they can't come along," Maggie told Tommy as soon as they were out of earshot. "Maria would rat us out in a heartbeat. We wouldn't be able to trust her." "Yeah, she's a big, old, meanie doody-head," Charlotte chimed in. "And Jacob? He seems like a nice enough guy." Tommy nodded. "He is. But you didn't see him when he came here. As bad as this place is, I think he had it worse back home." "Are you sure?" Maggie still felt bad for leaving the two behind. "As sure as I can be." Maggie sighed. "OK then. So it's just the three of us," she said and started up the hill she had come down only the day before. Once they reached the trees, Charlotte pulled out her map and started walking off to the left. Maggie had to stop her and point out that she was holding the map wrong every couple of minutes. As the walked deeper into the forest twigs and branches began to get caught in their clothes and the ground changed. It was no longer the smooth dirt that was easy on their bare feet. All of a sudden, pebbles and and prickly, dry grass appeared. "I think we're on the right track," Tommy said. "It's almost as if the forest doesn't want us to walk this way." Maggie agreed. Charlotte sat down on a big root. "I don't wanna do this any more. It's no fun," she complained. "What's in this treasure anyway?" Maggie saw that they were about to lose Charlotte. She sat down next to her. "You know how it's summer now," she said. Charlotte nodded. "Don't you miss the winter? Snowmen, snow angels, hot chocolate..." "And Christmas?" Charlotte said, her eyes lighting up. "Yeah. And Christmas. That's what's in the treasure: Winter." That seemed to be enough to motivate Charlotte so they continued onwards. After quite a while and two tears in Charlotte's dress, they found the clearing. Maggie thought the shed in the middle looked a lot creepier now than it had yesterday. "The treasure's in there?" Charlotte asked nervously as she tried to hide behind Maggie. "I think so." Maggie took a step forwards and all of a sudden the summer day didn't feel quite as nice and warm. There was a clammy chill in the air. "I'm scared," Charlotte complained. "I don't like this place. I want Mr Bear." "You can hold my hand Charlotte," Maggie said and held out her hand. " "M'kay," she said, grabbing the hand, but still walking behind Maggie and Tommy. Maggie didn't need to look back to understand that while she was holding one hand, the thumb of the other hand was firmly in Charlotte's mouth. "You know what Charlotte," Maggie said, trying to sound cheerful. "I think it's supposed to be scary. After all, it wouldn't be a real treasure hunt if it wasn't, would it?" Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached the door. Maggie pushed it open to reveal a brilliant golden light. "Do you guys see that too?" Maggie asked. "Uh-huh." "What's that light?" Charlotte wondered. Tommy took a step forward. "Be careful," Maggie warned. "We don't know if it'll work." "Honestly, either way it'll be better than staying here," he said and walked into the light. "Tommy?" Maggie called after a few seconds, but there was no answer. The only sound was a steadily growing rumble behind them. Maggie glanced back over her shoulder and saw that the perfect blue sky was filled with dark clouds, and lightning flashing more and more frequently. "Come on Charlotte. We have to go too," Maggie said "But I'm scared." "It's OK. I'll hold your hand all the way. And I promise I won't let go." They took another step closer. Maggie held her breath as they stepped across the threshold and into the light. For a brief moment there was the sensation of falling, and then nothing. ~~~ A light woke Maggie up. She yawned and stretched, peering into the pre-dawn gloom to see the familiar things in her tiny apartment. Outside, the street light were swaying in the wind. Wow! That was a crazy dream. She untangled herself from the sheet and sat up. That's when she saw it. She wasn't wearing the towel diaper, but a big, puffy diaper with a cheerful flower print. And it was wet.

Long time lurker. This is the first story I have written. Writing isn’t my strength, and It takes me forever to write, re-read, and rewrite. I have already written 20 chapters. I hope everyone finds this story different but interesting. This is a slow burn, but it does get into the diapers and regression. It will take a few chapters to really get into it. I can see this going for at least another 20 chapters on top of the twenty chapters already written. Chapter 1: The New Intern Avery let out a deep sigh of relief as he read the email he had just received from the biomedical technology department. He was finally being recognized for his hard work and dedication. His complex calculations and programming to demonstrate the interactions between a relatively new drug and a person's DNA had proven correct and valuable, leading to him being hired over a month ago - despite the doubt and ridicule from his colleagues. He leaned back in his chair, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. On the one hand, he was elated that his efforts were beginning to be acknowledged, but on the other hand, he felt uncertain if this would lead to further respect or more challenges from those who never believed in him. A sense of pride mixed with apprehension began to stir within him, thoughts of the potential applications of this research tumbling through his mind. Ever since Avery Sage was a little boy, he has experienced problems with keeping his pants dry. Maybe it had something to do with the car accident that claimed the lives of his parents. Perhaps the foster homes he cycled through caused him stress, or maybe he would have always had this problem. All he knew for sure was that he needed to wear protection when out in public because when he got stressed, his bladder gave way. As a result, whenever he left the security of his home, he wore pull-ups, which made him feel like a little kid and dampened his confidence. His confidence wasn't helped because he was only five foot and one inch tall for a young man. These anxieties certainly didn’t help his mental health. He suffered from depression, anxiety, and insomnia. He regularly saw a psychiatrist and was on medication, but life could still be a struggle. He thought back to his first week of work. Avery graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics and Biochemistry at the age of 18. A year later, he was offered an internship while working on his master's in Biochemistry and Genetics. Avery stepped through the doors of DNA Pharmacia, feeling equal parts nervousness and excitement. He had been preparing for this moment his whole life – the chance to finally earn some respect and prove all those who had doubted him wrong. Flashbacks filled his mind of all the running between foster care families he had endured; it had made his self-confidence falter, but nonetheless provided the motivation for him to finish high school years early and break free from the wings of his current foster family. Now was the time to show what he was made of. As Avery sat in the HR office, he wore his dress clothes for his first day, which was saying much– a little too large for his slim, small frame – but still managing to make him feel small and helpless against the world around him. People seemed to look through him everywhere he went as if he were invisible, yet he couldn't shake off the nagging sensation that all eyes were upon him. His shoulders sagged under the weight of defeat that shrouded his self-confidence. His wavery, untamed hair was combed back the best it could be. “Ok, Avery.” Julian, the HR representative, said. “You're done. You're officially an employee of DNA Pharmacia.” “I won’t let you down. I promise.” Avery smiled as he stood up and reached across the desk to shake Julian’s hand. Julian's expression was warm and encouraging as he shook Avery's hand. Julian was a tall, distinguished man in his late thirties, wearing a navy blue suit and a striped tie. His brown eyes twinkle with kindness, and he has a slight, friendly smirk while speaking to Avery. His handshake was firm but slightly frail, making Avery feel nervous that he had no idea if he could uphold such a promise. Doesn't everyone think that on their first day at work? Avery thought to himself. Julian just smiled back at him from his kind face, like he could read Avery's mind. “Great, I am hoping for good things from you. Shall I show you to your new desk and department?” Julian returned the smile. “Yes, please,” Avery followed Julian out of the room. They took two flights up in the elevator to a department called “Chemical DNA Sequencing Department.” and walked side-by-side down the long corridors of the main building. They passed glass panels on every wall and Avery marveled at how modern this building was. He watched sensors scanning vials of chemicals and equipment, feeding data into computers across the room. It was clear no money had been spared in making DNA a cutting-edge company. Every window they passed made him want to stop and ask what was happening; it all looked so exciting, and he couldn’t wait to start. All this made him forget that he secretly wore a pull-up underneath his clothes as protection was needed. It was down one of these corridors that Avery met an older man. The man had a strong jawline and sharp features, aged but wise. His eyes were a deep blue, crinkling at the corners when he smiled. His gray hair was neatly trimmed, and his beard was flecked with silver. He wore a crisp white shirt with black trousers and polished black shoes. He towered over Avery with an air of authority, yet his demeanor was warm and friendly. Avery recognized him from some of the interviews he had gone through to land this job. “Welcome! You must be our marvelous new intern. I am Bryan Wells, and you'll report directly to me! At your desk we have a laptop and a corporate iPhone with the works waiting there for you. From your resume and job interviews, my colleagues have noticed your peculiar knack for math and biochemistry, so we have an exciting task ahead for you! On your desk is a folder that outlines our challenge: debug a computational logic program that looks at DNA to determine designer drugs for fighting cancer. It's a riddle waiting to be solved - think you can do it? Report back any bugs as soon as possible, and we'd be grateful!” Bryan said cheerfully as he led Avery to his desk. “Yes, sir,” Avery replied. He would have agreed to do whatever Bryan needed. He was eager to impress. Bryan continued to talk to Avery. It was a one-sided conversation. Avery was too in awe of everything he was seeing to really contribute much. For him, this place was like a dream—top-level research with some of the smartest people in the world where his work could actually help people. Avery looked around the room. A long row of cubicles ran down one wall with a dozen or so scientists already hard at work on their projects. Avery's desk was tucked into the corner by an emergency exit. The light blue walls were sparse, containing only a few motivational posters and pictures of animals from Earth. Bryan led him to his chair and showed him how he could adjust it to fit him since the chair was probably to tall for him. Avery blushed a little but said nothing about it. Bryan reviewed with him how to log in to the server and the IT policies on using company-issued equipment. Bryan also went over where the relevant programs were located; he would review the folder with all the notes on the development of this program. “If you need anything, come to find me over there,” Bryan pointed to his private office. “The other scientists and engineers should be coming around to introduce themselves to you today.” “Ok, sounds good… And thank you for this opportunity,” Avery said as Bryan returned to his office. On that first day, he met a few scientists and a few engineers. They all seemed friendly enough, even though Avery didn’t have much to say. He wanted to just focus on the task at hand. He felt he had something to prove. Avery had been dealt a tough hand; growing up in the foster care system meant that he was constantly met with obstacles and negative comments. He was told time and again what he couldn’t do, but instead of accepting those limitations as his fate, he used them as motivation. Everyone’s doubts about him only strengthened his desire to prove them all wrong. The rest of the day was slow. Avery needed help concentrating on the program he had been asked to look at. Quite frankly, it was dull, and after seeing all the other scientists and engineers doing much more exciting things, Avery was keen to do something that felt more meaningful. This need to do something drew him to the thick handbook about all the research involved with this program and more. He was fascinated with it. Avery brought the program to his apartment that night. He abstained from indulging in his usual nightly video game escapades. Instead, he spent hours poring over the computational intricacies of DNA's involvement in cancerous growths, absorbed in deciphering the energy states of cancer cells. The realization that this program was an amalgamation of these complex calculations completely captivated him, particularly as he examined how the drug had to be manipulated to match the energy state of the cancer cells so that it would interact effectively with them. It was nothing less than astounding. As he delved deeper into the notes, he discovered a vexing inconsistency in one of the mathematical formulas that disrupted the programming and prevented it from reaching a conclusion on what drug was needed for treatment. Avery closed the notebook for the night, satisfied he knew what he could start looking at and he was glad to be out of the pull-up for the day. As he lay in bed, his mind kept running through what he had read. His insomnia medication meant he wasn’t awake for long, but even in sleep, it felt like his brain was searching through everything he had learned the previous day. The morning came too quickly as his alarm went off. “Ugh, I hate mornings,” Avery muttered as he hit the snooze button repeatedly. The alarm kept ringing, and every time it did, Avery reached out a hand and hit the snooze button again. It was an almost instinctive reaction to the annoying noise. His brain wasn’t clicking into gear. All he knew was that he wanted more sleep. At one point, as the alarm went, Avery pawed at the snooze button yet again but only ended up knocking his phone off the bedside table. “Oh shit,” He said as he looked up at the clock. It was 7:30 a.m. He was supposed to be at work at 8:00 a.m. His alarm had been going on and off since 6:00 a.m. this morning. Avery quickly removed his boxers and slipped on new pull-ups, light gray tan dockers, and a maroon golf shirt. He quickly wet down his hair and combed it back, knowing it would still look like a mess when his hair dried. Avery quickly left to grab the bus to work at 7:30 a.m. and hopefully be at work at 8:00 am. It was a rush, and Avery didn’t feel particularly ready, but as he walked out of the front door into the early morning air. He didn’t know how anyone could be a “morning person” when he always felt… tired. That morning, when Avery got to work, the first thing he did was get a large cup of coffee. Afterward, he sat down at his desk and began to take a look at the code. The code wasn’t easy to follow. It didn’t follow too much of a logical path in his mind. Two hours later, John Taylor, the most Sr, Engineer on the project and project lead, stopped by his desk. John was a 45-year-old engineer with a commanding presence and an ego to match. He stood at an imposing 6'2" and had a burly build that spoke of years of physical labor. Despite his advancing age, his muscles were still firm, and his torso remained taut, reflecting an unwavering commitment to physical fitness. Avery thought John's walk exuded confidence, each step resonating with a deliberate thud. His posture was impeccable, with his chest puffed out and his chin held high. He had a square jaw and piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore through any obstacle in their way. This made Avery very anxious to be around him. He was very much the opposite of Avery, who was dressed in a pair of tan dockers and a collared maroon shirt That he had quickly thrown on minutes before leaving the house. If someone were to judge Avery. They would say he dressed not to cause a stir and just wanted to blend in. The differences between the timid Avery and John, who exuded machismo and confidence, couldn’t have been starker. John wore an expensive suit that hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his chiseled physique, a testament to his attention to detail and his love of the finer things in life. “Impressive work on one of my projects, huh?” John scowled as he snatched the notebook off his desk. “I wouldn't waste your time with all the irrelevant data scribbled in here. It'll do nothing but distract you.” He flicked it to the other side of his desk like an afterthought. Avery noticed John's hazel eyes were framed by creases that spoke to years of meticulous research studies and calculations. “I tried to get a grip on it, but honestly, I stumbled over the complex calculations necessary for developing designer drugs. Despite that, I was still captivated by the work yesterday." Avery sighed, not convinced of his own abilities to do this kind of research but determine to make a difference still. “Well, just weed out the bugs and get the program working. My team and I will take care of the rest.” Johns said with a condescending smile. “If you do that, you will do good here, kid!” “It’s just….” Avery started. He wanted to prove his knowledge by suggesting a change to the handbook. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.” John cut Avery off with ease. Avery felt a little put out by this overconfident man. He had been hired to be equal to all the other scientists, and yet John was acting like he was somebody hired to do data entry. He knew he could make the program run better and make the handbook better; he just needed John to listen to him. “I’m just thinking that if we…” Avery tried again. “If you have any suggestions, just write them down and slip them under my door,” John said as he started walking away without looking over his shoulder. The rest of the day went on without a hitch. A few people came by and tried to introduce themselves to him, but he kept the small talk to a minimum and just wanted to look over the program. Avery took a lot of notes that day. At the end of the day, he decided to retake the notebook home and leave the laptop at the office. He left the office at 4:30 p.m. to catch the bus at 5 p.m. If he missed the bus past 6 p.m., there wouldn't be another bus till morning. He was hungrier than normal because he skipped lunch all day to work on debugging the program. He stopped by a McDonald's and ordered a Big Mac. As he stood in line, he couldn't help but notice the Happy Meals on the counter, offering small Lego kits to children. It was a cruel marketing strategy to exploit parents and make them buy more Lego sets for their already spoiled kids. He knew this well, but it only reminded him of his own childhood, one filled with deprivation and lack of affection. He watched as the children played with their toys, ignoring the food in front of them - something he would have cherished as a child. But no, he was never allowed such frivolous things growing up; his foster parents made sure to remind him how unworthy he was of such luxuries. The memory brought back painful emotions that festered deep within him.

This story starts the second story arc about Nikki and Sarah (which is the one I'm still working on). It starts in the spring of 2019; a little over three years after the previous story. There will be more tags added as the second and third part of the story is posted, but I don't want to give you spoilers. Like the other stories about Nikki and Sarah, it probably helps to have read the previous ones (although it's not strictly necessary), so I've added the relevant links to the Nikki-and-Sarah-verse index thread ------------------------------------------------ Mary Sue Sophie giggled. The deep, red plush of the carpet tickled her bare skin as she crawled down the hotel hallway behind Natalie. She had to admit that it was hard not to be distracted by Natalie's butt, clad in tight, black latex pants, swaying hypnotically only inches away from her face. The surface was so polished that Sophie could see her own funhouse reflection. Suddenly she felt a tug on her collar. Apparently she had lost focus and slowed down and Natalie had pulled the leash slung over her shoulder to urge her along. They reached the railing of the mezzanine overlooking the crowded lobby and Sophie knelt by Natalie's side. "I still can't believe this is legal," she said, looking at all the people below. Natalie didn't answer. She only bent down to adjust Sophie's outfit. Although calling it an outfit was rather generous. It was really more of a collection of narrow leather straps. "Mistress?" Sophie said quietly. "Yes sweetie?" "May I please go to the bathroom?" "Of course," Natalie said with a smile, "but be quick. You don't want to be late for your spanking down there." She nodded towards the lobby below where somebody was setting up some furniture that would never be seen in an IKEA catalogue. Sophie got to her feet and got a playful little swat across her butt before she hurried off towards the bathrooms. It didn't take her long to find them, but by the time she reached a stall she was close to bursting. Undoing the necessary buckles and sitting down, Sophie relaxed and let go. "I'm curious about one thing." Nikki put the tablet down on the kitchen table. "What?" Sarah looked up from the soup she was stirring. "Well, I've read enough of your stories that it's obvious that Sophie and Natalie are you and me." Nikki got up and walked over to the stove to stand next to Sarah. Sarah said nothing, but stirred the soup more intently. "So why isn't she wearing proper underwear?" Nikki gave Sarah's butt a squeeze through her sweat pants, making her jump. "And for that matter, why aren't you?" Sarah blushed a little. She and Nikki had been living together for more than three years, and Nikki had known how she liked wearing diapers for almost four. But Sarah was still embarrassed when Nikki talked about her diapers like they were the most normal thing in the world. "I mean, you are wearing the other half of the outfit." Nikki hooked a finger through the metal ring of the collar encircling Sarah's neck. Sarah swallowed. Their ground rules had been simple. Whenever she wore her diapers, she would also wear her collar. And whenever she wore her collar, Nikki was in charge. Of course, Sarah had quickly spotted a loophole. The rule said that she had to wear her collar if she wore diapers. It didn't say that she had to wear diapers whenever she wore her collar. Besides, Nikki was bossy even when she wasn't wearing her collar. But they both kept that part of their relationship private. Mostly. Sarah lowered her eyes demurely. "I like wearing it. It reminds me that my mommynatrix loves me." Nikki arched an eyebrow in the way that made Sarah melt. "Aaaaand?" she asked. "What do you mean Ma'am?" Sarah stopped stirring the soup. "You sure you're not fishing for some extra playtime? The grown-up kind?" "Maybe," Sarah admitted with a mischievous smile. "Is it working?" "Maybe." Nikki gave Sarah a quick peck on the cheek before letting go of her collar. "But not before dinner." Sarah returned her attention to the soup while Nikki set the table. Fifteen minutes later, inbetween spoonfuls of soup, Nikki brought the subject up again. "About your story," she said. "What about it?" Sarah reached for another roll and bit into it with an explosion of crumbs. "Is that something you'd, I don't know, maybe want to try?" Nikki asked hesitantly. "What? Public spankings? No thanks." Sarah shook her head, but stopped eating and looked at Nikki, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "No." Nikki paused. "I meant... You know how they say 'write what you know', right?" "Yeah?" "Have you ever been to one of those conventions?" Sarah gave a short, dismissive chuckle. "Riiiiiight." Nikki took a deep breath. "Would you want to?" Sarah sighed. "Nikki, I don't mind too much when you make me wear my diapers when we go out, but then they're hidden and only you and me know about them. There's no way in hell I'm going to have them on display for a bunch of strangers." "That's not really how it works," Nikki mumbled. "How would you... Oh my god! You've been to one, haven't you?" Nikki blushed in a very un-dominatrixy way. "When?" Sarah demanded. "Five years ago. A couple of months after we broke up." Nikki reached for a piece of bread and suddenly found her soup really interesting. There was a scraping sound as Sarah moved her chair next to Nikki's. "So what was it like then?" Sarah slid closer and nudged Nikki with her shoulder. "Teeeelllll meeeeeee." "Cut it out." "But I wanna knoooooow," Sarah said in her best whiny-kid voice. She knew she was pushing it, but she just couldn't help herself. Nikki sighed and rolled her eyes. "Was it full of cute little girls you could boss around?" "I said 'cut it out'." "And they just went crazy when you wiggled your butt in those tight leather pants of yours," Sarah continued. Nikki turned to look at Sarah, raising an eyebrow. "Is this really the way you want to do this?" she asked. "Uh-huh." Sarah grinned and nodded. Nikki hooked a finger through the steel ring on Sarah's collar and pulled her so close that their noses almost touched. "You," Nikki said sternly, "are being a very annoying, little girl. No more kisses and playtime for you." "Aaaww" "It's your own fault," Nikki pointed out and let go of Sarah's collar. Sarah pouted and moved her chair back to where it had been before. A few minutes later they had both finished eating. Sarah began clearing the table. She put the bowls in the sink before wiping off the table. "I just had an idea," Sarah said. She left the cloth on the table and knelt down next to Nikki's chair. "Yes?" "For Halloween this year, how about we dress up as characters from Beauty and the Beast? I could be the feather duster. I bet I'd look good in a French maid's outfit, don't you think?" Sarah rested her arms on Nikki's lap and looked up at her pleadingly. "And you'd look great in that outfit Lumiere has. You could even do your French accent. And maybe we could convince Mike and Amina to let us dress up their terrier as the beast. That'd just be adorable." "I..." Sarah rose and began singing with an exaggerated French accent. "Be ourrr guest. Be ourrr guest. Put ourrr service to ze test. Tie yourrr napkin 'rrround yourrr neck, cherrrie, and we'll prrrovide ze rrrest." She wiggled her butt from side to side in time with the song. Nikki laughed and grabbed Sarah, pulling her onto her lap. "You're such a dork," she said with a smile and leaned in and gave Sarah's nose a little kiss. Sarah made a show of checking her watch. "Six minutes and thirty-five seconds," she said, grinning broadly. "Huh?" "Oh, I just wondered if I could get you to kiss me less than ten minutes after you said 'no smoochies'." "Oh you're such a brat. You're going to regret that," Nikki said. She wasn't lying.

My wife and I are replacing the shingles on a one story addition on the house we live in. It has been leaking so we really needed to get it done. We bought a range hood to install in the kitchen which we wanted to vent through the roof so having the roof stripped to the wood decking was the perfect time. We started on Friday morning stripping all the asphalt shingles and the tar paper. It's been so hot out here on the prairie that we start early in the morning when the west facing roof is in the shade. We stop at about 11 or 11:30 when there is not an inch of shade on the roof. Then we go back to work around 5 when the sun is less intense and work until sunset. We put all the exhaust pipe in for the hood on Saturday. It's been so hot we are constantly drinking water but we hardly pee because we are both sweating so much. We would laugh at our diapers because the padding is hardly discolored but they were destroyed with all the Fluff broken away from the backsheet and in huge clumps. We both wear Betterdrys and we would waste a lot of wipes trying to get all the sap cleaned off ourselves. Today (Sunday) we got all the the new tar paper and my wife's grandfather came by to help out with some of the singling. He didn't want to stop when we usually do so we were out longer. I had gone down below in the yard to pick up some more shingles when my wife waved to me. She laughed when she had my attention and shrew something white at me. It was a little clump of Fluff and sap from my diaper lol. I guess it was falling out of my shorts and I was leaving a trail. I don't thing her grandfather noticed but I went right in and changed. Hugs, Freta

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]

Jessica is partner in a law firm what her colleagues don't know is the she is an adult baby looking for parents to help take care of her. I decide to post a message on a adult baby website looking for the perfect couple.

So has anyone recently had any experience with the VA doctors, and trying to get a prescription for diapers? I'm not quite there yet but getting close, hard for me to get to a bathroom at times. I'm not interested in taking pills or other treatments. Just curious if others have been through this. I know the VA can be a pain at times. Thoughts on this?

🍍 Part 1: “Family Haagen is looking for a full-time babysitter …” Elna Hetland was reading the e-mail from the babysitting agency. Elna was a cheerful young girl at her 19 and she had finished high school two months ago; unfortunately, her applications to the university were rejected. Now she needed a job, and the offer was more than generous. The family had only one 2 years old toddler girl and the wage was double of the usual rate. The job looked better than that of a secretary or a clerk. Elna had babysat in the past and she liked it a lot. “Elna, be careful, please. A double rate sounds suspicious,” Elna’s mother warned her daughter. “Yeah, mommy. I’ll be careful,” Elna nodded. She also realized the generosity; however, she wasn’t aware of any risk. Babysitting a toddler shouldn’t be dangerous though. She decided to find out more about the family as soon as possible. After dinner, Elna sat down to her computer and started searching. According to her findings, the Haagen family was quite wealthy, and they lived in a big villa. There was no personal information there, but Elna could have expected it. She dialed the number stated in the e-mail and a soft female voice answered the call: “Haagen villa,” it was probably a maid. “Elna Hetland speaking. I’ve got an e-mail from the babysitting agency, and I’m interested in the job.” “Wait a moment, miss. I’ll call Mrs. Haagen,” there was a short break until another female voice asked her. “Good evening. Miss Hetland, are you seriously interested in the job?” “Yeah, I am, Mrs. Haagen.” “Well, come tomorrow and we can talk about your job. However, our Amanda is a special child. She has had four babysitters until now and all of them have left. I’ll tell you more in person when you come.” “No problem, Mrs. Haagen. I’m sure I’ll take care of Amanda even if she is … special.” Elna was a bit confused, but she also was curious. After the call she couldn’t get rid of a strange feeling. Nevertheless, the curiosity took over. --------------------------- The next day she arrived at the Damhau street and stopped in front of the big villa. As she pressed the bell knob, a soft female voice sounded in the intercom: “Wait, please,” a minute later the door opened and an older lady in the maid uniform was standing in the hall. “Are you Ms. Hetland?” “Yeah, I am.” “Come in, Mrs. Haagen is expecting you,” she gestured at Elna and ushered her towards a luxurious living room. A middle-aged woman was sitting at the table. “Good morning,” Elna greeted, and the woman stood up and walked towards her. “Welcome to our house, Ms. Hetland. Take place please and we can talk about our job.” “Thanks, madam,” Elna sat down, and Mrs. Haagen took the place opposite her. The maid left and seconds later a small toddler girl ran into the room. “Are you my new babysitter? My name is Amanda,” she stopped in front of Elna and looked at her closely. “Yeah, Amanda. I am your new babysitter, and my name is Elna,” Elna smiled at Amanda and stroked her blonde hair; she noticed Amanda’s eyes and immediately realized that something was wrong. It was a feeling only, but Elna wanted to find out more. Amanda stretched her little arms towards Elna and Elna helped the little girl crawl onto her lap. Amanda hugged Elna and leaned her head on Elna’s shoulder. Elna hugged her back and felt the thick diaper package between her legs. Mrs. Haagen watched the scene for awhile, smiled and walked over to Amanda. “Sweetheart, go to your room and play a little while mommy talks to your new babysitter,” Mrs. Haagen asked her daughter. The little girl nodded, crawled down from Elna’s lap and left the room. Elna was surprised by the toddler’s prompt reaction. “Ms. Hetland …” “Call me Elna, please.” “Elna, I owe you an explanation. Amanda has been diagnosed by Approgressia infantilis. Her growth has stopped, and she stays a toddler forever.” “Oh, I’ve never heard about that disease,” Elna was taken aback. “It is extremely rare, but our little girl suffers from it. Fortunately, it doesn’t hurt, but she can’t grow, and she will need diapers for life. Otherwise, she is a nice and smart girl. You will see.” “Okay, Mrs. Haagen. I don’t think it will be an issue for me. I’m sure I’ll be a good babysitter. However, I don’t understand why four babysitters have left already.” “Well, let’s talk about your job,” Mrs. Haagen apparently didn’t want to speak about the former babysitters, “It is a literally full-time job. You will live in this house and take care of Amanda. Of course, you get your room, food and your wage as stated in the offer. If you still want this job, come tomorrow, and bring your personal possessions with you. We will sign the contract then. Helga can show you your and Amanda’s room before you leave. Helga!” “Thank you, Mrs. Haagen,” Elna stood up and the older lady entered the room. “This way, Ms. Hetland,” Helga ushered Elna upstairs. Amanda’s room was a luxurious well-equipped nursery. Amanda was sitting on the floor and playing with dolls; however, Elna again got a strange feeling while watching the little girl. Helga showed Elna her future room and Elna stopped dead in her tracks. The room was really luxurious and much larger than her own room at home. It was also equipped with a computer and a large TV set. While travelling home, Elna kept thinking of the offer. Something was definitely wrong, but she didn’t have any idea what it was. Mrs. Haagen wouldn’t tell her anything and Amanda was too little. On the other hand, Amanda’s behavior didn’t match a two-year-old toddler. Elna suddenly got curious; was there any mystery there? “Elna, I’m not sure if you should take the job,” Elna’s mother shook her head, “why have four babysitters left if the life there looks comfortable and luxurious, and the child seems to be nice and well educated. Also, the disease is strange. Maybe we should find out about it.” Elna nodded and switched on her computer. She really found the mysterious “Approgressia infantilis” and the description matched the former explanation from Mrs. Haagen. However, the search provided her with one single result. As for the four babysitters, Elna and her mother couldn’t even start searching if they didn’t know their names. “Elna, the job looks good, but I warn you; be extremely careful and don’t trust anybody there,” Elna’s mother was also confused; however, Elna needed a job and the babysitting looked like a good one. Elna packed her personal possessions into a big bag. Besides her clothing, shoes and cosmetics, she also packed her notebook. Although she noticed a computer in her room, she decided to take her own notebook, just to be sure. As she was packed, she went to bed; however, she couldn’t sleep well. Her mind was still occupied by the little girl and her mystery.

Time for another one-shot story while I try to figure out which story to continue working on. (Yes, I have more than one story competing for space in my head.) This one was written for a contest where, if I remember correctly, the theme was "The first time". ---------------------------- Normal "I still don't see why we couldn't just take a plane?" Tamsin looked out of the window at the melting snow and slushy puddles covering the endless flat fields. "I mean, we could be sitting on a balcony, having drinks in the warm evening breeze. Instead, we're driving through flat, boring, featureless, snowy, boring fields." "You said boring twice." Stefan sipped his coffee and put his travel mug back in the cup-holder on the inside of the door. "I know. That's how boring they are. And the perfectly straight roads as well? Everything's looked the same for hours now. It's like we haven't moved at all. Are you sure we're not going in circles?" "God Tammy, sometimes you really sound like a five-year-old. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'" "Yeah, well, who goes on a cross-country road trip in February?" "Come on. We've been stuck inside for two years. It'll be good to just see new faces. Besides, you've seen the videos of people going apeshit on planes." "Statistically speaking, those morons are rare. And we would see plenty of new faces in New Orleans. Especially if we had several extra days that we didn't have to spend driving there all the way from Mississauga. I think you just like to drive." "Remind me again, how does scissors beat rock? Are they some kind of unbreakable super-scissors?" Tamsin grunted and turned to look out the window again. "And you call me childish." Another minute or so passed, then Stefan put a hand on Tamsin's knee and slowly slid it up her thigh. "It's only two days babe," he said conciliatorily . "We'll still have plenty of time before the Mardi Gras parades." He tugged Tamsin's t-shirt out of the waistband of her pants and slipped his hand under it. "Are you that eager to flash your boobs for beads?" Tamsin smacked Stefan's wrist. "Eyes on the road Tit Boy." "Ooh, that's definitely my new superhero name." Tamsin gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. She reached for the GPS and pinched the map to zoom out. The map stayed the same. A single, perfectly straight road. She checked the directions. The next item on the list was a left turn in 62 miles. "Please tell me you're not planning on driving through the night." Stefan shook his head. "Nah. I pulled an all-nighter last night so I'm already dead tired. I figure the next motel we see, we'll stop for the night. That sound OK with you?" "Yeah," Tamsin said, somewhat mollified at the prospect of any change from the non-changing scenery outside the window. She wanted to lie down. She wanted a bathroom that didn't look like a crime scene or had a hubcap hanging from the key. And most of all, she wanted decent wifi or mobile coverage so she could watch a movie or two. She pulled out her phone and opened the map, zooming out and scrolling south. "Looks like there's a small town coming up in fifteen miles or so. Normal." "Of course it's normal. America isn't some kind of post-apocalyptical wasteland. There are little towns everywhere." "No, I meant it's called Normal. Normal, Indiana." "That's a bit redundant. Isn't Indiana like... the blandest of the states. I think I read somewhere that there are places that have legally banned hot sauce." "Can you imagine their Mardi Gras parades?" Tamsin grinned. "I'm trying not to." A little later, they passed the green sign marking the Normal city limits and Tamsin chuckled. "What's so funny?" Stefan asked as he slowed down to the posted speed limit. "Somebody had spraypainted 'Ab' in front of the name on the sign." "Abnormal? That sounds like a more fun place." Tamsin sighed. "Yeah." ~~~ After another couple of minutes a flickering sign appeared from behind a couple of trees. If it hadn't been for the dusk, they probably wouldn't even have noticed it. "Motel!" Tamsin exclaimed. "I see it," Stefan said and slowed down. He turned smoothly in to the parking lot in front of the motel. Tamsin opened the door, shivering as the cold wind hit her. She grabbed her jacket from the back seat and quickly put it on. Then she stretched, working out the kinks in her back. "You wanna get us a room while I get the bags out of the car?" Stefan was still sitting in the driver's seat with the door open. "Sure." Tamsin grabbed her little overnight backpack and headed for the front desk, weaving between the slushy puddles. There was nobody behind the counter in the reception, but the little bell that jingled cheerfully as Tamsin entered prompted somebody in the back room to call out. "Just a moment..." A girl that couldn't possibly be more than sixteen emerged only seconds later. She was dressed like a stereotypical goth girl, which clashed with her cheerful expression and the big, pink, playboy-style bunny ears on her hair band. "Yeah?" the girl asked. "We'd like a room. One night." The girl jiggled the mouse next to the computer and typed in a password. "Okay? Double bed or two singles?" "Two singles." The girl nodded and tapped another couple of keys. "That'll be fifty dollars. Would you like the extra hospitality package?" "What's that?" "We pick up breakfast for you from the diner down the road and bring it to your room at the time of your choosing. Well, between seven and ten that is. Plus there's some complimentary snacks and soft drinks. No alcohol though. We're not allowed to give that away. It's only twenty extra bucks." Tamsin thought about it for a few moments. It would be nice to actually have breakfast in bed before going back on the road. "Sure," she said. The girl started looking through a stack of papers, pulling out a laminated menu and handing it to Tamsin. "Great, you just figure out which breakfasts you want and I'll handle the rest." She returned her attention to the computer. "Name?" "Um, Tamsin Haze," Tamsin said absent-mindedly as she studied the menu. "OK." The girl typed some more. "I'm Isabel by the way. I'm going to need a credit card for the safety deposit." Tamsin looked up. "Are you even old enough to be handling this sort of thing?" she asked, a little hesitant about handing over her credit card to a kid. Isabel gave an exasperated sigh. "For crying out loud. Why does everybody think I'm just a kid? I'm twenty-two for god's sake." Tamsin stared back. Disbelief obvious on her face. "What?!? Wanna see my license or something?" "Nonononono." Tamsin held up her hands. "I believe you." "Good, 'cause it's really annoying. It's not my fault I have a babyface." She took a breath to calm herself down. Tamsin found her credit card and handed it to Isabel. She entered whatever details she needed into the computer and handed the card back to Tamsin. "OK, breakfast. Anything tickle your fancy?" Tamsin looked back at the menu. "I think maybe just the scrambled eggs and sausages." "Good choice. They're delicious. And your boyfriend?" "Stefan's a sucker for oatmeal. With bacon." "Interesting combination. And when did you want it?" "Eight, I guess. We want to get started early tomorrow." Isabel nodded and wrote it all down on a post-it note. Then she stuck it to the side of the screen. "You're in room number 10. That's up the stairs and all the way at the end." She handed Tamsin a key. "And if there's anything else, just dial 9 on the phone." "Thanks." Tamsin grabbed her backpack and went outside where she found Stefan having a cigarette. "I thought you said you quit." "I have," he said defensively. "Mostly. But sometimes I still need one." Tamsin sighed. "You're just a big bundle of bad habits, aren't you?" "And that's why you love me." "Come on. They put us in number 10. Upstairs." Tamsin picked up one of the bags and headed for the stairs. Stefan stubbed out the cigarette and followed her. The room was pretty much the same as any other motel room Tamsin had ever seen. There were two beds on one side of the room, and on the opposite side was a small table with a couple of chairs and a low dresser with a small TV on top. There was a door at the back of the room that Tamsin assumed was the bathroom. She put the bag down. "I'm going to take a shower. If you find the mini-fridge, the snacks and drinks are free." "Free? Really?" "Well, they're 'complimentary'. Oh, and they're bringing us breakfast tomorrow morning." "Seriously? Niiiiice." Stefan grabbed the TV remote, sat down on the bed and began flipping through the channels. The bathroom was larger than Tamsin expected and remarkably clean. She quickly undressed and used the toilet before hopping in the shower. After a day stuck in the car, the cascade of hot water felt glorious. Tamsin could almost feel the stress melt away. She just stood there, letting the water pound against her skull, listening to the white noise it caused. Eventually she was brought out of her reverie by Stefan knocking on the bathroom door. "Hey, leave a little hot water for me." Tamsin turned off the water and grabbed one of the big towels on the shelf next to the shower. They were softer and fluffier than she expected. She quickly dried her short hair before wrapping it around herself. "All done," she announced as she opened the door. Stefan rushed past her and closed the door. She heard the toilet lid hit the cistern, followed by a groan and a disgustingly loud, wet farting sound. I guess showering wasn't the most important thing for him either. "You okay baby?" she asked the closed door. "Gas station hot dog." Tamsin found some clean underwear in her bag and put it on before stepping into a pair of sweatpants and pulling a t-shirt over her head. The TV flashed some kind of news programme intro, so Tamsin turned up the volume and sat down on the edge of the bed to see if anything important had happened while they were on the road. The news weren't exactly new, so Tamsin turned off the TV after a couple of minutes. She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was just as boring and uniform as the fields they had driven through the last couple of hours. "Stefan? I'm gonna go see if I can find something a little healthier than those little motel bags of mixed nuts. Do you want anything?" The groan that came from the bathroom told Tamsin all she needed to know. "I'll see if I can find you some Imodium or something, all right?" "Thanks." Tamsin changed out of sweatpants and put on some jeans before grabbing her jacket, phone and car keys. She pulled the zipper all the way up to ward off the cold wind as she walked down the stairs to the front desk. ~~~ Isabel was still sitting behind the front desk playing something on her phone when Tamsin came through the door. She tapped the screen and looked up at her. "Is there something wrong with the room?" she asked. Tamsin shook her head. "Nah; the room is fine. I was just wondering if there's a drugstore or something that's still open anywhere nearby. The only one I could find on Google maps looks like it closed three years ago." "Yeah. For some reason they don't update things here. Don't know why." Isabel thought for a moment. "There's one maybe a mile or so down the road." She looked at the clock on the wall. "I don't think they close for another hour or so." "Thanks." Tamsin turned to leave, then turned back again. "One more thing: What's with the 'Ab-normal'?" "What do you mean?" "On the sign at the city limits. Somebody put an 'Ab' in front of the name." "Ooooh, that. It's a long story." "Oh?" "Yeah. Back in '18 we had a bunch of religious whackos who managed to get themselves elected to the city council. Things got kind of... let's just say 'uptight', for a while. But it's better now." "Sooo, not such a long story after all." Isabel shrugged. "I guess not." "By the way, the liquor store on Google maps. Is that still open?" "The Hughes one? Yeah. Just don't let them trick you into trying their micro-brewed rye beer. It tastes like fermented socks." "Thanks for the warning," Tamsin said and walked outside again. The cold wind felt like it was blowing up the bottom of her jacket and she shivered as she zig-zagged between slushy puddles on her way to the car. Once inside, she started the engine and turned up the heat. The warm bloom of the seat warmers made Tamsin smile. It had always been one of her favourite things about cars in general. She couldn't understand why manufacturers didn't make seat-back heaters as well. Or armchairs with built-in seat warmers. After all, you should be allowed to have a nice warm chair in your living room and not just in your car. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, just enjoying the hot air and the warm seat for a few moments. Then she slowly drove out of the parking lot and down the road. ~~~ The drive to the drugstore struck Tamsin as a little strange. The streets were eerily empty. She had heard that a lot of smaller towns had had problems with young people leaving for the bigger cities, but driving through Normal was like being in a post-apocalyptic film; except there was less garbage and debris. And fewer mutant zombies. At least she hoped there weren't any. "Well, my trusty Pip-boy," Tamsin said to no-one in particular. "Any deathclaws around? Super-mutants? Fascists in power-armour?" She glanced at the GPS which didn't show any flashing red dots indicating danger. "I guess not." Almost every second building Tamsin passed had 'for sale' or 'closed' signs in the windows, so when she saw the cheerily lit windows of the drugstore the contrast was rather jarring. Tamsin pulled over and parked at the curb. She sat still for a few moments, steeling herself before opening the door and getting out. There was Christmas music playing on the speakers inside the almost empty drugstore. A lady that looked like she was pushing a hundred was wandering aimlessly up and down one of the aisles, and sitting behind the cash register was a middle-aged man that was so fat he was literally lemon-shaped. He was wearing a Christmas sweater the size of a tent and had a shock of white hair that would have made Einstein proud. When he noticed Tamsin he put down the comic book he was reading and smiled broadly. "Can I help you?" he asked in a comically squeaky voice that seemed so out of place that Tamsin almost began giggling. He almost sounded like he'd been breathing helium. "Yeah, where's the Imodium?" Tamsin looked around. "Over there, in the corner." The man pointed. Tamsin found the pills and went back to the register. She couldn't see any snacks that looked particularly tempting, but she grabbed a couple of granola bars from a display on the counter. "Anything else?" the man squeaked. Tamsin was tempted to ask if he had any helium, but decided to be nice, and shook her head. "No. That's all. Unless you have any postcards with the town name on or something like that." "Sorry, no." Tamsin shrugged. Then she looked up at the loudspeaker playing Jingle Bells. "You must really like Christmas," she remarked casually. "Yeah I guess. It's not actually Christmas though. It's the waiting for Christmas. I just love the feeling of something wonderful being just barely out of reach." "Hmm. Holiday-edging," Tamsin muttered to herself and nodded. "Huh? What was that?" the man asked. "Oh nothing. Just thinking out loud. Bad habit." Tamsin paid and turned to leave. "Merry not-yet-Christmas." The man chuckled and nodded. "I guess that's one way of saying it." Tamsin's next stop was the liquor store where she looked around their measly selection before ending up buying a bottle of Bacardi and a couple of cans of Coke. Booze in hand, Tamsin headed back to the car. The temperature was plummeting and wind was picking up. The jacket was not helping much. It was meant for a different Ana; Louisi, not Indi. Tamsin turned the heaters up to max the moment she was in the car and sat there shivering as the air slowly warmed up and her butt was thawed out. She was used to the winters being cold, but this wind was chilling her to the bone. ~~~ When Tamsin pulled in to the parking lot of the motel, she saw Isabel waving at her from the front office. She parked as close as she could and hurried inside. "Damn! Is it always this cold?" Tamsin said as she closed the door and tried to find the warm air from the heater. "More or less. Anyway, we forgot to restock the fridge in your room." Isabel held out a plastic bag. "I figured I shouldn't just go up there, just in case. I've walked in on enough people doing stuff in... well, elsewhere. I don't need it here." "Okay." Tamsin tried to sound nonchalant. She put the rum and Coke and her other supplies in the bag without looking inside. "Thanks." Tamsin paused for a moment before opening the door. "By the way, where is that empty fridge." Isabel chuckled. "They did kind of hide it, didn't they. It's in the night stand between the beds." "Thanks." "All part of the service," Isabel said cheerily. "Have a good night." ~~~ Tamsin jogged up the stairs to the room. When she opened the door, she was met by a blast of warm air. Stefan was sitting crosslegged on the bed, wrapped in the duvet and watching TV. "Feeling better?" Tamsin put the plastic bag down on the bed and began removing its contents. There were some small bags of mixed nuts, crisps and candy, a couple of bottles of water and a four or five cans of various soft drinks. Tamsin found a can of ginger ale and handed it to Stefan who grimaced when he saw what it was. "I think I read somewhere that ginger helps against an upset stomach." "Yeah, but it tastes like a wet mop." "Oh stop being such a baby and take your medicine." Tamsin handed him the Imodium. Stefan popped one of the pills in his mouth and washed it down with some water. "At least they're not suppositories." "Um, they were." Stefan's eyes widened. "Hah! I got you!" "No you didn't," Stefan protested. "Oh yes I did. I got you." Tamsin grinned and took a sip of water. She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bed. "Do you have any room under there?" she tugged at the duvet. Stefan lifted the edge. Just then, there was a hollow, gurgling sound. Stefan jumped off the bed and sprinted to the bathroom. "Do you want a drink? I'm making Cuba Libres. Without the lime, I'm afraid." "Why not," came the weak reply through the door. "It's not like my stomach can get any worse." There was a groan and a farting sound. Tamsin tried to not hear it. If Stefan was going to keep making those sounds, she was going to need those drinks. ~~~ A couple of hours, and about two thirds of the bottle of rum later, Tamsin was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. The flickering lights from the motel sign and weird patterns as it filtered through the crack between the curtains. Stefan was lying on his stomach, yet still managing to snore. "How come you're drunker than me?" Tamsin slurred. "I drank..." she studied the bottle, "waaaay more than you." Tamsin waited for Stefan to respond. When he didn't, she continued. "Tha'ss 'cause you're a fuckin' lightweight." She nodded to the empty room for emphasis. "And I," she paused as she laboured to sit up, nearly rolling off the bed in the process, "I have a liver of steel." Sitting up made Tamsin feel a rapidly growing pressure on her bladder. "Don' go 'nywhere," she mumbled to Stefan and rose. She walked unsteadily to the bathroom. The plastic seat felt ice cold against Tamsin's thighs and she shivered. She wondered why they didn't have seat warmers for toilet seats, like they did for car seats. When she bent down to pull up her sweatpants, Tamsin almost fell over. Although that was because the floor was no longer level and seemed to be moving ever so slowly. After several attempts to tie the drawstring, she gave up and let the pants fall to the floor again. Then she carefully stepped out of them. She didn't need them anyway. The bed was nice and warm. Tamsin stumbled back to bed and crawled onto it. The duvet was still warm, so she wrapped herself in it and closed her eyes. It really was a very comfy bed and she didn't want to leave it. She looked over at the TV. The sound was off, but it was showing what looked like a mother reading bedtime stories to a toddler. Tamsin yawned. She gave the bottle of rum another look. "D'you mind if I have some more?" Tamsin whispered. Again, Stefan's only reply was a soft snore. "Tha's what I thought." Tamsin looked around for her glass, but couldn't see it, so she just fumbled the cap off and took a healthy swig. When the subsequent coughing fit ended, she wheezed: "OK, no drinking rum neat." She took a mouthful of Coke and added a sip of rum before swallowing. "Ahh. Much better," she concluded. The ad on the TV was over and they continued some old, black-and-white horror movie featuring what looked like a vampire in a flimsy nightgown. Tamsin wanted to turn it off, but couldn't be bothered to look for the remote. She was just so sleepy. And the pillow was so soft. And everything was just warm and fuzzy. She had another mouth-mixed drink. ~~~ Tamsin was woken by an icy draught. She opened her eyes. Everything was still pleasantly fuzzy. The TV was showing middle-of-the-night infomercials. Tamsin turned over to see where the draught was coming from. The door was open and the vampire from the horror movie was standing in the open doorway. Mist was rolling in around her legs to cover the floor. She sort of floated forward across the room, the door closing silently behind her. When she came closer, Tamsin realised it wasn't a B-movie bloodsucker, but Isabel from the front desk. Tamsin tried to sit up, but she was all tangled up in the duvet. "Wha-" "Shh," Isabel said and pressed a finger to Tamsin's lips. "It's all right. You called me." "I did?" Tamsin couldn't remember doing that. "Yeah." Isabel brushed Tamsin's hair out of her eyes. "You didn't make a lot of sense, but you said you wanted a cuddle and a story." "A story?" "Mm-hmm." "And a cuddle?" "Mm-hmm." Isabel nodded. "Why'd I do tha'?" Tamsin asked. Isabel sat down next to her. She seemed a lot larger now than when she had been sitting behind the front desk. "I don't know. You sounded pretty drunk." Tamsin giggled. "I think I'm still pretty drunk." "I think so too." Tamsin wriggled closer to Isabel. "You're so nice and soft," she mumbled. "Aww, thank you. And you're an adorable little baby." "And is mommy going to tell her baby a story?" "Of course she is. But first we have to make sure that little Baby Tammy is ready for bedtime, don't we?" "Yeah, okay." "That's a good girl." Isabel stroked Tamsin's hair. "Did you brush your teeth?" she asked. "Mm-hmm," Tamsin lied. "And did you go pee-pee?" Tamsin smiled at the absurdity of the situation. "Yeah." "And you put on your jammies?" "Uh-huh." "Really? I don't think so. Let's see." Isabel peeled the duvet off Tamsin, exposing her t-shirt and panties. "Big-girl panties?" Isabel ran a hand over the thin silky fabric struggling not to creep up Tamsin's butt crack. "Big girls don't need bedtime stories." "Aww." Tamsin pouted. "Maybe mommy's little girl should stop playing dress-up and get into her little-girl jammies?" "And then story-time?" "Yes Tammy." Tamsin rolled over on her back while Isabel knelt next to her legs. Then she wriggled her hips to slide the panties off. Isabel helped get them all the way down her legs. Then Isabel grabbed Tamsin's legs and lifted them onto her shoulder, lifting her hips off the mattress. There was a crinkling sound and Tamsin tried to see what Isabel was doing, but her legs were in the way. Isabel slid Tamsin's legs off her shoulder, lowering her butt again. Instead of feeling the soft cotton sheets against her butt, there was something that felt a little like stiff tissue paper. Isabel spread Tamsin's legs and pulled something up between them. That's when she realised what it was. "A diaper?" Tamsin began wiggling to get away from the papery touch of the diaper against her crotch. "Shh," Isabel said. She put a hand on Tamsin's hip. "It's OK. I know how little girls have accidents sometimes." "But...but..." Tamsin was struggling to form the right words. "And we wouldn't want to ruin the nice hotel bed, now would we?" "But-" "Would we?" Isabel asked and pressed down on Tamsin's hip. "No," Tamsin admitted meekly. "Good. Now lie still so you don't wake him up." Isabel nodded towards Stefan who was still sleeping soundly only feet away. "This is so weird," Tamsin whispered. Isabel taped the diaper in place. "It's not weird. A lot of little girls have accidents," she said reassuringly, patting the smooth plastic. "There. Much better. Don't you agree?" "I guess," Tamsin said, running her hand over the diaper. It felt strange to be wearing something this thick. She couldn't even feel her hand through it. Isabel sat down at the head of the bed and spread the duvet out across her lap. "OK Tammy. Snuggle up." Tamsin crawled onto Isabel's lap and allowed herself to be wrapped up in the duvet. Isabel wrapped her arms around her and held her close. "You ready for your story?" Isabel asked. "Yeah." Tamsin almost felt like she should be sucking her thumb, but both her arms were trapped in her tightly wrapped cocoon. Everything just felt so perfect and warm and soft and fuzzy. "Once upon a time," Isabel began," there was a little town. Waaaaay out in the middle of nowhere. The people living in the town were good people. Most of them were, anyway. They tried let people do what they wanted and not make a big fuss about things. But then, one day, some very mean men decided that they wanted to run the little town. And they wanted to decide what everybody else was allowed to do and say and think." "Tha's no' very nice," Tamsin mumbled from inside the duvet. "No it wasn't," Isabel agreed. "The meanies tricked a lot of the people in the town into letting them be in charge. At first they weren't so bad. Sure, they said some mean things, but most people didn't take them very seriously. But then they made a rule that said that nobody was allowed to do things differently from them. And if somebody broke that rule, they were sent to a special house-" "Like a prison?" Tamsin interrupted. "No, not exactly a prison. More like a special hospital. Anyway, at first there were only a few people that were sent away. But every now and then, the meanies would make a new rule, and a few more people were sent away. And then a few more. And a few more." "Oh no," Tamsin whispered. Isabel brushed Tamsin's hair away from her forehead. "Don't worry. It gets better." "Promise?" "I promise. So, this special hospital. The doctors there weren't very nice either, but with every new rule, there were more and more people there. And one day, in the middle of winter, maybe a week before Christmas, the people in the hospital realised something. There were so many of them in there that there were more of them than there were people left outside. There was a big fight, and they locked the mean doctors and the other meanies who had been running the town in the special hospital. And then they went back to their homes in the town and lived their lives without those big meanies bossing them around and telling them how to live their own lives." "And they lived happily ever after?" Tamsin asked and yawned. "Yeah, they did. And they all promised each other not to let the meanies make the rules again." Tamsin began wriggling, trying to get out of the duvet wrapped around her. "What is it Tammy?" Isabel asked. "Tell mommy what's the matter." "I... I have to go to the bathroom." Isabel looked around at the empty cans and water bottles. "I'm not surprised. You've drunk a lot." She picked up the almost empty bottle of rum. "And not just little-girl drinks either." "Yeah. I'm drunk," Tamsin said, almost sounding proud of it. "Well, you just let it go. Mommy will change you afterwards." "Whaddaya mean?" Tamsin was having a little trouble processing what Isabel said. "There's no need to get up. You just go ahead and pee your diaper. Mommy will change it later." "Are you serious?" Tamsin tried to sit up, but failed. "Of course sweetie. Why else did you think you're wearing diapers?" "But... You said they were in case of accidents." "Yes and don't you think little baby Tammy is about to have an accident?" "I'm not a baby," Tamsin protested. "Sure you are. You're my little, diapered baby girl." Isabel pulled Tamsin up so she was sitting on her lap rather than lying on it. The movement and new position increased the pressure on Tamsin's bladder and she gasped as a spurt of urine escaped her. "What is it?" "I... I peed," Tamsin said and looked away in embarrassment. "It's OK," Isabel reassured her and slowly ran her fingers through Tamsin's hair. "Just let it all out. Mommy's here." "I can't," Tamsin said and shook her head. But that little leak had only been the first pebble in the avalanche. Within seconds the pressure was unbearable again, and another spurt escaped, only to be immediately absorbed by the diaper. "This is so gross," Tamsin complained. "Shh-shh-shh. It's perfectly normal, and mommy doesn't think any less of her precious baby. Just let it all out." Isabel began to slowly rock Tamsin back and forth. The third little leak turned out to be not so little. "I didn't know your lap had a seat warmer." Tamsin giggled. "So it's not so gross any more?" "It's like a big, wet glove. But kind of nice." Tamsin snuggled closer to Isabel. Then she closed her eyes and let out one last little trickle. "I did it again," Tamsin whispered mischievously. "That's a good girl," Isabel said and kissed Tamsin's forehead. "You just get some sleep. Mommy's here for you." "Tha's good, 'cause I think I'm sleepy." Tamsin's eyelids just felt so heavy. And the duvet was so warm and comfy. And Isabel smelled so good. ~~~ The morning light streaming in through the window combined with a pounding headache woke Tamsin up. She peered out from under her duvet and instantly regretted it after a faceful of sunshine. Gradually, the rest of her brain came online. She had to pee. Badly. Not a problem. That's why I have a diap- Tamsin suddenly realised she was not wearing a diaper. In fact, she was only wearing a t-shirt. Her bladder pressure overrode her headache and she rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. As she sat there, feeling sorry for herself, she bent down to pick up the sweat pants and panties that were lying in a heap on the floor. "No more rum on an empty stomach," Tamsin said to herself. "The fun dreams aren't worth the headache." Ten minutes and a shower later, Tamsin emerged from the bathroom to get her toothbrush and the ibuprofen from her bags. Stefan was still face-down on the bed. Tamsin nudged him awake "Five more minutes mom," Stefan mumbled and buried his head under the pillow. "Come on Stefan, time to get up." "It's that late already?" Stefan sat up and yawned. "God, that's the best night's sleep I've had in ages. When Tamsin re-emerged from the bathroom with her hair dried and the fuzz removed from her teeth, she found Stefan sitting on the edge of the bed, balancing a tray on his lap and eating oatmeal from a takeout container. "Breakfast?" "Mm-hmm. The girl at the front desk just dropped it off." He bit into a piece of bacon. "Oh that's good bacon." Tamsin checked out the other container. Thankfully the scrambled eggs and fried sausages were the perfect combination of bland and greasy to make Tamsin feel better. "Sorry I passed out so early, but I was just completely beat last night." Stefan pointed to the empty cans and bottles. "Looks like you have a bit to drink." "Yeah." Tamsin took another mouthful. "Hung over." "Sleep well?" Stefan held out a strip of bacon. "You just have to try this bacon?" Tamsin shook her head. "I'm good. I think I passed out in the middle of some cheesy, old horror movie." Tamsin stopped eating for a moment. "I had the weirdest dream." "Oh?" Stefan tried to look cool and just raise an eyebrow, but he just looked like he was having a stroke. "I don't wanna talk about it." "Oooo. That good, huh?" Stefan grinned suggestively. "No. That weird." "Fine, fine." Stefan held up his hands. They finished the rest of the breakfast and Tamsin packed their bags while Stefan took a shower. "So we'll be there by tonight then?" Tamsin asked through the bathroom door. "If everything goes according to plan, yeah." "Good. I want a warm balcony, spicy food and drinks with little paper umbrellas in them." "That's the plan," Stefan assured her as he turned off the shower. Tamsin checked the map on her phone. According to Google maps, they should be in New Orleans around half past ten. Knowing Stefan's driving, they could probably knock an hour off that estimate; or add two hours if he got caught speeding. Ten minutes later they were ready to leave. Tamsin pulled the zipper of her jacket all the way up to her chin as they opened the door. "What about the trays?" Stefan asked as he picked up the bags. "I don't know. I guess I can drop them off along with the key." Tamsin grabbed the breakfast trays before locking the door behind them. Tamsin headed for the front desk while Stefan went to load their bags into the car. She found Isabel half asleep in her chair and cleared her throat to wake her up. "Oh hi," she said and stretched. "I must have dozed off. Was the breakfast OK." "It was great. Thanks for bringing it up." Tamsin put the trays on the counter along with the key. "So, do I need to sign anything?" Isabel shook her head. "Nah. You prepaid, so unless you've broken anything or something like that, you're good." Isabel took the trays and put them on the desk behind her. "So, where to next?" "New Orleans." "Oh, that sounds like a fun trip." Tamsin nodded. "That's the plan." "I hear they have like an Anne Rice tour or something. I'd love to check that out one day." Isabel shrugged. "Anyway, if you come through here again on the way back, feel free to drop by again." "With a breakfast option like this, we just might," Tamsin said and turned to leave. "And maybe mommy will help you eat your breakfast in the morning." "What?!?" Tamsin whirled around. "Huh?" Isabel looked up from the computer. "Did you say something?" "Me? No." Isabel shook her head. "Okay," Tamsin said hesitantly and turned to leave again. She went back out into the cold and headed for the car As she got in, Stefan was just finishing entering the address of their hotel in New Orleans in the GPS. He started the engine and grinned. "Warm breezes, umbrella drinks and Mardi Gras, here we come!" he called out. As they left the parking lot, Tamsin saw Isabel watching them. She could have sworn there was just the faintest hint of a mischievous smile on her lips. She reached over and turned on the seat warmer. The bloom of warmth under her butt made her smile too.

(I've been writing a new story using novelai. Most of the actual text is mine, as I've found that the ai software, needs alot of help.) I've currently written about 25,000 words and this is the first 4000.) It was early, or at least early enough for Las Vegas standards, 10 AM. It was late last night when Nick, Alley, Tom and Diane had all gone out together and had a couple of drinks. Nick says, "Guys I can't believe we are here, it's Vegas Baby!" They walk through the casino, the sounds of slot machines ringing. Diane says, "What are we doing today, what's first?" Nick says, "I think we should head over to the hotel and check in." Tom askes, "OK so when are we doing this VR thing, I'm really stoked to try it?" Alley follows behind, distracted as she is doing some searches on her i-tap and half her vision is filled with a list of girly boutiques she'd like to shop at. Diane and Tom are holding hands. Tom asks, "Hey are you coming with us?" Alley responds, "Uh, sure. We should do something first right, I mean isn't that why we came to Vegas?" Nick turns back and looks annoyed and says, "OK, so let me guess you want to go shopping?" Alley snaps out of her reverie and responds, "No, well I mean not yet, but it would be good to see some stores and then after the VR I'd like to check out some places. Diane checks the VR hotel on her i-tap and tells the group, "Guys its 10AM we can't even check in until 3PM and the VR doesn't start until 5PM, so we have plenty of time. Alley, where do you want to go?" Alley thinks about it for a moment and says, "Well there is a nice shopping area near the hotel called the Fashion District. I looked at a map and it seems to have some cool shops, plus I can grab some food. Nick gives Diane an annoyed look, and she responds with a sarcastic grin, "OK, yeah, that sounds good, you guys hit up Fashion District and Tom and I will go the sci-fi museum, right buddy?" Tom says, "Uh, Yeah I guess that sounds fine. Alley you have a map in your i-tap?" Alley nods yes. As they get to the main entrance of the casino and step out onto the hot Las Vegas day and see a massive crowd of people. There are signs for a concert at the hotel, a massive pop-star, the music can be heard even where they are. Tom says, "Wow, it's busy." "OK, lets meet up at 1 PM for some food, how about a Chinese buffet?" Diane asks. Nick responds, "Sounds good, see you later guys." Alley and Diane, walk off towards the Fashion District, while Nick calls an uber with his i-tap. "Dude, look at that old guy over there with the phone, wow, even here in Vegas there are old fashioned people." Nick says as he points at the man with the phone. "Oh yeah, that's crazy, I wonder how old he is?" Tom responds. "He has to be like 45 or something, what a dinosaur. Hey, check it out, that's our ride," Nick points to a red car and the two men jump in. *** Later that evening. Nick, Tom and Alley and Diane, have completed their check-in at the VR hotel, and are walking to the intake center. The place is mostly empty as a majority of the clients purchase short 2 or 3 hour sessions during the day and not the expensive overnight session that Nick has purchased. The group had been arguing for an hour about which simulation to enter. Nick stops and turns to Diane, "I'm just saying, you picked that restaurant and it was horrible, so why don't you just let me pick the simulation." Alley adds, "I liked the restaurant, I'm sorry that you didn't. Anyway, I don't know why you guys are fighting, the fact is Tom and I don't have an opinion and which simulation we do, as long as it's not too violent or confusing. So just make up your minds." "I just think we should try a star wars, where we can fly star ships, and stuff," Nick says. Tom adds, "Yeah, but we could just watch the movies, it would be alot cheaper.” “Bro, I told you my Dad hooked us up, he’s like a shareholder or something, don’t worry.” Diane said, “I'm sure you would prefer some Science Fiction nonsense, but Alley and I would prefer Rivendell." "I don't care, it's your decision." Alley said. The group enters into the VR lobby, it's a stark white environment, like a medical office. A middle aged woman is behind the counter smiling. She is wearing a stark white uniform and smiles professionally as the younger group walks up to the counter arguing. "Hello, welcome to AVR, my name is Jennifer, and I will be your technician for today's experience, please state your name and reservation code." Nick, still annoyed, says, "Hi Jennifer, I'm Nick, umm. I don't have my code." Jennifer professionally hides the annoyance from her voice, "Can you check your email on your i-tap sir, the confirmation code will be there." "Look, I'm Nick Lutz, and I've signed up and paid for a group session for 4. Here are the 4 of us, can't you just look up my name or something." "Yes sir, Mr. Lutz. Please give me one minute to look up your reservation." Alley steps up, "Hi Jennifer, can I ask a quick question? We can't seem to agree on the simulation, I'd like a fantasy simulation and he," Alley points at Nick, would like to do Star Wars. Jennifer is distracted by the question while trying to look up Nick's information. She finds herself growing more annoyed at these rude young people. "Excuse me ma'am, I need a minute to find the reservation. Then I'll be happy to answer." Another technician who had been listening in, steps forward and says, "Hi, my name is David and I'm the manager on duty, I'd be happy to answer your question." "Yes, David, thank you. Some of us want to do a fantasy simulation and the guys would prefer something in the Sci-Fi genre, any chance we could do both?" Diane asks. David answers, "Actually, we have a special today, if you purchase 4 sessions. Oh wait, no you paid for the group discount, you have to all do the same simulation. I'm sorry. These sims use tremendous computing power. You would not believe the electricity and heat load of this place. Sorry, we can't offer two." Tom adds, "How much would it cost to do two?" David smiles, "Well, the 12 hour hour package you’ve already paid for would be $1000." Tom feels his throat gulp, "Oh, umm... yeah that's alot of money." "OK I have your reservation here sir, but I still need that confirmation code for security purposes." Jennifer says. "Geeze, fine," Nick says and uses his i-tap to fill his vision with his email account, he finds the message from AVR and reads off the 6 digit code to Jennifer." Jennifer types the code and then says, "I have you and 3 others, can I have their names?" "Alley, Diane and Tom," Nick responds. "OK, looks like the decision is already made, the science fiction simulation has already been selected when the reservation was made." "You mean we've been arguing about this for an hour and you already made the decision!" Diane yells at Nick. Nick responds, "Whatever, I can't be held responsible, I asked what you wanted and you didn't respond, so I made a decision. Listen Jennifer, my friends are being idiots and my girlfriend would rather do Rivendell, whatever the hell that is, so just change it.” “I’m sorry sir, I can’t it’s already loaded, there will be a substantial delay,” Jennifer said. "Guys, calm down. OK, I'm ready for space ships or whatever." Alley says. David gives Jennifer a stern look, "Guess you’re off the hook, You think you can handle it from here?" he asks. "Yes, David, no problem. Please continue." Jennifer says. Nick is looking annoyed again, and David notices, and says, "You'll have a good time, the system is fantastic, and I guarantee you won't know you are inside the simulation. Jenn, I'm heading out for the night, I trust you'll take good care of these folks." David says and exits the room. "Thanks, David. Yes, sir, I'll take good care of them." Jennifer says and the group all notice a hint of sarcasm. "OK, please follow me," Jennifer leads the group into a side door with modern smoky glass windows. There is a conference table and comfy chairs, "Please have a seat." "Now, a few questions first, how many of you are virgins to Advanced VR?" Alley, Tom and Diane all raise their hands. "Ok, you're not alone, VR has come a long way since the days of goggles, and now thanks to the i-tap our system can connect directly with your senses and provide a very vivid dream-like experience. So, the only way to truly experience this is to do so. Just remember that while things will seem very real to you, they are not real. For instance you may get hit with a stormtrooper blaster, and you'll feel a sting, but you're not really hurt. The simulation will also make sure that you don't die." "What if I jump off a cliff?" Diane asks. "If the simulation allows it, you'll jump off a cliff. And if you would die from a fall, you won't, instead you'll just have a rough landing, maybe feel a bit shook up," Jennifer answers. "OK, I think we get it, can we start now?" Nick asks. "Of course, but because you've paid for a premium overnight simulation, there is the matter of protection." "What do you mean by protection?" Tom asks. "Well, in order for the VR experience to be authentic, the body will react the way it normally would, and so in order to preserve the authenticity of the experience, you will need protection." "What kind of protection?" Alley asks. "We have a variety, in the restrooms you will find shelves with pull on and tabbed briefs of different sizes and absorbencies, I recommend the thicker ones for an overnight experience." Jennifer explains. "You mean like diapers?" Tom asks. Jennifer smiles, "Yes, they're not really diapers, but they work similarly. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." "I'm Tom and there is no way I'm wearing a diaper," he says. Jennifer's face becomes stern, "Did any of you not even read a brochure, or look us up online, the overnight experience makes it clear that you will have to wear protection.” “I didn’t read that, no one told me,” Tom said. “Sir, this is the standard procedure. You signed an agreement, if you can't do it, you will not be able to participate in the simulation." Diane is annoyed and says, "Let's get this started." "Nick you didn't say anything about diapers, and you said you did this before?" Alley asks. "Umm, I just did a one hour session, but the website said nothing about diapers." "It's there, you just didn't read it, Sir," Jennifer says, "I'm sorry, I need a verbal agreement from everyone, or we will not start." Nick is clearly annoyed, "Fine, whatever." "Great, go on and get changed, make sure you have a bowel movement if you need to and after you've put on your briefs leave your clothes in the cubicles and put on the robes. I'm working overnight, and part of my job is to monitor your health, so if I find you need changed I'll take care of that. Also if I find out that you've not put on your brief, I'll just put one on you." "Wow, this is a little embarrassing," Alley says. Nick adds, "I know, but its worth it, I did it before and it's amazing." The guys and girls split off to the men's and women's room to change. Tom walks in the Men's Room and looks around, he sees a shelf with 20 or so adult briefs, and they are not what he expected. Instead of being a diaper with tapes, they are like the kind of underwear you would wear as a child, they just slide up and even feel like cloth. "This isn't so bad I guess," he says. He quickly puts on his brief and walks out. . Alley enters the women's room and is shocked. She was expecting a bunch of diapers, but the shelves have a large variety of styles. The briefs are just like the ones the men are using. "This is pretty weird, but I'll give it a try." She removes her clothing and slides on the brief, "Wow, this feels a little weird, and why did they have to make the print pink," she says. "Oh, come on, pink is your favorite color, you're the most girly girl I know," Diane replies. "True," Alley says from her stall as she slides the brief up her legs and ties the robe on. The group meets back up in the conference room and Jennifer nodes in approval. "OK guys, let me show you the next step, follow me." Jennifer leads the group into a room with four medical style beds, beside each bed is a high tech plastic device on wheels with a digital readout. The room is stark white, perfectly clean and modern. Each of the plastic machines has a thick cord of cables that all run into a computer in the corner of the room. "Please lie down on the bed." Jennifer instructs. Nick and Tom and the girls climb up onto the beds and Jennifer places the device over them and attaches a number of leads to their heads. That interact with the subdermally implanted i-tap devices. Each device had a band that wrapped around their forearm connected with a cable. "You'll feel a tiny bit of pain." She said as a small needle in the band punctured a vein and injected sedatives. For the 12 hour sessions clients would be given a continuous stream of light sedatives, fluids, and sugar. "Now, there are a couple things that you need to know, first off, once I turn on the machine and you enter the simulation, you will not be able to see me. It is extremely important that if you feel a sense of distress or panic, and need help, you just relax. Your simulations are so real that once you enter you won't be able to leave. In fact, you won't even remember you're in a simulation. But you have a safety switch, if you say 'help Jennifer' your simulation will stop and I'll come and talk you through. Just relax and try not to panic, and remember "Help Jennifer." "Wait, is this safe?" Diane asks. "100 percent safe. Now, let's begin. Remember, if you need help, say 'Help Jennifer,' and I'll be there. You're going to be asked to confirm that you are entering AVR and giving consent for our systems to interact with your i-taps. Once that happens the machine will administer a light sedative to help you enter a dream-like state where the simulation takes over." "Can't you just send us directly into the simulation," Tom asks. "That's the next generation of AVR, which is not ready yet. Just click OK, when prompted." Alley see's a wall of text in her vision that replaces the white plastic device hovering above her head. Her AI assistant assures her it's just a standard agreement so she focuses on the OK button and clicks yes. A red light on the plastic device over her head turns green. Soon everyone's devices are green. "Now, it's going to feel like you are drifting off to sleep, don't be alarmed, everything is fine." Jennifer says. Nick closes his eyes, and soon his breathing is steady, and he is asleep, a few minutes later everyone is out. "Geez what a bunch of spoiled brats," Jennifer says. "You know it is my last day here, I could teach these kids a lesson." she continues. She checks their vitals on her tablet and they are all fine. Jennifer goes over the computer which has the Science Fiction simulation loaded. She enters a password that she's seen David use several times and brings up the program index and goes to the kink simulations. As she looks through the list her eyes settle on the most humiliating one in their catalog. Jennifer goes in to adjust some of the settings. "Yeah Nick, you were the biggest jerk, and Alley, you seemed nice enough. "You guys are going to hate this," Jennifer says and chuckles then uses the mouse to click Start simulation sending the group into the "Naughty Nursery" program. Diane is rudely awakened by someone placing zip tie cuffs on her arms. She feels the sensors being yanked off her body and is jerked up. She looks around and sees the same thing is happening to Nick, Tom and Alley. "Wait, what the hell is this," Diane yells. A large muscular man is holding her zip ties. "Hush now baby, just relax, Big Daddy is here to take care of you" He says. "Look, I'm an adult, what is going on?" The man laughs, "You were an adult, not any more, the Mistress will fix that." He produces a large metal syringe and pushes the plunger. Diane feels her muscles loosen. She see's Tom try to knock his attacker's syringe away, but his arm doesn't move, and the injection is administered. "I don't understand, what are you doing to us?" Alley asks as she begins to lose consciousness. "Just take a nap," the orderly says and Diane feels herself drifting down. "I've got a special surprise for you Nick," Big Daddy says and pulls out a larger 3 inch needle, "It's a special cocktail, guaranteed to make you a pussy." The orderly holding Nick laughs and he is injected with the special cocktail. Nick is confused as his muscles go limp. He tries to resist but can't and as he's falling asleep. Everything turns black. "Guys, I think I had a bad trip, where are we," Nick says as he sits up in the crib, but something isn't right. Tom and Alley are still wake, and then realize they are sitting up in a giant baby crib.. As Nick's vision clears he is in disbelief at what they are wearing, Diane is wearing stretchy girls sleeper pajamas with rainbows and unicorn print, it's obvious she is wearing a thick diaper underneath. Tom has a t-shirt with a cute truck and a name, he lsqunts and reads, "Tomy. on his shirt. His diaper is out in the open and is an exact replica of a baby diaper complete with sesame street characters. "Where is Alley?" Nick asked. Diane looks around the crib and sees a small toy mirror attached to the bars, she looks and is mortified, "No, No what am I wearing, NO." Tom finally is able to sit up, and notices his diaper and looks around, and says, "Nick, what the fuck is this, where are we, and where is Alley?" "I don't know, but it seems like a nightmare, what the hell was in those shots," Nick answers. "I thought I was in a VR Simulation," Diane says. "Me too, I think we're all dreaming, this isn't real," Tom says. "Well I sure as hell hope it isn't real have you seen what you're wearing?" Tom asks. "I'd rather not," Nick says, but he looks in the mirror and sees he is wearing a very sissy blue and pink plastic bubble romper. Embroidered in the front of the chest it says 'Sissy' in flowing letters. "What the fuck is this shit?" "Yeah, this place looks like a nursery, and we're the babies" Tom says. Diane is freaking out, "What's wrong with you guys, look at this," She points at the diaper that is stretching her sleeper pajamas out. Tom tries to comfort Diane, "Hey, its ok, maybe they just loaded the wrong simulation?" "Nick, is that a pacifier clipped to your outfit?" Diane asks. Nick realizes he has a clip on pacifier, and reaches for it. He tries to yank it off, but it's clipped on, he removes the clip but it seems much more difficult than it should have been. "Damn it," Nick says. "Nick, I think you need this," Tom says. Nick ignores Tom and throws the pacifier across the room. "Ok, let's see if there is a way out," Nick says and looks over the bars of his crib. He stands up on the soft bedding and tries to pull himself over the bars of the crib. This should be easy for an athlete like Nick, but he can't seem to get a grip and pull himself up. "Shit, my muscles must still be out, come on help me over the bars," Nick says to Tom. "Ok," Tom says. Tom tries to lift Nick over the bars, and after a lot of struggling they are unable. "Umm, guys, we're different, my strength is way down," Tom says. "It's the drugs, just relax, let's not panic, we're probably still dreaming." "Maybe it's not a dream," Diane says. "Look at your arms, there is no hair on them," Diane says. The two men look at their arms, and their legs and sure enough their bodies have become more youthful. "That's strange, but let's not worry about that now," Nick says. "Oh and Nick, your hair is kind of feminine, it's a little longer and cute looking. And Tom, yours is longer but in a little boy way, its cute," Diane says. Nick and Tom are in shock and both look at each other and then their hair, but they are interrupted. "OK, I'm done with this shit," Nick says and tries to rip off the plastic romper he is wearing, but his strength is not what it was; the fabric stretches, and he can't tear the outfit off. He sees the the romper is snapped around his legs but it's held on with little locks. "What the fuck is going on!" Nick yells in frustration. "Guys, I don't think this is a simulation, this is real," Diane says. "Well whatever is going on I'm not playing." Tom eventually gets under a blanket. and pulls the diaper off down his legs. He wraps the blanket around his waist. "You're right, why don't we just wake up from this crazy nightmare and get the hell out of here," Tom says. "That's a great idea," Diane says. "Oh I remember, Help Jennifer," Diane says, but nothing happens. "That's right, help Jennifer." Nick repeats and again nothing happens. "Guys I don't think this is a simulation, I don't remember the one I did feel this real, and the last thing I remember is entering a room and falling asleep, maybe we were drugged." "This isn't possible, we were in a simulation center, how can we have been drugged?" Tom asks. "You guys, did you see those big needles they injected into our arms, what did they give us?" Diane says. "They had to have been huge," Nick says. "I wonder where Alley is?" he asks. "I don't know, let's look for her," Tom says and they all begin to crawl around the crib, which is filled with baby toys, soft pillows and blankets. "I'm worried about Alley," Nick says, and then looks at Diane, "Diane, did you see what happened to Alley?" Nick asks. "The same thing that happened to us, but she's not here," Diane says. "I wonder if this is some sort of sick game, do you think someone is trying to get revenge?" Tom asks. "Maybe that bitch Jennifer sold us out," Nick says. "You mean the nice lady that ran the simulation, why would she do that, we didn't know her?" Diane asks. "I don't know, let's just figure a way out of here."

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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?"

I Don't Want to Be Big Cathy is an eight-year-old English girl. Cathy's parents are both doctors and separated. She is small for her age but feels pressured to be big and sensible. She doesn't want to be. When her mother goes to help in a disaster zone and her father is not available, she is sent off to Australia to stay with her Granddad. She has recently started wetting the bed at night and is mortified when that happens at Granddad's house. But Granddad's reaction is not at all what Cathy feared or expected. Chapter 1 "Did you see the news about the outbreak in the earthquake zone Dad?" Hank's daughter was on the phone. It was a fairly rare occurrence and when she did call, she never wasted time on salutations or small talk, often starting out like they where in the middle of a conversation. "Nope – none of our TV stations picked up on that one", Hank replied. Nor had he expected them to – it was Ashes Test Cricket week after all, so something as insignificant as a cholera epidemic added to the already abject misery of some villagers in northern Pakistan was unlikely to get a mention. "But I did get a news-flash from MSF this morning on the e-mail," he added. "I've sent off a sum." Hank was wealthy and could afford to be generous. "Oh goodie," his daughter said. "You'll be paying my salary!" Hank was not surprised. Camilla had studied medicine not to become rich but to make a difference and this was not the first time she had been posted by Médecins Sans Frontières amongst the neediest of the world. She was an expert on cholera management and her early involvement was unsurprising. "Will Cathy be staying with Kamal then?" Hank asked. His daughter and her husband had been separated for several years, but they had a very civil relationship for the sake of their daughter. Cathy was born with serious health problems, and it was probably only because both her parents were doctors, and very good doctors at that, that she was now completely healthy – if still very small for her 8 years. But the process had taken its toll on her parents' relationship, and they had separated, but worked in the same city (at different hospitals) and could thus share in their daughter's upbringing. "No, that's the problem Dad," Camilla said. "Kamal's not available. He went home to visit his folks for New Year, and I can't reach him. I tried to call his sister to get in touch, but I obviously got nowhere with her." Hank sighed. Kamal's sister had always hated Camilla with a vengeance. She never wanted her brother to marry a (nominally) Christian, thoroughly western, highly educated, and liberated woman. She was close to the cousin who believed she should have had 'first dips' at Kamal and had actively been sabotaging the fragile marriage, urging her brother do divorce Camilla and relocate to Pakistan. Hank knew his son-in-law well enough to know that was not going to happen. Nor would Camilla take up with anyone else, but he despaired at the two of them not patching up their differences. It was mainly pride that kept them apart; they could be so stubborn. "And?" Hank teased. He knew what was coming, but he wasn't letting his daughter off the hook that easily. "Dad, could she stay with you?" Camilla was almost pleading. "Bringing her with me is not an option." "Of course not," Hank agreed – shuddering at the thought of bringing a small child to a cholera-ravaged earthquake zone. "She is more than welcome, you know that. How do we work this?" With Camilla in the UK and Hank in Australia, the logistics were kind of daunting. "Eh, we're booked on a flight to Sydney via Singapore tonight," Camilla admitted. "If you can pick her up in Kingsford Smith then I can get a flight back to Karachi 4 hours later." "Short and sweet," Hank said with a laugh. He should have known his daughter well enough to know it was all planned. "I'd better book domestic flights right away. How is Cathy, by the way? Anything I need to know about?" "Not really," Camilla said evasively. "We've been having a bit of toilet troubles recently, but I guess it is all about attention seeking." "'Toilet troubles'?" Hank repeated. "Yes, well, you know, being wet at night again," Camilla said, sounding exasperated. "Not a problem," Hank said. "I know a thing or two about wet beds." Camilla didn't comment. She had conveniently repressed the fact that she was in night diapers, or nappies as they are called in Australia, until after her tenth birthday. And Hank didn't press the point. He had solemnly promised his daughter many years ago never to tell anyone and he was a man to keep his promises. Chapter 2 "Granddad!" The small girl's thrill cry of delight made everyone in the busy airport turn to look as she launched herself at the tall grey-haired man just outside the restricted arrival zone. She was very pretty with dark brown hair and eyes. She looked to be about 5 years old, and the man easily caught her and swirled her around. "Hi Pumpkin," he gushed. "It's so good to see you." "I am going to stay with you while Mummy helps the sick people," she said seriously, clinging to Hank like lichen. "That's right sweetheart," Camilla said. She had now caught up with her daughter, pushing a trolley with a large amount of luggage. "Granddad will look after you." She embraced her father too. "Thanks for helping out." Hank smiled. A widower and semi-retiree, he certainly had the time. He saw his only child and grandchild much too rarely, so he was happy with this opportunity. He occasionally did consultancy work, but not much in the summer – and most of it he could do from home. "Any time, for however long," he said with conviction. "When will you come and get me again?" Cathy asked her mother. "I don't really know," Camilla admitted. "It depends on how long it takes to stop the disease." "Will I have to go to school while I'm here?" Cathy demanded. "Hardly," her grandfather laughed. "It's summer holidays here you know. School's out for many weeks." "Silly, it is Christmas Holidays," Cathy laughed. "Sure is," Hank replied. "But down here we have Christmas in the summer." They had a meal together in the airport before Camilla had to check in again for her flight back to Karachi and Hank and Cathy transferred to the domestic terminal. Hank noticed that Camilla constantly urged Cathy to go to the bathroom – something that obviously pained the girl. Even as they hugged their farewell hugs, Cathy was urged to remember a toilet stop before the flight. "She does go on a bit about it, doesn't she?" Hank said conspiratorially when they walked towards the transfer train. Cathy looked up at him shyly. "I guess..." she faltered. She'd had a small accident on the interminable flight from London to Singapore so perhaps her mother had a point. The flight to Canberra was on a small turboprop with no direct access from the terminal, so as they were boarding they went outside for the first time and the heat of the Australian high summer hit Cathy like a brick wall. "It is summer," she exclaimed. "I thought you were only teasing." Hank laughed and explained all about different seasons on different hemispheres. During the flight he explained a lot about Australia, including its unique and not always harmless wildlife. The noise in the small aircraft, and the excitement of it all, kept Cathy awake, but once they had landed in Canberra, found Cathy's bags and Hank's car, Cathy was visibly flagging. It was only mid-morning, but her internal clock said late evening and before they were even out of the parking house, she was fast asleep. She woke up long enough when they arrived at Hank's house on the other side of the Australian Capital to take in the strange sounds and smells outdoors and to appreciate the pleasant room that was to be hers for the next while. "It used to be your mum's room when she was a girl," Hank said. "Uh huh," Cathy said. Hank stripped her down to her underwear, tucked her in and tip-toed out of the room. Cathy's last conscious thought was how nice the bedding was – very pink and very girlish and pleasant smelling. There was a crinkling noise when she moved, but before she could work out why she was out of it. Hank returned a little later and unpacked Cathy's suitcases, transferring her clothes to cupboards and drawers. It was all so small – and much too warm for the season. 'Miss perfect organizer must have forgotten about Australian summers', Hank chuckled to himself. He would have to do something about Cathy's wardrobe quickly. Chapter 3 Hank didn't want Cathy to swap day and night, so he intended to let her sleep until mid-afternoon, tire her out with some activity and hope she could then sleep a normal night's sleep. Kids usually get over jet-lag easier than adults anyway, so he wasn't concerned. He was working on a consultancy report in his office and kept an eye on the clock, deciding it was nearly time to wake up Cathy when a pitiful cry was heard from her room. Hank rushed in and found her sitting up in bed crying inconsolably. "What's the matter Pumpkin?" he asked. "Did you have a bad dream?" "No," she wailed. "I, I, I wet the bed." Indeed she had. The bedding was drenched. "Is that all?" he asked. "I thought something had happened to you!" He picked her up, carried her to the bathroom and started running a bath. "Bubbles?" he asked and held a bottle of strawberry scented bubble soap to her nose." "Yes please," she whispered shyly. He added the soap, frothed it up to a generous layer of foam, stripped off her wet underwear and plunked her in the bath. She sighed with pleasure. "Nice, isn't it?" he said with a smile. "Can you promise me not to fall a sleep" he asked. She nodded and he left her alone for a while. When he returned a little later, he brought a large fluffy towel and the lightest of her clothes. He lifted her out of the bath, rubbed her dry and got her dressed. The accident wasn't mentioned. Cathy was confused. If it had happened at home her mother would have been going on and on about it, but Granddad didn't seem to care. "Want to go and see some of the local wildlife?" he asked. Cathy nodded shyly, took the proffered hand gratefully and walked out in the scorching hot afternoon. They walked to a local nature area that separated Hank's suburb from the next. There was a small stream running through it and a group of small kangaroos were grazing the lush grass. Flocks of colourful Eastern Rosellas were foraging the shrubs and trees. Grandfather and granddaughter sat down companionably on a log, drank water Hank had brought and studied the kangaroos – who on deciding that Hank and Cathy were harmless had returned to eating. Growing up in a large UK city, this was the closest Cathy had ever been to wild animals – or indeed any animals apart from visits to the zoo. The heady scents of flowering trees and the loud noise of insects added to the mystique. Cathy was enchanted, but she could also feel her bladder pressing and reluctantly asked Hank if they could go home again. She just made it to the bathroom. Hank had found some of Camilla's old toys and urged Cathy to play with them while he cooked an early dinner. Cathy readily agreed – she was especially attracted to a near life-size baby doll. It could be "fed" water from bottles and would "wet" itself shortly after. The original toy nappies of poor quality were long gone, but Hank's wife had been a neo-natal nurse and had gotten hold of some proper miniature nappies that fitted just fine. Cathy was endlessly fascinated – and, like all children through the ages, was thrilled to play with toys that had been her mother's. They ate dinner, Hank read an exciting Australian children's book for Cathy and before long she was tired enough to go to bed. When Hank removed the bedspread Cathy was momentarily confused that the bedding was the same as earlier in the day. Crisp, clean, and sweet smelling; it was like the wetting episode hadn't happened at all. She let herself be tucked in, once more briefly wondered about the crinkling sound – and fell into deep sleep. Chapter 4 To her despair, Cathy was drenched again when she woke up next morning. "Granddad," she cried out and within moments Hank was there. He had in fact checked up on her a few minutes before and was forewarned, so he simply lifted her up, carried her out into the bathroom, stripped her out of her wet underclothes and plunked her into the waiting strawberry-scented foam bath. He kissed her on the top of her head and said "Breakfast when you've finished your bath. I was thinking pancakes today." Cathy was confused. Not one harsh word. No scolding. Nothing. And her favourite food for breakfast. When Hank returned a little later with a towel and some clothes, he picked her out of the bath, dried her and dressed her. "We got to get you some summer clothes today," he said. "It seems you mother forgot about the season thing. Silly mummy." Cathy giggled and gleefully agreed. They shopped in an air-conditioned shopping complex some distance from Hank's home, requiring a fair bit of driving. Hank decided to let Cathy choose what she wanted. He was concerned that her small size would mean she wouldn't be able to get the 'tween' stuff he expected her to choose. He needn't have worried; on the contrary: Cathy went for the little-girl stuff in bright colours (lots of pink) and wanted skirts and dresses only, no trousers, not even shorts. For accessories she again chose the brightly coloured stuff and wanted a lot of hair elastics to put her hair into pigtails. She got sandals and snickers and after a light lunch at the centre they drove home. She fell asleep in the car. Hank could see her nodding, her head getting heavier and heavier. Her right hand drifted up to her mouth, she sucked on the thumb and fell asleep. At an intersection, the stop/start eco engine cut out and Hank could just hear the hissing sound from Cathy's crotch as the hated jeans darkened. "Oh well, never mind," Hank thought. The upholstery of the child seat is easy to wash. They have to be. Cathy was mortified when she woke up – and once more confused by her grandfather's complete lack of concern or anger. "You get to wear one of the new skirts sooner," he said cheerfully as he led her to the bathroom and quickly and effectively rinsed her with the shower head. He decided that the car seat had gotten so little on it that it could be wiped with a very wet cloth and left to dry in the sun. Next he retrieved this morning's bed linen that had been washed and left to dry on the line outside. He folded it up neatly and put it in a drawer with several sets of the same pattern, resolving the mystery that had so intrigued Cathy. She also saw the rubber-backed mattress protectors, answering the question about the crinkling sound. But one thing she didn't understand: Granddad was so calm about it all! She played with the baby-doll all afternoon, taking it for a walk around the block in a lovely play-pram. They had dinner, read stories, and Cathy was off to bed. Chapter 5 Cathy was soaked once more the next morning. "Granddad," she called – this time with less despair in her voice. "I wet the bed again." "Did you sweetheart?" Hank said, appearing in the door. "Poor you. We'd better get you out of the wet things and have you washed." Cathy could contain it no more. "Granddad, how come you're not angry with me?" she asked. "Angry?" Hank repeated as if not understanding. "Angry about what?" "Angry with me, you know, wetting the bed," Cathy said. "Mummy always gets so upset with me," she added barely over a whisper. "But why should I get angry with you?" Hank asked. "It's not like it is your fault, is it?" "Mummy says big girls don't wet their beds – or their pants, like I did yesterday. Only little girls do that..." Cathy trailed off, tears trickling down her cheeks. "That's not true, is it?" Hank countered. "Huh?" Cathy asked, completely confused. "Little girls don't wet their beds and pants, do they?" Hank asked. "I don't understand," Cathy started. "Only big girls do that. Little girls wet something else, don't they?" Hank asked gently, holding up the baby-doll which was 'dressed' in only a nappy. "Oh, I suppose," Cathy said while the implications of that sunk in. "Besides, I don't want to be big..." she muttered in so low a voice that Hank could only just hear her. He picked her up, took her to the bathroom, undressed her and plunked her in the waiting bath. "I'll go get breakfast ready," he said and left Cathy to enjoy the strawberry scented foam. Hank had to work that morning, so Cathy played – mostly with the baby doll – but after lunch they walked over to a playground in the next suburb. It was a very nice playground with lots of activities and lots of other children. Cathy quickly got over her shyness and started playing with a group of young children while Hank sat on a bench in the shade and talked to the other adults, mainly mothers. Cathy was so absorbed with the playing that she missed the signals from her bladder. As she got up from squatting next to some of her new friends, she felt a spurt of pee escaping, but it was absorbed by her little cotton panties. She squeezed her pelvis hard and stopped the flow, but she knew she would need a toilet – and fast. She ran over to Hank. "Granddad, I need to pee." Hank could see from her little dance that she was serious and rushed her over to the service block at the far end of the playground. To his despair they were met by large "Closed for repairs" signs on all three toilet doors – women, men and disabled alike. "It seems we're out of luck Pumpkin. Do you think you can hold on until we get back?" Hank asked. "No," Cathy said. Tears were forming at the corner of both eyes. "Tell you what," Hank said. "Go sit on the grass over there and make sure you are not sitting on you skirt. Then just let go. The grass won't mind and, in that way, only your panties get wet." Cathy looked startled but then nodded and did as her grandfather had suggested. She sat down on the grass at the edge near the flowerbed carefully spreading out the skirt. It felt strange and for a while she couldn't will her bursting bladder to let go. Then she put her right thumb in her mouth, relaxed and moments later the flow started. When she had finished, she got up, looked around furtively to see that no one had noticed anything, and walked over to Hank. "Let's go home," Hank said and offered his hand. Cathy grabbed it and they walked off. She looked very small, and her gait was a little strange from the wet panties, but her skirt was quite dry. She was deep in thoughts. "I guess I am a big girl after all," Cathy suddenly said with a giggle when they were almost home. "What do you mean?" Hank asked slightly confused. "I wet my pants just like big girls do," Cathy said with another giggle that turned into a laugh. Hank laughed too. "Yup, so you did." He cleaned her up with the shower head, once more eliciting loud giggles. "It tickles!" she squealed, but she didn't want him to stop. Chapter 6 While dinner cooked in the oven and Cathy watched some children's TV, Hank slipped out to the local shops for some quick purchases. When it was time to put Cathy to bed after dinner and reading, Hank picked her up, looked her in the eyes and asked "OK, little girl or big girl?" Cathy was a first confused, but then she got it. She looked into her grandfather's mild grey eyes, seeing nothing but love and affection. "Little girl, please," she whispered. "OK", Hank said. "Let's clean your teeth and then come with me to your bedroom." Wearing only a tee-shirt, Cathy was placed on a towel on the bed and Hank proceeded to rub cream into her nappy area, then sprinkled her liberally with baby powder before putting a Pampers size 6 years on her. He then tucked her in. "Sleep tight Pumpkin," he said. "This time you will wake up dry." Falling asleep was not easy though – the forgotten sensation of being in nappies took some time to get used to. There was an additional crinkle when she moved around, but first and last she felt warm, snug, and safe. Not being in a wet bed meant the Cathy slept much longer. Hank had expected that and didn't wake her up before nine. "Good morning, Pumpkin," he said. "Slept well?" "Yes Granddad," Cathy said happily, stretching out – only now feeling the heavy nappy around her waist. "Eh, my nappy is very, 'eh, wet..." she trailed off. "Sure," Hank said. "That's what it's there for. Your bath is ready." He picked her up, carried her to the bathroom, stripped her of her tee-shirt and removed the well used nappy before plunking her in the bath. So went the following week. The nappies solved Cathy's night-time problems and her day time was full of fun and adult attention. Hank and Cathy played, read stories, visited the sites of the Capital, and had a great time. When Hank had to do some work, Cathy was very good at entertaining herself. On one occasion Hank had to call on a client, but she was home too having school aged kids as well. Her just teenaged twin daughters made much of Cathy – offering to baby-sit 'any time'. Mid-week late one night Camilla rang on a very bad satellite phone connection. She sounded despondent. "If Hell exists on Earth, it is here," she sighed. Hank who knew his daughter's usually unbreakable resilience was concerned. He sent another large sum to MSF – it was all he could do. Except of course assuring his daughter that Cathy was doing very well. "Any problems?" Camilla asked just before the call broke up. "None," Hank assured. "None whatsoever. And I've updated her wardrobe for the climate..." "Ups, yeah, I guess the suitcase was more geared for the winter holiday in Brittany we were planning on," Camilla said sounding fairly sheep-faced through the static. "Not to worry," her father assured her. "We're doing great." He didn't know if she had heard him though. The line was now dead. On Friday Cathy asked if they could go to 'the great playground' once more. Hank readily agreed, but remembering last week's episode and being fairly certain that no further work would have been done on the toilet facilities, he asked Cathy if perhaps she would like to wear a nappy – 'just in case'. After a bit of thought Cathy agreed. It felt strange to have a nappy on during daytime and Cathy was adamant she wouldn't need it, having gone to the toilet just before they went out. But once at the playground she forgot all about it. Several of her new friends from the week before were there and they quickly established a good game. On occasion they would 'check base' with their respective adults for a hug, a snack, or a drink of water, but otherwise they looked after themselves. "Your... ?." A woman started after Cathy had darted back to the sandpit. "Granddaughter", Hank offered. "Your granddaughter is a real cutie," the woman resumed. "And her language is really advanced for her age." Hank smiled. In her pink skirt, pink t-shirt, pink sandals and pigtails held by pink elastics with large pink plastic hearts Cathy didn't look a day over five. He simply nodded. "But she is still in nappies?" the woman asked. "Cathy has the occasional day-time accidents," Hank conceded. "And with the toilets here out of order, we took the precaution." "Wise," the woman agreed. "I wish I could get my Jimmy to be as sensible. He is also five and I have all kinds of problems when we are out for a long time, on road trips and so on. He absolutely refuses to wear a nappy. I can't count the number of times we've ended up with wet pants. I tried trainer pants, but he won't have a bar of those either." "Oh, we have no problems in that respect," Hank said. "Cathy would rather have a nappy on than wet clothes." At exactly that moment Cathy, hitherto completely absorbed in the game, suddenly realized that her bladder was full beyond capacity. Almost involuntarily she put her right thumb in her mouth and released the contents of her bladder into the nappy. The pee was absorbed quickly, leaving a warm feeling. Jimmy, sitting next to her didn't notice what happened to Cathy. But moments later, to his chagrin, he released a torrent of pee himself, drenching his underwear, shorts, socks, and sandals. "Mummy," he wailed and ran over to the bench. Cathy followed him. "See what I mean?" the woman said in a hopeless tone. "Better get you home buster," she said to her son. "Why couldn't you be a smart as your friend?" "I couldn't help it Mummy," Jimmy sobbed. "Neither could Cathy, but she was smart enough to be prepared," Jimmy's mother said, eyeing Cathy's visibly sagging nappy. "Prepared?" Jimmy sniffled. "Yes – she's wearing a nappy because she knows there is no toilet here," the woman said. "Really?" Jimmy sniffled. "Really," Hank confirmed. Cathy blushed slightly, but she didn't feel nearly as embarrassed as she thought she would have. As the sobbing and dripping Jimmy was let home by his mother, Hank turned to Cathy. "Sorry about that Pumpkin. Jimmy's mother spotted your nappy herself. I didn't know she was going to tell Jimmy." "That's OK Granddad," Cathy said. "It was a good idea to wear it." "You mean it is wet?" Hank said only now discovering the sag. "Oh, yes, I can see that it is." "Uh huh," Cathy said. "Well, I have brought another," Hank said, "but there is really nowhere I can change you." "That's OK Granddad," Cathy said again. "With Jimmy gone I think I'd rather go home anyway. I'm kind of tired." They walked home in silence. When they got to the house, Hank took Cathy to the bathroom and removed the saggy nappy. He washed and dried her. Holding a pair of panties in his hand he suddenly remembered Cathy's comment. "You said you were tired. Do you want a nap?" "Uh huh," Cathy nodded, looking down. "Big girl or little girl nap?" Hank asked. Cathy looked up at her grandfather. He was offering something she hadn't dare ask for, but really wanted. "Little girl", she whispered. Hank undressed her, but on a fresh nappy and carried her to her bedroom. In the mid day heat, she didn't need any clothes and he just covered her with a sheet. "Sleep well Pumpkin," Hank said, kissing her forehead. "Granddad will be in his office working." "OK," Cathy said and rolled over on her side. The snug feeling of the nappy made her feel safe. Safe and loved. She put her thumb in her mouth and fell asleep. She woke up two hours later. Her bladder was bursting again. She once more put her thumb in her mouth and let go. She could hear the hissing sound of her pee streaming into the nappy and feel it getting warm and tight, but she didn't feel wet. She felt wonderful. 'I don't want to be big, ' she thought. Chapter 7 When Hank picked up Cathy after her little afternoon sleep the very wet and obviously still warm nappy was not mentioned. He had brought a warm washer and a towel, so he washed and dried her, then dressed her in panties and a summer dress. "Run a long and play," he said, "Granddad needs to work a few more hours." "OK," Cathy replied. "But don't forget we're watching that show on TV tonight." 'That show' was some inane awards show that had been heavily promoted for weeks now. Hank wasn't sure that Camilla would have let Cathy watch it back home, but then he was sure she wouldn't let her have nappies either. Besides, it was likely to be harmless. He simply nodded. After dinner, Hank said "OK; we can watch the show together, but you need to get ready for bed first in case you get sleepy." "Not fair," Cathy pouted. "You promised we could have snacks." "I did, and I keep my promises, but it would be easier to pop you in bed if all I have to do is brush your teeth. Capito?" Hank said in his best Godfather imitation. The reference was lost on Cathy, but she happily found her nightdress – and a nappy and the cream and powder and moments later Hank put a nappy on his granddaughter – like it was the most natural thing in the world. Snuggled up closely on the sofa, Hank and Cathy watched the show and pigged out on an orgy of snacks and drinks (beer for Hank, soda for Cathy). They enjoyed themselves immensely. To Hank's relief, the show's two hosts – a pair of well-known comedians – were doing a great job with good laughs for young and old alike. The show was very long and with all the drinks, Cathy bladder was soon uncomfortably full. She was squirming but didn't want to leave right now at the most exciting moment when the winner in the category that interested her the most was about to be announced. Cathy looked up at her grandfather. He had noticed the squirming and just nodded. Cathy bit her lip and squeezed her pelvis hard. Hank kissed her forehead and rubbed her stomach. Bowing to the inevitable, Cathy put her thumb in her mouth and let go. In addition to the sheer relief, she also felt that strange pleasure she had experienced earlier when she woke up and wetted herself deliberately in the afternoon. At the same time, her favourite singer won the award, and her happiness was complete. Shortly after she fell asleep in her grandfather's lap. She was only barely awake when Hank cleaned her teeth, changed her into a dry nappy and plunked her into bed a little while later. The following morning, Cathy woke up early. The nappy was wet but not very heavy or uncomfortable. She decided to get up and watch TV while her grandfather slept. She got herself some cereal with milk and happily watched the morning show for small children. When that finished, she went back to her room and started playing with the toys that had been her mother's. When Hank finally woke up and went to check on Cathy, he saw that she was already up, sitting on the floor playing with the baby doll. From the doorway he could see her now heavy nappy. She stopped the game, but her thumb in her mouth and moments later the hissing sound announced that once more his granddaughter had reverted to being a little girl. "How about you finish changing Dolly and then I change you?" Hank asked. Cathy swirled around startled. Was Granddad really going to let her be in nappies all the time, she wondered. It would seem so. "Yes please," she whispered. Moments later the heavy nappy was off her, she got washed, powdered, and had a fresh nappy on. "I'll make the breakfast and call you when it's ready," Hank said. Cathy just nodded, smiled, and resumed the game. She couldn't have been happier. She was allowed to be a little girl. She had a nappy on. Not for sleeping and not for going places. Just to use – like she was a baby. They did go places though – to a matinee of a popular children's film. Cathy nappy was quite dry when they headed out, but she got popcorn to snack on during the movie and a large soda that went down quickly because of the salty snack. The movie was exciting. Perhaps a little too exciting, Cathy thought and before long she climbed up on Hank's lap. At the scariest point, she got such a fright she momentarily lost her bladder control and let out a large squirt of pee in the nappy. She was just about to cry but then remembered there was nothing to cry about. "I got so scared I wet myself," she giggled in Hank's ear. "That's OK Pumpkin. Little girls can wet whenever they like. That's why they have nappies on," Hank whispered back. "Hmmm," Cathy agreed. She put her thumb in her mouth, snuggled closely into Hank and let go again, this time on purpose. That happy feeling returned. It returned again when she wet herself once more during the long drive home. "Do you need a change?" Hank asked when they were back at house. "Yes please," Cathy said and led her grandfather by the hand to the bathroom. It was a scorching hot day and Cathy ran around in just a nappy until dinnertime. For the rest of the day, when ever Cathy felt the slightest urge, she would simply let go. And there was plenty coming – with the warm weather, Hank ensured she was drinking a lot of liquid. Chapter 8 During the following week Cathy was a happy little nappy girl. At no point after she scare in the cinema was, she unaware of wetting the nappy. In fact, that was true for day and night alike. From Sunday onwards she woke up dry every morning – but with a very full bladder. She would put her thumb in her mouth, let go and get the happy feeling. She never wore panties during the day, only nappies. Whenever she felt the nappy was too full or uncomfortable, she would ask Hank for a change. He did so without any comments. To his quiet relief she would always do number two on the toilet, but that wasn't commented on either. Unlike his daughter who thought the wetting was attention grabbing, he was sure that his granddaughter had been under a lot of pressure to 'be big'. What she needed was being allowed to be a little girl for a while. This Aussie Summer with Granddad gave her exactly that. On the Friday Hank had an unavoidable social/professional engagement. Remembering the sincere sounding offer by the teenaged twins, he rang his client, their mother, and asked if they could babysit. Assuring them that he wouldn't be far away and wouldn't stay out late, the mother's reservations were overruled by the girls' enthusiasm. The client was somewhat concerned about letting a pair of 13-year-olds looking after 'such a small girl', but Hank reassured her that Cathy as in fact 8, nearly 9, only very small for her age. "Bethany and Denise are going to look after you on Friday evening," Hank said when the agreement had been struck. Cathy was happy – she had liked the big girls a lot, but then she got concerned. "What about my, you know, my..." she trailed off and looked down. It was another very hot day, so all she wore was a nappy. Hank got it. "Your nappies?" he asked. "Not a problem. Babysitters need to take care of that all the time. Lots of kids are in night-nappies well into their school years and they will just be told you wear them during the day too." "OK," Cathy said. Granddad was so cool about it all. She hoped Bethany and Denise would be too. She could give up the nappies for an evening of course, but she didn't want to. She didn't have to. Bethany and Denise were way cool about it. Cathy was the little sister they never had, and they enjoyed looking after her. Even when told that Cathy was actually close to 9, not 5 that didn't change anything. They 'babied' her happily and nearly fought over who should change her. "How come you're wearing them now?" Denise asked when she had a moment alone with Cathy. She was more than a little curious about this nappy-business. "You didn't wear them when you visited us last." "I, uh, kind off, you know, kept being wet at night," Cathy said. "And then Granddad got them for me. And they feel good, and I fell, you know, safe." "And so you got to wear them during the day too?" Denise breathed. This was a concept she had never thought of. It had a strange appeal to her. "Yes," Cathy whispered. "It's nice not having to be big." That hit home. Unlike her twin-sister who was enjoying puberty – Bethany couldn't wait for her miniscule breasts to reach her mother's generous E-cup size; Denise had no desire to leave her childhood behind just yet. When Cathy was asleep and Bethany was watching TV, Denise snuck out to the bathroom, pinched a couple of nappies, and hid them in her bag. She was aware that they were too small for her, but she hoped she could somehow wear two and try out what it was like being a little girl herself. Hank actually spotted the nappies when he paid the girls for their babysitting duty a little later and Denise very reluctantly had to get her purse out. Luckily neither Bethany nor their mother who had come to pick them up noticed and Hank just winked to the blushing girl. Chapter 9 Cathy's happy 'extra summer' continued. Because of her small size, she had been held back from school a year – which was a mistake since she was exceedingly bright. Nevertheless, Camilla had promised the school that Cathy would keep up her school work while away, and so for an hour or so every day Cathy would sit at the table in the kitchen doing her year 5 school work, often 'dressed' in nothing but a nappy. Hank would watch her work on some problem in deep concentration, then see her 'faze out', her thumb drifting to her mouth and the tell-tale hissing announcing another wet nappy – before she resumed the work. Then, after a nappy change, a snack, a mid-day snooze and more often than not another nappy change, Cathy would resume playing like a five-year-old. She couldn't have been happier. All good things come to an end, the saying goes and mid February a very upbeat Camilla was on the phone again. "We did it Dad, we did it!" she exclaimed. "No new cases for the last week and no deaths for twice that. We'll hang in here for another week just to be sure, but then we're coming out to get Cathy." "That's lovely sweetheart," Hank said with feeling. "Well done indeed. Let me know when you get her so we can go up to Sydney to meet you." "Oh, don't worry about that Dad. We'll come and stay for a couple of days with you," Camilla said. "We'll let you know when we're there." "That would be lovely," Hank said in delight. Before he could get a chance to inquire exactly what his daughter meant by 'we' the line went dead. 'I wonder, I just wonder, ' Hank thought to himself, but he didn't say anything to Cathy about that. He did tell her about her mother's impending return of course. Cathy was out-and-out happy about that, as Hank had confidently expected. He did mention the nappy situation though, leaving it as an open choice for Cathy what she wanted to do. "Oh, I think I'll stop wearing them," she replied after a moment's thought. "Mum wouldn't want me to wear them and I couldn't wear them to school when I get home." She added a little wistfully. "I'll miss not having to be big." "Oh, I think there will be other things to think about that will make you happy," Hank said. "But we'd better start toilet training you," he added. "Going from nappies around the clock to completely dry in a week will not be easy." "That's OK," Cathy said. "It's not like I don't know when I need to pee." "Is that so?" Hank said – feigning surprise. "What about in the nights?" he added, genuinely not knowing. "I, uh, I've been, you know, dry every morning for a long time now," Cathy stammered – now worried that her grandfather might finally be annoyed with her. "Super," Hank said with feeling. "That makes it much easier. Don't panic if you have an accident or two, but let's work on avoiding them – you know, drink less before bed and remember to go to the toilet." "Sure," Cathy said with a big smile and a conspiratorial wink. "No need to upset Mum." A bit over a week later – a completely dry week later, Cathy and Hank were standing on the porch watching out for cars arriving. When a mid-sized rental parked at the curb, Cathy was beside herself with excitement. Then her mother got out – on the passenger side, and a moment later a tall handsome dark-skinned man got out from the driver's side. "Mum – Dad!!!" Cathy screamed and rushed down to meet them. Her embrace of Camilla was warm and genuine, but then she launched herself in Kamal's arms and wouldn't let go. "Dad, Dad, Dad. You came home. With Mum!" she kept repeating in a high excited voice. "So that's what you meant by 'we'," Hank said in his daughter's ear. "I was hoping that. Didn't tell Cathy though. I was sure she would love the surprise." "Yes Dad," Camilla smiled at her father. "Kamal was my saviour. When it looked the bleakest – two of my staff desperately ill, the rate of infection still going up and people dying like flies around me, he came to my rescue out of nowhere. We worked and worked and worked and got the epidemic under control. And at the same time, we fell in love all over again." Hank looked hard at his daughter. She bit her lip, then corrected herself. "That's not true. I never stopped loving him. It was all my stubborn pride. I guess all I needed was some excuse to let go of the anger and resentment. He gave me that again and again 20 hours a day for several weeks. I have never been so exhausted and never been so much in love." Three days later the little family left for the UK, promising to be back soon. Hank felt a big hole in his heart. "Thanks for everything," Cathy said after bestowing her grandfather with a final wet kiss. "My pleasure Pumpkin," Hank replied. "There is always room for my little girl in my house." Only Cathy heard and understood the emphasis on little girl. Her mother had asked in a generic way if there had been 'any problems'. Hank simply replied, in complete accordance with the truth, that no, there had been no problems. Cathy had looked up and smiled. Her secret was safe – as she knew it would be. Chapter 10: nearly a year later "Do you really think it is a good idea to go bush in your condition?" Hank asked worriedly, eyeing his daughter's clearly swelling belly. "Don't be such a worrier Dad," Camilla replied. "I'm fine. Pregnancy is not an illness. Besides I'm only there for show." "For show?" Hank asked incredulously. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Well, you know how Polio was so very nearly eradicated – but then some illiterate village clerics in outback Nigeria, one of the last places on earth where it is still rampant, got it into their heads that the immunization program was a Christian conspiracy to make Muslim girls infertile – and we lost the chance." Camilla said. "Ouch," Hank exclaimed. "That kind of thing can be pretty difficult to overcome." "Exactly," his daughter agreed. "So we'll use the same kind of tactics." "Huh?" Hank asked, not getting it. "Yes, well, we will tell them that the conspiracy was really to prevent Muslims from being immunized so that only they will die. The new program is paid for by the Sultan of Brunei – the world's richest Muslim. All health workers are Muslim women from Malaysia – many of them visibly pregnant. And the lead doctor is a respected Muslim from Pakistan – your son in law, bringing his also visibly pregnant wife," Camilla said, patting her belly. "They'll buy that." Hank laughed. "That's clever – it might just work." "We sure hope so," Kamal said. "As you say, it is nearly impossible to debunk conspiracy theories. But your clever daughter suggested that we out-conspiracy the previous one, as it were. It could just do the trick." He looked lovingly at Camilla. "It is certainly worth a try," Hank agreed. "And I take it no one will mention that the Muslim Doctor's Doctor-Wife is no Muslim herself?" he laughed. "Nah, we'll skip that one," Camilla agreed. "But that leaves you with the onerous task of entertaining Cathy for another summer," she said lightly. "I think I'll manage," Hank said with a dramatic sigh. "If only just..." Cathy's mock-outraged play-punch made them laugh all-round. They had spent a wonderful Christmas together in Canberra and now it was time for Camilla and Kamal to leave. They got into the taxi after a last final round of farewell hugs. Hank was standing behind Cathy with his left hand on her shoulder. They were both waving. As the taxi disappeared round the corner and out of sight, Cathy right hand went to her mouth. She sucked her thumb and released her aching bladder, completely flooding her jeans, socks, and shoes. "Granddad," she whispered barely louder than the hissing sound from her crotch. "I wet myself." "So you did Pumpkin," Hank said, "so you did. We'd better get you cleaned up and put you in a nappy." "Will last year's nappies still fit?" Cathy asked, taking Hank's proffered hand and walking back to the house. She had grown a lot since she was in Australia last. "No, I don't think so, "Hank answered, "But the new ones I bought will. You'll like them – they have a pretty pink pattern on them. And I've bought some nice skirts for you too." Cathy smiled happily. This was going to be a great summer. She walked a little awkwardly in her drenched jeans. She couldn't wait to be a care-free little girl in nappies and skirts again.

Elizabeth or lizzie for short is a coo of a bank but the stress she is under at work is unbelievable. She decides to posh a ad online to find someone who will take care of her. What they don't know is that she is a adult baby.

Summer with Aunt Amanda by Spark Part 1 My mom was deployed to the Middle East the summer after I finished eighth grade. My mom was a single parent, so I went to stay with my Aunt Amanda for the summer. She lived in this remote mountain town, and I didn’t know any kids my age who lived near her house. I was fourteen, which made me too young to get a job, and too old for summer camp. I would spend all summer with my two younger cousins. Scott was seven years old, and Debbie was five. In truth, I liked my aunt, even though she still treated me like I was a little kid. For some reason, she didn’t realize I was a teenager and didn’t need to be supervised all the time. My mom warned me, “Tommy, I know it feels like Aunt Amanda treats you like a kid, but if you can show her that you’re mature, she promised to give you some more freedom and responsibility. But that means that you have to be helpful and respectful. You might need to help with your cousins and, of course, clean up your messes.” The truth was, despite being fourteen and entering high school, I acted more like a kid. My mom still had to remind me to brush my teeth and tell me to take a shower at night. She constantly had to tell me to put away my things, and I never did any chores without being told to. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I just never thought about it unless she asked me. I also would pout and whine, and even tantrum, when I didn’t get my way. I don’t think I was a bad kid, but I was just really immature for my age. I’m not completely sure, but I think my mom hoped time with my aunt would help. My mom and aunt met halfway between their houses. Scott and Debbie were in the car with my aunt, and I noticed a diaper bag in the back of the car. That surprised me because I thought Debbie was already potty trained and figured Scott was too old for diapers, at least during the day. We did our goodbyes, and I took a seat in the passenger side next to my aunt for the three-hour drive to her house. Now, despite my mom’s warnings, I overindulged in chips and soda along the way, and my stomach was already rumbling when we got on our way. I figured it wasn’t an emergency yet. I didn’t want to ask my aunt to stop because she already warned me before we left. She asked, “Tommy, it’s a long drive, do you need to go potty before we leave?” That annoyed me and I replied, “I’m not a baby! I can hold it.” Aunt Amanda noted my sharp tone, “Ok, but remember, you can’t ask me to stop unless you go potty now.” The pressure grew and I tried to fart a little to relieve it, but it wasn’t just a fart. I felt something come out, and it wasn’t just a small leak. It was enough that I could feel it in my underwear, and it wasn’t long before I started to smell it. I was fourteen years old, and I just pooped my pants! I wanted my aunt to see me as a teenager and not just some little kid, but that wouldn’t be possible if she knew that I pooped my pants. I tried to be discrete, but Aunt Amanda noticed the odor. She asked, “Scotty, did you poop?” “No.” Aunt Amanda then asked, "Debbie?” “No, Mommy. I’m a big girl.” “I know you are, honey. It smells like somebody pooped, so we’re going to stop.” We pulled into a rest stop, and everybody got out. My aunt checked Scott and Debbie first. Scott didn’t poop, but he wet his Pull-Up and his mom said, “Scotty, that’s your second accident. That means that you need to go back to diapers. We’re going to take a break from potty training.” I tried to sneak off as she was dealing with Scott, but she saw me. “Where do you think you are going?” “I need to go to the bathroom?” “Not yet; I need to see if it was you.” “WHAT! Don’t treat me like a baby. I didn’t poop my pants!” My aunt shot me a stern look, “Do you need to go to time-out?” I shook my head and meekly said, “No.” “Ok then. I understand that you want me to treat you like a big kid, but I can’t treat you like a big kid unless you act like one. Do big kids throw tantrums?” “No.” “That’s right, and you just threw a tantrum, didn’t you?” “But …” I didn’t get a chance to finish my protest. “Did you just shout at me and cry that you didn’t poop?” I nodded. “If you didn’t, let me check.” “Please! Let me go to the bathroom. I’ll clean it up.” “Was it you?” I blushed and cried, “Only a little bit.” “So, it was you; why didn’t you say so?” “I was embarrassed.” She placed a change pad from the diaper bag in the back of her SUV and said, “Hop up so I can take care of your mess.” “Um. What? Can’t I just go to the bathroom and clean myself?” My aunt shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Tommy. I need to make sure you’re properly cleaned.” I protested, “I can do it myself. I’m not a baby!” I hoped that would make her realize that I didn’t need her to clean my butt, but she just rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Really? Do big kids poop their pants?” “It was an accident!” “Yeah, it was, and I need to make sure it won’t happen again.” “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m not a baby; I’m fourteen years old.” By this point, I was whining and begging. Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “Tommy, if you want me to treat you like a big kid, you have to act like a big kid. So far, I’ve seen no evidence that you can do that.” “What? I am a big kid. You can’t do this.” “Do big kids poop their pants?” I shook my head. “Do big kids pout and whine?” I cried, “I’m not pouting!” By this point, Aunt Amanda was tired of it, “Look! If you’re going to act like a baby, I’m going to treat you like a baby. I can’t potty train you if you’re not cooperating.” “I am potty trained. It was an accident.” She laughed and said, “I certainly hope so. I’d hate to think you did that on purpose. However, at my house, an accident means that you have to wear Pull-ups until you can show me that it won’t happen again.” She took a pacifier and ordered, “Open up.” I asked, “What’s that?” and as I did, she plopped the pacifier in my mouth. “That’s a pacifier. That’s what you get when you whine too much in my house. Keep that in your mouth until I take it out. Now be a good boy and lie down on the mat.” I resigned myself to having my aunt clean my messy bottom but pleaded for more privacy. In a muffled voice, because of the pacifier, I cried, “Can’t we do this in the baffroom?’ “I’m sorry honey, but you’re too old to take into the women’s bathroom. We have to do this out here.” “But you’ll see my --,” I was too embarrassed to say it in front of my aunt. Aunt Amanda grinned, “Honey, I’ve changed lots of little boys. I’ve even changed your diaper a few times.” I closed my eyes and let her lift my legs and clean my bottom, just like I was three years old. She finished wiping my bottom and then praised me, “You’re being such a good boy for me. It is so much easier when you’re not squirming.” She put my legs through a Pull-Up and then told me to lift up, so she could finish putting the Pull-Up on me. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” “I guess so.” I suddenly realized that everybody would see me in just the Pull-Up when I got up to put on my shorts. I asked, “Can you help me with my shorts?” “You want me to help you get dressed?” “I don’t want anybody to see me in just the Pull-Up.” She nodded and then said, “Let’s see what you have in your bag. You can’t wear the ones you were wearing because they need to be cleaned.” After she finished, she helped me up and asked, “Are you going to be a good boy?” I nodded, and she took the pacifier out of my mouth and said, “Ok, that’s good. Keep this in your pocket to remind you what happens when you pout.” She then pointed to the package of Pull-ups and said, “These are just in case. You still need to use the potty. If you can use the potty for three days, I’ll let you wear underwear again. But, if you don’t, you are going to stay in diapers until I can potty train you. Scotty is going back to diapers because he wasn’t using the potty, and the same thing will happen to you.” Part 2 I realized that my aunt was crazy! She was completely nuts, but at fourteen years old, I didn’t have any recourse. I was in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t run away. I couldn’t fight back and change her mind. I could only stay out of her way and not rock the boat. Fortunately, I wasn’t going to keep pooping my pants and I hadn’t wet the bed since I was ten. My aunt promised to let me wear underwear again if I could stay dry for three days, which seemed easy. I expected my mom to flip out when she found out what my aunt did. It was a Monday, and my mom promised to call me on Wednesday after she got settled at her base. I just had to make it until then, and this would all be over. I felt sorry for Scott, especially when I noticed how his mom was treating him. She treated Scott like he was two years old. He had to stay close to an adult all the time and he didn’t have the same privileges that Debbie or I had. In fact, he had to sit in a highchair for dinner. I wasn’t sure if he could help it when he peed, and I wondered if he really did need diapers. I didn’t notice much at first, other than my aunt putting him in a diaper after she put me in the Pull-Up. He and Debbie both sat in car seats. He was kind of a small kid and still fit in a car seat, so that made sense to me. I remembered that I used a car seat when I was his age. He also had a sippy cup in the car, but Aunt Amanda would probably make me use a sippy cup as well. It wasn’t until we got to their house that I noticed anything. First, Aunt Amanda told me, “Tommy, you’re wearing Pull-ups, but I expect you to use the potty like a big kid. Do you want Auntie to help when you go potty?” I was trying to hide my annoyance, but my tone didn’t do much to hide it. “I can do it myself!” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes and remarked, “Ok! Just remember to tell me when you go potty.” “WHY?” “Don’t yell at me. It’s not my fault you pooped your pants. Remember, if you want me to treat you like a big kid, you have to show me that you’re a big kid.” I huffed, “Fine! But why do I need to tell you when I go to the bathroom.” “I need to make sure you’re using the potty like you should.” I gritted my teeth and said, “Fine!” I needed to pee, and I had no intention of wetting the Pull-Up, not that I felt that was likely. I tried not to sound snarky, which is difficult for an annoyed fourteen-year-old. “Can I use your bathroom?” Aunt Amanda smiled, “Of course, honey. Remember, this is your house for the summer. It’s right down the hall.” I did my thing, and when I came out, she asked, “Did you go?” I rolled my eyes, “Yes.” “Did you pee or poop?” “I peed.” In a falsely excited voice that you would use if I was just learning to use the potty, my aunt cried out, “GOOD JOB! I’m so proud of you. Now, did you wash your hands?” In reality, I pulled my pants down low enough to aim (albeit my aim wasn’t all that great), zipped up, and left. I didn’t wash my hands, which was normal for me at the time. I replied in a halting and questioning tone, “Yes?” It sounded more like a question than a response, and I think my aunt knew I was lying. She looked at me and asked again, “Are you sure?” I gave away my deception with my stammer, “Um, uh.” “Why don’t you go wash your hands again? Remember, it’s very important to wash your hands after going pee-pee and poo-poo.” While I hated being talked to like I was a three-year-old, I knew that protests would get me nowhere. What I didn’t expect was that I would receive praise when I complied with my aunt’s absurd request. Aunt Amanda praised, “Thank you for being such a good boy; I’m glad you washed your hands.” I know this sounds strange, but I didn’t get much praise from adults back then. My mom tended to criticize me most of the time. She didn’t like my grades; she got mad when I played video games for long periods, and she was mad when I didn’t put away my things. It felt like anything I did was going to make her mad, and when she wasn’t mad, she ignored me. Even my teachers got upset with me, and when I was praised, it was backhanded praise. It was always something like; “See, look what you can do when you apply yourself.” Suddenly my aunt praised me twice in just a few minutes. Ok, it was for peeing in the toilet and washing my hands, but she sounded genuinely proud of me. My aunt changed Scott’s diaper in the living room, right in front of everybody. It seemed weird to me, but my aunt is crazy. It wouldn’t be unusual if he was only three years old, so my aunt didn’t think it was unusual now. At least, she acted like it was normal. Scott seemed resigned to his fate, although he begged me not to watch. Unfortunately, I couldn’t turn away. After his diaper was changed, Scott returned to his cheery self and asked, “Can Tommy and I go play in the yard?” They had a neat playset that he was excited to show me. My aunt shook her head, “I’m sorry, honey. Mommy has to put stuff away, and you need somebody to watch you.” He immediately protested, “But Debbie is playing outside.” “Debbie is a big girl, and big kids can play outside if they are careful.” “I’m a big kid.” Scott’s voice was more of a whine than a true protest, and I’m sure he knew what his mom would say next. “Do big kids wear diapers?” Scott smirked, “Sometimes?” “No, they don’t. Big kids use the potty. When you use the potty, you get big kid privileges.” I felt bad. A few years ago, Scott was still in diapers, but my aunt let him go outside as long as he stayed with me. I figured the same thing still applied and I said, “I can watch him.” “Sorry, but I don’t think so. You haven’t shown me that you are responsible enough yet.” “WHAT?” Aunt Amanda shot me a disapproving look and remarked, “Maybe if you can show me that you can handle responsibility, I’ll let you watch Scotty. But not yet.” She then looked over to Scott, whose face was disappointed, and said, “I’ll tell you what. Jessica is next door, and maybe she is willing to watch you while I get dinner ready.” Jessica looked close to my age. Based on her looks, I figured she was in middle school. Aunt Amanda asked Jessica, “Can you do me a favor? Scott wants to show his cousin the playset outside, but he’s been put back in diapers and doesn’t have big boy privileges.” Jessica smiled, “More accidents?” “I’m afraid so. He wet himself twice on the ride to pick Tommy up.” Jessica nodded and agreed to take us outside. It felt like she was babysitting me as well, which was strange. Jessica asked, “You look old enough to babysit; how old are you?” Now, I was somewhat embarrassed, but maybe I could impress her if she knew I was in high school. I guessed she was in eighth grade, and she might think it’s cool to date a kid in high school. That’s what boys my age should do, and I hoped that she could be my girlfriend for the summer. This summer might not suck so bad if I had a girlfriend. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get a girlfriend, and I only wanted one because that’s what I thought every boy my age wanted. I confidently gloated, “I’m fourteen. I’m going to high school next year.” Jessica didn’t seem all that impressed with a fourteen-year-old who wasn’t even allowed to watch his younger cousin for a few minutes. “Really? Why didn’t Mrs. Whitmore let you watch Scott?” I shrugged and said, “I don’t know; I think she is mad at me.” “Already? What did you do?” I hoped that sounding like a bad boy would help my cause and responded, “She talked down to me, and I don’t let people do that. I’m not a little kid, so you got to treat me with respect.” “I see.” She smirked with a kind of mocking tone, and replied, “Well, I’m younger than you. I’m only thirteen, and I’m going into eighth grade.” She then noticed the elastic band of my Pull-Up peeking above my shorts. “Is that a Pull-Up?” My eyes grew big, and I tried to hide it, but I am terrible at lying. Everybody knows when I’m lying. “NO! Do you think I’m wearing Pull-ups?” “Whatever, dude. It looks like you are wearing Pull-ups.” “Well, I’m not.” “If you say so. Just remember, if you are, you still have to use the bathroom. Your aunt is really strict about that.” I shook my head and turned my attention to Scott. They did have a cool playset. It had a jungle gym, a tire swing, and a teeter-totter. If I was still a little kid, I would probably think it was the coolest thing, but I wasn’t supposed to be impressed with stuff like that at fourteen. Scott whined when his mom pulled out the highchair. “Please, Mommy. I don’t want to sit in the highchair.” Aunt Amanda put a pacifier in Scott’s mouth and said, “That’s enough whining out of you. If you want to be a big kid, you have to use the potty. If you keep whining, you are going to sit in your playpen until everybody finishes dinner.” While I did feel sorry for Scott, I knew it was a bad idea to argue with my aunt. I ate in silence, hoping to avoid making her mad. Fortunately, Aunt Amanda left me on my own, but she did have to remind me to clear my plate when I was done. I guess my mom was right; I wasn’t very responsible. We finished dinner, and Aunt Amanda announced, “Ok, kids, it is time to get ready for bed. Tommy, go take a shower and then put on your PJs.” “What? It’s only seven o’clock.” “Yes. It’s almost bedtime. Go shower and put on your pajamas.” Her tone was getting more and more insistent. “I don’t wear pajamas. I don’t have any.” Aunt Amanda looked disgusted. “You don’t. That’s not going to work. It’s too late tonight, but tomorrow we need to buy you some pajamas. I guess you can wear one of Uncle Ron’s tee shirts tonight.” She waved her hands and warned, “Now take off your clothes, and go take a shower. Don’t make me ask you again!” I knew it was a bad idea to test Aunt Amanda any further, so I stripped down to let her inspect my Pull-Up. She praised, “It’s still dry; that’s good. Hopefully, you’ll stay dry for three more days, and you can get your big kid underwear back. Now it’s time for you to take a shower.” “But it’s early,” I complained. “No, it’s not. It’s almost bedtime. Maybe I’ll have to give you and Scott a bath together.” “I don’t take baths.” “Then go take a shower.” Once again, my attempt to establish independence failed miserably. Scott was getting his diaper changed on the floor when I came out. I didn’t have any clothes with me, so I wrapped a towel around my body and asked, “Where is my underwear?” Aunt Amanda pointed to a tee shirt and said, “I’ve got a shirt for you to wear, but I need to put a diaper on you first.” “What? I don’t need diapers.” She asked, “Are you sure about that? You pooped your pants today.” “I don’t wet the bed anymore, I promise. You can even ask my mom.” My case wasn’t helped by the fact that Aunt Amanda knew I wet the bed until I was ten years old. Aunt Amanda was unswayed and simply replied, “I’m sorry, but no. If you need Pull-ups during the day, you have to sleep in a diaper. That’s our rule. That way, you don’t have to worry about staying dry at night until we know you are potty trained during the day.” She was crazy, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I remarked, “I’m going to tell my mom.” Aunt Amanda was unimpressed and scoffed, “You are? Are you going to tell her you pooped your pants? Your mommy told you to follow our rules, right?” I nodded. “And in our house, big boys don’t poop their pants, do they?” I nodded. “Until I know that you can use the potty like a big boy, you need to wear a diaper at night. Now lie down, so I can get you ready for bed.” She held a pacifier in her hand and ordered, “That’s enough pouting. Now, open up.” I obliged and allowed my aunt to plop the pacifier in my mouth, and reluctantly laid down on the mat. I was trying to hold back cries and sobbed, “Why are you punishing me? It was an accident; I didn’t do it on purpose.” Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “Honey, I’m not punishing you for pooping your pants.” “You aren’t? It feels like it.” “Well, I’m not. Do you think wearing glasses is punishment?” “No.” “Well, it’s the same with diapers. I don’t want you to pee in your sleep, and the diaper protects it.” “But I don’t pee in my sleep,” I cried. “And if you can show me that’s true, you won’t need diapers anymore. Ok, it’s getting late. I’m going to read you guys a story, and then it’s off to bed.” My uncle’s shirt fit me more like a dress than a shirt. It dropped down to my knees, which made it look like I was wearing a nightgown. Aunt Amanda asked, “How does that feel, sweetie?” “I don’t like it. It feels like I’m wearing a nightgown.” “I agree, but it’s all we have tonight. We’ll get some pajamas for you tomorrow.” We snuggled up next to my aunt, and she told us a story of a boy in a magic land, which was kind of like Jack and The Beanstalk, but her original version. That’s what my dad used to do before he died, and I missed hearing his wonderful stories. After the story, my aunt took us to our rooms. Debbie’s room was a little girl’s room with a lot of pink, and there was a princess bed in the corner. Then we walked into a room that looked like a nursery with two cribs. Aunt Amanda said, “Tommy, you’ll sleep here with Scott.” I cried, “That’s a crib!” She calmly remarked, “Yeah, fortunately, Debbie has a big kid bed, so you can use her old crib.” I cried, “I can’t sleep in a crib. I’m not a baby.” I wanted to avoid the pacifier and stay calm, but it made no sense. I’m fourteen years old; it’s still daylight and I’m being sent to bed; I’m wearing a diaper, and now she is making me sleep in a crib! Aunt Amanda countered, “Little kids sleep in a crib.” “But I’m not a little kid, I’m a teenager.” “Big kids don’t wear diapers.” “But I don’t need a diaper.” “Did you poop your pants?” It was a vicious cycle. When I reminded her that I wasn’t a baby, she told me that big kids don’t wear diapers. I whined that I didn’t need the diaper, but she reminded me that I pooped my pants. I needed the diaper because I pooped my pants, and I needed to sleep in a crib because I was wearing a diaper. I tried more tactics to delay my bedtime. I said, “I’m not tired; it’s too early to go to bed.” Aunt Amanda countered, “You’re pouting, and you’re cranky, so I can tell you are tired. It’s time for bed.” “I’m thirsty.” She pointed to a baby bottle. “There is a bottle for you to drink.” She then warned, “Scott already knows this, but I want to make sure you know. Stay in your crib until I get you.” I suddenly found a flaw in her plan. I can’t pee in the toilet if I’m stuck in a crib. She had to lower the rails. “What happens if I wake up and need to pee? If I use the diaper, you’re going to think that I peed in my sleep.” She paused a second and then said, “Scotty sleeps through the night, so usually that’s not a problem. But there is a baby monitor on, and I can hear when you cry. Just remember, if I take you to the potty, you better pee.” In reality, at that age, I rarely woke up in the middle of the night. I usually slept until the morning, and peed after I woke up. I got in the crib, and I have to admit it felt nice when Aunt Amanda tucked me in. She calmly said, “Good Nite.” It was strange; I hated all the baby treatment, but the attention felt good. I never got that attention at home. Part 3 After his mom left, Scott asked “Do you wet the bed at home?” I replied, “No, I don’t pee at night.” I could have left it at that, but I felt an odd sense of companionship with Scott. I shared, “But I used to.” There was a sense of relief in Scott’s voice. He knew he wasn’t alone in his plight. “Really! How long did you wet the bed?” “I wet the bed until I was ten.” “Oh, did your mommy make you wear diapers as well?” I answered, “No. I used to just wet the bed, and then my mom would get mad.” Scott replied, “Mommy makes me wear diapers, but she doesn’t get mad if I’m wet. Debbie used to wet the bed too, but she stopped. Mommy told me that I’ll get a big kid bed if I can stay dry three times in a row.” I asked, “Do you wear diapers during the day all the time?” Scott said, “No, only when I have too many accidents. When I have accidents, I have to stay in diapers until Mommy can potty train me. Sometimes I even get to wear real underwear like other big kids, but then I pee my pants and have to wear Pull-Ups.” “How long will you have to wear diapers now?” “I don’t know. A few days. I can’t use the potty until Mommy lets me.” Aunt Amanda chimed in on the monitor with an annoyed tone. “It’s bedtime. No more talking!” My aunt is crazy! Scott is going to be treated like a baby until he stops wetting his pants, and it might be three more years until she lets him sleep in a real bed. That’s what would have happened to me. If my mom acted like Aunt Amanda, I would have slept in a crib until I was ten, and I used to wet my pans as well. I might have had to wear diapers during the day! At least I knew this wouldn’t last forever. I hoped my mom would make Aunt Amanda stop and everything would be back to normal. I thought about making my aunt wake up in the middle of the night to take me to the bathroom. I figured it would be a good punishment for doing this to me. However, there weren’t any clocks in the nursery. It was just a night light and curtains. Even if I woke up in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t know what time it was. I ended up falling asleep and slept until my aunt woke me up. “It’s time to wake up. I want to check your diaper.” She put her hand on the diaper and said, “Good, it’s still dry.” In a smug voice, I chimed, “See, I told you. I don’t wet the bed.” Aunt Amanda grinned and said, “We’ve got to make sure you are potty trained during the day before we can worry about nighttime.” She handed me a new Pull-Up and said, “Try to keep these dry, remember to use the potty.” I protested, “I don’t have accidents!” Aunt Amanda replied, “You did yesterday. If you stay dry through Thursday, I’ll give you big kid underwear on Friday.” “WHAT? It’s only supposed to be for three days. That’s the day after tomorrow!” Aunt Amanda shook her head, put the pacifier in my mouth, and warned, “Stop whining. Yesterday doesn’t count because you had an accident.” Scott sat in his highchair for breakfast, and then Aunt Amanda got ready to take us to Reno, which I think was to buy me some pajamas. I guess they had to buy some other stuff as well, but I didn’t pay too much attention. I just followed along. Other than the thick padded underwear that I was wearing, my aunt didn’t treat me much differently than I got from my mom. She even let me go into the men’s bathroom by myself, which shouldn’t have sounded like a big deal, but it was. On the other hand, Scott was pushed in a stroller, and Debbie kept close to her mom the whole time. Debbie might have technically been a big kid, but she was still only five years old and didn’t have much independence. I got into a small tussle with my aunt at the store. I wanted to buy something from the men’s section, but my aunt knew those clothes were too big for me. At the time, I wasn’t quite big enough for men’s clothes, but baggy clothes were more popular. I pointed to the men’s section and whined, “I want to go there.” “No, Tommy. Those are too big. You still need boy’s clothing.” “But I like them big.” “I’m not buying clothes that fit you like a dress.” I stomped and huffed, “It’s not fair.” I had a sour demeanor and didn’t like anything that my aunt showed. She eventually got tired of it and just picked something out herself. To my dismay, most of the pajamas had themes that were for younger kids. Things like Pokémon or Power Rangers. She remembered that I liked airplanes when I was younger, and she found a pair that had airplanes on it. She showed them to me and said, “How about these? You like airplanes, don’t you?” These would have been the pajamas that I would have picked if I was younger, and I really do like airplanes. If I had to get some pajamas, they wouldn’t be so bad. I held back my excitement and answered, “They are kind of babyish.” “Well, I think they look cute. Go try them on.” By the way, fourteen-year-old boys do not like ‘cute’ things. “Do I have to?” “Yes, you do; I want to make sure they fit.” Fortunately, Aunt Amanda didn’t make me parade out of the dressing room, and I got to take them off once she knew they fit. She didn’t make Scott sit in a highchair at the In-n-Out. I guess she didn’t think that was necessary, and it saved Scott a whole lot of embarrassment. Other than making me tell her when I went to the bathroom, she left me alone after we got home. She was concerned that I hadn’t pooped and wanted me to try and poop when we got home. No fourteen-year-old boy wants to discuss bowel movements with his aunt, but she reminded me that I was supposed to tell her when I used the potty. We followed the same routine that night, which included me having to strip down to let my aunt inspect my Pull-Up. She noted that it was dry and praised me for it. “Good job. You get a smiley face. Only two more days until you earn your big kid pants.” I mumbled something under my breath, and she chastised me for being a sourpuss. I was once again back in the nursery, sleeping in a crib and it was still light outside. Part 4 I was dry again in the morning, and I made sure to gloat when Aunt Amanda woke us up. She said, “You’re dry. Do you need to go pee-pee?” I nodded and smugly said, “See, I told you.” My aunt remarked, “First, we need to make sure you stay dry during the day.” I wanted to tell her that I was already potty trained, but I knew it would just put us in a vicious cycle. I did my business in the bathroom and then took a seat next to Scott in his highchair. My aunt looked at me and asked, “Did you pee, or did you poop?” I tried not to sound snarky, but I probably did. “I just peed.” I was a little more excited when I added, “And I washed my hands, too.” Aunt Amanda smiled and said, “Good job, and you did it without being reminded.” I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely proud of me, or just being snide. It didn’t matter at the time; I was too excited about the phone call from my mom later that morning. All I needed to do was let my mom know what my aunt was doing. There was no way my mom would let Aunt Amanda keep treating me like a baby. My mom was always telling me that it was time to grow up, but that wouldn’t be possible if I was literally treated like a baby. The call was just before lunch, which was nighttime at my mom’s base. She wasn’t allowed to tell me where she was, but it looked like just another Army base. I have to admit, it was kind of cool seeing her. It had only been two days, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, I missed her. However, I had business to conduct. I had to let her know what my aunt did. The first thing I said was, “Mom, can I go somewhere else for the summer?” My mom shook her head. “I’m afraid not, honey. Aunt Amanda is the only person who can watch you this summer.” “But Aunt Amanda is crazy!” “Why do you say that?” “Mom! She is making me wear Pull-ups, like the kind that little kids wear.” I figured that would get her attention, but Mom didn’t seem surprised. “Aunt Amanda told me that you pooped your pants in the car on Monday.” I tried to think of an excuse, “Yeah, but.” “She wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” “Mom, I’m fourteen. It won’t happen again.” “It’s only been two days; how do you know it won’t happen again?” I cried, “It was an accident.” Mom countered, “Isn’t that what the Pull-ups are for?” I smirked, “If I was three.” Mom was not impressed and said, “You pooped your pants, and you’re fourteen. What does that say about you?” It wasn’t going how I expected. “Mom! She is making me sleep in a crib, and I have to go to bed at eight o’clock. It’s not even dark yet!” I could have told her about the diapers, but I didn’t want her to know about that. My mom was undeterred, “Tommy, I told you before you left that you’re going to have to follow Aunt Amanda’s rules.” “But.” My mom interrupted me, “I know that I did things differently when you were little but let me ask you this. Are you going to poop your pants again?” I immediately shouted, “No!” “Are you going to wet the bed?” “NO!” “Good, then it’s working. You know that Scott still has problems making it to the potty, just like you did.” My mom liked to remind me about my potty issues when I was little. “Scott has to wear Pull-ups when he doesn’t make it to the bathroom, and she has to treat you the same way. It’s only fair, right?” I guess I was supposed to nod in agreement, but I just rolled my eyes. Mom continued, “Look, I don’t expect you to have any issues. It’s just three days, and then everything will be back to normal. You’ll get your own room, and you can stay up as late as you want. She will leave you alone and let you do whatever you want, within reason.” My mom saw the disappointment on my face and scoffed, “Tommy, don’t give me that look. You’re a lot older than Scott, so I expect more from you. Pooping your pants is just not acceptable. At the very least, you should have to follow the same rules.” I shook my head, but Mom ignored it. “Maybe if I made you wear Pull-ups and diapers when you were younger, you wouldn’t have kept wetting your pants.” I sulked in protest, “I’m not a baby!” It was supposed to sound defiant and strong, but it came off more like a whine. My mom rolled her eyes and gave me that disapproving look that only a mom can give. “Tommy Michael Montgomery,” she used all three of my names, and any kid knows that’s never good. “Aunt Amanda told me that you’ve done nothing but pout and sulk. If you don’t get your way, you pout and throw a tantrum. I already told you that if you want Aunt Amanda to treat you like a teenager, you have to act like it. You have to be mature and responsible. You have to help around the house and do your chores without being asked. Don’t whine, don’t pout, and don’t throw tantrums when you don’t get your way. If you keep acting like a baby, you should be treated like one.” That conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, and I fought back the tears when we hung up. I didn’t mean to cry, but I felt hopeless. I was stuck living under my aunt’s absurd rules for the whole summer. Part 5 After my mom failed to come to my rescue, I sulked for the rest of the day, which I guess kind of proved her point. I didn’t get my way and just moped around for the rest of the day without talking to anybody. In my mind, it was safer to stay silent. If I did talk, my aunt would just make me suck on a pacifier to keep me from pouting. I kept to myself, read some books, and looked at my phone. I wanted to go to my room, but my room was the nursery with the crib in it. Fortunately, my aunt left me alone. She asked me to do some minor chores, which I complained about until she said, “Tommy, don’t you want me to treat you like a big kid.” Oddly, I wasn’t treated like a baby during the day. It was nothing like how she treated Scott, who wasn’t allowed to do much of anything. Scott had to stay close to an adult, or Jessica at all times. He had to take a nap after lunch, and there was the highchair and sippy cups. He also didn’t have any chores, short of putting the toys back. I wasn’t even treated like Debbie, who technically was considered a big kid, but she was still kind of little and needed to be watched closely. She still took a nap, but she slept in her own bed. Other than the Pull-ups, my aunt didn’t treat me that much differently than I hope she would have. My aunt didn’t even have a problem letting me explore the property near their house, which was something that my mom didn’t always allow. Things always took a drastic turn after dinner. That’s when I had to take my shower, get diapered for bed, and then put in a crib at a ridiculously early hour. From dinner till morning, I was just a little baby who wore diapers and slept in a crib. Complaining about it didn’t do any good, and I didn’t hate all of it. To be honest, I really enjoyed our story time when we would cuddle up next to my aunt and listen to her wonderful stories. I kind of wondered what it would feel like to pee in the Pull-up. It’s no secret that I wet the bed, and even had accidents during the day when I was younger, but my mom stopped using diapers and Pull-ups after I started school. She said, “You’re a big kid and big kids don’t wear diapers.” I wished I could just go back to diapers and not wake up with pee all over me. Especially because my mom would yell at me, and I was still crying when I got to school. I asked Scott, “What happens if I accidentally pee in my Pull-up?” I had to do that on the sly, because I didn’t want my aunt or Jessica to know what I was thinking, nor did I want anybody to think that I really needed them. Scott answered, “Mommy just helps me change, and then reminds me that big kids use the potty. Mommy puts me back in diapers if I do it again.” I asked, “Does she get mad?” My mom used to get furious when I had an accident. Scott shook his head, “No. Mommy never gets mad. Even when I have to wear diapers. She says that I’m just not ready, and that’s why I still need diapers.” I knew that was true. I never saw Aunt Amanda get upset about changing diapers, nor did she say anything mean. She had a really strict ‘no teasing’ policy in her house, so I didn’t even have to worry about getting teased. I could wet myself one time, and nobody would say anything. However, I didn’t want to give Aunt Amanda the satisfaction. I wanted her to know just how ridiculous it was to put a fourteen-year-old kid in a Pull-up and make him sleep in a crib like a baby. I used the bathroom and didn’t have any accidents. Aunt Amanda inspected my final Pull-up Thursday night after dinner, and upon seeing that it was still dry, put a third smiley face on my chart. “That’s three smiley faces in a row, do you know what that means?” I smugly replied, “It means I don’t have to wear these stupid Pull-ups anymore.” My aunt didn’t like the tone of my reply and shot me a terse look, “Is that what you say Tommy?” I immediately shrank back down and meekly mouthed, “Sorry.” I couldn’t risk giving my aunt ammunition to extend my time in Pull-ups. She nodded, and so I answered more appropriately, “It means that I can wear underwear tomorrow.” Aunt Amanda nodded and announced, “Yes, Tommy has proven that he is ready for big boy pants. No more Pull-ups for Tommy!” My cousins both raised their hands and shouted, “Hooray for Tommy!” She had the nighttime diapers laid out and I asked, “What about those, why do I still need to wear diapers at night?” Aunt Amanda kept telling me that we were only concentrating on my daytime potty training, so I should have realized I would have to wear a diaper for a few more nights. “Now that we’ve taken care of your potty training during the day, it’s time for you to show me you can be dry at night.” I pouted, “That’s not fair! I haven’t been wet all week. Why do I still have to wear diapers?” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes, grabbed a pacifier, and ordered, “Open up.” I started to protest, but she plopped the pacifier in my mouth and said, “We don’t whine in this house. Go stand in the corner and I’ll get you when I finish with Scotty.” I stomped to the corner and sulked as my aunt took care of Scott. I heard her giving Scott loads of attention. I once saw a kid getting treated like a baby by his mom and it was so different than what my aunt was doing. That kid’s mom was mean and making fun of him, while my aunt didn’t even seem mad. Part of me was mad at her. I couldn’t believe my aunt was doing this to me, but another part of me was mad at myself. I knew I wasn’t helping myself by throwing tantrums. Things were so much easier for me when I just let her do her thing. What if she decided I wasn’t a big kid yet, and made me wear diapers all the time? Aunt Amanda didn’t seem mad when she came to the corner. I mouthed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get mad.” My aunt hugged me and said, “I know honey. You’re just over-excited and tired. Let’s get you diapered and ready for bed.” I had tears in my eyes and asked, “Do I still have to wear Pull-ups tomorrow?” She had a confused look and remarked, “Of course not. You earned big boy pants, remember?” “But I threw a tantrum.” “That’s not good, but if you don’t make it a habit, we won’t worry about it.” I asked, “How much longer do I need to wear diapers at night?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Now that we know that you are potty trained during the day, it’s time to see if you can stay dry overnight. If you are dry three nights in a row, you can move to Pull-ups.” “Will I have to sleep in a crib after that?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and reminded me, “Big kids sleep in a bed. You’ll get to sleep in the guest room. That’s where you were going to sleep until you pooped your pants.” “What about my bedtime?” “You’ll be a big kid, so you should get a big kid bedtime. You’re fourteen, so this summer will be a good chance to show that you can manage your own bedtimes. First, show me that you are ready, and I’ll treat you like you’re in high school. Does that sound good?” I had time to think after my aunt finished her story and tucked us in our cribs. I allowed my aunt to put me in a diaper and make me sleep in a baby crib, even though I didn’t wet the bed, and then she made me feel guilty when I complained about it. She wasn’t only crazy; she was evil. I did the math in my head. Three nights would take me to Sunday morning, which was a week after I got here. I wondered if this was all part of an elaborate plot my mom concocted to get me to grow up. Maybe she planned this whole thing! I get treated like a baby for one week just to make me realize I shouldn’t be acting like a child. I thought about punishing my aunt by using the diaper, but based on how she treated Scott, it didn’t seem like much of a punishment. She didn’t seem to think it was a big deal to change his diaper, even when it was poopy. I would just have to wear diapers a while longer. Aunt Amanda would wake us up around seven o’clock, which was much earlier than I wanted to get up. However, my bedtime was so early that I wasn’t groggy in the morning and didn’t get cranky. My aunt praised me when I was still dry the next two mornings. She then removed the diaper, wiped the area, and let me get dressed in the bathroom. She typically waited until Scott had breakfast before changing his diaper, so he ate breakfast from his highchair while staying in his soggy diaper. For me, everything was normal during the day, just like it would be if I never had to wear Pull-ups. Aunt Amanda gave me some chores, which I would eventually do after getting tired of her nagging, and then leave me alone for the rest of the day. I usually kept myself entertained and didn’t bother anybody. Aunt Amanda worked from home and paid Jessica to help keep an eye on Debbie and Scott. My aunt did most of the parenting, but Jessica was there to help. It was very clear that my aunt felt Jessica was more mature than me and far more responsible. My aunt didn’t think I was mature enough to watch Scott or Debbie, even if we were just outside. Jessica didn’t seem all that interested in me. I think she knew about my Pull-ups, and she probably knew the second crib was mine, but she mostly ignored me during the day. At first, I tried to avoid being around my younger cousins, because I felt like another little kid. However, as the week progressed, I didn’t seem to mind it and spent more time around my cousins. Scott liked a lot of the same things I did when I was little, so it was kind of fun playing with him. I started to get these weird thoughts in my head. It is hard to explain, but I was a little envious, especially with all the attention everybody gave to Scott. I still counted how many days I had left in diapers, but I started to accept and even eagerly anticipate the nightly diapering routine. By Saturday night, I offered no resistance when it was time to get ready for bed and compliantly allowed my aunt to change my diaper. It was enough that she commented, “My, you are so calm and being such a good boy. I didn’t even have to tell you to stop wriggling.” She started to say something else and stopped herself. I remember thinking she was going to say, “It is almost like you like it,” but then decided to stop. I was desperately trying to convince myself that I hated it, but I knew that wasn’t true. She finished up, hugged me, and said, “If you’re dry tomorrow, I won’t need to do this again. You won’t need diapers anymore. Isn’t that nice?” I answered with an awkward, “Yeah.” I wanted to sound excited and with a huge sense of relief. My nightmare was finally over, but it was hard to hide the reality. I think I came off sounding disappointed. I tried to regain my composure and asked, “Will I still have to go to bed so early?” Aunt Amanda smiled and answered, “Of course not. You and Scotty have an early bedtime because little kids need more sleep. If you show me that you’re not a little kid, I can treat you like a big kid.” I said, “Thank you,” but part of me was disappointed. I didn’t think my mom cared about me anymore. It felt like Aunt Amanda really did care, especially when she was putting me in diapers and being so nice. I wondered if that would stop when I didn’t need diapers. This was my sixth night wearing a diaper, and I still hadn’t peed in one. I had the Pull-ups for three days and never wet one. I asked Scott how it felt when he wet his diaper, but the question sounded weird, and Scott didn’t know how to answer. This was my chance to see what it felt like to pee in a diaper. I didn’t think Aunt Amanda would get mad. That’s what the diaper is for. It would mean another three nights in the nursery, but that didn’t seem so bad. I felt a slight pressure on my bladder. It wasn’t that strong, but it was enough that I could pee if I wanted. I thought, “Why not just pee in my diaper?” It was harder than I expected, but I eventually started to pee. The warmth spread and I fell back asleep wondering what my aunt would say in the morning. Part 6 It’s a lot harder to start to pee when you think you should only pee in the toilet. I had to think about standing in front of a toilet, and really concentrate, but I managed to pee in the diaper. I rolled over and fell back asleep. I was already awake when Aunt Amanda came into the nursery. I let her discover my wet diaper when she checked. In my mind, it sounded more believable if I didn’t know I was wet. She checked Scott first, and it wasn’t a surprise that he wet his diaper. Scott always woke up with a wet diaper and my aunt just said, “You’re wet again, but that’s why you need diapers. We’ll change it after breakfast.” She came to me and gently tapped, “Are you awake?” I nodded and she replied, “Let’s see how you did last night.” She looked surprised when she felt my diaper. I hadn’t wet my diaper all week, so I’m sure she expected me to be dry. “Uh-oh, it looks like you wet your diaper. I guess it’s a good thing you wore one last night.” I pretended to look disappointed, but in reality, I loved it. Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “It’s ok, honey. Sometimes these things happen. Let’s have some breakfast, and then we will take care of your wet diaper. Do you want to go pee-pee in the potty?” I shook my head, even though I needed to pee. It wasn’t urgent because I peed two more times that night. I asked, “Do I have to wear Pull-ups, or a diaper today?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “No, honey you’ve shown me that you are potty trained during the day, it just doesn’t look like you’re ready for a big boy bed. I think you’ll get there, but you have to sleep in here until you do.” I guess I was supposed to be upset about that, but I meekly accepted my fate. My aunt pulled a second highchair from the closet and brought it to the table. I asked, “Do I have to sit in that?” My aunt answered calmly and matter-of-factly, “Yes, little kids sit in highchairs.” It made no sense, but a part of me was curious about what baby treatment was like. I complained, “I’m not a little kid.” It wasn’t a strong protest; I was genuinely confused. This was the first time she made me sit in a highchair. Aunt Amanda asked, “Is your diaper wet?” I had to admit the truth and nodded. She said, “Ok then, hop up. In my house, little kids who wear diapers have to sit in a highchair.” Debbie saw me sitting in the highchair and asked, “Why is Tommy in a highchair?” “His diaper is wet, and that means he eats breakfast in a highchair.” As if that was completely normal, Debbie responded, “Oh, yeah.” It sounded like this made perfect sense to her and wasn’t anything to be concerned about. She also knew enough to avoid saying anything that could be considered teasing. I know my aunt wanted to humiliate us. We wet our diapers like babies therefore we should be treated like babies. She tied a bib around my neck, cut my pancakes into bite-sized pieces, and handed me a sippy cup full of juice. It was just like she did with Scott, and just like she would if I was two years old. I was embarrassed but oddly enjoyed the spectacle. She changed my diaper after breakfast, and it was more involved than any of the previous diaper changes. When my diaper was dry, my aunt just did a quick wipe and then sent me to the bathroom to get dressed. This time, she took her time and made sure the diaper area was clean and dry. She also took time to clean my butt, just like she did when I pooped my pants. It was more than just a few wipes, so I don’t think I was very clean down there, but my aunt didn’t say anything about it. I think it was about five minutes later when she finally handed me my underwear and said, “Off you go, honey. You’re a big boy now.” I was the same awkward teenager I always was. Based on how she treated me that Sunday morning, I knew I would get the same treatment Scott was getting if I wet myself during the day. I knew her system. I would have to wear Pull-ups if I had an accident, and I would go back to diapers if I had too many accidents in Pull-ups. I knew I would get the full baby treatment, just like Scott. I wasn’t sure how long the baby treatment would last, nor did I know how many times I could wet a Pull-up before getting put in a diaper. It was almost a full week, and Scott was still in diapers all the time. Scott never asked to use the bathroom, and she never took him. She said they were taking a break from potty training, but I didn’t know how long the break would be. What if she makes him do this all summer? What happens if she puts me in a diaper? I’d like to say that the bug was out of my system. I peed in my diaper and knew what it felt like, which is what I wanted. However, I wanted it more, and not less. I thought about wetting my pants that Sunday afternoon. I might have done it, but I was too scared. I wanted to wet my diaper again the next night, but it is hard to pee in a diaper when you are used to using the potty. I slept the whole night and was still dry when my aunt woke us up. She took off the dry diaper, gave me the appropriate kudos, and sent me on my way. I ate breakfast from a normal chair, and my aunt went back to ignoring me most of the time. That was the day that Scott started potty training. I was a single child, so I didn’t know how little kids learned to use the potty. My experience was a bit rough. I remember my mom getting mad at me when I didn’t make it to the potty, but I didn’t understand how kids learned when they needed to go. My aunt seemed to be calmer and a lot nicer than my mom. She didn’t yell and didn’t make him sit on the toilet unless he asked. When she knew he was ready to poo, she asked, “Scotty, do you want to try to use the potty?” He nodded and she praised him when he pooped in the toilet. She then asked me, “Tommy, Scotty wants to use the potty like a big boy. Can you show him how big boys use the potty?” I was confused and answered, “Yeah? what do I have to do?” “It is really easy, just make sure to take Scotty with you when you use the potty. You can model how big boys use the potty.” I was fourteen, and it was weird bringing my seven-year-old cousin with me when I peed in the toilet. I didn’t want to do that, and I am ashamed to admit this, but I wanted Scott to stay in diapers. I think I only did it one time, and that was when my aunt was watching. That first day, my aunt asked Scott if he needed to use the potty and praised him when he went. The second day, which was a Tuesday, she told him, “Scotty, big boys don’t need to be told when it is time to use the potty. If you need to use the potty, ask me and I will take you.” I think Scott asked her a few times, but most of the time, he just used his diaper. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or couldn’t tell when he needed to pee. Either way, my aunt didn’t get mad. She just said, “I guess you are not ready. We’ll take a break and try again later.” I figured my aunt wanted to put Scott in Pull-ups, just like she did with me after I pooped my pants. If he did make it three days without an accident, he could wear underwear. I started to do the math. I wanted to see how long Scott would have to wear diapers, and how long until he could get to full big-boy status. At least, that’s what I told myself. In reality, I wanted to know how long it would take to go back to normal after being put in diapers. It was a whole week until my aunt started to potty train Scott again, and I figured that’s what would happen to me. I knew it would be another three days in Pull-ups, and then three more nights wearing diapers to bed. Obviously, that included sleeping in the crib the whole time and getting treated like a baby while wearing a diaper. That was only two weeks, which didn’t seem that bad. I knew I would have to act fast if I wanted to do this. My aunt just put Scott back in diapers, and it would be another week until she tried to potty train him again. If it happened soon, Scott and I would be babies together. However, there was a chance that Scott would be potty trained and out of diapers, while I still needed them. It sounds weird, but I didn’t want to be the only one treated like a baby. I considered wetting my pants right there, but I had to make it seem real. It would look suspicious if I started to wet my pants for no reason. However, my aunt knew I used to wet the bed, and I just wet the bed again on Sunday. Maybe, if I wet the bed, she would think it came back. It made sense, to me, that if I was already wetting the bed, I could have accidents during the day. That night I set my plan into action. First, I peed in the diaper before I fell asleep. My aunt had to think I was wetting the bed again, and I couldn’t risk another dry diaper. That meant I had to sleep in a wet diaper all night, but I didn’t mind. The second part of my plan came after our highchair ritual. Aunt Amanda was working from the patio as I played with Scott and Debbie. We were running around like little kids, and I felt the urge to pee. I wanted to make sure I could pee when we were outside, so I didn’t go before we started to play. I made sure nobody was watching, closed my eyes, and started to pee in my pants. I felt the warm liquid stream down my legs and looked down at the obvious sign that I wet my pants. This set up a problem I hadn’t considered. My aunt had to find out, but how to I make sure it isn’t obvious that I wet myself on purpose? I asked myself, ‘What would I do if I really did wet my pants?’ When I was little, I hid my accidents to avoid punishment. However, this time I wanted to be caught. I could have easily excused myself and cleaned up in private. Nobody would ever know I peed my pants, but that’s not what I wanted. I decided to let my aunt discover it for herself, which is what happened before. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on Debbie seeing it. She saw the wet spot and said, “Tommy, you peed your pants.” I shook my head and defiantly cried, “No I didn’t. I don’t pee my pants.” “Yes, you did. It’s right there. I need to tell Mommy.” “I’ll take care of it.” “Mommy said to tell her when Scott pees his pants, so it’s the same for you.” She then shouted, “MOMMY! Tommy peed in his pants.” Aunt Amanda looked surprised and said, “He did? Tommy, what happened?” Debbie said, “We were playing, and Tommy went pee-pee.” Aunt Amanda looked at the wet spot and said, “It looks like you had an accident. I’m afraid that you need to go back to Pull-ups. Let’s get you changed.” Part 7 My aunt put a change pad on the living room floor; it was right in front of everybody. That’s what she did at night, so I don’t know why I expected any privacy. I complained, “Do we need to do this here? Can’t I go to the bathroom and clean up by myself?” My aunt looked at me like I was crazy. In her eyes, only a little kid would wet their pants, so I was just a little kid. She shook her head and said, “I have to make sure you are cleaned properly. I don’t want you to get a rash. Now, stop stalling and lie down.” I guess this was kind of what I wanted, but it scared me anyway. I was also putting on a bit of an act. I was afraid that she would suspect something if I didn’t complain. I grumbled in a whiney voice, “I don’t want to.” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes, put a pacifier in front of my mouth, and said, “Tough, now lie down.” To be honest, I was beginning to like the pacifier. It calmed me down and helped me relax. She put the pacifier in my mouth, and I calmly laid back down on the floor. She praised me, “Good boy.” She finished wiping, helped me into the clean Pull-up, and then warned, “This is a Pull-up, not a diaper. You still need to use the potty like a big boy. If you can use the potty, you can have your big boy pants back. If not, you’re going to have to go back to diapers.” I muffled through the pacifier, “How long?” “Just like last time. Three days. You can get your big boy pants back on Saturday.” She condescendingly patted my Pull-up and said, “Go to the nursery and get dressed, then you can play with Scott and Debbie.” Going back to Pull-ups was the first part of my plan. I knew I would need more accidents to be put in diapers, but I didn’t know how many. Scott told me that he sometimes stays in Pull-ups after an accident but usually goes back to diapers if he has more than one. I figured that one accident wouldn’t be enough, and I would need to have at least two accidents in my Pull-ups. I didn’t want to make my aunt suspicious, so I didn’t have any more accidents that day. That night my aunt praised me for keeping my Pull-ups dry, and then got me ready for bed. I made sure to wet my diaper again that night. In my mind, I had to start wetting the bed to make my plan believable. It was getting easier to wet my diaper. I no longer had to visualize standing in front of a toilet. I just started to pee when I wanted to go. My aunt noted the wet diaper in the morning but didn’t seem all that concerned about my sudden bedwetting. She acted like everything was normal. I thought my plan was going well. My aunt was acting like these were real accidents, and that I might need to go back to diapers. I figured it would be fun to act like a baby for a few weeks, and I didn’t have to worry about other kids finding out. Nobody at my school would ever know. However, teenagers don’t always think about all of the factors before acting. I forgot about my mom. My mom wasn’t around, and I didn’t think she would know anything about it. It didn’t dawn on me that my aunt told my mom all about it. That was stupid! My aunt told her that I pooped my pants, so why didn’t I think my aunt would tell her that I wet my pants and started wetting the bed. Mom called me on Wednesday morning, which was the day after I peed my pants. I also wet the bed three times. A week earlier, I complained about having to sleep in a crib after pooping my pants, and now I was wetting the bed again, and I already wet my pants once. I hadn’t wet my pants since I was in 2nd grade. She asked, “Tommy, what’s going on? Do you know why you’re wetting yourself?” My first instinct was to deny it. “I’m not peeing myself.” My mom tersely replied, “Tommy, stop it! Aunt Amanda told me that you wet your diaper twice. She also told me that you peed your pants yesterday. Why is that happening?” I tried to blame my aunt. “It’s not my fault. Aunt Amanda is making me sleep in a crib, and I can’t get out when I need to pee.” Mom shook her head, “I don’t buy that one bit. You were dry for the first five nights. You only had to stay dry one more night to get out of diapers.” I dejectedly answered, “I know.” Mom continued, “What about the accident yesterday?” I stammered, trying to think of an explanation. I went back to what I used to say when I was little. I meekly answered, “I didn’t know I had to go.” Mom sighed, trying to contain her anger. “That means you have to wear Pull-ups again, right?” I was too embarrassed to answer, but I nodded to avoid more wrath. “What about this morning? Did you wet again last night?” My lack of an answer gave it away. Mom replied, “Tommy, you’re much too old to be wetting your pants like a baby. You know that if this continues, Aunt Amanda is going to make you wear diapers during the day.” I shifted my eyes away from the camera and mumbled, “I know.” “Well, is that what you want?” This was the first time Mom implied that I was doing this on purpose. I emphatically denied the charge. “No! She is going to treat me like a baby. I don’t want that. Why would you even let her do that?” I hoped turning the tables might put my mom on the defensive. My mom sighed and said, “Tommy, I can only think of two reasons that a boy your age would suddenly pee himself. You’re either doing it on purpose, or something is wrong.” “It’s not on purpose.” I protested. My mom replied, “Ok, I guess Aunt Amanda will have to take you to the doctor.” The thought of telling a doctor that I was wetting my pants was humiliating. I cried out, almost begging, “Don’t do that. Please. I’ll stop. I’ll stop, I promise.” Mom clearly didn’t believe me. She asked, “Are you telling me that you can stop? That means you’re doing this on purpose.” I was getting frustrated. She was turning everything against me. I cried out, “I’m not doing this on purpose!” “Then you can’t promise to stop.” She paused, while I tried to think of a way out. Mom continued, “It doesn’t matter anyway. You still need to go back to diapers.” “What? Why?” “Because you'll pee your pants if you don’t wear a diaper. That’s why babies wear diapers.” I whimpered, “But, she is going to treat me like a baby.” Mom replied, “Why shouldn’t she? You should be treated like a baby if you aren’t potty trained.” I protested, “I am potty trained! Stop saying that.” Mom snapped back, “You aren’t if you purposely pee your pants.” “I’m not doing it on purpose!” By this point, I was on the verge of massive tears. The kind of meltdown I only had when I was very young. “But that means you need diapers to avoid accidents, and you’re not ready to diaper yourself.” She paused in the middle to give me time to process what she was saying. I was confused, “Diapering yourself?” “That means you change your own diapers, and I don’t think you’re ready to do that.” I indignantly asked, “Why not?” “Tommy, it takes a lot of maturity to take care of your own diapers, and you’re not ready. You have to make sure you clean everything and then get rid of the diaper without making a mess. I don’t trust you to do any part of that. You don’t even pick up after yourself when you take a shower, and I still have to nag you to take a shower.” Mom continued, “If you really are having accidents, you’ll have to learn how to handle it like an adult. I can’t ask Aunt Amanda to teach you something like that, so you’ll have to wait until we get home. Until then, Aunt Amanda is going to take care of it her way.” I was stunned, and said, “But, that’s the whole summer.” Mom scoffed, “It’s probably going to be a lot longer than that. I need to see a lot more maturity from you before I’m willing to teach you. You will need to be potty trained all over again.” Once again, I protested, “I am potty trained.” “Big boys don’t pee their pants. You keep peeing and pooping in your pants, so obviously you aren’t potty trained. I didn’t do it right the first time, so maybe it is time to let Aunt Amanda have a try.” Mom saw the look on my face and asked, “Tommy, did Aunt Amanda put you in a Pull-up, or is she making you wear a diaper?” I meekly replied, “a Pull-up.” “That means she thinks you are ready to use the potty on your own. If you show her that you can be a big boy and use the potty, she won’t treat you like a baby. You can do that, can’t you?” My mom was talking to me like I was a baby. Her voice was high, and she used short phrases. She used euphemisms like potty and pee-pee, just like I was a small child. I regained my composure and said, “Mom, can you stop talking like that? It makes me feel like a baby.” Mom replied, “That’s the point, Tommy. If you don’t want to be treated like a three-year-old, stop acting like a three-year-old.” “I’m not a baby!” Mom rolled her eyes and said, “Prove it. If you want to become a teenager, act like one. Stop peeing your pants, don’t wet the bed, and stop whining when you don’t get your way. If you act like a little kid, you’re going to be treated like a little kid.” Part 8 Even though she didn’t say it, my mom thought I was wetting myself on purpose. Did she really mean it when she said that I wasn’t potty-trained? I was especially mad when she said that I was acting like a little kid, and she wanted my aunt to treat me like I was a baby. I couldn’t believe it when she said that I might stay in diapers a lot longer than just the summer. I wondered why I did this in the first place. I wished I’d never pooped my pants. I didn’t do that on purpose; that was a real accident. Everything would be normal if that didn’t happen. I wouldn’t have to wear Pull-ups and I wouldn’t have to sleep in a diaper. I asked myself, ‘Why did I want to pee in my diaper?’ That wasn’t an accident, nor was it when I peed my pants. I did that because I wanted to stay in diapers, which made no sense. What kid my age wants to wear diapers? Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like a typical teenager. I was a fourteen-year-old boy who was starting high school in a few months, but that’s not what I saw in the mirror. Physically, I didn’t look like a teenager. I wasn’t just small, I was undeveloped. The boys at my school bragged about their giant dicks, while mine was just a tiny bald little thing. Mine looked like it belonged to a little kid. Some of the boys in my class were shaving, but I didn’t even have peach fuzz. The friends I had in elementary school grew up, and I didn’t. I had a good friend named Jaxon; he was the only kid who knew that I wet my bed, and he kept my secret. I’m older than him, but he was always one of the bigger kids. He was always bigger, but by eighth grade, he towered over me. He was big, even for an adult. He wore size 13 shoes, and I wore size 6. We didn’t share many things in common anymore, so we stopped hanging out together. His friends were jerks anyway, so I tried to avoid them. I wanted to be cool, but I didn’t know how. I pretended to like girls, but I wasn’t really interested, at least in that way. The girls didn’t seem all that interested in me either, other than the ones who treated me like a little brother. Some kids thought I was gay, but I didn’t think about boys that way either. I just spent my time pretending that I was a famous athlete, or whatever cool thing I could think of. That’s fine when you’re nine years old, but not at fourteen. At first, I wanted to punish my mom for what she said. I thought about going into full baby mode. If they were going to treat me like a baby, I would become a huge brat. I would cry, throw tantrums, and do all the things that babies do when they get upset. I soon realized that wasn’t going to work, and it was better if I just proved them wrong. I had to prove that I wasn’t just some little kid who needed diapers; I was a teenager who needed independence and respect. However, that’s not who I was. My mom constantly nagged me to do my chores and then complained that I didn’t do them properly when I finally completed them. Aunt Amanda took a different route. At the end of the week, she gave me money for each chore I completed. She had to inspect it to make sure it was done correctly, but I got credit for the chore. I didn’t have to do them unless I wanted the money. It was the same for Debbie, but hers were simpler and she didn’t get as much money. I could have earned $20 for cleaning the garage, while Debbie got $1 for setting the table. At the end of the week, Debbie made three times more money than I did. I tried to be a big kid that day. I knocked a chore off the list; I vacuumed the living room. It took me four times to pass the inspection, but I finally met my aunt’s expectations. At the same time, I watched Scott happily play on the floor. He wasn’t allowed to do any chores and didn’t get an allowance. That was reserved for big kids. My aunt doted over him while changing his wet diaper, which made me jealous. I had a strange dream that night. It was about the last time I wore diapers for an extended period. I was five years old, and we went to Asia for vacation. I remember wearing diapers on the plane. I still wore diapers at night, but I didn’t wear them in the daytime anymore, and that felt weird to me. I remember that these were diapers and not Pull-ups. I had some accidents, so I had to wear diapers for the rest of the trip, which was three weeks. That’s a long time for a five-year-old. I also remember getting lost at the airport and getting put in a stroller. This wasn’t a bad memory. It was pleasant, and I didn’t care that I had to wear diapers or sit in a stroller. I woke up in a wet diaper. Having a real accident put me in a strange place. It’s hard to explain, but I used to feel special after I wet my bed. It was like a part of me was still a baby, and I didn’t want it to go away. I felt the same that morning, but I didn’t get yelled at, and I wasn’t covered in pee. After lunch, I went outside to play while my cousins took their naps. I purposely didn’t use the bathroom, and I drank two glasses of lemonade before heading outside. I was playing in a puddle when I felt the first twinge in my bladder. I told myself to let go and started to pee. I felt the warmth spread in the padding. It felt different than the cloth diapers my aunt used at night. The Pull-up was about to leak, but I kept peeing. I don’t know if my aunt was watching me, or just sensed that I had an accident. She called to me, “Tommy, come over here. I need to check your Pull-up.” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. I was surprised, and given my condition, I was reluctant to let her see. I don’t know why I was reluctant; she was going to find out eventually. The Pull-up was close to leaking and I needed to change. How did I ever think I would get that past my aunt? I cried, “What? Why?” “You haven’t used the potty since lunch, and I need to see if you’re still dry.” I didn’t want to admit the truth. I answered, “I’m dry, and I did go. I just forgot to tell you.” “That doesn’t matter, I need to check your Pull-Up right now!” This was her no-nonsense voice, and I could tell she was out of patience. I huffed, “Ok,” and trundled over to her. I thought she would be angry when she felt my soggy Pull-up, but she wasn’t. “Oh dear, you’re wet. Is that why you didn’t want me to check?” I shot my eyes down and mumbled, “Yes.” My aunt acted like it was just an accident. “I guess you didn’t know, but you’re supposed to tell me when you have an accident sweetie. If you hide an accident again, you’ll go right back to diapers. Is that understood?” I felt guilty and looked like I was going to cry. Aunt Amanda gently hugged me and said, “It’s ok honey. Sometimes kids have accidents when they are learning to use the potty. Let’s get you cleaned up.” It was the same process that she always did, making sure to thoroughly clean and dry everything before handing me another Pull-up. She warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” Part 9? My aunt warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” I asked, “How long?” She looked perplexed, and asked,” How long what?” “How long will I have to stay in diapers?” Aunt Amanda tilted her head with a strange look. She asked, “Honey, is that what you want?” I don’t know what would have happened if I told her the truth. I think she was ready to put me in a diaper right there, but I didn’t want her to think I was a freak. I furiously shook my head, which was more of an act, and said, “No, no, no! I just want to know what happens if I have another accident.” Aunt Amanda was dubious but indulged me. She talked to me like I was a child. “Right now, I don’t know if you are ready to use the potty by yourself. That’s why you are wearing Pull-ups. Big kids use the potty by themselves. If you keep having accidents, I know you’re not ready. That means you need diapers, and you can’t be a big kid if you need diapers. Does that make sense?” It didn’t make any sense, but I nodded anyway. I asked, “But for how long?” “You’ll need to be potty-trained before you can wear big boy pants. That can’t happen until you are ready.” “How will you know if I’m ready?” Aunt Amanda calmly answered, “It depends. I knew that Debbie was ready when she stayed dry for a long time and used the potty when I asked her. Now she doesn’t need help using the potty and does it all by herself. Older kids sometimes take longer. You are older than Debbie, so a day won’t feel as long to you. You might need a longer break before you are ready. It’s also very important for you to cooperate with me. I can’t teach you to use the potty if you don’t listen to me.” I remembered what my mom told me. “My mom said that it might take the whole summer. She said if I can’t help it, I need to learn how to change my own diapers, and she won’t do that until I’m ready.” Aunt Amanda nodded, “That’s true. Some adults, and even big kids, have problems getting to the potty, and they have to manage it by themselves. It is called, ‘incontinence’, but that doesn’t mean they are like little kids.” “It doesn’t?” I sounded very childlike, and innocent. “No honey; They can take care of themselves. It’s hard, and they need to be very responsible. I think that’s what your mommy meant when she told you that you weren’t ready for that.” She continued, “And to be honest, I think your mommy is right. You aren’t responsible enough. I know that you sometimes use the potty by yourself, so I know you can do it. However, big kids don’t just do that some of the time, they handle the potty by themselves all of the time. That’s what you still need to show me.” I didn’t get the answer I wanted, but I did get some perspective on my aunt’s thought process. It felt like she was seriously considering putting me in a diaper right there, and there was a part of me that wished she had. However, it was a big step. I still had to wear a diaper for six more nights, which would be almost three weeks in diapers. If she makes me wear one during the day, I might be in diapers all summer. I made it through the rest of the day without an accident, but the ever-perceptive Debbie noticed the frowny face on my chart. “Why does Tommy have a frowny face?” Aunt Amanda sighed, “Tommy went pee-pee in his pants today.” “Is he going to be a baby again?” My aunt gave Debbie a disapproving look. That was close to teasing, and teasing is not allowed. “Debbie! We don’t do that in this house.” Debbie deflected her eyes and mouthed, “Sorry.” I guess she was talking to me, but it didn’t seem directed at anybody in particular. My aunt replied, “No, Tommy still wants to be a big boy.” It was getting easier for me to pee in the diaper at night. I barely had to think about it before I started to pee. I was oddly proud of myself, but I couldn’t explain why. During the day, I was constantly flooded with doubt and anxiety. I felt out of place in the world. At night, I felt like a three-year-old with no responsibilities. I just needed one more accident, and I could get that feeling during the day as well. It dawned on me that I had to act now. In a few days, my aunt might give Scott another chance with Pull-ups. What if I’m wearing a diaper, and Scott gets to wear Pull-ups? I promised myself to pee in my Pull-up in the morning. Aunt Amanda barely acknowledged the soggy diaper that greeted her in the morning. She just said, “Let’s get you two some breakfast, and then I will get you ready for the day.” She cleaned me up carefully, handed me the Pull-Up, and said, “Try to use the potty today. I don’t want you to have any more accidents.” I replied, “Ok, I’ll try,” knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen. My aunt hugged me, “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help but notice the twinge of doubt in her voice. At this point, I wasn’t turning back. I was going to wet my Pull-up, and it was just a question of when. There was a part of me that wanted to get it over with, but it was like jumping off the diving board; I couldn’t take it back after it happened. I tried to pee in the morning, but I couldn’t. Jessica came over shortly after 10 o’clock, and the four of us went outside to play. I didn’t want to do it in front of Jessica, so I tried to put it out of my mind. Up until then, I thought I kept this a secret. As far as I knew, she didn’t know I was wearing a Pull-up. I suddenly felt the urge and began to pee, without thinking. I realized what I was doing and tried to stop, but I couldn’t stop peeing. I froze and hoped nobody saw what happened. Jessica noticed and asked, “Tommy, what did you do?” I answered, “Nothing. I was just thinking.” Jessica smirked, “I don’t think that’s it. I know that look. I think somebody peed his pants. Come over here, I need to check your Pull-Up.” “Um, I’m not wearing a Pull-Up.” My stammer and red face might have given it away. “Oh, please! Do you honestly think I haven’t noticed the Pull-ups? I can see the tabs above your waistband. Now come over here and let me check if you’ve had an accident.” “No.” Jessica was talking to me just like I was a petulant child and ordered, “No? Come here, I need to check your Pull-up.” She might have only been thirteen, but she knew exactly how to handle an ornery child. I screamed, “No!” And started to run. I didn’t get very far; Jessica caught me from behind and said, “Got you, you little stinker.” She put her hand on my shorts and said, “Tommy, you’re wet. Let’s tell your aunt.” I pulled away and cried, “No, I don’t want to.” She tugged back and said, “Tommy, you’re only making this bad for yourself. Be a good boy, or I’ll put you in time-out.” I shouted back, “You’re not my babysitter! You can’t put me in time-out.” Jessica snidely asked, “Should we ask your aunt about that?” Aunt Amanda walked outside; “What’s all of the commotion? What’s going on?” Debbie was eager to tell her mom what happened, but Jessica spoke first. “Mrs. Whitmore, I’m afraid Tommy had a little accident and needs another Pull-up. I can help him if you are busy.” It sounds stupid, but until then, it never dawned on me that Jessica could end up changing my diaper. She took care of Scott quite a bit, so it would make sense that she would do the same with me. Much to my relief, Aunt Amanda waved her off. “That’s very nice of you, but I can take it from here. Please keep an eye on Scotty and Debbie, while I’ll take care of Tommy.” Part 10 The best way to describe my aunt’s reaction was disappointment. I don’t know if she thought I did it on purpose, but I don’t think it surprised her. It didn’t matter; she had no choice but to go through with her promise. She said, “Tommy, I don’t know what’s going on, but you aren’t using the potty like you should. We have to take a break from potty training. That means you have to wear diapers until you are ready to try again.” I willingly climbed on the changing table and let her take care of the soggy Pull-up. She calmly asked, “Sweetie, do you want your pacifier?” I nodded, and she put it in my mouth. “There you go. Isn’t that nice?” It’s hard to explain the calming effect sucking on a pacifier has on me. I felt like I melted into the table. I thought my aunt would mock me for acting like a baby, but she didn’t. In her mind, I literally was a baby. She placed the diaper underneath my bottom, and said, “Now sweetie, I don’t want you to worry about making it to the potty. If you need to do a poo-poo or a pee-pee, just go ahead and an adult will take care of your diaper. I don’t want you to try to be a big kid and use the potty. We won’t worry about the potty until you are ready.” I guess this was her way of telling me the bathroom was off-limits. Scott wasn’t allowed to use the potty, so I knew I wouldn’t be either. I felt guilty and mumbled, “I’m sorry.” In her calm voice, she said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re not ready to be a big kid, so you need a break.” My aunt used cloth diapers at night, which seemed to fit me easily. During the day, she used the largest-sized Pampers available, but they were meant for a kid half my size. I wasn’t sure if they would fit. After she finished, I commented, “I didn’t think they would fit me.” Aunt Amanda smiled, “They fit, but just barely. I think I’ll have to get some bigger diapers, just in case.” She then dressed me like I was a two-year-old. She didn’t let me do anything for myself. My shirt was pastel yellow with a big red balloon on the front. The shorts were bright red and had an elastic waistband. It was the kind of thing I wore when I was three. After she finished, she said, “Big kids don’t wear diapers, so you can’t have big kid privileges until you are potty trained. Is that understood?” I nodded. She continued. “Little kids are not allowed to open doors, and not allowed to run off. They have to be with an adult at all times. You also have to ask an adult first, and if the adult says no, that means no. If you pout, or whine, you will go to time out.” I asked, “What about Jessica, is she an adult?” Aunt Amanda replied, “She is to you. She is in charge, and you have to do what she says.” “Is Debbie an adult?” “No, she is a big sister. You can ask her for help, but she is not in charge.” Aunt Amanda held my hand as we walked outside. She got Jessica’s attention and said, “Jessica, honey, can you keep an eye on Tommy?” Jessica gave her a thumbs up, and then my aunt put her hands on my shoulders and said, in a loud voice, “Be a good boy for Jessica.” I looked ridiculous in my toddler-style outfit and well-padded rear. I think it was obvious that I was wearing a diaper. I asked Jessica in a trembling voice, “Are you going to tease me?” Jessica condescendingly asked, “Why would I do that?” “Well, you know, what I’m wearing.” My voice was timid and shy. “What are you wearing?” She knew everything, and just wanted me to say it out loud. “You know.” I paused a bit, and then continued, “Don’t make me say it.” “No, I don’t, Tommy. What are you wearing?” Exasperated, I admitted, “I’m wearing a diaper. My Aunt is making me wear diapers.” She mockingly looked surprised, “You are, and why are you wearing diapers, Tommy? What did you do?” I was annoyed and mumbled as quickly as possible, “I wet my pants.” “You did, didn’t you. I guess that means you aren’t potty trained.” I wanted to run off but knew that wasn’t possible. I nodded, and Jessica continued, “I guess that makes you a little kid, doesn’t it?” I didn’t nod back, but she didn’t care. “I don’t tease little kids; that’s just mean. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tease you. Just remember that I’m in charge, and you can’t argue with me. If you do what I tell you, I’ll be nice.” I guess that’s the best I could hope for. Debbie kept asking, “What happened? Why is Tommy wearing diapers?” I wanted to scream at Debbie, but I knew I would get in trouble, so I gave Jessica a pleading look. Fortunately, Jessica quickly admonished Debbie. “Debbie! Don’t be so nosy. That’s none of your business.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t pooped yet, and breakfast was making it’s way to my bowels. I had let my mind go free while Scott and I were playing in the sandbox and forgot about the new rules. I got up to head for the bathroom. Jessica quickly asked, “Tommy, where do you think you’re going? You can’t run off by yourself.” I replied in a firm voice, “I need to go to the bathroom.” Jessica gave me a serious look, “Tommy, you don’t have to worry about that. That’s why you’re wearing a diaper.” I didn’t want to poop in my diaper and didn’t think Jessica would want to deal with that either. I snapped, “It’s not that. I need to take a shit.” I didn’t think swearing was a big deal, especially in front of kids my age. I didn’t usually swear around little kids, but I didn’t think I said anything wrong. Jessica gave me a dirty look and said, “Tommy Michael, you know better than that. Little boys don’t speak that way.” She pointed to the picnic table and in a firm voice said, “Go to the table. Now!” I have no idea how she knew my middle name, but hearing it is never good. I was more shocked than anything else, and asked, “What? Why?” “You heard me. Go!” She marched me to the table, put a pacifier in my mouth, and said, “Sit! You are in time-out.” I tried to plead my case. I spit the pacifier out, and tried to say, “But I need to go to the bathroom.” However, I didn’t get past the first word before she put the pacifier back in my mouth. “Don’t talk until I take that out! Is that understood?” I was too afraid to respond. She continued, “I know what’s going on, and as long as you are good, and don’t argue with me, I’ll be nice. But, if you don’t obey me, and make this difficult, I’ll make sure everybody knows what a big baby you really are. Do you want that?” I vigorously shook my head and tried to talk, but Jessica wouldn’t let me speak. “No talking! Sit here and think about your words. You are in time-out because you used a naughty word.” Debbie didn’t hear me cuss, and being the curious child she was, asked me, “Tommy, why are you in time-out?” Jessica quickly intercepted, “Debbie, Tommy is in time-out. He can’t talk to you right now.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s ok. Tommy can play after he finishes his time-out.” I hadn’t been put in time-out since I was six years old, and now I was put there by a girl younger than me. It’s a lot to unpack. However, I had to admire Jessica’s poise. It gave me a strange sense of security that is hard to explain. Her maturity belied her age. A short time later she came back and asked, “Are you ready to apologize for saying those naughty words?” She took the pacifier out of my mouth after I nodded back. I started, “I’m sorry, but.” The pacifier immediately went back to my mouth. “No buts. Are you going to say naughty words anymore?” I shook my head, and she nodded back. “Good, you can go back to playing after you apologize for real.” I replied, “I’m sorry.” “For what? What are you sorry about?” “I’m sorry I cussed.” Jessica smiled, “You’re forgiven. I think you’ve learned your lesson.” I raised my hand and waved, “Can I say something?” “What is it?” “I still need to poo.” Jessica shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you are taking a break from the potty. That means you have to use your diaper.” She pointed to a corner of the yard and said, “If you want, you can do it there.” I answered, “I can’t do that out here.” Jessica put the pacifier back in my mouth and smirked, “Obviously, that’s not always true, is it?” A few minutes later, Jessica took us into the kitchen for lunch and told my aunt, “He says he needs to poo, but he hasn’t done it yet.” It was humiliating to hear people talk about my bowel movements that way. Aunt Amanda nodded, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll give him some time, but I might have to help him if he hasn’t pooped by dinner.” She turned to me and said, ‘Honey, it’s not good to hold it in.” I sat in my highchair at lunch, right next to Scott. We both had bibs around our necks, and our sandwiches were cut into small pieces. We also had sippy cups, while Debbie got to use a real cup. We took our naps after lunch. I still had to poo, and I was mad, so I decided to go in my diaper. I figured it would be a fitting punishment to make my aunt change my stinky diaper. There weren't any clocks in the nursery, so I had no idea how long I would have to wait until my aunt woke us up. I just had to wait, and deal with the smell. She reacted immediately after opening the nursery door. “I think somebody has a stinky diaper!” She checked Scott first. “Was it you?” She felt the front and then checked the back. “No, not you. You aren’t even wet. You were a big boy, and that makes Mommy very proud.” It was my turn. She felt the front and said, “You went pee-pee. Let’s see about the poo-poo.” She opened it up and in an almost proud voice said, “Yep, you did. And you did a big one. I’m happy that you don’t need any help going poo-poo.” I was confused, and asked, “Aren’t you mad?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Why would I be mad? It’s not healthy to hold your poop. I told you to use your diaper, and you did. That means you are a good boy.” Part 11 My aunt didn’t care what anybody thought. She acted like this was completely normal. She put two strollers in the car when we went to Reno the next day. I realized that the other one was for me and cried, “I can’t ride in that!” Aunt Amanda asked, “Why not?” “I’m too old. People will think it’s weird.” Aunt Amanda scoffed, “You’re wearing a diaper and that makes you a little kid. Little kids need to use a stroller.” “Why? I don’t need a stroller. I’m not going to get tired.” My aunt shook her head, “I’m sorry honey. It’s not safe to let you wander off. The stroller keeps you and Scotty close, and you won’t get lost.” I whined, “I won’t get lost. I promise, I won’t wander away. I promise.” Aunt Amanda replied in a firm voice. “Tommy, go suck on your pacifier and stop whining.” I was smart enough to know I wasn’t going to win. I hadn’t won a single battle with my aunt. I didn’t want anybody to see me, especially somebody from my school. She took the strollers out of the car after we parked, and I begged, “Please, Aunt Amanda. You can’t make me do this. It’s humiliating.” My aunt didn’t want a debate. She demanded, “Tommy, get in the stroller, now!” I knew she wasn’t going to back down, however, I still tried to resist. I wasn’t a baby. I didn’t need diapers, and I definitely didn’t need to ride in a stroller. I had to take a stand, and not let her humiliate me in public. I tried to muscle up my strongest voice, but I was starting to cry. Rather than sounding strong, I pleaded between sobs, “Pleese Au-unt Amanda! Pleese! I’m sorry, I’ll never do this again. I’ll do anything, just don’t make me go out like this.” Aunt Amanda was unimpressed with my theatrics. She put the pacifier back in my mouth and said, “Stop with the dramatics. You’re only making it worse for yourself by making a scene. You have two choices: sit in the stroller like a good boy, or we can go home, and you’ll go straight to the playpen.” I didn’t know what she meant by the playpen, but I saw Scott shaking his head and prompting me to stop. It sounded bad, so I reluctantly sat down in the stroller. I think these were bigger than most strollers, but they looked like any other stroller. They were connected side by side, which allowed Scott and I to talk while we were pushed around town. It felt like everybody was watching us, but most people didn’t seem to pay attention. Scott looked too old to be in a stroller, but not that far off. Somebody might think he was just a big four-year-old, and that’s still young enough to use a stroller. I clearly was too old and too big to use a stroller. Nobody would ever think I was young enough to need a stroller. I saw people stare, which made sense. We both looked way too old for a stroller, and I was sucking on a pacifier. It caused a scene, but my aunt didn’t care. One young kid saw us and asked, “Mommy, why are those big kids in strollers?” The mom knew we heard and was embarrassed. She replied, “I don’t know honey, but it’s not polite to stare.” My aunt and uncle wanted a date night that weekend and needed a babysitter. Jessica was the obvious choice, but my aunt wanted to let her parents know about me. Jessica’s mom wasn’t comfortable with the two of us being together without supervision. When Jessica realized what her mom was thinking, she scoffed at the idea. “Mom! Please. Yuck! He’s wearing a diaper. Nothing like that will happen. You don’t have a problem when I change Scott.” “No, but Scott is younger than you.” Jessica remarked, “Mom, Tommy is the same as Scott. He’s just a little boy who still needs diapers. I don’t think of him that way at all.” Jessica’s mom asked my aunt, “Is she telling the truth? Does Tommy wear diapers? Aunt Amanda answered, “He does. Tommy had a setback with his potty training, so I put him back in diapers. Jessica is right, there really is no difference between Tommy and Scott. They are both little boys, and Jessica handles them like a pro. She won’t let him get away with much, and that boy was a nightmare for me until I put him back in diapers.” Jessica pleaded, “Mom, please let me do this. Mrs. Whitmore is going to pay me $20 an hour.” Jessica’s mom turned back to my aunt, “$20 an hour?” My aunt said, “Well, it’s three kids. Jessica may be young, but she is a great babysitter, and the kids adore her.” Jessica noted, “Tommy is just a little kid, or at least he acts like one.” Jessica’s mom nodded and then asked my aunt, “Are you saying Tommy hasn’t given you any problems since you put him back in diapers?” Aunt Amanda nodded, “It’s true. Last week, he was an absolute nightmare. He had an awful attitude and wouldn’t do anything around the house. He sulked and pouted whenever I asked him to do anything. I know he’s not a bad kid and he’s had a rough go at it these last few years. Since Thursday, he’s been a different kid. Sure, there’s been a few tantrums, but they’re short-lived and easily rectified. He calms right down when I give him a pacifier. He is more compliant and hasn’t whined nearly as much. I can’t trust him to do any chores, but that was never worth the hassle. I know it’s odd, but he seems happier.” Jessica’s mom looked intrigued, “You don’t say. I might have to try that with Jason. That boy has been a real pill since school let out.” She looked at Jessica and said, “Don’t say anything to your brother.” Jessica was strict, but nice. I guess that makes her a good babysitter. We had to follow all of the rules. She made me eat all of my vegetables, but then gave us some cake for dessert. My aunt doesn’t usually give us any dessert, so that was a treat. The four of us played a board game after dinner, but Jessica made sure we were in bed by eight o’clock. Scott and I both had baths before she got there. However, she had to change my diaper before bedtime. She didn’t make a big deal about it and acted like it was normal. Fortunately, I didn’t give Jessica any problems. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to put me in time-out, and my aunt warned me before she left. “If you give Jessica any issues, I’m putting you in the playpen tomorrow.” I asked Scott, “What does she mean by the playpen?” Scott answered, “You don’t want that. If I’m naughty, Mommy makes me sit in a playpen all day, and I’m not allowed to have any toys. It’s like time-out, except it’s the whole day.” That warning kept me in check. After a few days, I realized my life is easier if I don’t complain and just go along with my aunt. Within a week, I understood the routine and knew what was expected of me, which was basically nothing. I had no responsibilities and no real decisions to make. I was praised for following her rules and doing what she wanted. I was also praised when I used my diaper and always got a hug after my diaper was changed. I didn’t get very much positive attention in those days, so I responded well to praise. On the other hand, attempts at independence were quickly quashed, usually with a mild reprimand. Scott got to use the potty after the weekend; I guess that meant he was ready to be potty-trained. I knew my turn was coming, which I thought would happen in just a few days. By Wednesday, Scott was in Pull-ups, which made me the only baby in the house. I still had diapers, had the same rules, and had to wait patiently for my turn. Scott got to wear underwear the following Monday and was dry in the morning. He got to eat breakfast from the table, and I still had to sit in my highchair. I knew Scott would be completely out of diapers soon, and I still wasn’t allowed to use the potty. I asked, “When can I use the potty again? It’s been more than a week.” I didn’t want to get in trouble, but I didn’t want this to last forever. My aunt nonchalantly answered, “Don’t worry. We will try again when you are ready.” I protested, “But Scott only had to wait a week. Why do I have to wait so long?” I tried not to whine, but I’m sure I was. To her credit, Aunt Amanda didn’t get mad. I had an honest concern, and my protest made sense. She calmly replied, “That’s because Scott is younger than you. A week to you isn’t very long, but at Scotty’s age, it feels much longer. When you are older, you need longer breaks. That means when we start again, we get a fresh start. If you keep being good, I think you will be ready soon.” Four days later, which was after fourteen days in diapers, I got to poop in the potty. I was praised and even allowed to wipe after. However, my aunt had to finish. I wasn’t clean enough, so she had to finish before putting me in a new diaper. She warned, “You have to do a better job wiping. If you can’t wipe properly, you will have to stay in diapers.” After she changed my diaper, she said, “It’s time to see if you are ready for Pull-ups. Tell me when you need to use the potty, and I’ll take you.” Unfortunately, I was used to peeing in my diaper. After a couple of wet diapers, my aunt said, “I guess you’re not ready. Let’s wait. We will try again in a few weeks.” Epilogue That happened three years ago. I’m now going into my senior year in high school and thinking about college. I don’t know what college I want to go to, but I have the grades to go to UC Berkeley or any other top school. I want to study computer science, and my grades are good enough. My grades weren’t very good in middle school. I got C’s and D’s, and I was hanging out with a bad crowd. I don’t think I was a bad kid, but I was immature and trying to impress kids I thought were cool. I guess being put in diapers changed my attitude. I stopped trying to pretend that I was something I wasn’t. I ended up spending the entire summer in diapers. I got to wear Pull-ups a few times, but always went back to diapers. By the end of July, Scott was out of diapers at night, which left me alone in the nursery. My mom’s tour was extended, and I had to stay with my aunt through Christmas. I had more accidents, so I was diapered most of that time. It was a virtual high school, and my aunt kept a tight rein on me. I ended up with straight A’s that semester. I moved back with my mom after Christmas. I didn’t start at my high school until January. By then my old friends had different friends and they ignored me. This is where things get strange. My mom gave me the same freedoms and responsibilities that other kids had, and I didn’t handle it well. I started to argue with my mom, and my grades suffered. I did better when my mom put me back in diapers. She eventually discovered diapers were the key. As long as I have to wear a diaper, she can give me the same freedoms and responsibilities that other kids have. I’m now in diapers all the time, and I’m not allowed to change my diaper. I’m not even allowed to ask; I have to wait until somebody checks my diaper. My mom is responsible for my diapers, and if she can’t be there, somebody else is. It’s been this way since 10th grade. I’m not treated like a baby all of the time, but my mom will give me extra attention when she thinks I need it. We aren’t sure how to handle college yet, but that’s not my problem. I have no say in the matter. My cousins are doing fine. Scott still has accidents and needs diapers sometimes, but not all the time. Debbie hasn’t needed diapers for a long time. I stay with my aunt during the summer, and I still have to follow the same rules when I’m there. Jessica is still our babysitter, but she also takes care of her older brother Jason, who is now in diapers and treated like a toddler.

This is the last of the Nikki & Sarah stories in the first story arc which took place in 2015. If this is your first Nikki & Sarah story, you might want to read the previous ones first. Here's a list: Nikki & Sarah - Index thread ------------------------------------------------ New beginnings The plane came to a halt and the seat belt light went out. Everywhere around Nikki people started to get up to get their bags. She resisted the urge to do the same, telling herself that she might as well sit and wait rather than stand. She was so far from the exit that it would still be several minutes before she could get out. Nikki's thoughts were interrupted as the man in a suit and tie that had been sitting in the window seat next to hers, tried to get past her to the already packed aisle. She pushed back in her seat to let him pass and muttered a few choice expletives. "What?" he asked and turned, giving Nikki an extremely close look at his tie. "Oh nothing," she answered diplomatically. The man had been rude and annoying the entire flight and Nikki really didn't feel like an argument. She just wanted to get off the plane, get home to her bed and sleep for a day. Spending Christmas with her family had seemed like a good idea at first. The fact that they told her she couldn't bring Sarah was infuriating, but not unexpected. Nikki's parents were still refusing to accept the fact that she was a lesbian, calling it awful and sinful and wrong. Nikki had managed to hold her tongue up until the Christmas day dinner when her mother had tried to set her up with "a really nice, young man" who had proved to be not only just as bigoted than her parents, but also more than a little racist. She had exploded, yelled at more or less everybody, leaving them shocked at the table as she stormed out. She had spent the remaining two days of her stay crashing on her older brother Michael's couch before flying back home. The aisle was becoming less crowded as the people in business class had made their way off the plane. That meant that filthy peasant class was next. After another minute or two, Nikki got up and pulled her bag out of the overhead compartment. She gave her seat a quick check and realised she had forgotten her book in the seat pocket. She grabbed it and tucked it under her arm before following the slow crowd towards the exit. As soon as she was off the plane and had a little room, she set her bag down, placed the book inside and put on her jacket. Then she headed for the luggage carousel. At least I don't have to wait for ages for my bag to arrive. Nikki leaned against a pillar and rubbed her sore neck while she watched the conveyor belt filled with suitcases and bags of all shapes and sizes; none of them hers. Finally Nikki's high-visibility, fluorescent yellow bag slid down the chute and onto the belt. She grabbed it and began to make her way through the crowd towards the exit, one of the wheels on her bag squeaking softly. She felt a bit of justified schadenfreude when she passed her seat neighbour, still impatiently waiting for his luggage. Nikki walked through the doors to the arrival hall and let the buzz of hundreds of conversations wash over her. Being in a crowd like this felt good. She could be just another face passing by, not having to defend every decision she'd ever made. Not having to- "Nikki!" ...not having to care about what her par- "Nikki!" Nikki was pulled from her thoughts. She looked in the direction of the voice and saw Sarah, standing in the crowd holding a sign with "Nikki" and lots of red hearts. She changed course and walked right into a hug that felt better than anything she had felt for a week. "Thanks sweetie," Nikki mumbled into Sarah's neck. She closed her eyes and inhaled the almost cinnamon-like scent that was uniquely Sarah's. Sarah just held Nikki and slowly stroked her back. "You sounded like you needed a hug on the phone," she finally said. "I did." Nikki reluctantly let go of Sarah and the sign that had been crumpled between their bodies fell to the floor. She grabbed the bag again and let Sarah steer her towards the exit closest to the parking garage outside. "So, what's the deal with the sign?" Nikki asked, dropping the crumpled paper in a trash can. "Afraid I wouldn't recognise you? I haven't been gone that long you know." Sarah smiled sheepishly. "I just wanted to do like in those stupid, romantic movies." "Aww." Nikki slipped an arm around Sarah's waist and pulled her closer. They reached Sarah's car and loaded Nikki's bag in the trunk. When they were both in the car, Sarah leaned in close and pulled down the scarf and turtleneck to reveal her collar underneath. She fidgeted theatrically. "And I even wore my funderwear for you," she said coyly. "Your what?" "My funderwear. My diapers." "My god, you're such a dork." Nikki smiled and took Sarah's hand. She held it to her cheek and gave the palm a kiss. "It's not that I don't appreciate you trying to cheer me up. I really do. But right now, I really don't feel like playing." "Oh," Sarah said quietly. "I'm sorry." "Nononono, don't be. I really do love it that you wanted to cheer me up, it's just that I've had a shitty few days and I just don't want to think about it." "It was that bad?" Nikki nodded. "Mmm-hmm." "Well, in that case I know just the thing," Sarah said and started the engine. *** An hour later they stumbled through the door to Sarah's apartment, balancing Nikki's big, yellow bag, a plastic bag from the grocery store down the street and a large pizza box in far too few hands. Sarah kicked off her shoes after pushing the door closed with her butt. "Why don't you go take a shower to get rid of the airplane sweat and I'll get things ready here," she said. Nikki shrugged off her jacket and headed for the bathroom. A hot shower, pizza and TV. Just what the doctor ordered. Nikki stood in the shower with her forehead against the wall and let the warm water cascade down her neck and back. As her muscles slowly began to relax, she realised just how tense she had been, and also how much she smelled of old cigarette smoke. That's the last time I sleep on Michael's couch. She spat and reached for the shampoo. Fifteen minutes later Nikki emerged from the steam-filled bathroom wrapped in Sarah's far too big, terrycloth bathrobe and still trying to get the towel to stay on her head. Hearing the TV, she padded towards the living room, ignoring the damp footprints her bare feet were making on the hallway floor. On the sofa, Sarah had wrapped herself in their big, fuzzy blanket. "Feel better?" she asked. "Mm-hm." Nikki gave up on the towel and just let it hang on her head like a giant hood. "Good. Now get over here." Sarah lifted the blanket to reveal that she was only wearing her diapers and a t-shirt. "You know," Nikki said as she crossed the room and sat down next to Sarah. "That's quite a bossy thing to say for somebody wearing diapers and a collar." "Oh shush. You don't have to be all dominatrixy just because I want to snuggle. You said you didn't feel like playing and I respect that." "And the diapers? I mean, it's not that you don't look cute in them, but if we're not playing..." Sarah leaned closer and whispered in Nikki's ear. "Sometimes I wear them just because I want it for myself. Even if you're not there." "And this is one of those times?" Nikki allowed Sarah to wrap the blanket around her to enclose them both in a warm and fuzzy cocoon. "Wellllll, I was already wearing them," Sarah said. "And it seemed like a waste to take them off while they're still dry." "Always the economical one, aren't you," Nikki stroked Sarah's forearms. "Sure, we can call it that." Sarah wrapped her arms around Nikki and pulled her closer, one hand 'accidentally' slipping inside the robe. "So, are you ready for a little girlfriend therapy?" "Mm-hm." There was a small gust of cool air as Sarah slipped an arm out from under the blanket. She reached down over the arm rest on the sofa and brought back a bottle of Sprite with a straw. After a few fumbled attempts, Sarah managed to hit Nikki's mouth and she sucked hungrily. "Now," Sarah wiggled the remote control in front of Nikki. "Nightmare Before Christmas or Gremlins?" "Honestly? As long as I get to stay like this, I don't care." Nikki tilted her head back and gave Sarah a quick, lemon-flavoured kiss. The next hour and a half consisted mostly of pizza, drinks and cheesy one-liners. At some point, Nikki wriggled out of the robe and snuggled closer to Sarah, pushing her t-shirt up as far as it would go. She marvelled at how relaxing that skin-on-skin sensation was. At one point she had to push away one of Sarah's wandering hands and awkwardly reach around her to give her butt a playful little smack. When the movie was over and the pizza had been devoured, the Sarah addressed the elephant in the room. "Want to talk about it?" "Not really," Nikki replied. She snuggled closer in an attempt to distract Sarah. "OK," Sarah said, "but you know that you'll just end up being cranky and irritable for weeks." Nikki sighed. "It's just my parents. They just can't accept that I'm not straight. You know, 'it's just a phase' and 'you just haven't met the right boy yet'. They even tried to set me up with this mouthbreather of a guy during the Christmas dinner." Sarah grimaced. "But don't they-" "I just wish they'd understand how happy I am right now, with you." "Aww." Sarah kissed Nikki's forehead. "So they really don't like me then?" "Well..." Nikki grinned. "It's not really you that they don't like, but the fact you don't have a penis." "Maybe your mother's just worried she's not going to be a grandmother." Nikki snorted. "Paul has that handled. He already has two little rugrats. And knowing Michael, he might have a kid or two that even he doesn't know about yet." "Then I guess it wouldn't help to tell her that you do have somebody whose diapers need changing on a semi-regular basis." Nikki stared at Sarah and began to laugh. "You're right," she finally managed. "That probably wouldn't help. You'd just be the horrible deviant who corrupted her baby girl." "Oh reeeeeaaaally?" Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. "I guess inviting them here next year is out of the question then." "Yeah." Nikki sighed and leaned back against Sarah. They sat there, in a comfortable silence, Sarah slowly stroking Nikki's hair. Then suddenly, Nikki felt Sarah's diaper, resting against her hip, grow warm against her skin. "Did you just-" "Uh-huh." "You're getting really casual about using your diapers." Maybe a little too casual. "Yeah, that Halloween party sort of helped me get over the whole thing about wearing them in public. I mean, as long as I take some precautions, nobody's going to notice them anyway." Nikki slid a hand down to rest on the warm plastic. "And you like that?" she whispered. Sarah nodded. For a while they just lay there on the sofa, not moving, not talking, just being. Eventually Nikki broke the spell. "Do you need to get changed?" she asked. Sarah shook her head. "It can wait." Nikki sighed happily as Sarah resumed stroking her hair. "It's weird," Sarah said. "Sometimes I actually have to remind myself I'm not wearing them." "Oh?" "Yeah. Mostly when I'm at home though." "So you've had an accident or two?" "No. But it's been close a couple of times. Especially at night." Something shifted inside Nikki's mind. "And have you been... taking precautions?" "Nah, I wake up in time. I just have to remind myself when I wake up that I'm not wearing my diapers." "I think it'd be a good idea to take precautions..." Nikki turned over so she was facing Sarah. "...from now on." "That's not necessary. I alw-" Sarah protested. Nikki pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "What made you think you had any choice in the matter?" she purred. "Now I say that I think it'd be a good idea to take precautions, and you say?" Sarah smiled and swallowed. "Yes Ma'am," she whispered. *** Nikki woke up as the sun peeked in through her window. She could feel the weight of Sarah's head resting on her shoulder and her arm across her stomach. Nikki squinted against the light and saw that Sarah had her legs more or less wrapped around one of hers. The big, puffy plastic pants hiding the equally big towel diaper rested firmly against her thigh. It trapped so much heat that it was hard for Nikki to feel if Sarah had wet herself. I really hate doing this. Yesterday was so great and I really, really don't want to go to work today. Nikki started to gently stroke Sarah's hair to wake her up. It didn't take too long before she stirred and opened her eyes. "Mmm-mornin'," Sarah mumbled and rubbed her eyes. "Morning sweetie," Nikki answered and kissed her forehead. "Sleep well?" "Had the weirdest dream." Sarah let her hand wander from Nikki's stomach and up towards her breasts. "Good-weird or bad-weird?" "You were in it, and you were wearing this really shiny, rubber catsuit and..." Sarah paused as she realised what she was saying. "Not that I want that," she quickly amended. "Of course not. That's why you kept saying 'no fingerprints' in your sleep. Makes perfect sense" Nikki smiled when she saw the blush on Sarah's face. I love it when she does that. She reached down to squeeze Sarah's diapered butt-cheek. "Sounds like you have a few more kinks than just your diapers." "Maybe. But I don't hear you complaining when I have to tell you about them," Sarah said defensively. "Well, I get to dress in all sorts of naughty outfits when I'm being all mistressy," Nikki answered with mock indignation. "It's kinda part of the deal." "I liiiiiike that deal." Sarah gave Nikki's left breast a kiss. Aaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!!! "I like that deal too sweetie. Unfortunately, this mistress has work to go to." "Aww. Can't we just stay here? Just a little?" "No. I have to make up for these last days off." "That's not fair. They were sucky days off. They shouldn't count," Sarah complained. "Except yesterday. Yesterday was nice." "Yes it was sweetie, but I really have to get ready for work." Sarah sighed deeply. "OK. I'll make you some breakfast before you go. You have time for that, right?" "That depends." Nikki grinned and gave Sarah's butt another squeeze. "Does my little girl need changing first?" Sarah blew a raspberry in response. Nikki extricated her leg and got out of bed, tip-toeing naked out the door and towards the bathroom. Ten minutes and a really quick shower later, Nikki stood in front of Sarah's big wardrobe trying to find a reasonably-casual-Tuesday-between-Christmas-and-New-year outfit from the limited number of clothes she kept at Sarah's place. After rejecting two tops and a skirt she hadn't worn in a at least half a year anyway, Nikki settled on a white men's shirt and charcoal slacks. After she got dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. It's a little butch, but I can pull it off. The smell of toast and coffee drew Nikki to the kitchen, but when she entered she was a little surprised to see what Sarah was wearing: Fluffy bunny slippers, the big diapers and nothing else. "Oooh, you look niiiiiice," Sarah said when she saw Nikki. "Um, er, thanks," Nikki finally managed, a little thrown by Sarah's outfit, or rather lack thereof. She certainly seems to be getting more and more comfortable with wearing those. Sarah handed Nikki a steaming mug of coffee before fishing two pieces of toast out of the toaster. She put them next to two others on a plate on the table and absent-mindedly brushed the crumbs from her fingers. Nikki sat down by the table while Sarah got butter, jam and some cheese from the fridge. Then she sat down across the table from Nikki. "So..." Sarah started while spreading butter on a piece of toast. Do you think it'll be a busy day today?" "Uh, maybe. I have a little bit of catching up to do," Nikki said. Sarah's bare chest and the diaper Nikki knew was hidden by the table combined with the casual way she was just eating breakfast by the sunlight coming in through the blinds was just so distracting. Get it together Nikki. You sound like a moron. Sarah took a bite of the toast and chewed. She licked a bit of jam from her lips before taking a sip of coffee. "I know you've had a shitty couple of days, but are you going to be all right?" "Yeah. It's just..." Nikki gestured towards Sarah, waving her hands up and down. "Ah, don't worry about it. It's not like anybody's going to see it. I mean with the blinds like this you'd have to be on the roof of the building across the street to be able to see in and-" Sarah looked out the window and jumped, pushing her chair back. "Shit! There's somebody up there." "What?!? Where?" Nikki looked all over the top of the building, but couldn't see anybody. Then she saw the grin on Sarah's face. "Hah! I had you," she said. "I definitely had you." "Oh, you're a bad, bad girl. You're going to regret that." Nikki sat back down again and Sarah pulled her chair back to the table. "Maybe, but it was soooo worth it." Sarah took another bite of toast. "Seriously though, how busy are the next couple of days going to be for you?" "Why do you ask?" Nikki stared into her mug, trying to figure out if she had time for a second cup. "I wanted to do something special for you for New Year's Eve, and it's going to take a little time to get everything ready." "And?" "And I was thinking maybe we could stay at your place until then." "Of course sweetie. But remember I have paper-thin walls and nosy neighbours so we're going to have to pretend to be really vanilla." "Or be really quiet." "Yeah." Nikki laughed. "Or that." *** Nikki sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking at the number of messages in her email inbox and the piles of paper on her desk. 'A little bit of catching up' my arse. This is more like running a fucking marathon against Paula Radcliffe. The Christmas weekend had turned out to be a perfect storm. While Nikki had been away, a supplier had filed for bankruptcy, a power outage had wiped out almost a whole day's work and one of Nikki's team members had been forced to take some unpaid vacation time, or possibly he was fired. Rumour had it that he'd attacked the therapist during one of the anger management classes the HR department had made him attend. Nikki wasn't sure if she believed it, but had to admit that it didn't sound entirely implausible. Regardless of whether the rumours were true or not, the net result had been a giant pile of work for Nikki. She had had to call Sarah to let her know that she was going to have to pull some serious overtime to get caught up and that she probably wouldn't have the time nor the energy for any fun the next couple of days. Nikki admitted that she had taken the news better than expected. She took a bite of the stale vending machine sandwich that was pretending to be her lunch and glared at the pile of paper. She had been fighting it for three hours and she had barely made a dent. Just as she was about to dive back in, her phone made a happy little chirp. Sarah: About what time do you think you'll be home. I'm planning dinner. Nikki: Dont know. Late probly. Ill just grab somethng on the way. Sarah: Oh no. These next couple of days I'm taking care of you. Prepare to be pampered? Nikki: Thats my line sweetie 😉 Sarah: 😛 The next couple of days had been brutal. Nikki was quite certain that if it hadn't been for Sarah taking care of her, she would have been a complete mess. Especially after her mother had called her to let her know she had forgotten some things when she left. For some reason or other her mother had started criticising Nikki and her 'lifestyle' and had gone into full rant-mode so Nikki couldn't even get in a word edgewise. Sarah had seen she was getting more and more upset so she had motioned for her to hand over the phone. When Nikki had given it to her, she had promptly hung up, cutting off Nikki's mother mid-sentence. When she inevitably called back, Sarah had answered the phone and said what she wished she could have said herself. Listen you shrill shrew. If you're so blinkered by your own personal hangups that you can't see that you're hurting your daughter, then you ought to be ashamed of yourself. We are together. She makes me happy and I'm pretty sure it's mutual. Nikki is not your little girl any more. She is a grown woman and she's allowed to make her own decisions and if you can't handle that you can take a running start and jump off the big fuck-you-pier. Then she had just hung up, walked over to Nikki and hugged her. Nikki had just buried her face in Sarah's sweater, hating herself for crying. Sarah had just held her, slowly stroking her hair and her back and letting her get it all out of her system. Afterwards, she had felt completely spent, but in a good way. *** By lunchtime new year's eve, Nikki was was finally approaching something that resembled being up to date. It had taken a minor miracle to find a firm that could handle supplies temporarily until a more permanent contract could be set up but she had managed that. A date with one of Nikki's co-workers had been negotiated down to a bottle of twelve-year-old whisky for the creepy IT-guy who had spent the better part of an afternoon digging around the system to recover most of the lost data. And last, but not least, everybody on her team had pitched in to handle the extra workload caused by being one man short. Nikki looked over the remaining work before standing up. Feeling like a general addressing the troops, she cleared her throat. "OK guys, I'm sure you all have places you'd rather be than here, so I'll be brief." There was a murmur of assent. "What we've managed these last couple of days is nothing short of a miracle. Another hour or two and we should be done and we can all enjoy a long weekend off. I know I will." When Nikki returned to her desk, she saw there was a message on her phone from Sarah to call her when she had the time. She gave the remaining work another quick glance before finding some privacy to return the call. "Hi sweetie," Nikki said when Sarah answered. "What's up?" "Oh, nothing much. I'm just putting some finishing touches on a few things. I was just wondering when you think you'll be done today." "I don't know. Three hours, maybe a little more." "So, four-ish?" "I guess. Why? You have something planned?" "Oh yeah. When you get home, I want you to put on your most mistressy clothes before coming over tonight?" "Sounds like you've planned something big." "Wellllll..." Sarah hesitated ever so slightly. "I just wanted to make sure we get the year started the right way... Ma'am." Nikki could almost hear Sarah's grin as she added that final word. "And you want to be a good little girl, don't you?" Nikki couldn't help arching an eyebrow even though there was no way for Sarah to see it. "Maybe not that good. You may have to be a little strict if I'm naughty." Nikki laughed. "Don't you know just what to say." "I do my best. Will you call me when you leave your place so I can get everything ready?" "Of course sweetie." Thank you, Ma'am." Sarah made kissing noises before hanging up, leaving Nikki with a smile that really seemed to confuse her team when she came back. *** Almost four hours later, Nikki walked through her front door. The apartment was deathly silent. There wasn't even any noise from her neighbours. They must have gone to celebrate with someone else. Or started drinking really early. Nikki took off her shoes and coat and headed into the living room. She flipped through five or six CDs before finding one that caught her fancy. Seconds later David Bowie's Ashes to Ashes filled the room and Nikki sang along while she half walked, half danced to the bathroom. The hot water hammered down on Nikki's skull, almost, but not quite, drowning out the music. Nikki just stood there, feeling herself go from work mode to a far more relaxed weekend mode. Three days off Nikki. This is going to be glorious. It took Nikki quite a while before she felt ready to turn off the water and let the cold air outside the shower hit her. She quickly dried herself and went to the bedroom. Finding 'the most mistressy' clothes proved to be a bit of a challenge. It wasn't as if Nikki had an abundance to choose from, but with the right attitude, anything could work. OK, underwear: Something small, black and silky. It didn't take Nikki long to fit something that would fit the bill. The tight, black, leather pants were also pretty much a no-brainer since they were clearly Sarah's favourites. At least until I end up wearing something even shinier and smoother. Nikki paused for a moment trying to imagine Sarah's reaction to the latex pants she kept hinting to. Her head would probably explode. The top proved trickier to pick out. There was a crisp, white blouse that would contrast nicely with the black leather. Nope. Too similar to what I wear to work. Next she considered a charcoal turtleneck sweater. Yeah, like I want to look like one of those Steve Jobs wannabes in an Apple store. Her hand brushed against a joke t-shirt with a corset print on that Sarah had bought for her. Yeah, riiiiiiiiiiiight. Nikki was just about to tear out her hair when she spotted something something that made her think. She pulled out the dark red top she had worn the day Sarah first wore a diaper for her, almost a year earlier. Yes! If this doesn't set the mood, I don't know what will. She put it on and checked herself out in the mirror, trying to give herself a stern look. After packing some clothes and hers and Sarah's favourite toys in an overnight bag, Nikki let the final seconds of Ziggy Stardust play out before switching off the stereo and calling Sarah. "Hey there sweetie," she said when Sarah picked up. "I just thought I'd let you know I'm on my way out the door now." "Great. By the way, would you mind swinging by a hardware store or something to pick up some duct tape on the way? "Oooh, planning something naughty?" Nikki grinned at the thought of Sarah all wrapped up in tape; squirming and completely helpless. Sarah laughed. "Not really. Sorry. I just need to fix something." "OK. I should be there in half an hour's time." "You almost sound disappointed. You were hoping I'd be wearing a couple of little patches of tape and nothing more, weren't you." "I will neither confirm nor deny," Nikki said facetiously. "Not even a little hint? Some inspiration for a story maybe?" "Nope." "Aaaww. What if I promise to be a good girl and obey all my beloved mistress' commands?" "Oh you're going to do that anyway my little pet," Nikki purred. "Now you behave yourself until I get there. OK? No-" "No playing with myself. I know," Sarah interrupted, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. "Also, no interrupting. Good little girls know when to keep quiet." "Yes Ma'am," Sarah said meekly. "I'm sorry. I'll be good." "That's better. Now, see you in a little bit." Nikki was sure she could hear a giggle on the other end of the line as she hung up. Maybe I should chastise her for that too. Nikki opened the CD-player, took the David Bowie CD and put it back in its cover before dropping it into her bag. Aaaaand some good music to start the new year with: Check. *** Nikki checked her watch as she fumbled one-handed with her keys. Fifty-two minutes. If I ever end up behind a little, old lady who starts arguing with the one cashier working about the price of plastic bags and how they were cheaper before. And then buying them along with a reciprocating saw and insisting on paying for them with change she digs out of her handbag. If that ever happens again, I'm going to lose it. She opened the door and was met with a warm breath of air that smelled like chocolate cake. "Sarah, It's me," she called. "Be right there." Sarah's voice came from down the hall. Nikki put her shoes on the rack next to the door and hung her coat on of the hooks. She was just about to head down the hallway to put her bag in the bedroom when Sarah came out of the bathroom. She was wearing light grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. "Oh wow!" she said when she saw Nikki's outfit. "You look..." she paused, clearly trying to find the right word. "Incredible." Sarah wrapped her arms around Nikki and gave her a big hug. "I'll put the bag away when I get dressed," she said. Then she took Nikki's hands in hers and walked backwards, gently pulling Nikki towards the living room. What Nikki saw when she walked through the door made her speechless. All the furniture had been pushed up against the walls and in the middle of the room was a big tent made of what looked like several sheets. And there were candles everywhere. A small, safety-minded voice in the back of Nikki's head told her that most of them had to be electric, otherwise they'd be a serious fire-hazard. "I wanted to do this on the roof, but it's just too cold. We're practically only a couple of degrees up from the heat death of the universe." Sarah led Nikki to the giant pile of cushions and duvets in the tent and helped her sit down. "You just relax and I'll get dressed too. Oh, where's the duct tape?" "In my coat pocket," Nikki said absent-mindedly. She was still taking everything in. The tent had been set up so they had a view out of the living room windows. There was a small table with cakes and coffee mugs next to the pile Nikki was sitting in the middle of and under the windows, between two small electric radiators was the TV. The screen showed a burning fireplace. Nikki leaned back and looked up at the ceiling and the how the flickering, golden lights created dancing patterns that were almost hypnotic. She was so absorbed that she almost missed the sound of bare feet against the hallway floor. The sound was muted when Sarah stepped from the hallway and onto the living room carpet. When she came around the tent so Nikki could see her, however, she was still surprised at what she saw. Sarah was wearing an enormous diaper and nothing else. Hanging from the collar around her neck was the chain leash they had bought almost a year earlier. She knelt next to the pillows and lowered her gaze. "That's... I mean..." Nikki was at a loss for words. Finally her brain caught up with her and she cleared her throat. "You... You look absolutely adorable," she managed. "Thank you Mistress," Sarah whispered softly. She crawled closer until the leash dangling between her arms came close enough for Nikki to grab. Then she stopped, letting Nikki pull her closer. She ended up lying on her back across Nikki's lap, the chain forming a cold line from her neck to her armpit. Nikki had one hand under her back while the other rested on her diaper. "That's a big diaper you have there," Nikki said. Way to go genius. Sounding real smart there. "I made the Halloween diaper a little bigger." Nikki lifted Sarah up so her head rested on Nikki's upper arm. "Not just a little," she commented and gave the diaper a squeeze, making Sarah squirm a little. "Do you like it Ma'am?" Nikki smiled at Sarah. "It's perfect," she said. For the longest time they just sat there, Nikki slowly stroking Sarah's hair and Sarah playing with one of the buttons on Nikki's top. The only sounds were the sounds of the fire from the TV and the wind outside the window. Occasionally, Sarah would begin to fidget, but when she did, Nikki would slip her hand just inside the top of Sarah's giant diaper and slowly stroke her stomach with her thumb. In short, it was a perfect moment. Too bad it won't last. "Ma'am? What's wrong?" Sarah looked up at her with a worried expression on her face. "Wha... Why do you ask sweetie?" "You just went all frowny and worried all of a sudden." Sarah reached up to stroke Nikki's cheek. Nikki turned her head and kissed her palm. "It's just... This is so wonderful. And I don't want it to end." "Don't be sad," Sarah said, sounding like she was consoling a child who just found out Santa wasn't real. Nikki sighed. "Three more days. Three more days and four more nights. Then it'll be Monday and our lives go back to the way they were a couple of hours ago." Sarah wriggled her way up to hug Nikki. She nuzzled the side of her neck, causing an involuntary shiver to run down Nikki's back. "It doesn't have to," she murmured. "What do you mean?" "I have something for you." Sarah crawled off Nikki and got to her feet. She extended a hand to Nikki to help her up. A little confused, Nikki took Sarah's hand. "Do you trust me?" Sarah asked. "I thought that was my line," Nikki answered with a sly smile. "I'm serious Nikki. Do you trust me?" Nikki looked at Sarah, her serious tone contrasting wildly with her appearance. Her mussed-up hair, giant diapers and slightly bow-legged stance made her look a little like an oversized baby. Why is she standing like that? She didn't do that before. Nikki cocked her head a little to one side. "Sweetie? Have you wet yourself?" "Yes, but that can wait," Sarah said airily. "Yes sweetie. Of course I trust you." "Close your eyes." Nikki could hear the excitement in Sarah's voice. When she did as Sarah asked, she felt Sarah take her hands and start to gently pull her along. "No peeking," Sarah said with a childish mock-seriousness. They left the living room and slowly walked down the hallway. At what was probably the end of it, Sarah slowly spun Nikki around a couple of times so when she opened a door, Nikki ha no idea which of the three rooms at the end of the hallway it led to. "Threshold," Sarah warned and Nikki took another careful step forwards. Sarah let go of Nikki's hands. "Now just give me a second." Nikki waited patiently while she heard several quiet clicks. "OK, you can look." Nikki opened her eyes. She was standing just inside the door to the bedroom which was lit by the golden glow of a dozen fake candles. Sarah knelt in front of her with her; her thighs spread wide apart by the diapers. She was looking expectantly up at Nikki, smiling like she was waiting for something. Nikki looked around. Something was different, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The bed looks the same as always; minus the pillows and duvet of course. The Narnia wardrobe, the dressers, the big chair with th- Hang on: Dressers? Where'd the second one come from? It took Nikki a couple more moments to recognise the dresser from the guest bedroom. "You've... redecorated?" Nikki asked, not quite sure what else she could say. Sarah didn't say anything. She only held out her hands to Nikki. In her open palms was a box that looked like an oversized version of the boxes jewellers put rings in. "Sarah, I thought we agreed on no expensive gifts." "Just open it Ma'am. Please." Sarah almost whispered the final word. Nikki took the box from Sarah's hands and flipped open the hinged lid. Inside the box was a flat square of brass with "Nicolette Ellis & Sarah Nilsen" in black letters. "What's this?" Nikki asked, turning the little piece of metal over. "It's for the mailbox," Sarah said. "Downstairs." Realisation dawned on Nikki. "Are you asking me to move in?" She looked down at Sarah kneeling in front of her. She almost seemed to be holding her breath. "If you want to," Sarah whispered, barely audibly. Nikki fell to her knees in front of Sarah and embraced her. "Of course I want to sweetie." Nikki's lips met Sarah's in a kiss so intense that Nikki halfway expected music to swell. It was hungry and urgent, but at the same time soft. It almost felt like she was melting as Sarah held her. Eventually, their lips parted and they helped each other up. For a few more moments they just stood there, slow-dancing to music nobody could hear. When Sarah's hands slid down to cup Nikki's leather-clad buttocks, Nikki answered by giving Sarah's diapered butt a squeeze. "Soooo," Nikki said with a grin as she pushed Sarah onto the bed, the plastic sheet crinkling softly when she landed. "What do you say we get you cleaned up and changed so we can start the new year with a bang?" Sarah giggled and lay back, spreading her legs as Nikki crawled onto the mattress between them. 2016 is going to be the best year ever.

Hi there, Long time silent follower and reader of the stories on this site. Had been thinking of writing a story of my own for a while now and the backtoschool competition gave me the motivation I needed. I envision this as being the first part of a three or four part story so not all of the context is provided at the beginning however let me assure you that the characters mentioned are eighteen years of age and older. Further background to the school and its students will be explored in later instalments. Hope you all enjoy! Mount Usher Reform School Jesse Wilson fidgeted as discreetly as she could at her desk. She desperately needed to use the bathroom and wanted nothing more than to run out of the lesson and relieve herself. However, students were not permitted to use the bathroom during class time at Mount Usher Reform School. Gently, shaking her right leg to distract from her ever-growing discomfort in her bladder and bowels Jesse contemplated her options. There was still thirty-five minutes left until the bell and she did not think she was going to be able to hold it until then so she had figured she had three choices. First, she could try to get up and leave. The problem with this however was that the six Classroom Disciplinarians standing around the edges of the classroom were watching all of her classmates intensely, searching for any signs of misconduct, and if she tried anything she knew she would be down the back of the class over their knee before she could even open her mouth to plead her case. A spanking such as those delivered by the Disciplinarians was no small thing to endure and Jesse suspected, the way she was at the moment, it was likely it would result in her having an accident. No, she thought, there was no way she could leave without disaster ensuing. Even now, she had to be careful her less-than-full attention on the lesson did not give the Disciplinarians cause to punish her. Sparing a moment to focus on the board and what Ms. Smyth was saying she was glad at least that this emergency was occurring during Maths, which came easy to her, and she was confident would be able to answer any question without difficulty if called upon. Returning to considering her problem Jesse thought that her second choice was to just attempt to hold it regardless and hope that she would be able to make it despite how badly she felt she needed to go. It was possible she thought that if she could just keep her mind off things she may manage to get through the rest of the class. The only problem with this of course was if she was wrong and soiled herself. Not only would she be humiliated in front of all her peers and the school staff, it would bring her to the attention of the sixth Classroom Disciplinarian the so called “Potty Patrolman”. Toileting problems of any kind fell under the Potty Patrolman’s remit and once that happened it was an inevitable and demeaning return to fulltime diapers. In her one and a half years so far at Mount Usher it did not matter what reason or circumstance might have led to you having an accident – whether it was an illness, bedwetting, a prank, an oversight when wiping - the moment your school approved panties were any less than pristine at the 8am and 8pm inspections you were done for. Even now as Jesse feigned attention to the lesson she could see her friend and former roommate Hazel in the front or “Toddler” row with two other girls. A simple mishap with some orange juice and now she was strapped into a highchair styled chair, though at normal height, sucking a pacifier and wearing a onesie and thick diaper – the uniform for those at toddler level. No, Jesse shook gently shook her head, she could not risk an accident of any kind, let alone a messy one, if she were to retain what little independence, she had at the Reform School. This she knew left her with a final but almost similarly inconceivable choice. Although, it was made clear to the girls that they were not allowed to leave to go to the bathroom during class and all requests to do so would be denied and ignored, if it was an emergency, they could ask to use the class potty. This was a bright yellow, child’s potty with a smiling clown face, sized for adults located in its own demarcated “Potty Zone”. The rules stated that it could be used during class up to three times in one week before you would be placed under the care of the Potty Patrolman. The only problem was that the Potty Zone was in full view of the staff and students since it consisted only of a small plinth to the side of the classroom, upon which the potty sat, and a named sign which hung on the wall behind it. The logic of the Potty Zone being that the student was not really missing class if they used it no matter how long they took since they could keep following the lesson even as they went. Thinking it through Jesse knew what she had to do. Although it would certainly be mortifying for her, she was going to have to ask to use the classroom potty. It was rare enough that any of the girls took this option because of its nature, even just for peeing, so the fact Jesse was going to use it for both number one and two would be the talk of the school for a couple of days. However, she told herself that although no one was likely to completely forget the memory, at least she would not be moved down a level, and her experience would be overlooked once someone else had been embarrassed by the Reform School. Waiting until Ms. Smyth came to a natural rest in her explanation, Jesse raised her hand. Despite the anxiety and dread she was feeling over what she had decided to inflict on herself she was glad she was mature enough to make the decision. Already it was clear that a few of her silent but deadly toots had attracted the attention of the Patrolman’s two aids who were sniffing about and looking in the direction of the Toddler and Pre-schooler rows. After a few moments Ms. Smyth noticed Jesse’s hand and called on her. “Yes Ms. Wilson, do you have a question about the lesson?” “No Miss” Jesse replied with only a slight tremble in her voice. “I wanted to ask if I may use the potty? It is an emergency”. Hearing this, Jesse felt as though the classroom came to a complete halt and now everyone’s eyes and attention was focused solely on her. Her anxiety instantly went up a notch and she could feel her cheeks going red. “Really now” Ms. Smyth said grinning like a Cheshire cat and throwing knowing glances to the Classroom Disciplinarians and Patrolman’s Aids. “Well, I suppose …” she started and then paused as though considering things while Jesse waited in desperation “I suppose you may since it is not like you to try and waste class time, and since you stated it is urgent, if, you have been paying attention. Before you go tell me what is the answer to the following problem on the board?” she said pointing to a particular question. Jesses looked at the problem. It read: Solve for X: 3x+7=22 Thankfully it seemed easy enough to her. Jesse replied “Em… the answer is X is equal to five Miss”. Hearing her answer Ms. Smyth frowned for a moment making Jesse even more anxious and distressed. She was desperately trying not to fart or let anything out to prevent herself from embarrassing herself further than what was necessary. Eventually however Miss Smyth said “That is correct. How did you get the answer?” Rapidly, Jesse replied “To isolate X I subtracted seven from both sides. That left me with 3X is equal to fifteen, then I divided both sides by three to get X is equal to five.” Seeming satisfied then Ms. Smyth said “Yes, well done that is correct answer and solution. For those of you who are struggling… I am looking at you in particular Ms. Robinson” eyeing one particular girl in the second row “take note, as similar questions will be on the test on Friday”. “Now Jesse” she said motioning one of the Potty Aids “you can go and Mrs. King will help you. Everybody else begin working on problems three to fifteen in your textbooks. I do not need to remind you that the Disciplinarians will be watching to make sure no one is daydreaming or slacking off.” Having heard Miss Smyth’s words every one of their classmates turned to their books and copies with an exaggerated fervour all determined not to be punished, however Jesse knew each of them would be attentively following her shameful performance in a few moments out of the corner of their eyes. After all she would have done the same. Who and how someone was punished or humiliated was top gossip among the students at Mount Usher. Jesse waited until the old but fierce Mrs. King proffered her hand before standing, gently taking her hand in turn and allowing herself to be led to the Potty Zone. Instead, of taking the shortest path through the rows, Mrs. King brought her to the opposite side of the rectangular classroom, up the aisle to the top of the class and then finally back down the other side to her destination. Thankfully Jesse still had the presence of mind to watch out for other student’s feet up at the Toddler row who attempted to trip her in a bid to make her have an accident – misery loves company. Mrs. King stood Jesse on the plinth in front of the potty and then began to undo her skirt which she removed after checking it and placing it to one side. She then pulled down Jesse’s underwear and had her step out of them so that she was naked from the waste down but for her shoes and ankle socks. Once she had fully inspected Jesse’s panties for any sign of accident, she placed them on top of the skirt and then taking Jesse’s hand once more directed her bottom down onto the potty – and not a moment too soon. Jesse had practically been doing the potty dance while Mrs. King was going through the proceedings. Looking up at Mrs. King, the older woman finally said “alright Jesse try going to the potty like a big girl”. This was all the encouragement Jesse needed and having been given permission she proceeded to noisily empty her bowels and then bladder into the plastic container. A great squelching noise could be heard by all as her poo hit the bottom of the potty and then a loud hissing noise. Such was her relief that in spite of herself Jesses could not help but release a sigh as this happened. It was only as she was letting out a final few small but very audible farts that seemed to resound within the hollow potty that Jesse began to feel embarrassment over what she had just done. At first, as she came back to herself, she became aware that she was half naked, sitting over her own filth, the smell of which was awful, and there was no toilet paper in sight for her to clean herself up. Then she realised that not only had Mrs. King been watching her the whole time but she could also see some grins from the Class Disciplinarians. Suddenly, she felt tremendously vulnerable and ashamed, and if she could have hidden somewhere, anywhere she would have done so. It was only that Mrs. King was still gently holding her hand that she was prevented from running out the door and sobbing. Looking Jesse straight into her eyes which were beginning to look a bit lost as she receded into herself Mrs. King said “Well done, Jesse” as though she were congratulating a two-year-old who had just begun toilet training. “I bet that feels so much better having gotten that all out. Such a big girl making it to the potty on time!” Looking over to the Toddler and Pre-school rows before looking over to the teacher she said “There are a few potty pants who could take note here as well, isn’t that right Ms. Smyth. Ms. Wilson isn’t just good at maths, she’s also very good at using the potty, isn’t she?” “She certainly is Mrs. King. That was very well done. Exactly what a big girl should do when she needs to use the toilet” replied Ms. Smyth once again with a large grin on her face. Turning to Hazel in the front row, she said “I bet you wish you could be a big girl like your friend Ms. Wilson here, don’t you Ms. Fisher? Instead of being a silly little toddler who does all her pee-pee and poo-poo in her pampers.” Turning red at being singled out, Hazel squeaked behind her pacifier “Yeth, Mwis Swmyth”. “Well, maybe you’ll get there one day, but by the looks of your diaper not for a good long time yet. You have absolutely soaked it! You are quite the little super soaker aren’t you Ms. Fisher." Looking very ashamed and on the verge of tears Hazel said again “Yeths, Mwis Swmyth”. Although, it looked as though Ms. Smyth would keep berating poor Hazel or one of the other toddler girls, at her last comment, Jesse heard someone snigger from somewhere in one of the back rows which they quickly tried to turn into a cough. Unfortunately, for them once of the Classroom Disciplinarians caught them and dragged them up out of their desk by the wrist with an undignified yelp from the girl. Even as she still sat on the potty, Jesse could see that it was Margaret Carter who had been caught and knew from her demeanour that it was probably a nervous laugh she had let out rather than a malicious one. However, now Margaret had caught Ms. Smyth’s ire. “Is there you find funny Ms. Carter about a girl Ms. Fisher’s age still going to the bathroom in her pants?” Ms. Smyth asked giving Margaret a death stare. Jesse like all of the girls in the class knew that this was one of those questions with no right answer. If Margaret said yes then she would likely be given a lesson in empathy which could end in any manner of punishment. However, if she said no then she would be asked to explain why she was laughing and if she could not give a satisfactory answer be called a liar as well. Knowing she was trapped Margaret replied “Sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to laugh but I couldn’t help it. Super soaker is what my mother calls my two-year-old brother as well.” “So, you admit then” said Ms. Smyth “that you were laughing at Ms. Fisher”. “Yes, Ms Smyth” said Margaret hanging her head in shame. “And why did you try to conceal the truth by coughing?” asked Ms. Smyth “I, I didn’t mean to laugh at Ms. Fisher, I wasn’t trying to be mean Miss. It was just the word super soaker made me laugh so I tried to turn the laugh into a cough to hide it and also to try not to disrupt the class” Margaret replied hesitantly. “I see” said Ms. Smith. “Well even if that is the truth and you did not mean to offend Miss Fisher and disrupt my class, you have certainly done that, haven’t you…Haven’t You???” “Yes, Ms Smith. I am sorry Hazel I did not mean to laugh” she said turning to a still mortified Hazel, before turning back to Ms. Smith. “I am sorry Ms Smith for interrupting your class and wasting precious learning time”. “Good. I accept your apology” said Ms. Smyth “and I am sure Hazel does as well. I am glad you recognised your fault and you did not need me to tell you to apologise. That shows maturity. However, because I will not tolerate bullying of any sort in my classroom, even by accident, Mr. Moore is going to give you a sound spanking during recess this morning to ensure you do not do so again, even accidentally, and even when it is funny that a big girl like Ms Fisher is a super soaker. Do you understand and accept your punishment?” Margaret having gone pale knowing that she would not be able to sit down for a week after being paddled by Mr. Moore, otherwise known as Classroom Disciplinarian Number 4, said “Yes Miss. I understand and accept. I’m very sorry”. “Good, and I’m sure you will be very sorry indeed missy during recess! You are lucky though that you accepted your punishment so maturely. Next time I catch you laughing at anyone in my class you are going to have your bathroom privileges revoked and then we will see how funny you think it is being a super soaker yourself.” The whole class having just witnessed this discourse never looked busier to Jesse just then, who was still sitting, half- naked on the potty. “Now where were we” said Ms. Smyth turning back to Jesse and Mrs. King. Checking her watch Ms. Smyth said “there are only just under twenty minutes left in the lesson Mrs. King after dealing with all that silliness. If you could finish helping our potty superstar with her business and bring her back to her seat so that she can continue with the lesson I would appreciate it.” With that Ms. Smyth seemingly lost all interest in Jesse and began walking down the classroom rows, checking to see how much work the students had done so far. Jesse knew from experience that Ms. Smyth would find enough mistakes that there would be at least two or three spankings given out by the end of the lesson. Still out of sorts and feeling very exposed when Mrs King asked her, more quietly this time, if she was finished Jesse could only nod her head in assent. After that, she gently manoeuvred Jesse up off the potty and turned her to the side before forcing her to bend over. Mrs. King then produced a packet of Huggies Baby Wipes as though by magic and began wiping Jesse’s dirty bottom and genitalia before Jesse could even think to protest and ask to do it herself. After each wipe had been used Mrs. King made a point of showing it to Jesse and whispering things like “so dirty” or “disgusting” before throwing them into the potty. Once she had been cleaned to Mrs. Kings satisfaction, her school approved panties were then brought back and Jesse was asked to step into them. Mrs. King then drew them up Jesse’s legs pulling them up right to the top more tightly than necessary so that for a moment it almost seemed as though she were giving her a wedgie. She then had Jesse step into her skirt and tightened it for her, before patting her on the bum a couple of times and leading her all around the room and back to her chair. It was only as Jesse sat down, momentarily relieved despite being thoroughly humiliated she had managed to avoid total long-term disaster, that she realised something was wrong. Her panties felt a little bit damp and sticky under her bum where she was sitting. Jesse hoped it was only residual dampness from the baby wipes but she feared Mrs. King had deliberately failed to wipe her completely so that when she pulled the panties back up so tightly, they would be stained. Considering this new dilemma, Jesse looked on as the potty was being taken to be emptied by the other Potty Aid in the class. With the windows open and special air conditioner working overtime it would not be long until the potty smell would be gone from the classroom, unless of course one of the Toddler or Pre-school level students had a messy accident. If her soiled panties did not give off a potty smell, Jesse felt that it was possible this issue would go unnoticed until lunch when she could quickly swap her panties in her dorm room and wash her current pair by hand. However, she feared that for some reason Mrs. King was out to get her after what she had just done and she would make up some excuse for a panty inspection before then. Suddenly, it was looking all too likely to Jesse that all the indignities she had just put herself through may have been for nothing and there would be more to come soon. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Fidgeting anxiously in the café Amelia couldn’t stop herself from checking the clock every few moments, Irritated that only 15 minutes have passed when it felt like 15 years. To focused on the time she barely notices when the waitress walks up “just yourself today Hun” pulling out a pen and paper for her order. “I’m waiting on someone actually” looking down to avoid eye contact she sheepishly says “could I have small coffee please” she’s never been good with strangers “ of course coming right up” the waitress replies smiling before turning away. Amelia’s eyes once again dart back to the clock with 10 minutes to go, almost squirming uncontrollably “I can’t believe I’m doing this” she murmurs under her breath waiting for the elusive C an older woman she has been chatting on fetlife for the last several weeks. They seem to click on every level spending hours upon hours discussing everything from books to their home life. They decided to wait on a meeting up or giving names, both having been burned heavily in past relationships due to their interests but neither wished to discuss it just yet. Arriving with her coffee the waitress leaves it on the table and heads back up front, suddenly the café door opens up and Amelia hears her say “oh she’s in the back waiting” Amelia straightened up her anxiety going through the rood as she hears the footsteps growing closer until finally. “Hello are you A?” Her voice sounds incredibly familiar to Amelia as she stands and turns, but freezes at the sight of C instantly recognizing her. “Oh no oh no” is all she can say her mind racing “this can’t be happening” standing before her is Claire Parker her old middle school teacher. Not just any teacher, her favorite teacher. The one who was there to comfort Amelia when her best friend pretended she didn’t exist in the cafeteria, the one who helped wipe away the tears when bullies wouldn’t leave her alone calling her “anchor Amy” because of her size. Miss Parker was also the one who encouraged her to follow her passion for music and to be honest the one when had an enormous crush on. She was a huge influence on young Amelia, but suddenly one day she just quit, no word or warning she just vanished. Leaving Amelia devastated. But now over 6 years later they’re once again face to face, she should be overjoyed at the reunion but all Amelia can think about is the fact that she has told Miss Parker everything. Literally every dirty fantasy and kink has been unknowingly discussed with her former teacher; shaking uncontrollably the only thing that stops her from fleeing is 9Miss Parkers reaction. “AMEILIA!!!” she exclaims pulling the startled girl into a warm embrace “now this is a happy coincidence isn’t it” her voice giddy with excitement “it’s been what? 6 years? Look how you’ve grown” looking her up and down Miss Parker gets a good look at her former pupil her smile growing “you filled out in all the right places” Amelia’s face flashes crimson at the compliment, looking down at her thick frame she doesn’t quite get what Ms Parker is seeing “t..th..thank you Miss Parker” is all she can spit out “Oh I think we’re far past calling me Miss don’t you?” her kind demeanor making Amelia fill more at ease “ why don’t you try calling me Claire?” she says as she settles down into the booth. Settling down herself she takes a deep breath to steady her nerves “this isn’t weird for you? I mean you use to be my teacher” says Amelia quietly, her eyes darting back and forth ensuring the coast is clear “I haven’t been your teacher in a long time sweetie, were both adults who know what they are getting into” Claire keeps a close eye on her not looking away for a moment “and besides I think we’d both rather I be your Mommy anyway” she says it so casually it causes Amelia to blush even harder. “but why don’t we forget all that for now” reaching across the table Claire puts a hand on her arm “I’d love for us just to catch up and chat, just treat this like a regular old date, no pressure or expectations. How does that sound?” Thinking of this as a normal date did help alleviate some of Amelia’s anxiety about the situation, I mean at the least this isn’t some stranger just trying to seduce her or anything, it was Miss Parker one of the kindest people she has ever known “I guess that could work” a smile beginning to spread across her face as she begins to relax. And so began their first official ‘date’ it was awkward at first with Amelia stumbling to find her words but soon they were both chatting up a storm talking for hours in the quiet little booth about everything they could think off . It all flowed just so naturally as if they were friends for years. It was the best date either of them had in quite a while. One thing became very evident to Amelia throughout the evening and that is that she was still totally infatuated with her former teacher hanging onto her every word neither of them realizing just how long they’ve been talking until Amelia asks the question that has plagued her for years “Why did you leave the way you did” Claire grimaces, the old memory still causing a sting even now “well you see sweetie back then I was in a relationship that had slowly become toxic. We were bad for each other but neither of us could admit it. In the end I broke things off with her” she pauses staring down at her coffee “she….didn’t take it well” Amelia’s can see her eyes start to glisten and says “you don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful I understand” the last thing she wants is to drudge up old hurts. “No…no it’s ok you of all people deserve an answer” breathing in deep she exhales “my former little ousted me to everyone, she told the school board and all the parents the nature of our relationship and they freaked” Amelia’s eyes grow wide with disbelief. How could anyone do such a cruel vindictive thing to Claire, she was always the kindest and most compassionate out of all the teachers at school. “They gave me the choice to resign with some dignity or be fired” looking down to avoid eye contact she says “I’m so very sorry for never saying goodbye but they wouldn’t let me” a moment of pure silence follows as Claire continues to stare at her coffee. Amelia had never seen the usually confident Miss Parker seem so vulnerable. Shaking her head she looks up at Amelia “but that’s all in the past now” reaching over the table she takes Amelia’s Hand “I’d much rather look to the future” she squeezes a little “and I hope you can be a part of it as my little” Amelia’s entire body once against turns scarlet almost forgetting why they were there in the first place. The thought of loosing Miss Parker again is too much to bear; she squeezes Claire’s hand just as hard before replying “I think I’d like that very much” “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that” says Claire still holding Amelia’s Hand tightly “there’s no rush we can take this as fast or slow as you want ok baby girl” gazing deep into Amelia’s eyes she leans forward over the table their lips just barely touching before she pulls away “I’ll keep you safe, I’ll take care of you, I promise” Amelia’s brain short circuits as their lips meet, she must have day dreamed about doing that a million times back in school but the reality of it is much more satisfying then in fantasy. Her attempts to speak fail miserably, unable to find the right words. Burying her face in her hands incredibly flustered she can only murmur “oh my God that just happened “much to the amusement of her older companion. Mustering the strength of will to lift her head she finally asks “do you mean it…..that you’ll keep me safe? ….. That you’ll take care of me?” Her face instantly serious without a shred of doubt in her voice Claire replies “Always Amelia no matter what we do I’ll be there with you every step of the way” softening her features “you’re going to be my little girl after all” Seeing Claries conviction she relaxes, a state of calm she rarely enjoys. The ideas of being someone’s baby girl making her feel so at ease it’s shocking. Feeling 10 years younger she slips into a headspace she’s not quite familiar expressing in front of others. Having spent her teen years being the good girl, the honour roll student, the constant pressure by her parents to succeed. Heck she has never even had a detention. With a coy smile she leans over and giggles “but what if your baby girl likes being a brat” she teases twirling her honey blonde hair around her finger enjoying being able to show this side of herself to someone “I mean I can be a lot to handle” “Oh is that so” purrs Claire her voice sweeter then honey “well there isn’t a brat born who myself and Miss Hairbrush can’t handle” reaching into her purse she pulls out a solid oak paddle brush placing it in front of Amelia. Biting her lip Amelia’s eyes lock onto the brush, so many deep seated fantasies of being helpless over someone’s knee while they roast her bottom flashing through her mind, squeezing her legs together in need hoping Claire doesn’t notice. Feeling like a bratty teen now more than ever she defiantly proclaims “is that all?” dismissing the brush entirely “you’ve met your match Miss Parker” sticking her tongue out at her former mentor impudently. Leaning to the side Claire raises her hand almost shouting “Check Please!” Sitting in Claries SUV outside her home Amelia’s heart is beating like a drum, she is made to sit in the back on the drive because “little girls are safer back there”. Sticking true to her role Amelia whined “but I wanna sit up front” But was quickly silenced by Claire’s steely glare. Stepping out onto the asphalt the young woman can’t help but stare in awe at the big house, so entranced she doesn’t notice Claire coming up beside her “sweetie there’s something important we need to discuss” Turning around to look up the tall brunette is staring down at her. She can’t help but blush “If anything gets to be too overwhelming or to difficult you just have to say cantaloupe and well stop ok” reaching up she brushes some of amelias hair behind her ears before leaning to whisper “otherwise the second you walk in that door you’ll be nothing but a naughty brat in need of some firm discipline, is that clear” her demeanour changing rapidly, now strict and demanding causing a shiver to run down Amelia’s spine, nodding her head unable to articulate a response Claire gently grasps her hand leading her up the stairs. inside the house is immaculate and well furnished but the awestruck girl has no time to process when she hears “Amelia Jacobs you are in so much trouble” spinning around to see Miss Parker with her hands firmly on her hips stern look across her face. “I can’t believe a girl your age would act like such an incorrigible brat in public” with hands faster then they eye can see she grabs Amelia by the ear much to her dismay“and I know just how to deal with bratty little girls”. Stinging like hell with little choice but to lean forward awkwardly as the older woman leads her into the living room squealing along the way “hey let me go you can’t do this I’m not some little kid” trying her best to sound angry instead of deeply excited being lead to her fate. Ignoring her pleas Claire drags her to the living room before pushing her front and center, where with the same steely gaze as before she orders “Strip!” Amelia’s heart is pounding in her ears, it’s been many years since her last high school gym class, and even then she changed in the stalls insecure about her body. Panicking a little she debates using her safe word until she sees Claries face staring at hermit was a look of pure desire, of hunger and want. No one had ever looked at her that way before, like she was something desirable. Shaking her head meekly she squeaks “n-no I w-wont” stuttering while staring at her feet to hide her excitement. Feeling a hand under her chin her head rises to meet Claire’s gaze “you can do it or I can do it little one your choice” Oh god the thought of Claire stripping her down is almost too much to bear. Gulping down her apprehension and with shaky hands she slips her thumbs into her yoga pants slowly dragging them to the floor hoping that’s the end of it “Shirt to” says Claire leaving no room for argument Hands still shaking lifting her sweater over her head before dropping to cover her voluptuous body, she can feel Claire’s eyes scanning every inch of her until they rest on her wiggly bottom framed perfectly by a lacy pink thong “tsk tsk tsk” is all that comes out “Those panties are unacceptable for a girl your age Amy” taking the waistband of her panties giving it a snap against her waist “we will definitely be making some changes to your underwear drawer” without further warning she gives Amelia a spank on her unprotected bottom “in the corner now little girl” Amelia quickly buries her head into the corner having never felt so exposed while Claire can only stare at her bottom “in 20 minutes I’ll be back and I won’t be empty handed” her hand making its way to her bottom giving it gentle rub before leaving. So here was Amelia, half naked, exposed and having never felt so helpless in her entire life, yet she couldn’t have been more excited.