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Tristan Stone was a lot of things a slayer of dragons, rescue of princesses, courageous, slayer of the evil and breaker of hearts of young maidens everywhere, yes he was brave, daring, cunning and most of all very good looking, yes his exploits and adventures were world renowned or at least that's what he would tell anyone at the local tavern. Truth be told while Tristan was a knight and he was very good looking, the problem is all his adventures and exploits were lies he never slavered a dragon or fought an evil Warlock, while he was cunning he was also tricky, vain, arrogant and selfish. His achievements he had stolen from others thanks to many tricks like a potion to erase someone's memory of the last 5 hours, or waiting for the real hero to weaken the monster get killed and then attack the creature from behind or just sneak in while the creature was distracted to rescue the princess and steal the sacred treasure, yes Tristan Stone was a terrible and the worst example of a knight. So when a bounty for the death of a powerful mysterious sorceress and her powerful ogre, Tristan couldn't resist especially when the promise was to be made King when the job was completed. Tristan had set out with his bag of tricks potions, explosives and traps, his plan was to trick the ogre which he knew for a fact ogres were stupid, then poison it making it go wild and unruly before running away and watching it as it destroyed the cave where it's mistress lived before causing a cave in with explosives and before getting proof and running back to the king for his reward.

16-year-old Zelinda Seacrest is a vegetable, stuck in a coma for 11 years and counting. Her mother Zentroz is worried about the health of her daughter, hoping every day that she would awaken from her endless sleep. But unbeknownst to her mother, Zelinda's dreams have served as a wondrous, attractive, and nearly permanent destination since they began 11 years ago. A magical kingdom paradise born from her imagination, with Zelinda princess over it all. And with an imagination that has grown beyond her wildest dreams, Zelinda ventures to the surface of her subconscious, bringing her overactive imagination with her. Meanwhile, Zentroz grows restless with her husband Jonathan as they receive news of the moment that they were waiting for. A care-free Zelinda finally awakens, ready to experience the strange new world that awaits her. And with the kingdom in her mind, she slowly introduces it to her parents, before gradually growing homesick of her dream world again. The thought of the mysterious dream world that her daughter describes begins to worry Zentroz. And her daughter's growing attachment to it worries her even more. And as the days and weeks go by with Zelinda's numerous revisits to the land of her imagination, her daughter begins to change more and more. What was this mysterious land that she spent so much time in? Why does Zelinda keep becoming more and more different? Before any of Zentroz's questions could even be answered, Zelinda becomes as mysterious as the dream world that she first experienced in her coma and her parents begin to find themselves right in the middle of their daughter's fantasy world. Welcome to the kingdom born from imagination. Welcome to Zelinda's Garden. I. The Planting Chapter 1: Nowhere Zelinda Seacrest’s eyes looked so empty that you would believe that there’s nothing inside her. Her eyes never changed or moved. If you were to try to talk to her, you would clearly get no answer. All you would get is a glance of her dazed stupor. A robotic glance devoid of any real intelligence. Her hazel hair flowed down to her shoulders. Her face was lightly freckled with a couple areas of acne starting to form. Her left bra strap sagged over the v-neck of her sky-blue dress. Lacking any awareness, Zelinda continued to stare into nothing. While her own heartbeat proved that she was alive, Zelinda was nowhere to be found. She was sitting on a soft tan couch, with her neck hunched over. Her parents sat beside her, impatiently looking at their phones for the time. “When is he coming?” Jonathan said, staring up from his phone screen. “It’s three minutes after four! The doctor is three minutes late!” “Calm down, dear.” Zentroz said, patting her hand on his right shoulder. “Maybe she’s with another patient.” Zentroz gazed over at her teenage daughter and tucked the bra strap back into her dress. “There honey. I fixed it.” But Zelinda didn’t respond. She maintained her same blank stare as usual. “Why do you talk to her?” Jonathan said, sighing. “She is not even there!” “How do you know?” Zentroz asked him. “There might be something going on inside her. You don’t know!” “Do you still think that? She’s been like this for 11 years!” Zentroz took the defensive. “Maybe so, but she’s still my daughter and I want to talk to her. Isn’t that right, Zelinda dear?” She waved her hands up and down over Zelinda’s eyes, which remained still. Zentroz could remember the last time that her daughter was normal. It was just a few days after Zelinda’s fifth birthday, in the year 2043. Zentroz was putting her daughter to bed. “No mommy!” she cried. “Tell me more of the story!” Zentroz held the book shut and smiled. “Don’t want to ruin the surprise, dear. You’ll hear some more tomorrow night, okay?” She leaned over her daughter’s bed and nuzzled her nose over her daughter’s face. “I love you, dear.” Zelinda gave her mother a look of curiosity. “Mommy?” “Yes dear?” she asked, staring into her eyes. “Am I a princess, like the story you told me?” Zentroz waved her hand on her daughter’s face like a magic wand. “You are, dear. You’re a beautiful princess.” Zelinda’s face lit up and she began to smile. “Look at me, mommy! I’m a princess!” Zentroz nodded, giving her daughter a very excited face. “You are! Good night, dear!” She kissed her daughter goodnight and left the room. During that night, something strange started to happen. Zelinda quickly fell asleep and was filled with the dreams from all the stories that her mother told her. Stories about beautiful princesses and heroic princes to rescue them. Fond memories of all the playtime that she had during that day. Then it happened. In the morning, Zelinda stopped. Her face gave a blank stare, which has remained unchanged to this day. Wherever Zelinda went that one night, she never wanted to come back. The doctor finally came in and shook both Zentroz’s and Jonathan’s hand. Dr. Julia Prost greeted her patient with a warm smile. “How’s Zelinda today?” Zelinda gave her usual response, giving her a blank and emotionless stare. Dr. Prost nodded. “Fine as usual, I would guess?” She adjusted her glasses and gave Zentroz a serious stare. “I know that you want to see your daughter back in the right mind. Do you mind if we run some more tests on her again?” Jonathan sighed. “What difference would that make? You have done this every month for years!” Dr. Prost gave Jonathan a sharp stare. “Yes, I know. But what else can we do? There might be something else that we can find out about her. Something that might get you your daughter back.” Zentroz elbowed Jonathan and smiled at the doctor. “Oh, we would love that! Wouldn’t you want that, honey?” Jonathan nodded. “Yes, I would, but we’ve been down this road for about 11 years now. Do you really think that this would make any difference?” “Yes!” she sharply responded. “I think that it would make a lot of difference! Let’s just do what the doctor says. Okay?” She looked back at the doctor and nodded. “Go ahead and take her. If you have any questions regarding her, they’re all going to be the same as last time. Just to save you the time.” Dr. Prost nodded. “That’s fine. And that’s also why we would like to run some more tests on her. Just asking the same questions and trying all the same things as before isn’t going to change anything. All we can do is run some more tests. Maybe we can reach her this time.” “I hope!” Zentroz said with a smile. Dr. Prost held Zelinda by the hand and led her outside the room to the lobby with Zentroz and Jonathan following. Some other specialists were standing there, ready to take Zelinda. Zentroz’s smile faded when she saw the specialists guiding Zelinda down the hallway. “Leave her to us.” Dr. Prost said, giving her a reassuring smile. I’ve trained the new staff so they’ll know what to do with her. I’ll keep a good eye on her, okay?” Zentroz nodded. “Okay. Let’s go home, honey!” Zentroz and Jonathan left, leaving Zelinda to the doctors. The doctors ran all the usual tests on Zelinda, but the results were the same as last time. By that time, it was evening, so they placed her in one of the hospital beds. Zelinda’s blank stare retired for the day. Her eyelids drooped shut and she fell asleep. *** Zelinda watched as her mother tucked her in. That was a wonderful story. She wanted to hear more and how it turned out. Where did the princess go? What land did she travel to next? Maybe she’ll tell me more if I ask her… But the mother closed the book. Zelinda, now crushed, started to cry. “No mommy!” she whined. “Tell me more of the story!” But the mother just stood there, holding the book in her hands. Zelinda glanced at the book and frowned. If only I could get that book! Maybe mommy tell me just a little more…” “Don’t want to ruin the surprise, dear,” she told her. Zelinda’s tears were erased when she heard the word “surprise”. What? Surprise? Where? Zelinda glanced around, trying to find where the surprise was. “You’ll hear some more tomorrow night, okay?” Zelinda glanced at the book that was out of her grasp. Tomorrow? I can’t wait until tomorrow! Please let it be soon! Pleeeease? She felt the nuzzling of her mother’s nose against hers. Oh, I love it when mommy does that! I hope that she kisses me too! “I love you, dear,” the mother warmly told her. Zelinda then thought of the story that she just heard again. That princess in that story…Is that me? Maybe mommy knows! Mommy knows everything… “Mommy?” she said with great eagerness. The mother stared deeply into Zelinda’s eyes. “Yes dear?” Zelinda began to smile even more. “Am I a princess, like the story you told me?” She watched her mother wave her hand on her face. It’s a magic wand! She’s turning me into a princess! “You are, dear.” The mother told Zelinda. “You’re a beautiful princess.” Zelinda smiled very brightly. She closed her eyes, imagining her beauty. She then opened her eyes. “Look at me, mommy! I’m a princess!” The mother nodded and smiled widely at Zelinda. “You are! Good night, dear!” Zelinda glanced at her mother, who gave her a very nice kiss on the cheek. There we go! She didn’t forget! Yay! After the mother left the room, Zelinda’s eyes became heavy. When she opened her eyes, she was in a magical land. She got out of her royal bed and glanced out of the window. She was in a beautiful castle on top of a very high hill. When she saw the view, her royal chamber, and her royal princess gown, she sighed with ecstasy. “Wow!” she squealed. “I really am a beautiful princess! “I never want to leave this kingdom! Ever!” And that is just what happened. Since the night she dreamt that dream, she has remained princess of her very own kingdom. All while her body continued to age day by day from the outside. While her mother was worrying about her vegetative state, she was having the time of her life, living every one of her days as a beautiful princess in a land of her very own. *** Eleven years has passed since Zelinda began the wonderful journey to her very own kingdom. Every day played out exactly as the day before. Her mother the queen would tell her that one day, the land would be hers. Everything that she could see outside the window of her castle would belong to her. Zelinda, still five years old, squealed as she played with her royal blocks. She stacked the blocks to make a royal castle of her own. Looking out of the castle, she frowned. “Mommy, can we make the castle bigger?” Right after she said that, the castle grew to exactly the size that she wanted. “Yay!” She got to her feet and ran around all the new rooms that she made in her now bigger castle. When she entered the throne room, she went and sat on the throne. “Mommy?” she asked. The queen immediately appeared. “Yes dear?” “Can I be ruler now?” she asked her. Right after she asked her, a crown appeared on her head. “You are, dear!” she told Zelinda. “You rule everything!” Zelinda smiled. “I do!” All of a sudden, Zelinda suddenly remembered the story that her mother promised that she would tell her. She glanced at the queen. “Can you tell me the story now?” The queen looked at her in confusion. “What story do you want me to tell you?” Zelinda smiled. “You know! The princess story!” The queen nodded and smiled. “You’re already a princess. What story do you want to hear?” Zelinda frowned and began to pout. “You don’t know the story. I wanna hear the story!” A portal appeared and Zelinda saw it. Wow! A flashing thing! If I go through it, will mommy tell me the story? Zelinda ran eagerly through the portal and went through it, her very own kingdom vanishing behind her…

Law of the Diaper - Episode 2 - Part 1 Meliora Lady Meliora Van De Natte sighed heavily as she relieved herself, urine spiralling down her leg and onto the clay-tiled floor of the hall. She sat at a long table, with many other guests in attendance, including her distant cousin, the King, himself. The floor was sloped in a way that allowed people’s pee to flow into the middle, where they were promptly drained away. Despite this, the floor was still wet, and reflected the gold trim of the high-beamed roof. The chamber was grand, regal, and -- to Meliora at least -- a little over-pompous. And to consider, she thought, that those babies in the north believe us to be barbaric. Meliora didn’t much like the haughty nature of the court, but barbarity? Ha! She scoffed at the very thought of it. The King was in the middle of another one of his showy-speeches, “...for many a year now. To think! Back then we were but insects on the world stage…” and Meliora was getting tired of it. As much as she detested these things however, they were necessary to keep the king satisfied, especially as she needed to talk to him with great urgency. But, the King was in the middle of making himself look good, so she decided to concentrate on her food, it was the only good thing about these feasts anyway. Sitting cosily on her silver platter, was a selection of smoked vegetables, steaming roast potatoes, and slices of Stalle, fried to perfection. Many years ago, so the holy texts said, when humans and non-humans were at war over food, the god Liefyr gifted the peoples of the world the plant Stalle, so they would cease eating eachother. Apparently it had worked, because sat around the table with her, where many a non-human. Not that anyone had ever put much thought into it. The days where tension grew high between species was long gone, relegated to the history books of old. At least here in the south. Court and country were a civilised place now, happy and harmonious. Well, country was, court perhaps not so much. Despite the relative peace in the presence of the king, tensions between individuals still ran high, especially behind his back. Opposite Meliora was Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf with a particularly sly canine-gaze. Like Meliora, he sat stoically, determined not to give anything away to his political enemies. Enemies like Meliora. Just look at him, she thought with a juvenile air of competitiveness, thinking he can beat me at my own game. She broke her stoicism, and her meal, for a brief glare at Aert, but before the wolf could return it, the King concluded his speech. “Thank you! Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience.” the King waved magnanimously. He was kind, and often cared for the people of Plassenar, but unfortunately that came at the cost of any real power. Even now, one Kanniss Blomscheet, a wealthy sugar-merchant who’d been invited, was whispering in the king’s ear. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner however, and she to no one else. Her neighbor, Lady Halene Goudenel, was chatting idly to the man next to her, a lord which Meliora didn’t know. Meliora continued eating, ignoring the two chattering, but halfway through their conversation, Lady Halene lifted her furry rear upwards slightly, and farted noisily. “Ahhhh,” she sighed, “I shall have to go to the mess-hall after this!” Halene waved her hand in front of her nose, looking around. Meliora hoped that the woman wouldn’t notice her, but alas, it was not to be. “Lady Van De Natte! I didn’t see you there!” she said, her talking companion going pale upon seeing who Halene was attempting to talk to. Halfway through a bite of food, Meliora made an attempt at saying ‘hello.’ It came out as more of a stuffed mumble. “Hello to you too! Wonderfully diverse platter today, wouldn’t you say?” Halene continued, determined to push through the awkwardness. She twirled her hair around one of her antlers aimlessly, waiting for a response. Meliora eventually gave in, swallowing her food indelicately. “Yes, I suppose so.” Unfortunately, it seemed that Halene took that as cause to persevere, because just as Meliora was about to resume her meal, the woman conversed again. “I take it you wish to see His Majesty after we have concluded.” It was a statement, not a question. For some reason Meliora felt a child crawl through her. Suddenly she was on edge, and she felt another trickle of warm urine down her bare leg. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner. No one. Did she want something? Meliora realised that she had been quiet too long. “Yes, my Lady. I do. Is there something you wish to ask?” “Oh, no. Actually, I was hoping to speak to you afterwards. However, I understand that you’re busy.” Halene said. Meliora wasn’t sure how to respond. She rarely spoke to Lady Goudenel, her being on the High Council for only a few months. Meliora hadn’t gotten a good read on the woman yet, she was still somewhat of an enigma, and that scared her. It was a strange feeling -- Meliora couldn’t remember the last time she had been scared. Should she accept? This would be a good opportunity to understand the woman a little better. Maybe Meliora would gain some information on one of the other council members. It was a tempting prospect. “Unfortunately not tonight,” Meliora said eventually, “but --” “It isn’t at all urgent,” interrupted Halene, waving her arm toward the table. “When are you next available?” “It may not be for some time. If all goes well I aim to be out of the country for a week or two.” “Well, that just happens to be the subject I wished to bring up.” Halene asked with the dimmest flicker of a smile. Despite herself, Meliora smiled back. “I should have room for tomorrow afternoon, if that will suffice.” “Wonderful!” the woman said with an excited nod, complimented with a wide grin, “I look forward too--” Ffffttttt. The odorus noise spilled out from her seat. “Oh dear. This food really has got the better of me. I do hope this all finishes soon, or I may have to relieve myself here!” Halene giggled at her little joke, and returned to her dinner leaving Meliora to ponder what she had gotten herself into. By the time everyone had finished, the King was ready to retire. He bowed, waved his hand, and excused guests, some of which tried to hound him. Meliora would have to get in quick. Thankfully, some of the people going after His Majesty, were some of her own. Magist Gaerdt and his young apprentice, a feline girl in her twenties, were trying to push past the guards. Knowing that they’d never get past, they were instead preventing the King from leaving quickly enough so that Meliora could catch a word. Fortunately, Meliora was very much respected by the guards, and they let her pass with no small amount of reverence. She had to admit, she liked the effect it had -- as if the oceans were parting for her. It made her feel strong and powerful. “Your Majesty, if I could only-” Gaerdt croaked, before Meliora glided past. “Your Majesty!” she said, bowing gracefully. She wouldn’t have much time to convince him, only a sentence or two. This would have to be done carefully. “May I have a word? It is of the utmost importance.” The King stopped in his tracks, lowering his head respectfully. “Lady Meliora, I’m sure you have much to say, but can this wait? It is late and I-” “Well …” Meliora countered, “I was going to ask about next week’s summit. I would very much like to ask you some questions, run some ideas past you. After all, most of the men here are on the wizened side of wise. You have a much more contemporary view of politics.” Long ago, Meliora realised that to survive court politics, you had to be brutal. You had to systematically hunt down your enemy’s weaknesses, and exploit them ruthlessly. The King liked clever words, or at least words that sounded clever to him, and a little stroke of his ego wouldn’t hurt either. Merchants were good at that, hence their power in his court. Luckily so was Meliora. Clearly it had worked, because the King seemed to be considering her proposition. “Oh, all right. But we shall have to talk in the mess-room, I’m getting rather desperate.” The King finally conceded. “Gaerdt,” said Meliora, turning to her Magist, “Please wait for me in my quarters, we have much to discuss afterwards.” “Yes, Lady.” he replied, and he and his apprentice bowed. “Come Narriss, we still have to find that book.” and with that, the aging man hobbled away, the young feline apprentice helping. Meliora and the King were escorted to the mess room, the King dribbling pee behind him as he walked. Usually, due to the sterile nature of urine, one could relieve themselves wherever they wished. Excrement, however, was not so sanitary. Peasants usually messed themselves as they toiled, using it as fertiliser for their fields. Here in the city however, designated mess-halls, or in the King’s case a private mess-room, was where people went number two. The room was somewhat large, big enough for multiple people. At the far end were two windows and a small balcony, bordered by the Plassen flags -- brown fabric, with white and golden waves. The King often held meetings here, so there was seating, golden chairs with silk cushions. The floor was the same clay tiles of the dining hall, each bearing the royal standard. Meliora made a move towards a chair opposite the King, who upon entering immediately pulled his pants down, starting to fidget. Meliora herself was wearing a dress, much preferred when desperate. Watching as the King leant over his seat, pushing, Meliora thought of what she was going to say, how she would approach this. It was important, and the King needed to understand what was at stake here. “Gggggrrrrrggg” he groaned, pushing out two long logs of poop. They snaked out of him, and coiled around each other neatly onto the stained cushion below. What am I going to say? What would convince a man to go to war? “Ahhhhhh …” sighed the King in relief, a few loose farts escaping. He sat back down on top of his mess, pushing it into the cushions with an audible squelch. Then, just as Meliora got an idea of how to approach the topic, he wriggled his bottom, pushing the poop around. Prince or peasant, it didn’t matter -- squishing was one of the few feelings that everyone enjoyed, Meliora included. A spike of envy even shot through her momentarily, annoyed that she didn’t have to relieve herself, but she quickly regained focus. “Right then, Lady Meliora. What do you want to know?” “Well Your Majesty, first and foremost, do you have any ideas about approaching the treaty?” she asked. The King looked slightly taken aback at that, and Meliora had to force her face to keep straight. “Whatever do you mean, Lady? I was under the impression that they had already agreed to sign it?” “Well yes, they did imply that.” Meliora said, steering the King into the position she wanted. “But we know the North cannot be trusted with matters as serious as this. They are frivolous and fickle, thinking only about their play and not their work. You don’t really expect them to be that consistent do you?” Meliora didn’t really lie. It was cause for concern. These northerners knew nothing of hard work and labor, many lived in luxury, playing all day. “I had assumed--” “With the utmost respect your Majesty, that is exactly it. You assumed.” “You didn’t come here to ask me for help did you?” He looked like a child being told off. Perhaps he was ashamed that he had been so naive. Meliora almost felt bad. But he needed to know. He needed to understand. Meliora respected the man’s kindness too much to lie about something like this. “My King, if I may speak frankly?” she waited for him to nod his head, and then continued, “I don’t believe any good can come of this summit. The people of Luin … they’re not like us. They won’t sign this treaty, there’s too much that they gain from war.” “What could they possibly gain from war?” the King asked, leaning forward. “Weapons sales, unity through common enemy, certainty in a changing world.” Meliora sighed, it was a harsh truth that war was so simple. Contracts, treaties, negotiations, why bother when you could just engage in conflict? There was a deep silence between the two. The King had his face in his hands, thinking. Meliora had to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. Of course she was. The King only wished his people had the same luxury that the Luiners had -- he could be a great King, truly great, if tempered by the ruthlessness of his aides. Why was it so hard to watch this man accept that war was inevitable. Was she as ruthless as she thought? “Meliora,” the King said suddenly, raising his head from his hands, “I hear what you are saying. I really do. You don’t trust Luin, and you want to strike before they have the chance to lure us into a false sense of security.” “Yes. Yes, Your Majesty, that is precisely it--” but before she could continue the King interrupted. “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a prince, my father took me to the front line. The regalia and glory of war was appealing to a child, and I went with glee. But when I arrived it was nothing like I thought. The place stank of death, of decay. There were bodies lined up in the streets of camp, sometimes in piles. It -- I still have nightmares. But I had never thought more clearly than in that moment. I bent down to one of the bodies, and …” the King stopped. He seemed distant, as if scared to go back there, to that place. Meliora hadn’t seen him like this before. “... And I bent down to say my prayers to one of the fallen. It was a boy, Meliora. A boy of twelve years old! I can’t remember what caused his death, only that his face was death itself. His eyes were empty. His soul, gone. Imagine what was taken from the world. Imagine the potential that boy might’ve had. All gone in an instant.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes slowly coming back into the room. Meliora was transfixed, “Lady Van De Natte, the other side may be very different from us, but I can guarantee their children have died too. Lives on both sides have died for a war they didn’t start. If they have a shred of humanity, and suspect they have more than a shred, then believe me when I say, they want to end this war as much as you or I.” The King was looking at Meliora now, directly into her soul. His deep, brown eyes yearning for peace, yearning for an end to this petty conflict. The ripple of doubt in Meliora’s mind had transformed. Great waves of torment, battered by a storm of guilt and shame, crashed and bellowed within her. They twisted her stomach, tugged violently at her chest. Could she be ruthless? I have to be. She had to be ruthless for the good of the realm. There was a long, final pause before Meliora spoke. She sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do, Your Majesty?” Narriss Narriss hadn’t seen anything like it before. The port in which the ship was docking was packed full of people. They brushed past each other, all heading to one place or another, like an ant colony. Even the capital hadn’t been this busy, or if it ever had, Narriss had been busy working with master Gaerdt. The gentle slosh of the ocean lapping against the boat, had been replaced by shouting, chattering, and a loud constantly-ringing bell. But what shocked her the most was what people were wearing. Some, like her, wore tunics and pants, robes and cloaks. But some wore onesies, sucked pacifiers nonchalantly, and underneath it all were the unmistakable bulges of diapers. In spite of this, the air smelt familiar. Sea salt and urine mixed in the air across the harbor, floating across the ocean beyond. Narriss’ closed her eyes. The wind blew gently through her fur, her tail swayed gently behind her, and her ears relaxed by her sides. She inhaled deeply, taking in the atmosphere of the place, and a strange peace came over her. A gentle, laminar peace. “Narriss.” A sharp voice from behind her said. She turned quickly, seeing Master Gaerdt standing there. “Come, we have business with Lady Meliora.” Narriss nodded, and followed her teacher down into the ship’s cabins. They had been travelling here, to the Isle of Ieder, for three days now, and she was getting sick of being bunged up in a tiny cabin with Master Gaerdt. She had complained out loud initially, which had been a mistake. “It gives you plenty of time to focus on your studies instead of napping then.” Master Gaerdt had said, never glancing away from his work. Though she swore she could hear a smile in his voice. Lady Meliora’s chambers were nowhere near as cramped as everyone else’s. As they entered, Narriss saw the familiar sloped floor, with a tile pattern running from under Meliora’s desk. It was glistening wet. The tile pattern continued past the centre of the room and rose again like the edge of a bowl, stopping under a plush-fabric seat. Lady Meliora herself sat at an ornate desk, silhouetted a little by grand windows behind her. Why don’t we have any windows like that? Narriss asked herself as she stood behind her teacher. Meliora scribbled something on a piece of fresh paper, before glancing up to Narriss and Master Gaerdt. She gestured for them both to sit. “Master Gaerdt,” she said, nodding to Narriss’ left, “Apprentice Narriss,” she nodded to Narriss, “Thank you for attending me here.” That was odd. Meliora barely seemed to notice Narriss normally, let alone speak to her. This was all strange. Something was about to happen, Lady Melliora wanted something from Narriss, but what could she possibly offer? She was just an assistant, an apprentice. A flash of dread struck through her. The Lady looked uncomfortable sitting at her desk, almost fidgety. She was never normally like this at all. What was going on? Meliora cleared her throat before continuing where she left off. “As you are both aware, we have a very important mission here on Iedar. To go over our aim again, Master Gaerdt, we want to establish relations to aid the signing of the North-South Disarmament Treaty, as requested by …. nnng … the King.” Meliora looked wholly uncomfortable after she said that, jostling in her seat. It was well known to the servants of Meliora, Narriss included, that the woman thought the war was still a necessary fight. Narriss had to agree. Unlike here in the south, Luin and the Dullen Isles (especially the former) were hostile to her kind. Plassenar was fighting for freedom -- freedom to relieve yourself where you wanted without punishment, freedom to be chaotic, and freedom to be different. If that meant tearing down their broken culture to achieve this freedom, so be it. “Now that all the official stuff is out the way,” Meliora continued, “I need to ask you two a favor. This stays absolutely confidential, do you understand?” she looked directly at Narriss as she said it, and without hesitating, Narriss nodded back. She wasn’t sure she liked the Lady, but the woman’s cause was just. “I cannot … nnn … I cannot believe I’m about to say this --” Lady Meliora went quiet suddenly, and began to wriggle more noticeably. She slid her rear across the velvet cushion of her seat. Narriss looked to Master Gaerdt, who only blinked in surprise. Meliora put a hand between her legs, and suddenly Narriss realised what was happening. As if she needed any more confirmation, Meliora quickly gave up, and took her hand away, said “Oh, blast!” rather more audibly than Narriss suspected the lady intended, and leant back in her chair. Less than a second later, she sighed as urine gushed out from under the table, hissing through Lady Meliora’s dress. Even from the other side of the table, Narriss could see a dark patch spreading on her clothes, as familiar as the blue sky. “Mmmmmmmaahhhh!” Meliora’s shoulders lowered and despite her usually reserved demeanor, a tiny smile flickered onto her face as she peed. She quickly finished and, evidently self conscious all of a sudden, straightened her dress before plastering on a calmer expression that contrasted oddly with her now scarlet cheeks. Silence punctured the room, and Narriss couldn’t help but look to master Gaerdt. However, he patently ignored her, focused on the Lady. “My Lady! Were you … were you holding that in!?” he said, visibly shocked at what he’d just witnessed. As if in defiance of what had happened, Narriss’ master let his own water escape, flooding his robe. Small rivers of urine, from both Meliora and Gaerdt, flowed into the centre of the room and were swallowed by the drain leading to the wooden cistern below. Meliora grew softly stern, straightening in her seat. “Not a word to anyone else on this ship at what you just witnessed, is that understood?” As shocked as she was, Narriss was the first to nod. She was used to taking orders, from Meliora, from Gaerdt, from any of her many superiors. But somehow Meliora didn’t feel so high and mighty anymore. Something about what had just happened made the woman less imposing, less regal. It was like a cloud had blotted the sun. Everything was still in the same place, but a certain luster had vanished. Narriss noticed Meliora looking at her, and she snapped her face back to impassiveness. Did the Lady notice? Eventually, Gaerdt followed with his nod of submission to the Lady, but Meliora just sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry you two had to see that.” she said somewhat sullenly, “These people, the summit, they expect certain behaviors from us, just as we do them. The deal was that they would be prohibited from going over-the-top with their regalia just as we do ours, to avoid offence. Part of that is … we are to relieve ourselves away from their notice during the meetings. I was practicing, here, now, and clearly I could not handle it.” “What restrictions have been placed upon them, my Lady?” Gaerdt looked to Narriss, appalled that his apprentice was talking without permission, but she couldn’t help herself. All this had gotten her riled up. Why should Plassenar have to bend to the will of another nation, just to sign some stupid treaty? Why should Plassenar suffer? However, Lady Meliora didn’t seem to mind. “That is a good question, Apprentice. In exchange for us being subtle about our culture they have agreed to hold back on their pompous clothes, and ... let ambassadors from different species into the meeting.” Narriss’ head boiled with indignation. Under the table, away from the view of the Lady, she clenched her fists, hard. Her hairs pricked up in defense, and she felt her face grow taught, struggling not to grind her teeth. Meliora was going through all this trouble to appease these people, when they should just treat everyone as equals. More and more, Narriss was growing angry at this whole twisted situation. The king, our king, wants to make peace with them? Meliora seemed to sense her utter frustration at the situation, and leaned forward. “I understand that this is hard Narriss --” “I’m sorry but you don’t understand at all.” Narriss snapped, half thinking. Gaerdt’s bemused face melted into anger at his apprentices’ impulsivness. But Narriss didn’t care. She was angry, and had the right to be so. However, Master Gaerdt had been teaching her to control that anger, focus it. “Apologies, my Lady, I shouldn’t have said that.” Narriss expected Meliora to be annoyed just as her master was, but the woman was strangely resigned about the whole thing. “No, it’s fine,” Meliora said, waving it away, “You are right. I don’t understand. This is why I have chosen you for the task. I know I can trust you, you’ve been with master Gaerdt here as long as any of my other staff, and your rank means you are in a prime position to understand both court and country in a way my friends simply cannot. But, more than all that, you are one of the people that Luin is trying to restrict. Your eyes, in that regard, see differently to mine. I grew up in a castle, in a place of privilege and luxury. I need to see what you see if I am to win this meeting.” “I’m sorry my Lady,” Gaerdt said, “Win?” “Quite, magister Gaerdt. No one wants peace, so even a small concession towards that aim will be a victory. But we need to focus. We need to practice. We need to keep calm.” Meliora said with the slightest hint of flourish in her voice. She was right. This was all too important to let anger take it all away. That’s what they wanted. Narriss breathed in deeply, centering herself. The anger within her, that raging storm, spiralled in her chest. Slowly, carefully, she pushed upwards into her head. She drew power from it, cunning, and perception. Eventually, it was no longer anger, but a vague pool of energy. Narriss felt as if she could draw from it, take whatever she needed. Her stomach cramped slightly as she contemplated it, feeling something brewing within. But before she could put much thought into that, Meliora spoke up a final time. “What I need from you Narriss, desperately, is reconnaissance. I need as much information as I can get -- ideally what the very heart of their culture is. What I need is to see where they eat, change, and what they do when they’re not at these meetings. But even then I fear that I am still not prepared. I’ll be honest, I wish I could send Gaerdt but ... ” Lady Meliora looked down at the wet patch on her clothes. For the first time, Narriss saw fear on her mistress’ face. “This little demonstration shows our weakness. We need to hide it. We need to be discreet. Gods forbid it should come to this, but what I need is a diaper.” Narriss Waygar, the capital of Iedar, smelt of crap. Literal crap. This was a very strange place, chaotic and bewildering, far more so than even the capital city. Because it was a sort of neutral zone between Luin and Plassenar, both peoples went about their own rituals without regard for the other. Some, few, relieved themselves in the street, where they stood, not bothering to consider those around them. Just like home, Narris thought. But others wore gaudy clothes, onesies with bright patterns on them, frilly dresses, and sucked on pacifiers. They kept their business, and smells, hidden in the seat of their pants. Even here, closest to the Plassen crossing, these were in the vast majority. A group of Littles were huddled together just down the street ahead, one leaning against a stone wall. They were whispering conspiratorially to each other, one glancing over their shoulder. Narriss didn’t get a good look at their expression whilst she hurried past however. As she approached, a tall woman in normal clothes burst out of the wooden door next to them and ushered the group of littles indoors. Although she looked almost normal in that long green dress, Narriss could see the obvious bulge of a diaper underneath. The woman spun around to close the door, and a flicker of fear shadowed her face momentarily, before she fled inside. Narriss bowed her head to the ground, feeling her face boil, and her stomach growl. How was she supposed to actually find out about their culture if they did this? After wandering about for an hour or so, Narriss didn’t have much luck finding anyone who wanted to converse. It was difficult identifying any Plassener’s to talk to here. Besides being so very few of them, any she managed to approach seemed to scarper away, warily. She’d even tried going up to the guards, but they’d just growled and skulked away as well. This was all taking too long, the meeting was only in a couple of hours and she still had no information. ‘Plan B’ was the merchants. Not quite the everyday person that Narriss was hoping to find, but maybe it would work. Surely they wouldn’t pass down a customer? At the very least she could find somewhere to acquire a diaper. She’d been putting it off, though she didn’t quite know why. All this was so odd--the way the Luiners just waddled brazenly about in their baby-clothes, locked away under layers of padding. After a brief wander through the mud-laden alleys of the town, Narriss managed to find a small market selling a vast collection of things. One was selling books from an open-air stall nearby. Maybe he would be able to help. He was talking with someone else, a large woman with somewhat shaggy hair. She didn’t look much like a Little, so Narriss assumed she was a Big, the people who cared for the freaks that dressed up. As Narriss approached the stall, the woman glanced behind. Her conversation with the shopkeep died down to hushed whispers and, reflexifley, Narriss’ ears pricked up. Naturally, they were much stronger than human ears, and picked up the conversation without much hassle. “I hear they’re planning on invading, by migrating into Luin!” the woman said. The man simply nodded solemnly as if it was a sad truth to be accepted, like death or paying taxes. The man’s face scrunched up and he grunted quietly. At first Narriss assumed it was the topic of conversation that had caused such a reaction. But then she remembered the diapers. “Yeah, as if we don’t let them close enough already. That new deal’s supposed to make it easier for them to get in, y'know. I --” the man cut off as he caught Narriss’ eye. “No no, please keep talking!” Narriss said loudly. The large woman startled and clasped her chest with her hand. Narriss realised her face had gone tense. She tried to relax and calm herself but… “Speak demon and it shall appear.” the shopkeep said, glaring toward Narriss with the sadistically sly grin usually only seen in Wolf-kin. Then again, what did she expect from the people who invaded her home? “Demon?! Where?!” Narriss said, bathing in exaggerated, mock fear. This man would not get the best of her. He would give her all the information she needed, or at least point her in the right direction to find it. The woman glanced down at Narriss’ waist, made a disgusted face, and nodded goodbye to the shopkeep. Perhaps she’d noticed Narriss’ tail, or worse, her lack of diaper-bulge. Either way, she and the shopkeep were now alone. “It’s considered rude ‘round here to listen in on other people’s conversations y’know.” he said, almost growling with tension. Yet they consider us animals!? Narriss mused to herself. This place was horrible. Backwards. “It’s also rude to refuse paying customers.” she said to the shopkeep. Hopefully the promise of money would quell his anger somewhat. However, it seemed that she’d underestimated this man’s discontent. “I don’t want your grubby hands anywhere near me!” he said passionately, as if Plassener’s were known for being particularly dirty. Yet, they weren’t the ones who carried their waste against their backsides. Narriss raised her spotless hands in response. “My hands are clean as clouds,” she said, “And luckily for you I just need information. So I won’t be parting with any of my money today, sir.” The man eyed her for a moment. He seemed placated, if only slightly. “I don’t know ‘nuffin!” he said, crossing his arms. “Just go someplace else!” Narriss was starting to get annoyed now. This man was being deliberately stubborn, and for what? Maybe it was time for a retreat. If she couldn’t get the information she needed, at least she could get the diaper for Lady Meliora. “I just need to know where I can find a changing station.” there was a brief moment of silence. The shopkeeper's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised why he was asked such a question by the likes of … well, her. “Is that some kind of joke? Why in the name of Liefyr does a shaggy like you want to know that?” he shook his head in disbelief. Narriss’ ears went hot. She hadn’t been called that word in a very long time. This slimy son of a bitch was clearly too stuck in his little mud-hovel to say anything productive to her. She was done here. Letting out a deep breath, Narriss turned and walked away. She’d find the godsdamned place by herself. Behind, she heard the man chuckle quietly. Willing herself not to turn and punch him, Narriss focused on her mission. However, the shopkeep made the mistake of thinking he had gained something in that little argument, and shouted across the market. “Yeah! Go back to your shithole in Plassen you hairy bitch!” That does it. Narriss felt a storm surge inside of her, and a sudden cramp in her gut. If the bastard wanted to be closed minded, so be it. He deserved everything he was about to get. She walked back toward the merchant, who went suddenly pale. Clearly he was expecting her to walk away. Maybe she should have. Oh well, Narriss thought, hopefully he’ll remember this. “Fine. You win.” Narriss said calmly, which only served to unease the man further. “If you won’t take a moment out of your day to help me find somewhere, then I guess I have no choice but to do my business here.” and she hiked up her dress. The man looked horrified, and stepped back into the recesses of his book-stall-cave. Narriss simply smiled, and bent over the wooden counter of the stall, so her bare rear was nearly touching the wooden countertop. Her tail swished behind her, brushing against the cool air. Then, grunting a little, she began to push, slowly releasing pressure in her bowel. To her slight embarrassment, she farted a few times, but that was nothing compared to what was coming. As she pushed, she felt a rather large ball of poop force it’s way out of her, sliding through, pinching off, and then slapping down onto the counter. She let out a few more farts, feeling much better now that her gut was empty. Her mess balled beneath her, forming a rather satisfying warm, and stinking, pile. Narriss looked to the merchant again, grinning slyly. His face had gone red, and he looked as if he was leaning against the wall for support. Narriss glanced about quickly, and noticed that there was a small crowd watching the incident. Although most Little onlookers looked horrified, a small group to the left sniggered at the merchant. A huddle of Plasseners also gathered nearby, smirking to themselves. “Thank you very much for your help,” Narriss said as innocently as she could muster, “I was beginning to get a little desperate.” and as a final act of spite, she pulled her dress down, and fell back to sit in her mess. It squashed beneath her, moulding to the shape of her rear. She wriggled about for a moment, before pulling herself up with a very visible brown stain on the seat of her dress. After all, why shouldn’t she wear it proudly? She made her way into the crowd, toward some of the watching Plasseners. They grinned knowingly at her as she approached. Finally, people who seemed willing to talk. She’d finally find out what was up with this place, which would be a solid start. How she was going to find diapers for Lady Meliora from these Plassen folk she did not know, but one step at a time. There was a chance the Lady wouldn’t even need a diaper if she managed to get the right information. As she approached the Plasseners, their smiles faded however. Narriss noticed they were looking at something behind her. A cold human hand suddenly gripped her left arm tightly, pressing against the fur. “Miss,” a woman’s voice, hard and harsh, said from behind, “Please, come with us.” Narriss tried to turn without jerking her arm too much. The woman was a guard, wearing the white-red colours of Iedar, but Narriss could tell she was a little. The guard’s hair was tied in pig-tails, and she could swear the woman had a diaper-bulge. “No! You don’t understand! I have important business here, under the command of Lady Meliora Van De Natte, of Plassenar!” and she tugged her arm away, but the guard who was holding her back simply grappled the other one. “I’m sure you are Miss, but we can’t just let people go poo poo on private property!” Narriss went quiet. Maybe she should have thought this through more. Damn! “Okay, okay, I’ll go with you. Let’s just make this quick.” “You’re not going to run if I let you go?” the guard said, and Narriss felt her tail droop instinctively. She wasn’t sure she could if she tried. “There are guards everywhere,” Narriss said, “I doubt I would get very far.” This seemed to placate the guard and she let go. Two more joined her and the whole retinue marched Narriss away. About two hours later, judging by the church bells, Narriss sat in her small cell, alone. The guards had brought her back to a modest gaol on the outskirts of Waygar. Almost immediately upon arrival, the guards had insisted on diapering her. Her hairs pricked up harshly even thinking about it. Despite how wrong it felt to have this bulky padding around her waist, she’d gone along with it in the interest of saving as much time as possible. It wasn’t all that embarrassing really, not after having dropped a mess in public. But it just felt so strange. How did people defecate in this? She felt a nervous twitch in her bladder at the thought. Afterwards, Narriss was able to present the guards with a royal seal that Meliora had given her, and someone, a while ago now, had gone to fetch anyone who could get her out of here. So, Narriss sat in her cell, left leg bouncing up and down erratically, albeit hampered slightly by the diaper now under her dress. The summit would start any moment, and she was here! She tried not to dwell on that too much. What have I gotten myself into? She thought glumly. What would the consequences be? Lady Meliora said that she had to behave with courtesy--well what if she needed to relieve herself during the meeting? Would the negotiations fall apart? Back in Plassenar, you’d just ... go. I suppose you’d do the same here, too. Just in a diaper instead of on your seat. Something about that felt dishonest and wrong. Pulling up her dress slightly, Narriss looked down at the diaper. She kind of needed to pee again, though the thought of doing it in that thing was mortifying. It surrounded her waist completely, locking away the freedom to go where you needed, trapping the mess next to you. Again, the thought of using the thing made her slightly disgusted. Although, she had to admit, it did feel quite nice when dry. Like a pillow, almost. Hesitantly, more out of curiosity than anything else, she poked the fluffy fabric. The diaper was so thick she could barely feel her finger beneath the padding. She poked it again -- THUD. The door to the gaol burst open, and a vaguely familiar woman stepped onto the stone-tiled flooring--that woman Lady Meliora was talking to at the feast. Her antlers sparkled gently with the fresh mist outside, and her nose twitched slightly. Her dress was almost as regal as her strides towards Narriss’ cell. “Well, well, well,” she said, moving towards the iron bars that held Narriss there. “We have gotten ourselves into a bit of a mess haven’t we?” “My lady!” Narriss said quickly, curtseying. Halfway through her bow, she realised that lifting her dress to curtsey would reveal her diaper. She felt her cheeks grow warm with blush as she saw a wry smile on the lady’s face. “Delved into the local culture have we?” “I-I-” Narriss couldn’t think of anything to say. To be caught like this! Embarrassment flushed through her. “It’s alright, young one.” the woman said, “I am Lady Halene Goudenel, I was sent by Lady Van De Natte.” her smile shifted, wry became warm. Narriss felt her embarrassment subside, albeit only slightly. “Guard!” she said loudly, and there was a clatter from the back-room as a onesie-clad guard stumbled in. “Please let my friend here out of her cell. I shall be taking her with me!” “I’m afraid I’ll need to see some--” before the guard could talk, Lady Halene thrust a piece of paper towards them--a writ of some sort. “Huet!” the guard shouted, and a second guard, presumably called Huet, emerged from the back. Unlike the first, he was not dressed in a onesie, rather somewhat normal clothing. He took the paper of the first guard, scanned it briefly and nodded. And just like that, Narriss was free. “Hurry my dear,” Halene said as Huet guard unlocked the door. Finally, Narriss went down to remove the cloth diaper from around her waist. Oddly, Halene stopped her. “No time, we must be on our way. The summit has already begun.” a jolt of fear burst through Narriss like lightning. She had let Meliora down. She’d let her country down. The two of them left the gaol. “Is the Lady okay?” Narriss asked. She and Halene moved quickly through the market outdoors, people from all directions rushing past. It was tricky walking with the thick padding between Narriss’ legs, so she mostly waddled along as best as she could. “She is fine Narriss. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner. She is glad to hear you are okay, but wasn’t best pleased when she found out what happened.” Narriss went quiet. So much for being discreet. Halene clearly noticed her contemplative silence. “It’s all right. She’s just a little stressed at the moment. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Narriss could only nod. “At least tell me,” Narriss eventually said, “Is the summit going well?” Meliora The summit had been going horribly. The representative of Luin hadn’t been budging on any of his points and, as expected, his implied acceptance of the treaty had been less than concrete. His sense of grandeur and power was seemingly only bolstered by the large pavilion under which they all sat, each politician perched like vultures along a large stone table. They were all dressed rather conservatively, not a single sign of the usual regalia that accompanied them-- bright colours, pacifiers, that sort of stuff. Only the occasional rustle of a diaper indicated that they were, in point of fact, from Luin. Surrounding Meliora were a team of Lords and experts from Plassenar. In particular, her Aide–Lord Griet–sat to her left, and Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf-lord, to her right. They were the pain with which she would colour her canvas. Meliora had sent her Wizard’s apprentice, Narriss, away to gather information to use against the Plasseners here, but she unfortunately had failed to make any sort of appearance. Then, after finding out that the idiot girl had been imprisoned, Meliora was forced to send Halene away to get her out, and even she had been taking her time. It had been over an hour now. Dammit, why was Meliora always clearing up other people’s messes! The talks had stalled since, but she forged ahead, at the behest of her king. She’d resorted to placing valuable resources up for trade, and what’s worse, there was also another, more personal, problem that was preventing her from concentrating fully on the remainder of this damned meeting. Meliora wiggled slightly in her seat, holding her pee in as best she could. That damned girl hadn’t brought back a diaper either. She’d just about managed to relieve herself elsewhere, along with her retinue during the brief recess they’d had, but hadn’t found the opportunity to go since. Just as she suspected, this visible weakness had opened them up to political attack. You’ll just have to hold it, she thought to herself, though rather more aggressively than she had meant to. Although she suspected that this meeting would be over shortly. “Lady Meliora!” The man opposite her–Lord Vauque De La Seule Couche, the cousin of the Queen of Luin–said with immense exasperation, “Surely you cannot be suggesting that we just remove our troops from Ile De Sommeil! You’d simply move troops in to displace them!” The man was, at this particular summit at least, not the bane of Meliora’s existence. That award belonged to the other Lords and Ladies gathered around the great stone table. Despite Vauque’s relative willingness to negotiate, she was still having troubles however. Unlike the other lords in Plassenar, she did not know the Luin people and their secrets. She clenched her fists, and her thighs, under the table in an increasingly vain attempt at keeping some semblance of composure. But before Meliora could respond, Lord Aert spoke–his pointed ears perked up, “Lord Vauque. We have all seen far too much bloodshed in the past few years to send troops into a foreign land where they will have no means of escape. No one wants a war.” Yes! Meliora may have ‘locked horns’, so to speak, back in Plassenar, but here that sharp mind could be put to good use. She knew bringing him was a good idea. Meliora nodded, and continued, “Ile De Sommeil, much like this beautiful island here,” and Meliora tore her hands away from holding herself to gesture to the landscape around them, “Could flourish with trade between our two great nations. You have our word, my word, any troops we do send will integrate into a mixed set of guards for the island with your own troops. In return we ask only that your troops do the same, and we shall be open to trading in coal, iron and gold from our prosperous mines down in Modemeer.” This seemed to give Vauque pause for thought. There was a moment of quiet while he stared past Meliora, interrupted only by the gentle grunts of another lord beside him, who was obviously filling his diaper. Oh how she wished she could let herself go like that! As much as Meliora tried to distract herself with thoughts of the meeting, the fresh earthen-stink that floated through the air only served to remind her of her own relief, or lack thereof. She pressed both of her hands into her lap as subtly as she could, but caught Lord Aert in the right corner of her vision, glancing concernedly at her, his tail stiff, and hairs raised. Clearly he was in need of relief as well. Please hurry, she thought. Vauque looked down, smiling gently, and Meliora’s heart leapt. He sighed, and, to every Plassen Lord’s surprise, slowly began nodding. She met his eyes eagerly. “I am open to these terms,” he said. Yes! “But we still have things to work out. I must talk with my superiors, and you with yours.” Meliora smiled broadly. This had worked out well. Not as well as she had been hoping for, but well enough. It was a solid start. “I couldn’t agree more, though I think you’ll find the King very enthusiastic about this deal!” Meliora said. Though Vauque didn’t quite have the reaction she expected -- he almost chuckled to himself. “I must admit, I do find myself wanting to trust you, Lady Meliora. However, I also find that my trust is a little more cautious for your King, who seems more content making deals with sugar-merchants, than running your kingdom himself.” Vauque said. Meliora’s smile vanished. Perhaps she should have tried to contain her shock, but her need to pee was taking up that space inside of her instead. “How did -- how did you find out about that?” she said. Vauque opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a messenger boy waddled up behind him, and whispered something in his ear. His eyes went wide momentarily, and he gestured for the boy to leave before standing up. The lords and ladies from his side of the table all followed suit. Meliora still sat, half out of shock, and half because she wasn’t sure she could stand without wetting herself. The other members of her side glanced expectantly. “Lady Meliora,” Vauque said sympathetically, “I would stand if I were you.” Meliora frowned. What was this? Still confused, Meliora stood as carefully as she could. It was just in time too, because as she tried to scrape together what little composure she had left, two young men, each dressed in colourful blue uniforms, strode onto the pavilion with trumpets in hand. Meliora was beginning to shake, both mentally and physically. All of this was so confusing. Was it planned by Lord Vauque in an attempt to intimidate? Maybe he knows about my bladder situation, she thought tensley, and he’s stalling for time. Her cheeks began to burn red as she felt all the tables’ eyes on her. Meliora attempted to move them to her side, feigning composure. She was attracting glances from all around now. Hopefully this wouldn’t last long whatever it was, though Meliora had to admit, she had a bad feeling about all this. The trumpeters raised their instruments and rumbled through a regal tune. Then a third figure, this one wearing a bright, frilly yellow dress, short enough that it barely came halfway over their diaper, stood at the entrance to the pavilion as the trumpeters left. “Ladies and gentlemen,” they said to the row of Plasseners, some of whom were beginning to squirm a little, “Boys and girls,” and they looked to the opposite side of the table -- to Vauque and the other officials from Luin and Dullen, “And representatives of the land, I duly present her Royal Highness Queen Amée De La Seule Couche of Luin, Keeper of the Seven Swords, Guardian of the First Crib, and Herald of the Winds of Puer.” Shit. After that mouthful, and a minor moment of private panic on Meliora’s behalf, the announcer bowed and backed up, before parting to the left of the entry. And then, the Queen of Luin herself entered. Flanked by two guards in the same uniform as the trumpeters, a woman in her mid twenties flowed into the room. And flowed was the right word to describe the sight. Although she seemed to radiate a pompous regality in that massively oversized frilly tutu, and despite her waddle at the blatantly thick diaper that coddled her (in fact, it looked thicker than almost any other Meliora had seen), she was still as graceful and gentle as the wind itself, as if she had been born a particularly beautiful peacock. For a brief, blissful moment, Meliora forgot about her need to urinate, and followed the table’s awed bowing and curtseying. This may have been a mistake. As soon as she attempted to lower herself into a curtsey, she felt her bladder pang, and released the tight grip of her urine in surprise. A tiny dribble spat out, and warmly twisted down her leg, before she managed to regain control. As a small wooden throne was brought up behind her, the Queen nodded regally and they all sat. It was slightly easier to maintain control like this, and upon sitting, her hands were able to snap back to hold her crotch. She began to wiggle slightly in her seat. To her left, she could swear she heard a small fart from Lord Griet, Meliora’s aide. However, no one else seemed to be paying attention to that, their energy instead focused on the Queen. “So, it seems I am in the graces of some of the finest political minds in the land!” she said, puffing up her dress slightly as she brought her hands down in excitement. “Yes your majesty!” Vauque said. “I believe you already know our people,” and Vauque gestured to the two representatives to his left, “but we also have Lady Moren Wystwith, of Dullen,” a lady to Vauque’s immediate right nodded in recognition, “along with Lady Meliora Van De Natte, representing Plassenar,” and Meliora felt all eyes cast upon her as she tried to keep herself together. She stopped wriggling for a moment to nod towards Her Majesty. Gods it felt awful to stop! “A pleasure to meet you both!” the young Queen said. As soon as she began chattering again, Meliora resumed her little … what was it those Dullener’s in the north called it? Ah yes, ‘potty dance’, hiding behind the safety of the table. The Queen smiled at everyone before continuing, “Please apologize for my intrusion, I was in the area and was merely curious as to how these sorts of proceedings functioned.” The Queen was newly appointed, her father apparently having died in battle, during the most recent Pacification War. But Meliora didn’t have much time to dwell on that, she had to force herself to remember to smile and nod when Vauque began to recount the meeting. As she pressed her hands into her lap as hard as she could, she noticed her dress growing slightly damp. Was she leaking already?! Gods, not now! Maybe I should look down to assess the damage… No. That might give everything away. She was becoming really desperate now, holding herself as best she could. She felt the urine pressing against her bladder, begging for release. Meliora glanced towards the others on her side of the table. Some of them, too, were wriggling slightly in discomfort. Compared to them, the opposite side were eerily calm. Lord Vauque, whether oblivious or not, took his time informing the Queen, who sucked serenely on a pink pacifier a servant had provided her. To make matters worse, just as Vauque’s conversation was coming to an end, Halene and Apprentice Narriss decided to return. Lady Halene was visibly stunned to see the Queen, and slowed her rush to a walk, whilst the young apprentice moved to the seating outside of the pavilion, with the lesser officials, and looking rather ashamed. And was she waddling? The Queen broke off her conversation with Vauque, removed her pacifier, and looked to Halene perturbedly. “And you are?” she asked with an air of surprise. “Lady Halene Goudenel, Your Majesty.” Halene said with a curtsey. Although the Queen seemed a little mollified by Halene’s obedience to procedure, she placed her pacifier on the table instead of resuming. “Well, welcome Lady Goudenel. Do we have any more surprises awaiting us?” She looked at everyone around the table. Meliora was tempted to say that they might have a rather golden surprise if they continued much longer, but thought the better of it. Damn, she wasn’t thinking straight now. She felt another quick burst of pee release, dampening her dress. It was fortunate she was wearing dark colours, because she felt a large wet patch under her rear. “So, Lady Halene, why do you join us only now?” “Oh, I was just taking a quick break from the summit, your majesty.” Halene said. “Yes, I’m sure it must be wearing on you, what with your odd lack of diapers. Though I do hope you remain in my presence for the remainder. This all sounds quite thrilling.” It seemed almost like a threat. A few of the Luin delegates chuckled slightly, though Meliora noticed Vauque’s silent refusal to join in. The Queen only seemed bolstered by the reaction she’d gotten however. “In fact, I’m surprised that none of you have wet yourselves yet! What with all the rumors about you people and your barbarity.” the Queen directed that one straight at Halene, and it was quite clear what she was intimating. A general chuckle from the opposite side of the table didn’t help either, though once again Vauque just reddend, looking embarrassed. A furious blush enveloped Halene, and Meliora saw her fists clenching. “Please excuse my potty mouth. I find the differences in our cultures fascinating, but clearly the more concerning aspects are exaggerated. You seem to be controlling yourselves finely today my lords and ladies. One could only imagine if …” Meliora stopped listening to the queen. The bursts of urine were becoming more and more frequent now. Please let this be over. Please let this be over! All this pee-talk was taking its toll. The warm, damp patch on her rear was growing slowly, trickling into the chair beneath, and Meliora realised that she had fully begun to wet herself. All she could do now was delay the release as much as possible. Meliora saw Vauque glance at her, and blissfully, he cleared his throat and spoke, “Well, I believe that’s been quite enough for today. We have a busy time ahead of us, let us make the most of it!” and he raised his wine glass. Everyone around the table followed suit, though thank the gods no one drank, and they scooted their chairs back. Almost there! Her backside felt wet with warm urine, and as they stood, she felt the cold air get to it. If she could only hold it for a few more moments, just a few more … But the movement was too much. Meliora’s bladder spasmed, and she momentarily let go. It was impossible to hold again. There was little else she could do but gasp, as Meliora felt a sudden stream of warm urine burst out from between her thighs. An utterly blissful wave of relief flooded through her, rippling up her back, as she let her pee go. She sighed heavily, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. Maybe she could have gotten away with a small wet patch on her dark clothing, but this was simply too much. She felt her pee hit the front of her dress, soaking a glistening warmth into it, and putting on a show for the whole table. As her stream slowed, she opened her eyes and blushed as gobsmacked expressions from the other side greeted her. There was no uproar, no shouting. The Queen simply watched in petrified horror, before eventually striding around to Lord Vauque. She whispered something utterly inaudible in his ear. Those around him seemed to have heard however, and sly grins crept onto their faces.Vauque himself only frowned, almost angrily, holding his tongue. She turned and faced Meliora directly. “It seems that I was wrong.” she said quietly before twisting around, her frilly tutu following her moments after in a spiral, and striding away from the Pavillion. The remaining delegates, Meliora included, were left stunned. She looked to Vauque for answers. All he offered was a look of sympathetic resignation. “I’m sorry.” he said. And with that, his side of the table all left the pavilion as well, leaving a very wet Meliora, and her allies, alone. END OF EPISODE 2

This story is written for the 3rd kasarberang non-contest. That Escalated Quickly By Bo Tox Chapter 1 Well, I suppose I have no one to blame but myself but the damned genie didn’t have to be so vindictive about it. Let my mistakes be a warning: Don’t make the three wishes. It never ends well. I was minding my own business while metal detecting at the beach. That day I found a fake high-end watch, a wedding ring and lots of trash. I was loading my gear into my backpack. The metal detector was still on and I sat it down near the dunes. It went off with the sound of something strong. The spot it indicated was above the high tide line so whatever was in the sand wasn’t new unless someone purposefully buried it. The sand was easy to dig in and I found a handle. Once pulled, the handle was attached to a pot. When I had it fully out of the ground, it resembled an old teapot. The teapot was a dull metal, maybe brass. It certainly didn’t look like it had a lot of value but if it were old enough, it might bring something. I tossed it in with the rest of my booty and finished preparing to leave. My diaper was pretty wet so it was definitely time to go. About the diaper, it is for convenience. If I’m making good progress while prospecting, I don’t want to stop to find a toilet. The facilities at the beach are often poorly maintained and borderline disgusting. With everything loaded in the car, it was good to get back into an air-conditioned car. Twenty minutes later, the car was in the garage and the day’s treasure was in the laundry room sink, getting rinsed off. While that stuff soaked, it was time to get something to eat, rehydrate and change my diaper. Full disclosure, diapers aren’t just for convenience. I might actually like to wear them. There’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of people do it. The microwave was spinning a pizza and half a bottle of water sat on the table while I went to get into a dry diaper. The microwave beeped on the way back to the kitchen. A fresh diaper is always a nice feeling. After eating and drinking enough to feel full, I went to the sink to start inspecting my finds a little more thoroughly. The teapot was rinsed off and put aside to dry. The other items needed another rinse. I towel-dried the teapot. It looked better cleaned up. A little shine might make it nice. A little metal polish and some elbow grease would do wonders. I squirted the polish into the cloth and started rubbing the teapot. I wasn’t paying much attention. When I looked at the lamp, it was brilliant with smoke coming out of the spout. The lights flickered a few times and the smoke grew thicker. I had no idea what was going on so I sat the teapot on the counter and backed away. A booming voice announced, “WHO HAS FREED ME?” I was shaking and might have even peed my diaper a little bit but answered, “I did, James.” “I am the genie of the lamp,” said the voice as the smoke coalesced into a head and flowed down to arms and a torso. The lower part remained a smoky haze. “Lamp? I thought this was a teapot,” I said. The arms of the genie spread and she smiled, “I was imprisoned in the lamp for 100 years. You have freed me and I will grant you three wishes and only three wishes. Choose wisely, James.” I scratched my ear and looked at the genie, “Three wishes. I’ll have to think about that a minute.” The genie looked at me with a wry smile, “Don’t take too long.”

Hi folks! Thanks so much for clicking into this tale. A little bit about me: I'm Lyra, one of the Starlings associated with the Sophie & Pudding community. You might have seen me (or heard me be mentioned) on The Usual Bet. Maybe you've read my previous work, Luna, which is about a new AI on the market designed to fulfill her users' every need. I'm thrilled to finally be releasing my second novel. Comments are, of course, extremely welcome. It's always a thrill for me to be able to give something back to a community that has given me so much already. Synopsis: Mugwort is a Junior Tempter with his first Patient. Luckily for him, his kindly uncle Scumtack has all sorts of advice on the ways demons can use the seven sins to ensnare a human soul! Will Mugwort be able to start his career on the right foot? ~~~~~~~ Preface I can’t tell you how I got these letters. No, I didn’t mean “won’t”. I know what I said. Or wrote. Whatever. The point is, I can’t. As in: “I cannot”. As in: it is literally impossible. Obviously, everything here sounds like total bullshit. I don’t blame you. I don’t think I’d believe me either, especially not with such a flimsy excuse as to why I can’t show you any proof. But what the hell (the irony!), you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, Wayne Gretzky, Michael Scott, so here you go. I thought about saving the originals, but I don’t want to encourage anyone else to go down the same idiotic path that I have. The last thing Earth needs is a bunch of humans with demons as penpals, as if global warming and late-stage capitalism weren’t enough existential crises for us to deal with. If you’re like me (though I hope you’re not), you might have questions when you’re done. Do I expect you all to believe these are real letters? Like, actual goddamned ink on actual goddamned parchment, like it’s Lord of the Rings or something? Why didn’t I go find the people in these letters and try to save them? Am I really sure I’m not crazy? I mean, Occam’s razor, right? All good questions. And yet all completely beside the point. Don’t quibble over crumbs when there’s cake at stake. Especially when it comes to Hell—don’t dig too deep, or else Hell will dig its claws right back into you. I know some of you are going to ignore my advice and go looking anyway. I can’t stop you. But I hope, even if you ignore everything else, you at least take this last word of warning to heart: demons are liars. Remember that, no matter what they might tell you. Lyra Starling ~~~~~~~ Letter I My dear Mugwort, How overjoyed I was to find that you’ve followed my footsteps and joined the Foreign Office! To make Tempter at your young age—I’ve always known that you’d go far; you’ve such a great set of horns on that head of yours. I must warn you: don’t expect any nepotism—you’ll have to work your way down the ranks just as I did. Though, of course, asking your uncle for advice is always a good idea, and hardly something anyone can take umbrage to. You tell me you’re feeling anxiety over your first Patient. Good! Keep it in mind, and never fall into complacency. Although I’ve guided dozens of Patients into the imperturbable arms of Our Father Below, I still treat each new case as if it were my first. The most important decision you’ll have to make is your angle of approach. Each mortal has their own idiosyncrasies, and to lump them all together as one would be sheer folly. Though humans are made of nothing more than dust and mud, even ones crafted by the same mother and father might differ wildly in temperament and outlook. Although one can attempt to teach this in school, only fieldwork can show you how to delicately tip the weight of the scales away from The Enemy and towards Our Father Below. It is imperative that you close the trap delicately, so that they find themselves ensnared without even realizing that there was a struggle for their soul in the first place, at least until it is too late to do anything about it. Based on the background you’ve given me about the Patient—her being marked as gifted in elementary school, failing to live up to those aspirations in college, and now in her young adulthood with a sense of malaise, of feeling like she was meant for greater things—I suspect the avenue of Greed will prove itself fruitful. You should be able to play upon that injured sense of pride, that low-grade simmering resentment against the world, and through that offer shortcuts that lead her closer and closer to Our Father Below. Naturally, I have an illustrative example. Do not try and emulate my actions precisely with your Patient; rather, try to keep in mind that sense of careful prodding and digging to find the lever you need to move the world, as Archimedes so famously put it. Your affectionate uncle, Scumtack ~~~~~~~ Greed: Ava Stone Ava didn’t know it at the time, but the day she met Charlotte Kingsley would turn out to be the most pivotal day in her entire life. Her judgment, like that of Paris of Troy, would be the nexus point that spawned a boundless stream of bad decisions. The two women lived on the same floor in a college dorm, Ava crammed into a tiny triple, Charlotte in a luxurious single. On the first week of school, the hall decided to throw a “get to know each other” party, with everyone agreeing to prop open their dorm room doors and mingle. Ava found herself desperately trying to get out of a boring conversation about cryptocurrency with a man who smelled exactly as bad as his choice of topic when she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a set of unfamiliar green eyes paired with a twinkling smile. “Excuse me,” the stranger said, “I need my friend for something.” Ava felt soft hands grab her by the elbow. Each sky-blue fingernail was immaculately manicured, gently glowing under the hallway light. Without waiting for a response, the stranger led Ava away as she mutely followed. When the two of them had stepped out of earshot, Ava turned back over her shoulder. The man had apparently quickly found another victim to talk at. “You looked like you needed help,” said the stranger. Her words had the lightest drawl, which Ava had never heard anywhere other than on television and found that she quite enjoyed hearing in person. “Thanks, I did,” said Ava, who inexplicably felt nervous. She preemptively wiped her palms against her shirt. “The name’s Charlotte,” said the woman. Ava could see how the symmetry of Charlotte’s face was broken only by a small mole near the dimple where she smiled. She opened her mouth to respond to find that it had gone dry. “A—Ava,” she croaked. Her tongue felt as if it loomed too largely in her mouth, moving about ungainly and causing her to fumble at her words. “Well, A—Ava,” said Charlotte, holding up a brown shopping bag, which gently clinked as she moved it, “how’d you like to join me in my room?” Her room? They’d just met! Charlotte caught the flash of surprise on Ava’s face and winked. “Don’t worry,” she added, “I have a no finance bros policy.” “Well, if that’s the case…” laughed Ava nervously as she let Charlotte lead her down the hall. Charlotte still hadn’t let go of her arm. Part of Ava wished that she never would. Ava heard the laughter of conversation spill out from Charlotte’s room as it mingled with the sound of speakers playing music in the hall. It was a lightly discordant mess, with no attempt to coordinate the music across all the rooms. As Ava got her first look inside Charlotte’s dorm, she felt as if she’d stepped into a closet and ended up in Narnia. Despite the fact that the room only had a single occupant, it was somehow still larger than Ava’s triple. A gaggle of eerily well-groomed teenagers who looked like their parents had vacation homes in the Hamptons mingled amongst themselves. Ava self-consciously picked at a fray that had developed in her jeans. She was the only person in the room whose clothing didn’t intentionally have holes in them. Luckily it turned out that, in real life, greasers and Socs didn’t have to hate each other on sight. Charlotte introduced Ava to her coterie and pulled out the illicit bottles of wine she’d smuggled in. Afterwards, Charlotte fluttered off to different groups and let Ava quietly mingle, just happy to be peripherally involved in Charlotte’s orbit as she heard people use “summer” as a verb for the first time in her life. Pivotal days, of course, have pivotal moments, and Ava’s was coming up. Charlotte had somehow ended up standing on her wooden chair, an orator equal to Cicero with an audience that was just as enraptured. “Fuck capitalism,” she said, the red disposable cup of Two-Buck Chuck in her hand threatening to spill over as she punctuated each beat with a wild gesticulation. “I’m like goddamn Robin Hood. Steal from the rich. Give to the poor.” The crowd shouted a chorus of affirmations. Ava could see Rolexes—or what she thought maybe were Rolexes, she certainly had never seen one before—gleam in the lights as people lifted their arms and whooped and hollered. She joined in anyway, feeling like a sheep in wolf’s clothing. “That’s why I only lift from chain stores,” Charlotte continued. More meat for the ravenous crowd. “No mom-and-pop shops. It’s about the message.” She wobbled as she stepped off the chair and rejoined the mortals on their plane. “I didn’t know you shoplifted,” said Ava to Charlotte after she’d refilled her cup. “You don’t seem like the type.” Charlotte’s emerald eyes gleamed with amusement. “You an expert or something?” she asked playfully. Ava quickly shook her head no. “No? Have you at least stolen anything?” Charlotte followed. “Never,” said Ava. Charlotte’s expression fell a little—or maybe Ava just imagined it did. But either way, she quickly followed up with the line that would forever divide her life in twain: “Maybe you could show me sometime?” “Of course!” Charlotte beamed brightly, her teeth flashing like the sun’s rays cresting over a hill. Ava felt a glow in her chest, like her heart was lit with a farm flame, one that spread through her body and imbued her with a strange energy. She knew she’d do anything to see that smile again. ~~~ Ironically, it was precisely her initial success which ultimately doomed her. One crisp September afternoon, Ava and Charlotte piled into Charlotte’s shiny leased Lexus and drove to a nearby mall for a crash course in shoplifting. Ava chatted up a bored clerk at a stationary supply store while Charlotte stole some pencils as a warm-up, then they reversed their roles so Ava could steal a pair of gloves from a clothing outlet. Getting some alone time with Charlotte was already a pulse-pounding prospect, and the thrill of illicit activity made each moment sing with clarity. There was no way she was going to call it off after such a meager haul, not when there was more time she could spend impressing Charlotte. Ava’s beginner’s luck, however, could only hold out so long. Ava was spotted slipping some lipstick into her purse by a customer with a vigilante streak. Amid the clamor, Ava, who was in her heart a foolish romantic, distracted the employees long enough so that Charlotte could escape. This choice felt brave and daring, the kind of thing that high school Ava never would have done, but that new improved college Ava might do all the time. Eventually, when the adrenaline faded away, reality crashed the party. There was no way she’d be able to pay the fine, let alone the restitution on top. Ava was left with the grim hope that maybe at least she’d scored some points with Charlotte. With her mind on autopilot, Ava made her out out of the mall’s security office out into the world. The sky was irritatingly bright and blue, completely unaware of the swirling tempest of emotion roiling in Ava’s head. She stumbled her way to a nearby park in a daze and sat down on a park bench. Fuck me, Ava thought. She closed her eyes and puffed her cheeks out, sighing in frustration before turning her attention to how she’d dig herself out of this predicament. She could tell her parents, which was an option in the same way that someone could choose to walk on their hands for the rest of their life. You could technically do it, but why? Ava’s mind swirled, her thoughts looping back in on themselves like ouroboroses. Don’t tell Mom and Dad. But I can't afford the fines. Or a lawyer. Who can I borrow money from? I don’t have credit. Tell Mom and Dad. There goes their vacation fund. I’ll know I did this to them. Forever. Mom’ll love trotting this out whenever I see her. The two sides waged war in her mind, arguments arrayed like soldiers in phalanxes, though whatever victory would be inevitably Pyrrhic in nature. Maybe telling her parents wouldn’t be so bad. It really wasn’t realistic to try to run and hide. It would suck, and she wouldn’t get out unscathed, but together, they could figure something out. Maybe she wouldn’t even get suspended from school if she wrapped this up fast enough. Her mind set, she opened her eyes and saw to her surprise a stranger standing way too close to her. Although Ava didn’t really know anything about suits, his looked expensive. She could see her own reflection on the sunglasses he was wearing, saw herself startle at the sudden invasion of personal space. “Hello,” he said, and his voice sounded like the gentle caress of velvet had wrapped itself around those two syllables. “Mind if I sit here?” Ava blinked. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. “Uh…sure? I mean, I was leaving…” She made to stand up, but the stranger continued. “Oh no, Miss Stone, I meant with you. I’d like to chat.” She froze up, ice crystallizing in her veins. “How do you know my name?” she asked. Her fingers tightened against the lip of the wooden bench. “I have my ways,” said the man unhelpfully. “Rest assured, I do not mean you any harm. On the contrary, I’m hoping to help you out.” There was an awkward pause as that statement hung in the air. The man quietly loomed over Ava as her mind furiously raced through possibilities. This guy was clearly not normal. But it couldn’t hurt just to talk, right? They were out in public, with eyewitnesses. It was almost certainly going to be harmless. At least she could find out what he wanted with her. “…okay,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m listening.” “I know you’re in some trouble,” he said. “And I’d like to help.” “Trouble?” Ava asked warily. “What do you mean by that?” The shoplifting thing had just happened, so the only way he’d know about it is if he had been there. She and Charlotte had been on the lookout for bystanders though, and she definitely would have remembered if this guy had been skulking around the Sephora. “I know you have a fine that you have no hope of paying on your own,” started the stranger. Okay, so maybe he was a security officer or mall staff? “And I know you’re thinking about crawling to your parents on your hands and knees,” he concluded. A jolt of fear leapt through Ava’s body. “How the fuck do you know all that?” she asked as adrenaline coursed through her. “I have my ways,” he said, and lowered his sunglasses to look at Ava directly. His irises were the orange of a crackling fire, and his pupils were black vertical slits, slashes of empty void amid a blazing heat. Ava had the odd feeling that if she looked into those eyes long enough, she’d fall through the cracks of the universe. “What the fuck,” said Ava, which was an understatement. “I do apologize for startling you,” said the demon as he put his sunglasses back. He sounded as if he meant it too. “Who are you?” asked Ava. The stranger smiled. “Just someone who can offer you a trade.” There was absolutely no way to tell behind the mirror sheen of his sunglasses, but Ava was confident he’d winked at the end of that sentence. “…okay?” The situation was so odd that it almost became normal. Ava couldn’t properly process what was happening, so she decided she may as well proceed as if this was a perfectly mundane thing to happen. “I’m offering a mutually beneficial exchange,” he said. “I’ll give you two thousand dollars, enough to cover your fine. In cash, too.” A hand slithered inside a coat pocket and pulled out a thin stack of crisp hundred dollar bills. Ava scoffed. “For what? You want my soul or something?” For some reason, the demon found this uproariously funny. He pulled out a blood red handkerchief from a pant pocket and dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Your soul? That immaterial manifestation of your heart? For something as paltry as money? Come now, Miss Stone, that would hardly be a fair deal.” Ava weakly chuckled at her own naïveté. “Then what do you want?” she asked, relieved. “I’d like for you to sleep with a pacifier every night this week,” said the demon, stuffing his handkerchief back into his pocket. “…what?” Ava said, after a pause. She must have misheard. The request was so incongruous. “A pacifier,” he said. “I’d like you to sleep with one for a week.” The hand that wasn’t holding the money dug into a jacket pocket and pulled out a pink pacifier. It sat there in the palm of his hand, absuredly large. It would have dwarfed an actual baby’s mouth. “Why would you want that?” asked Ava, dumbfounded. “I’m afraid for you, the what is more important than the why,” said the stranger. “The only question you should be asking is whether you believe the boon is worth the price.” Ava eyed the bills hungrily. The solution to her problems was so close she could reach out and snatch it. Her heart hammered at her chest, but she tore her eyes away from the money and looked at the stranger’s face, which was sitting in a composed state of neutrality. She absentmindedly bounced a rhythm on her thigh with the palm of her hand, deep in thought. This demon, or whatever he was, was clearly insane. But was what he was asking for bad? Sleeping with a pacifier was strange to be sure, but what was there to lose? It didn’t hurt anyone else. Plus, if it meant her current predicament could be wrapped up without needing to involve anyone else…In a way, it would be foolish not to accept. Ava thought about how Charlotte might be impressed at how casually Ava would shrug off her fine, and that was the last thing she needed to tip her over the edge. “Deal,” said Ava. “Do I need to sign a contract or something?” “I have no worries about you holding up your end of the bargain,” said the man with a smile. “A simple handshake shall suffice.” As Ava clasped his hand, the demon’s grip exuded a charismatic charm, drawing Ava in with a magnetic force of will. When all was said and done, the demon simply handed Ava the stack of bills and the pacifier. “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Stone,” he said, smiling genially. “If you should require my services in the future, you have but to come back here.” Ava expected him to disappear in a flash of lightning or something, but he simply mundanely turned and walked away, leaving her to quickly stuff the contraband into her purse. Ava quickly made her way to a nearby ATM so she could cash the money. She half-expected that the deposit would be rejected, that it had all been an elaborate practical joke, but the machine cooly accepted her bills and credited her account balance. Just like that, she was two thousand dollars richer. As Ava walked back to her room with the crisp night air biting into her exposed skin, she thought about what she’d agreed to. He’d asked her to sleep with a pacifier for a week. There was no way she was going to sleep with one in her mouth—if one of her roommates saw that, it would be the end of her nascent social life. But maybe if she just had it next to her in bed, safely tucked away, then she could technically fulfill the promise with no risk of social suicide. That could work. Ava let herself grin. Her dorm room, luckily, was empty when she got back. Ava shrugged her purse off of her shoulders, dropping it onto the desk with a thud. She quickly palmed the pacifier inside and climbed up to her top bunk, the ladder quietly creaking. Ava flopped facedown onto her blue sheets without even crawling inside, exhausted from the day. She stashed the pacifier under her pillow and closed her eyes, fully expecting not to open them until morning. Ava found though, that despite the tiredness in her bones, that she kept tossing and turning. She was normally a quick sleeper—she honestly didn’t mind sharing a room with two people, they almost never kept her up—but right now rest was eluding her. Her thoughts weren’t even racing. It was as if her brain was just a idling engine, quietly humming with activity, but one that she couldn’t figure out how to shut off. She rubbed her eyes and rolled over, putting a pillow over her head to block out the dim light of the phone chargers in the room. There was no way she had to actually sleep with the pacifier in her mouth, was there? The thought was ludicrous. But as Ava yawned, feeling as if her energy had left her body along with her breath, it didn’t seem that out of the question. She felt like butter scraped over too much bread. It was worth a shot. She had class in the morning. Feeling silly, she rooted for the pacifier, grabbing it and sticking the bulb in her mouth. She nibbled a bit on the silicone, feeling how it gave as she bit and sprung back as her jaw relaxed. There’s no way that this will work, she thought, right before she drifted off. ~~~ Ava made it almost a month before reaching out to her mysterious benefactor. She’d managed to mostly put the incident behind her and count herself lucky, letting her deal with a demon fade into the background as the the grind of regular life consumed her attention. There were tests to study for and a girl to spend time with. It was too bad that Charlotte’s birthday was in November. “Hey so like, for my birthday I was thinking of doing a lil’ weekend in Vail?” Charlotte twirled a tress of hair with her index finger absentmindedly. “My parents said that their cabin was free so we can ski all weekend.” The two of them were in the café that Ava worked at part time, pretending to study over steaming mugs of coffee. Ava didn’t know what a Vail was, but she did know that skiing sounded expensive. It was like lacrosse or polo, sports that nobody in Ava’s life had ever done until she’d met Charlotte. “I don’t know how to ski,” she laughed nervously. “I’ll teach you!” The light in Charlotte’s green eyes danced with excitement. Ava pursed her lips in thought. She could miss a weekend shift. And it might be fun to try something new. “Well then, I’m in,” said Ava, grinning. “Awesome!” Charlotte squealed with joy, which Ava normally found grating on other women but which on Charlotte only reminded Ava of her zest for life. “I’ll book everyone’s tickets so we can sit together on the plane. Venmo me back whenever.” The record that was Ava’s life scratched. Charlotte hadn’t said anything about needing to fly there. But it was too late to back out now. “Great,” Ava smiled weakly. Ava absolutely did not have a spare couple hundred dollars at hand. She thought about picking up extra shifts, or maybe even a second job, but her schoolwork was already beginning to suffer. Suddenly, the deal she’d made at the park bench came to mind. Could she really go seek him out? Until now, she could truthfully say that she hadn’t gone out looking for demons. They’d come to her. If she did this, she’d be culpable. But that first request had been so innocent. Maybe they’d all be like that. And worst case, she could always turn him down. Indeed, it would be foolish not to at least see if he could help. As Charlotte approached the park bench, she could see that someone was already sitting on it. As she got closer, his details resolved into the familiar silhouette of her benefactor. “Hello, Miss Stone,” he said, nodding his head. “Please, take a seat.” This time, she sat. “I need some money,” she said, skipping right to the point. “Straight to business,” chided the demon. He dug in his pocket, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. With a few flicks, he got the fire started and puffed. “Can you help me or not?” pressed Ava. The demon blew out a cloud of wispy smoke. The smell reminded her of ancient tomes and spiced cider. “I can,” sighed the stranger. “You are seeking funds for a weekend trip?” Ava nodded impatiently. “I can offer you enough to go, and some spending money to boot.” “And the catch?” Ava stared daggers into the demon’s face, hoping to catch a glimpse of ulterior motive, but his unnerving sunglasses made him impossible to read. “Another small favor,” he said. He took deep drag and exhaled. “Juice instead of soda with your meals for two weeks.” It was twice the length, but much easier to hide. This time the calculus was easy. “Deal,” said Ava, and shook his hand for the second time. ~~~ The third time that Ava met the demon, the whole endeavor had gained the comfortability of routine, like well-worn slippers waiting at the end of a workday. The same well-worn bench in the same well-manicured park. Much like the trees, steadfastly evergreen, the demon’s appearance was constant. Ava exhaled as she sat down, her breath condensing into a mist of fog. The demon, who had already lit his cigar, blew out his own smoke from his lungs, and the two vapors swirled and mingled with each other before evaporating out of sight. “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Stone,” said the stranger amiably. Ava watched as three excited dogs on leashes walked a hapless woman. “I hope you’ve been well,” said Ava. Strangely enough, she almost meant it. Even with his weird stipulations, he had been helping her out. It was natural human instinct to want to reciprocate in kind. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “My my, such manners this time. What a good girl you must have been.” Ava rankled at the remark but let it go for now. Get what she wanted first, then she could worry about incidentals. “Could you get me enough money to get a new laptop?” she asked. “What’s wrong with your current one?” asked the demon. Ava blinked. He hadn’t asked for her reasoning the last two deals. “Well…” Ava thought about how isolated she felt when group projects came up and she was the only one without a MacBook. How her computer always whirred whenever it did anything remotely intensive like it was a helicopter trying to take off. How nice it would be to just have something that worked in her life for once. How nice it would be for Charlotte to ooh and aah at Ava’s new toy. “I just want an upgrade,” Ava finished, eliding her entire thought process. The demon unhurriedly scratched at his chin in thought. It was like watching a gargoyle come to life, his motions were so slow and considerate. “One month of sleeping with a pacifier,” he finally said. “One month?” Ava repeated, flabbergasted. “The first time it was only a week!” “The first time,” the demon evenly said, “you were in a crisis.” Ava frowned. “Wouldn’t that normally be when you charge the most? What’s your deal here?” The demon gently shook his head and sighed. “I am not a loan shark, Miss Stone,” he said firmly. “Perhaps in your world, people prey on the weak so that the strong may get stronger. But I do not operate like that. You need this laptop less, and therefore my price is greater.” Ava considered her options. A month was a long time, long enough that she would genuinely run into the risk of one of her roommates finding out. And he was right, she didn’t need this laptop in the same way she’d needed to pay her fine. But in its own twisted kind of way, the demon’s logic made sense. Ava knew that being poor was more expensive than being rich. Charlotte’s fancy laptop cost a fortune, but she never had to scramble for money when a part failed, or deal with the unavoidable slowness tax that plagued Ava every time she used it. Charlotte, for all her virtues, never quite understood this part of Ava. She couldn’t understand why Ava didn’t just buy the thing that worked the first time. She thought Ava was shooting herself in the foot by being cheap by choice, when really it was by necessity. The fact that this demon understood what Ava’s classmates didn’t was sobering. He was being fair, more fair than humans themselves would have been. “Deal,” she said, and she shook his hand for the third time. ~~~ By the time the end of the semester was in sight, dealing with the demon had become almost like another chore, like picking up her part of the room or working out, as had the baby things. She’d cut swear words from her vocabulary for two weeks. She’d worn a diaper for the first time in fifteen years, just to bed. She’d even wet it too, on another occasion. And now, her latest deal: wearing a diaper for twenty-four hours in exchange for extra spending money for a winter vacation trip with Charlotte and her crew. It was going to be a piece of cake. It was dead week. She didn’t have classes to go to. Her only job was going to be studying for finals. And so, one morning, Ava shuffled off to a private bathroom and taped herself into a diaper, each step taken with the steady hand of experience. Lay a towel on the floor, with the unfolded diaper on top. Shimmy off her pants and panties. Sit down, feeling how the soft fluff contrasted with the ragged fuzziness of the towel. Pull the front up between her legs. Slide a finger around the leg bands to ensure a snug fit. Peel the tapes off carefully, the loudest and most dangerous part. Press each one in firmly. Ava stood and looked in the mirror as she adjusted the tapes, feeling the thickness of the padding rubbing against her inner thighs. When she was done, she finished changing into her outfit for the day. She’d learned that her normal slim-fitting pants were a bad idea. Even when she tried wearing sweatpants, the diaper puffed up around her waist in a way that panties very much didn’t. She’d eventually found something that worked. For today, it was a simple white blouse with a black bow tied around the collar and a high-waisted gray skirt. Comfortable and discreet, perfect for studying. She put her towel back on the rack, sat at her desk, and opened her notebooks. Ava’s studies were interrupted mid-morning by a building urge in her bladder. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to wet herself though, though she couldn’t do it sitting down. After checking to make sure she was alone, she stood up and relaxed, feeling the warmth spread out from between her legs, quiet tinkling sounds covered by a sigh of relief. When she was done, she reached under her skirt and patted around the leg bands. The wet diaper squished into her skin as she felt her thighs for any signs of wetness. She hadn’t taped herself properly the first time she’d wet herself, and she’d had to do an emergency load of laundry in the middle of the night. This time though, her thighs were blessedly dry. Suddenly, Ava heard a knock on the door, followed by the creak of it opening. She quickly removed her hands and smoothed her skirt down, her heart skipping a beat with surprise. Charlotte poked her head in the room, her gently curled tawny tresses gently bouncing. “Hey!” she said. “I know this is real sponty of me, but I thought maybe we could have a picnic? Just the two of us?” She raised her arm up, showing Ava a wicker picnic basket. “I’ve got a whole charcuterie set and everything.” Her eyes shimmered like a mossy glen kissed by the morning light. Ava froze. Why did Charlotte have to stop by today of all days? Her first instinct was to demur. But why? Hadn’t she been doing everything for Charlotte? And a picnic—that was romantic. Turning her down would send the wrong message. It would jeopardize everything she’d worked for all semester. “Sure, I’d love to,” said Ava, anticipation and anxiety swirling together into a confusing cocktail of emotion. As the two of them walked, Ava couldn’t stop thinking about the diaper between her legs. Each crinkle seemed to crackle in the air like gunshots. There was no way Charlotte didn’t know, but somehow she was oblivious. Ava ran through a mental catalogue of increasingly flimsy excuses. Jolly Ranchers in her pockets. A plastic bag that had blown around them. Charlotte was just imagining things. Against all odds, Charlotte had somehow chosen the same exact park that Ava met her benefactor at. A pit of dread nestled itself into Ava’s stomach. Thankfully, as Charlotte led Ava to a sunny spot on a grass knoll, Ava could see that the park bench down the pedestrian path was blissfully empty. Charlotte unfurled a checkered blanket with a flourish, laying it on the lush grass before setting her basket on top and kicking her sandals off. Ava followed suit, plopping down with a soft squish. Charlotte pulled out the picnic spread. As they enjoyed their lunch, a light breeze swirled around the two of them like a mischievous pixie. “I know I’ve said this before,” Charlotte said between bites of bread, “but thanks for having my back when we got caught.” “Of course,” said Ava. “That was months ago though. Why’re you bringing this up now?” “Just practicing gratitude,” said Charlotte, winking beguilingly. Ava laughed and reached for the blueberry jam. The tips of her fingers brushed against Charlotte’s, sending crackles of electricity up Ava’s arm. She jerked her arm back, then looked at Charlotte, embarrassed. “I don’t bite,” Charlotte said with a smirk. “Unless you want me to.” She took her hand and slowly cupped Ava’s chin. “Uh…” Ava could feel her breathing quicken. The world fell away, leaving the two of them perched on a knife’s edge between worlds of possibility. “I think,” Charlotte breathed, “that you do want me to.” She closed her eyes and leaned in, giving Ava a kiss. Ava could taste the traces of jam on Charlotte’s lips, a perfect complement to Ava’s own. “I do,” said Ava, and received another kiss in response, Charlotte’s hair gently tickling Ava’s cheek. Ava could smell faint traces of Charlotte’s strawberry shampoo and feel the soft tickle of Charlotte’s breath on her skin. With a surge of movement, Charlotte wrapped an arm around Ava’s back and leaned forward, until they ended up with Ava’s back on the blanket and Charlotte on top. Charlotte shifted a leg, straddling Ava with her knees on the blanket, and gently kissed Ava on the neck. Ava let out a small whimper of pleasure as Charlotte moved her kisses further and further down Ava’s neck. Charlotte moved one hand under Ava’s skirt, brushing against her inner thighs. Ava suddenly froze, her heart skipping a beat as her she acutely remembered the infantile garment she was wearing under her skirt. “We’re in public,” Ava said, reaching for Charlotte’s arm to pull it away. She tried sitting up, but Charlotte just added more pressure to the hand on Ava’s chest. “No one’s looking,” Charlotte purred, gently tapping her hand up Ava's leg before poking the plastic leg band and pausing. “What…?” Charlotte said, almost to herself. That was decidedly not what panties felt like. Ava’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She tried prying Charlotte’s hand away, but she swatted Ava’s arm away and patted Ava’s crotch. Ava felt the hand on the front of her diaper, the sensation muted by the bulky material wrapped around her hips. The soggy padding pressed into her skin as she was wracked with another wave of humiliation. Charlotte experimentally pressed her fingers into Ava’s diaper a few more times, as if she were checking to see if jello had set. Ava tried to wiggle her way out, but she had no leverage. Charlotte made a puzzled frown before suddenly shifting her weight onto her knees and flipping Ava’s skirt up. “What are you doing?” Ava cried out. She tried to flip her skirt back down, but Charlotte grabbed her wrists and pushed them into the picnic blanket. The cheerful outlines of teddy bears and baby bottles were visible to anyone who turned their head to look, the diaper a white badge of shame forever making Ava a Hester Prynne. Ava turned her head from side to side, feeling like a thousand eyes had manifested and turned their undivided attention towards her, but for the most part people were quietly doing their own thing. Ava saw someone point at her and turn to their partner before giggling. Her paranoia refused to allow for any charitable explanation. “What are you wearing?” Charlotte asked, bewildered. She hadn't been completely sure before she’d made visual contact—the idea that Ava would be wearing a diaper hadn’t even been a remote possibility in her mind. “Please,” Ava said, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was on a knife’s edge, ready to break down sobbing, which would not have helped her case at all. “I can explain,” she said, hoping that maybe her mind would catch up and lay out a reasonable explanation. “Do you need diapers or something? Oh my God, I had no idea,” said Charlotte, her own cheeks reddening with sympathetic embarrassment. “No! I don’t!” blurted out Ava, scrambling to save face. Charlotte furrowed her brow as her mind shifted tracks. “So this is just for kicks? Like some kind of sex thing?” She shifted her weight off of Ava and sat on the blanket. It was clear that Ava had made a tactical error. “Char,” Ava said, pulling her skirt back over her diaper, “please. Don’t freak out.” “It’s not that,” said Charlotte, sounding conflicted. “It’s just really unexpected.” She bit her lip. “Like, what, was it fun for it to be a secret or something?” “I didn’t want to tell you,” pled Ava. “You should have,” said Charlotte. “You should have gotten my consent. I’m not a prude. I don’t care what you’re into. But you should have told me.” As Charlotte quietly packed the picnic back up and left, Ava could do nothing but sit, arms around her knees as she cried. After a few minutes, when her tears had slowed and her pity party started winding down, a shadow suddenly covered her. She looked up to see the demon, face perfectly neutral, as if the events that had transpired were like static on a television, meaning nothing to him. “I messed up,” Ava mumbled into her arms. “Perhaps,” said the demon sympathetically. “But you might be interested to know that my assistance can extend beyond the purely monetary. That girl doesn’t have to slip out of your reach.” The demon had led Ava into this. He wanted her in diapers for some reason. It was inevitable that eventually someone would find out. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along. Ava had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn’t taken his deals, she wouldn’t be in this situation at all. But that was true on multiple levels. Without the money to cover the fine, she might not have even been able to keep going to college. She might have been expelled. He’d never forced her to do anything. Her hand always shook his willingly, with no attached puppet strings. She’d been the architect of her own doom, and now the only thing she could do was pray in the cathedral she’d made. Ava had traded so much already to catch Charlotte’s eye. Why stop now? As long as she kept her wits about her, she could take more than she gave. Just because this deal had backfired didn’t mean that every deal would. She could be more careful. She could do it right. Ava took a deep breath in, then breathed it out with a sigh. “Tell me the terms,” she said, and the demon cracked the barest of smiles.

Part 1 Freddie Stevens was sitting at his computer and working on his last game project. It was a large fantasy adventure, and he was about to perform the very first playtests. The game was almost ready to play, and he planned to provide the alpha version to his friends. “It’s time to send e-mails to Tony and Marianne,” he told to himself and opened the e-mail program. Tony and Marianne were his friends and they often helped him. All of sudden, he noticed an unknown wi-fi network in the list. A wi-fi network wasn’t anything extraordinaire but Freddie lived in a small house about five miles away from the nearest village and he used his private access point with a satellite modem. There were no more access points around. Somebody could wander through the forest but there was no mobile signal there. The satellite modem was the only connection to the outer world. Freddie liked the life far from the civilization. He could work on his projects undisturbed, and his loyal companions were rabbits and does that came close to his house. The house itself was well equipped and mostly independent on the external power. The unknown wi-fi network wasn’t the only strange phenomenon. About a month ago, Freddie walked through the forest. He arrived at a small clearing and noticed a strange fog. He was taken aback; it was a sunny day. Suddenly, he spotted a doe appearing out of the fog. The next day he returned to the same clearing and noticed another doe disappearing in the fog. He was tempted to enter the fog, but he didn’t have the courage to do it. Freddie was staring at the unknown wi-fi network, and he decided to succumb to the temptation and connect. The network was public and unprotected. To his utter shock, the e-mail program disconnected instantly. Freddie didn’t panic and tried to open Google. Google worked but Freddie was not able to find any familiar places or persons. Was he looking at a different world? After browsing several sites, he felt like in a daydream or fairy-tale. A knocking on the door awakened Freddie from his dreams. Who could arrive at his place? He wasn’t aware of any visit and does didn’t knock on the door. He stood up and walked over to the door. When he opened it, he stared at the visitor in utter surprise. “Good afternoon, sir,” a small girl at about ten was standing in front of the door. She was short and slender with long dark hair arranged in a ponytail and deep brown eyes. She was wearing clothes resembling a school uniform – a white blouse, a knee length skirt and jacket with a checkered pattern, thick tights and low-heeled shoes. Freddie also noticed a rather big backpack on her back. “Hey, little girl, how did you get here? Did you get lost? Where are your parents? Are you all alone here?” “My name is Ann, and I probably passed the Border. Where am I?” “W … what? What border? My name is Freddie and the next village is Chatsson. I live in a small house and I’m alone here.” “Don’t you know about the Border? We learned about it and about another strange world behind it.” “Strange? I live here and I don’t find it strange,” Freddie shrugged, “In either case, come in. We can talk inside.” Ann nodded and walked in. Freddie showed her the way and they stopped in his small living room. “Sit down. Would you like to have something to drink or eat?” “Yeah, please. Can I have a cup of juice?” Ann put the backpack off her back and sat down. “Of course, Ann,” Freddie left for the kitchen and returned with a cup of juice, “have your drink and tell me more about yourself. Why are you walking through the forest? Can you walk all alone? Where are your parents.” “I should explain you, sir …” “Call me Freddie.” “Okay, Freddie. I am looking for a Caretaker and I don’t know my parents.” “W … what? Where do you live then? Who takes care of you?” “Freddie, I live in the Children Centre now, but I turned ten two days ago and now I should find a Caretaker. Children live in the Centers until they turn ten.” “What happens then?” “They have to find a Caretaker that will take care until their adulthood. Otherwise, they are assigned to public caretakers. To be honest, I wouldn’t like to get assigned. Some of my friends have been assigned and they complained about the treatment by the public caretakers.” Freddie kept listening and he couldn’t believe his ears. What world was the little girl talking about? However, he remembered the sites he had found shortly ago. “Okay, I need some time to cope with everything you’ve told me. You are looking for a caretaker. How did you cross the border? Do you believe to find a caretaker here?” “Why not. Would you like to become my caretaker?” “Wait, Ann. It is not that simple. We don’t know caretakers in our world. It would be an adoption and a judge had to assign you as my adoptive daughter.” “It is simple. Come with me and you become my caretaker in our world. We can return and live here if you want to.” “Okay, but I don’t have any experience with children, Ann. I’m a bachelor.” Freddie watched Ann and tried to imagine himself as a parent; he didn’t like the word Caretaker. “Don’t worry, Freddie. I won’t trouble you at all and I’ll help you with all chores. I’ve learned it at the Children Centre.” “What if somebody comes to visit? How do I explain your presence? Somebody could call the social services.” Ann kept silent. She wasn’t aware of the laws on the other side. It was simple to assign an adult as her caretaker in her world. Nevertheless, she believed that it could be solved somehow. “Would you like to try it at least? You wouldn’t be alone here though.” “I don’t know, Ann ….” “Please,” Ann made puppy eyes at Freddie. “Okay then; you convinced me even if I’m not able to imagine a life with a child. However, it is getting late now. You shouldn’t go to the forest in the darkness. Stay here and we will go to your world tomorrow. I’ll make a dinner and find some bedsheets for you. Won’t you get missing?” “I don’t think so. Children like me can look for their caretakers for several days even if I don’t remember a caretaker from behind the Border.” Ann suddenly kept silent for about a minute, and she turned to Freddie then. “Freddie, I need a diaper change. I’ve just peed myself and the diaper is soaked already.” “A diaper change? Do you need diapers? You are ten though.” “Yeah, I need diapers. Hopefully I’ll get toilet trained at 18 or later.” “Well, that’s another challenge. I’ve never changed diapers. Can’t you change them on your own?” “Sorry, Freddie, I can’t do it. We can learn it when we turn 17. However, it is not difficult, Freddie. I have everything necessary with me,” Ann pointed at the backpack. Freddie sighed quietly. The parent role itself was a challenge and changing diapers made it even harder. He opened the backpack and pulled out several cloth diapers, a package of baby wipes, a spare pair of rubber pants and spare tights. There was a plastic bag and a changing mat inside, too. “Ann, is it enough until tomorrow?” Freddie looked at the diapers. There were six large flat diapers there. “I need two diapers for every change. You will need two of them now, two after dinner and the last two during the night. Can you wash the four diapers after dinner?” “Of course, I can, and the washing machine can dry them as well.” “That’s fine, change me now please. I don’t like the wet feeling,” Ann walked over to a couch and lay down. She removed her shoes and tights and lifted her skirt. The rubber pants were exposed, and Ann spread her legs. “Unbutton the pants,” she asked Freddie. He did it and the urine reek spread across the room. The diapers between her legs were soaked. “Pull the diapers from beneath me, take the baby wipes and wipe my crotch,” Ann continued. Freddie nodded and obeyed her commands. He put two clean diapers beneath her, powdered her, pulled the diapers between her legs and buttoned the rubber pants. Five minutes later Ann was clean and dry. She put on the tights and shoes and jumped down from the couch. “The first caretaker task accomplished,” she grinned, “where is the bathroom? We have to rinse the dirty diapers and put them into a pail.” Ann headed towards the bathroom and Freddie shook his head only. What the hell did he get into?

I just wanted to post this in the critique section, as a way to let people know that I will make my first attempt at writing a story very shortly. The posting below has been cross posted in brian's place form as well as in the critique section. The post below basically speaks for itself, And that is basically what I want to do, is to write a story that is a fantasy of mine that will allow me to be the character that it is being done to or looked after. My first premise would be that there would be several of mine that I have met here, and that they would be a part of the story. I'm not sure how many ladies I would want in the story, but the idea here is that I wanna try to put some of them together, as a part of what I consider to be my fantasy. the post below should be able to tell anyone who is interested what my intentions are, because basically I do not want to violate daily diapers rules or policies with my first story, since breaking rules would be dealt with harshly and immediately. I think the premise is sound, I just want to make sure that people know of my intention, and hopefully writing the story will be fun for me to do. Question: how in the world do you center text in the text box? I'm not sure if I should be using something like FASS post editor to post. I did not see the centering or the right or left align controls in the editor box above So I'm asking that question @Elfy or @DailyDi, have I been missing something Or is it hiding? Comments on the idea are welcome here! I have also cross posted as I said to my private Forum, where are my members of that form can read it as well, but wanted to post it out here so people know of my intention, hopefully you guys will enjoy the story as well as I do writing it. ~Brian~ Good afternoon all! I know that I have stated that I want to write a story that I've been thing about for a long time. to that end, very shortly I shall begin the process of writing that story. the story will be about I dream I've had about an encounter with ladies, where I as the main character end up getting shown what full relaxation means. being stressful in life, there's a lot of things that can bother you when things when things don't go exactly the way you think they should, or when things happen that are out of your control. The story will be that type of a story: Everyone knows me as me as an individual that is a hard worker conscientious always willing to go the extra mile, And sometimes what I do is I overdo it, and I don't take the time to be able to relax to the fullest extent possible, and sometimes what I have to do is I have to take steps to make sure that happens. This story will be around that philosophy. a hard working man that needs a vacation or a hard working man that deserves a well azerd vacation, and ends up getting the Opportunity to not only meet a nice girl, but to end up being invited to her house for a nice dinner and a together. little do I know however, how important this encounter will be. All through my working life I have worked so hard sometimes that I forget that you need to be able to take stock and calm down and just take a look at the world around you and be able to smell the roses. me being a hard worker the premise will be will be that I finally take the time to talk to one of my good friends, who basically offers me the chance of a lifetime to be able to relax and be able to have the time the time to enjoy someone's company and be waited on hand and foot, because they think that would be helpful, and it's also something that they said that they would like to do. When they're finished, I don't have anything to worry about, but little do I know how important this encounter will be in making my dream my dream come true. As I said, this story will be coming shortly. I will also try to make other stories that are similar in in scope to the one that I plan on writing now. each time I write a story, I will post it here first, and then when I believe that it is OK, I will post it out on the completed stories page, unless of course there are more parts to the story, and that will depend on how daily diapers user base and my friends respond to my writing ability. i've always wanted to be in a position where a dream comes true because of an opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime, and this type of a story is the type of story where the characters in the story have a genuine interest in my well being and being able to see that I am a sweet guy, and they want me to be able to not worry about anything. When they're finished, this will be a part of that particular storyline, because the idea here is hardworking men deserve the best, And these ladies want to give it to me. It is my hope that people will think that the story is cool, and that it is some that people will enjoy reading., This will be the first story that I've ever written online So I ask you're indulgence because I'm not sure exactly how this will work, but I have a good feeling about this, and I'll make sure that the people who are part of the story are mentioned appropriately, however I'm not sure how many characters will be a part of the story and that's part of the Logistics. hope fully those who are interested in my idea will read the story and find it interesting and informative, as well as something that will allow to express dreams that I have been having that make me feel good inside. it's always good to have good friends, and good thoughts, in this world is 1 hell of a mess, so it's always good to have some place that is a fall back position. A story like this would be that situation because I would really like to have something like what happens in my story actually happened to me in real life but we all know that real life dictates different things, and most and most of the stories you write are based on fantasy, And I guess this fantasy will be something that I would love to have happened. If the story goes well, you will probably see me do another story, but I will have to figure out how far to go with each one. hopefully I get plenty of feedback so I know exactly what's going on, but I'll let you know when that happens. Brian

Hi everyone! I am back from my writing slumbers and have a story that I had a dream about the other day that had somehow turned into 100+ pages. Please forgive me for not writing actively on my other stories... I have a bad habit of writing for stories and then pausing as I actively write for another. Hopefully this story doesn't put me in the writer's time out corner🪑😇 This is definitely a 'slow burn' story that sets the stage for the rest of the book and the payout may just be worth it, you'll just have to find out for yourself. *cue the evil laughter behind computer monitor* I hope you enjoy my story of warlocks, creatures and diapers as much as I have writing it and I love hearing theories and comments along the way in posting. Enjoy!💖 The Synopsis No One Asked For[but I wrote it anyways]: Wren Smith gets accepted into a 4 year international college exchange program that she had always dreamed of her whole human existence called Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures located in the country of Centaurus. In her journey to a completely different world of warlocks, werewolves and vampires, she meets Nate Seastone who has unusual relationship goals, a psychopathic ex and a dark past. Things take a sinister twist as she navigates being a human in a mostly all creature and warlock school as she unlocks secrets to sinister things she didn't ask to discover between the school's history and her kind. Warnings: Dark nature content[not sure how to word that], bullying and detailed sexual scenes[smut] Does contain in later chapters: Diapers, CGL relationship, ABDL, BDSM, spanking Book of Warlocks, Creatures & Diapers : Vol I PRELUDE It’s incredulous to think that for a good few centuries, the rest of the world didn’t know the United Lands existed. The continent of Centureon, comprised of the countries of Centaurus and Rune, were stumbled upon in 1492 by Christopher Columbus, yet never spoken about in human history books because a historical warlock known as Theadore Stonewall II found him, erased his memory and sent him, his crew and his boat to North America instead. It wasn’t until the next century when people began migrating from Europe to America that Centureon lost its anonymity the warlocks and creatures wanted to keep as long as possible, yet it was inevitable that a country with millions of creatures and beautiful lands would be found eventually. From the dawn of time, warlocks, witches and creatures had always been mistreated, murdered and misunderstood that the old warlocks and creatures knew if word got out to the human race, their existence may be compromised. Little did they know, it was bound to happen that the human race would find them and try to make them close to extinct. Warlocks and creatures already lived amongst the human race all over the world, but the countries of Centureon knew about the horror stories and spread of misinformation about their kind that made the human race fear them. It was better, to the Centaurus and Rune countries, to hide for as long as they could and keep the peace within their own lands. As time went on and the United Nations and other countries found out about Rune and Centaurus, both countries were kept top secret in all countries. The United Nations wanted to hide the creatures that inhabited the lands as they thought revealing them would create mass panic and threaten the human race as it was. Warlocks and creatures didn’t want to fight, they asked for peace multiple times and the United Nations was ignorant to the possibility of creatures, witches and warlocks living peacefully among humans. Yet… these creatures already lived among them, much to the human race’s fears of inability to cohabitate that had little to no evidence to support. As the humans found out creatures were living amongst them, many altered, misinformed and over dramatized stories in newspapers released about witches, werewolves, vampire killings and abductions. These fictionally based stories spread like wildfire around the United States of America in the 1600’s and the United Nations came together and agreed that if these newfound ‘creatures’ survived any further they could threaten the human race’s very existence. Widespread panic circulated around to other countries and the whole world began fearing creatures that supposedly could be humans next door neighbors one day. The decisions were based on ignorance, fears and prejudice as the United Nations decided to invade Centaurus and Rune in 1702, historically termed in Centureon the Human Invasions of 1702, without warning, terrorizing the continent with ships docking and pillaging of its lands. At this time, the human race was much larger than all the warlocks and creatures combined. The only thing that made sense for most creatures was too either migrate or protect the land from the sudden killing, raping and torment of its innocent civilians. Many of Centaurus and Rune’s inhabitants decided to flee the country. This caused the Great Migration of Creatures in 1702 where millions of witches, warlocks and creatures as they fled the countries to live in hiding all over the world as Rune was put close to extinction within a few years. Although they had warlocks, witches and creatures, Centaurus and Rune were both peaceful lands that practiced magic to protect and help others, not to hurt as they were attempting to show the human race they should not be feared. There were always dark blood warlocks and witches who were of the evil kind, but few and far between that when armies of human troops came in with muskets, rifles, canons and unknown weapons to Centaurus and Rune, the native creatures to the lands had never seen such weapons, let alone know what they did until they were wounded or killed. Due to Centaurus’s large warlock and witch demographics, they were able to protect most of Centaurus in the 1700’s. Centaurus lost a tenth of their population and lands but quickly reclaimed their lands. Rune, however, could not protect itself as the population of warlocks was low, the magical creatures who were there were a majority of peacemakers or healers. When they attempted to ask for peace, it was quickly denied to their dismay as whole towns and villages were shocked by the merciless invaders. Villages and towns across Rune were pillaged, raped and burned down over a stretch of a few weeks time. Innocent civilians and their children were burned on stakes or hanged and those spared from the mass murdering of Rune’s population were kidnapped and put into labor camps. The rest of it’s demographics were harmless creatures without magical abilities that were slaughtered without reason. A good two-thirds of Rune’s creatures were killed from the invasion that silently spread across the country. More troops of the British and United States came over to Rune and terrorized the creatures on it’s soil along with the few witches and warlocks that remained after many years of fighting. Parts of Rune were colonized in the 1710’s by the British until the United Lands armies grew in the larger country of Centaurus and reclaimed the land with their most powerful warlocks, witches and creatures protecting Rune. After years of hearing of the pillaging, terrorizing and mass murders of Rune with two-thirds of the population either migrating or being slain, Centaurus decided to stop protecting without harming the invaders and go on the defensive to push the invaders out of their Lands. The first World War, that was unknown to most of the human race, started and ended in 1713 when the United Lands decide to fight back from Rune reclaiming what was left of its lands. In Centaurus history books, there was a distinct shift in the war and who was winning when the most powerful Centaurus and Rune warlocks and witches came together to create the Magistrate’s Army. They fought back in large numbers and reclaimed what was theirs within months of combat with the human race. Rumors got out about a group of witches and warlocks comprised of both white and dark blood magic descent that were stronger than any other type of magical beings coming together to end the suffering of the United Lands. It was unheard of for white and dark blood witches and warlocks to work together, yet this special circumstance created an alliance that warlocks and witches all over the continent talked about for centuries. The UN troops began retreating as they realized quickly that Magistrate Army was much stronger than any weapon possessed in the 1700’s. The armies couldn’t even kill a witch or warlock without putting them on the stake and burning them. News got back to the United Nations as the Magistrate Army became tremendously powerful and the US army along with the British armies were sent back home in small quantities of survivors with gruesome stories of watching warlocks, witches and creatures mercilessly terrorizing soldiers, bending swords and stopping bullets, pikes and cannon balls mid-air. The horror stories of witches and warlocks performing full moon rituals on soldiers were spread rampant along with other horrors following the war with the warlocks and creatures. The human race learning that although small in numbers, the United Lands showed they were a force to not be meddled with ever again. In 1730’s, years after the war ended, Magistrate Gildroy III the Great made a peace treaty with the United Nations and the United Lands. The United Lands agreed that migration to or from Centaurus or Rune was forbidden. Both groups agreed to keep Centaurus and Rune separated from the human race. Gildroy was able to keep sailors and migrators away from the country with his fleet of mermen and army of warlocks who protected the United Lands. The United Nations and surrounding countries were able to hide creatures for a few years from the human race, stating that newspapers of werewolf, vampires and witches were made-up stories. Although both the United Lands and United Nations tried to hide Centaurus and Rune, it was not possible anymore to keep hidden a whole country that spanned half the Atlantic ocean as a secret to the human race. After many sightings of ‘aliens’, lost ships in the Bermuda Triangle, witch trials, books written about witches and wizards, newspaper articles, police cases, tales of vampires or werewolves and other incidences in the early 1800’s the countries of Rune and Centaurus were rediscovered by the human race in newspapers around the world. The world became a huge panic where allover people were afraid from the misinformation about vampires, witches, mermen, werewolves and other creatures. The general population did not want anything to do with these creatures or to even visit Centureon in the 1800’s. The creatures that had migrated to the US and other countries who did decide to reveal themselves were segregated, taken into slavery, locked up in prisons, hung, experimented on, abducted or murdered. The whole response to any creature or warlock was of pure anger and hatred that caused a huge rift between the human race and creatures from Rune and Centaurus. Up until 1853, immigration to and from Centureon was banned for creatures and humans. During this time, millions of creatures and warlocks that had already migrated found home to many parts of North America, Asia, South America and Europe as they lived in hiding. From those in hiding, it was discovered in the mid-1800’s that so many creatures and warlocks had carried children with humans. Half-humans were at high risk as not only did the human race fear or hate them, but so did creatures. Migration was finally allowed after so many hate crimes were made against creatures or half-humans and the United States and other countries found there weren’t only a few, but millions of creatures already living amongst them that wanted to visit back home or move back to Centaurus or Rune. Little did these countries know, these creatures inhabited the world for thousands of years amongst the human race. This movement of human race acceptance was called the Creature Awakening where humans finally acknowledged the creature race and began to start accepting creatures into their cultures. Although there was still a long road ahead in progression of views and stifling racism, this was a huge push forward in peace between races. By the early 1900’s after migration to and from the United Lands was allowed in most countries, World War 1 happened and the United Nations grew a relationship with the United Lands, enlisting the Magistrate’s Army into the war. In every war following, the United Nations and United Lands worked together and slowly built trust between the two once opposing forces. Many years passed and from millions of mixings of creatures, warlocks and humans, hatred between the human race and creatures or warlocks had calmed down quite a bit, yet the racism never went away fully as it was still taught in most continents. By the end of the 1900s and early 2000’s, many programs were instated to mix the cultures of humans, creatures and warlocks. Although things have calmed down between the races, there is still a large mountain to climb in racism between creatures and humans. As time has gone on, the pendulum of hatred has swung more for the hatred of the human race, as they had almost made Rune extinct of it’s creatures and endangered trolls, pegasai, dwarfs and it’s rare magical creatures with one invasion in the 1700’s that had almost wiped out the creatures of Rune’s existence entirely. Chapter 1: Warlocks, Creatures and Humans, Oh My! Wren’s moss green eyes looked out the airplane window to the beautiful hills, valleys and mountains of Loch Valley, Centaurus of the United Lands. Her curious eyes grazed over the distant hills and valleys where she could see a flight of witches and warlocks gliding above the trees together in a pack. Wren smiled in awe and wonder, always wishing since a little girl that she could fly like a witch. She always, admittedly, envied her neighbor down the street who was half witch and had flying lessons with her dad. She ended up in a tree her first flight but Wren would have paid anyone in the world to be just like her neighbor, even if she’d ended up in a tree or with a broken arm. She frowned and looked back down to her history book of Centaurus, knowing that would never be her fate. All she ever wished growing up was to be some sort of creature, whether that had been a mermaid, witch, dwarf, gollum, fairy, vampire or even a troll. Wren just wanted to be something that wasn’t a human. Gross. That was probably the worst race to be in this day and age. As she read her history book, she couldn’t imagine how it was like as a creature to feel such fear of being kidnapped or killed for being something that’s not human. There are hundred of documented real life horror stories in America, where Wren was born, about witch trials, murders of full werewolf or vampire families, abductions and experiments on creatures. That’s only one country and the stories across the world are equally as volatile and despicable. Luckily, those things didn’t happen anymore, at least not often. There’s always some Ted Bundy who has a weird thing for creatures or witches unfortunately. Also, creatures aren’t victims, they’ve killed humans too. However, the millions of creatures and warlocks slaughtered for pure racism of creatures will always supersede the current day issues. Millions were killed at the hands of the human race in 1702 in genocide by the US and British army human invasions. Millions. Wren was disgusted by that thought alone and that her ancestors could do such things to innocent creatures. To say she hated her ancestors was an understatement at this point after traveling 10 hours on the plane and rereading the dark history of Centaurus and Rune inflicted by the human race. Wren could see why creatures and warlock have been known to be rude to humans. Lucky for Wren Smith, she decided to do an international exchange program for 4 years at Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures. Maybe not so lucky... yet Wren’s deep desires to be close to warlocks and creatures ran so strong she’d put aside everything to be where she felt she belonged. Ever since Wren was a young girl, she knew that Idaho, United States was not where she belonged. It was true as everyone presumed of Idaho: all we have is cornfields and potatoes out there! Wren thought. She absolutely despised everything there and found herself bored 9 times out of 10. The one fun thing was having a neighborhood friend who was part witch. Her name was Jade who Wren went to school with. They eventually blossomed into best friends throughout the years until their friendship abruptly ended when Jade and her parents moved to Glades, Rune when the girls turned 12. Wren remembers crying for almost a month straight when Jade moved and as dramatic as that sounded, losing your best friend was a big deal as a kid. It felt like the end of the world to Wren and she had close to no friends after Jade left. Wren was always the ‘weird girl’ who had a ‘witch friend’ and Wren knew the small-minded classmates would never understand her the way Jade did. The day she moved, Wren remembered writing in her diary, “When I turn 18, I’m moving the HELL out of Idaho and going to Centaurus! Idaho can kiss my ass!!” If you’re wondering, yes Wren did, in fact, write those curse words when she was 12 and luckily her parents never read her diary… or at least she thought they didn’t. “Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” The pilot stated to the passengers and attendants. Wren sighed as she closed her book, stowing it away in her backpack. She looked to her right where a pair of eyes were glancing at Wren and she met them. A part werewolf part human woman's dark brown eyes were looking at her. Wren smiled politely to her as the woman looked forward with a small huff in annoyance. Creatures really hate humans still, huh? She was half human, where does she feel the right to judge! Wren thought to herself and frowned, looking back out the window. It was weird leaving home, the United States. Wren had never left the US, let alone to a country that hates the human race, even more so Americans. Wren didn’t think most countries liked Americans to begin with, let alone human Americans to further complicate things for her. In Centaurus, it’s a known fact humans are more susceptible to hate crimes and harassment. Creatures don’t like humans and humans don’t like creatures. That’s been a known conflict since the beginning of time. Wren knew that just maybe she was the weird human that liked creatures and wanted to be one. The best person Wren ever knew was a witch, after all. She saved Wren’s life once and Wren would never forget that day. When Wren was 11 about to turn 12, the girls were playing on the bridge in the forest near their houses. Wren jumped on the railing of the bridge and stuck her arms out, yelling, “Maybe I can fly like you Jade!” Jade’s dark brown eyes looked concerned as she tugged on the hem of Wren’s blue jeans, “Don’t be stupid, get down from there!” “I just want to be a witch like you one day, Jade. Maybe I can if I try! Don’t you remember that book we read about the girl who didn’t know she was a witch and found out by falling? Maybe that’s me!” Wren said, walking one foot in front of the other on the railing as she swayed, almost falling to the side with the river below. “Wren! Stop it! You’re scaring me and I want to have an ALIVE best friend, not a DEAD best friend!!”Jade said frantically on the bridge below Wren. “I’m going to tell on you if you don’t come down!” She stomped her foot bossily while crossing her arms. Wren smiled, knowing she was the brave, bold but stupid friend in that moment. She stood there, looking behind her one last time before deciding to get down. As she began lowering her foot, Wren’s heel somehow caught the nail of the bridges railing and it caused her balance to falter. She felt myself quickly lose gravity as her whole body fell backwards and Jade screamed, “WREN!!!” Her stomach tickled as she fell through the air. She closed her eyes as she awaited the cold water, yet time stood still and she felt nothing. Did I die? She thought as she opened her eyes and was levitating up and over to where the trees and grass was near the side of the river. She toppled onto the ground and rolled a few times. Wren got up, dusting off the dirt from her sweatshirt as Jade ran over and hugged her. “You dummy!! You almost died!” Jade said as she hugged Wren hard. “Thanks for saving me Jade, I’m so sorry!” Wren said, feeling a few tears go down her face from the stupid thing she almost did. Jade blinked at Wren as she pulled back and shook her head, “I, uh, didn’t do anything Wren.” She said, looking humbly down. Wren winked at her, “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” Jade was quiet about her magic abilities. Her parents didn’t want anyone in their school or neighborhood to know she was a witch. Most creatures kids from Centureon were bullied and that was the main reason her family kept it hidden. It was a secret Wren only knew about because Jade flew into her tree one evening with a yelp and that was the first time Wren and Jade met when her dad ran over to our house and apologized for Jade climbing on Wren’s backyard tree to Wren’s parents. Little did her dad know that Wren was on the second floor bedroom and was looking outside when Jade struck the tree near her bedroom. It looked like it hurt, that was for sure. Wren still didn’t know to this day who hurt worse that day, Jade or the tree. The airplane glided down as Wren gasped in awe at the city below of Aeradon, Dragonstone in Centaurus. She had only read in books about how beautiful the city was with it’s ancient skyscraper castles on hills that overlooked hundreds of villages, rivers and the water to the side of the city. Wren was sad to not see dragons circling the castles like in the childhood books she read as a kid but the beauty was enough to take her breath away. The plane passed over Dragonstone’s other outskirt villages further to the edge of where the cliffs met the sea. She felt the plane hit the ground as Wren smiled, getting giddy with excitement of the new life she had just began. Wren had been waiting for her entire human life to be in Dragonstone, Centaurus, let alone to be accepted to a school in Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures for a 4 year international exchange program. She frowned, remembering how sad her mom got when Wren told her. Her mom didn’t look at her and just went into her parent’s bedroom as Wren’s dad looked at her in the eyes and said, “I thought you were going to Harvard, you got accepted and the chance that people would die to have! I can’t believe you’re throwing away your life like this.” He said in disappointment, shaking his head and sighing. “Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures is a much more prestigious acceptance dad. Only 4 foreign exchange students are accepted per year and they hardly ever accept a full-blood human exchange student!” Wren grumbled, crossing her arms and shaking her head, annoyed with her parents and they’re obvious disappointment. Can’t they let her have one happy moment?! “Dragonstone is a dangerous place for humans, Guinevere. You never listen to me or your mother.” Wren knew it was serious disappointment when her dad said her real name that she hated hearing. Guinevere Smith. Ugh, she hated that name, reasons why she went by Wren. Her classmates growing up couldn’t say her full name so they called her Gwen, which Wren hated even more. That’s when she read a kids book in elementary school with a witch named Wren. That’s when she told her classmates and teachers that she went by Wren. Ever since then, Guinevere had been Wren, although her parents didn’t jump on board with the name change until a few years later. Now they only used her full name when she was in trouble. Her dad stood, not having any more of this conversation. Wren’s parents and her never saw eye to eye on things like this. They always warned her of creatures and magical beings, stating that they were malicious and hated humans. They never knew Wren’s best friend growing up was a witch, and she didn’t think she’d ever tell them. The more they warned me growing up about Centaurus and Rune, the more Wren knew she had to visit it to see herself. For 18 years Wren grew more and more curious, just wanting to prove her parents wrong about creatures and warlocks. Her best friend and her dad were creatures and she would not allow a stigma decide her own opinions. Wren finally was able to stand after ten minutes of waiting for the passengers to file out of the plane. She began to gather her items from the overhead compartment. Unfortunately, Wren was short and small framed that it didn’t help when she reached for her suitcase, struggling to grasp it. She stood on her tippy toes and grunted as she grabbed her suitcase handle and pulled, the momentum of her pull swinging Wren to the left a bit as she accidentally nudged the person directly behind her. The person muttered, “Fucking rude humans.” “Um, sorry.” Wren looked back at the middle aged warlock man behind her who had a satin black cloak and a dark brown disheveled pointed hat on. She blinked back her awe of being near a warlock and walked forward to out of the plane through customs and baggage claim as she tried to shake off the odd exchange. “Guinevere Marie Smith, what’s your purpose here and how long is your stay?” The merman customs officer asked as his light sea blue eyes shifted to Wren’s eyes, studying in curiosity. Wren pulled out her file from her backpack that her international counselor told her to show to customs, “I’m an international exchange student for Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures and will be here for 4 years.” She said a touch boastfully, handing him her files. He looked them over with an annoyed glance and handed them back to her with her passport, waiving Wren away, “Next.” Wren shoved her file back into her backpack and grabbed her luggage, shaking off his rudeness as she walked between throngs of people. She tried not to glance at the different creatures of mermen, trolls, gollums, warlocks, witches, vampires, dwarves, fairies and werewolves that threaded through the area or gawk too long. A lot of people looked like humans or half-humans that walked past as she went to the outside to find the shuttle to the train. A hour passed filled with wrong turns and Wren finally found a train car that directly took her to Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures. She stowed her items away and sat as someone poked their head into the car, “Do you mind if I share a car with you? It’s kind of full everywhere else.” Wren nodded with a smile, meeting a set of light blue eyes that looked human. She was a bit relieved that she was human, given that all Wren’s other encounters were rude with anyone who wasn’t also human. That was becoming more apparent the more minutes she spent in Centaurus. As the girl was putting away her items overhead, another knock sounded and a large guy who had to duck into the car peaked in, “Can we join you? If there’s room, uh, of course.” His eyes were a light yellow and his skin was a slight tint of green with bumps over his arms. He was part troll from what Wren could tell but very polite with a thick Scottish accent. “Of course.” Wren tried to give a friendly nod to the seats in front of her as he ducked to get inside and helped the other human girl with her items overhead. A smaller fairy girl, about Wren’s height, with light glowing skin came inside behind him. She had light pink almost white, long wavy hair and quietly trotted behind the half troll guy as he helped her with her luggage storage too. He sat down on the farthest corner from Wren and the fairy girl sat next to Wren. A floral scent reached Wren’s nostrils and she smiled in nostalgia of going through gardening shops as a kid with her mother. There's an awkward silence in the train car until the half troll spoke, “My names Frederick Ploffploof. Half-troll if anyone’s wondering, first year and from Luss, Scotland. Nice to meet everyone.” He says with a deep voice and heavy accent, awkwardly looking between the three girls who are silent. He has a humor about him when he talks that Wren almost wants to giggle at but decided not to as she didn’t want to come across as a ‘fucking rude human’ again. The human girl across from Wren went next, “Hi, I’m Olivia Appleton, from Virginia, the States. First year, human.” The fairy girl spoke with a bubbly voice, “Hai hai! I’m Pixie Lightwood and I’m a fairy from Glowfield, Centaurus and second year.” A lot of fairies came from Glowfield or suburbs surrounding, Wren was going to guess that but didn’t want to say it or presume anything. Wren smiled, trying to be friendly and hopefully not weird by how giddy she was to meet others, especially who were creatures, “Wren Smith. First year, human unfortunately as well.” The group laughs as Wren spoke and she continued, “From Idaho, the States.” “Against most judgements cast against humans, I quite prefer them over witches any day.” Pixie said as she touched Wren’s arm in a friendly nudge and Wren looked down at the gentle touch that glistened after her hand left Wren’s skin. “Oops! I haven’t had that happen before besides in my community, I’m so sorry!” Pixie said, trying to wipe off the glisten and light glitter that was on Wren’s skin from her touch, yet, when she tried to wipe it off it caused even more glitter. Frederick rumbled in a laugh with Olivia as Wren tried dusting off the literal fairy dust, “It’s fine I got it! No worries.” Wren giggled with Pixie as she met her light pink and slightly yellow-green flecked eyes that glowed to Wren. She paused, “You said that doesn’t happen often?” “No, I mean, only to other fairies or pure people. If you're full human, that means I can trust you is all.” Pure? What did that mean? Wren thought. “I wouldn’t say I’m pure, maybe just dumb. Also, I’m for sure full human.” Wren says with a last giggle as she dusts off the glitter that doesn’t seem to go away. If she wasn’t human, she’d know for certain by this point in her life. She could not even count how many spells and potions she’s tried to cast in her life. Also, not to mention how many times she’s ran and jumped with a broomstick, only to face plant completely. If she were a fairy and could fly, Wren would have by now. She’s 100% human, which was unfortunate to Wren to say the least. Wren chalked it up to maybe that she was ‘pure’… whatever that meant. Olivia squeals from across from Wren, “Touch me next! I want to know!” “Me too!” Frederick rumbles as he sticks out his arm with Olivia and the group all laughs in the train car together. Pixie touches Olivia and Frederick and nothing happens. “Isn’t ‘purity’ like a virginity thing?” Frederick asks in his thick accent to Pixie. The train finally begins moving as it seems the train filled fully and students are walking in the hallways trying to find seats still. Wren blushes for a moment, hoping no one can see as she felt called out. Luckily, Pixie’s answer comes to her rescue. Pixie begins laughing loudly and shaking her head as her eyes are watery from laughing when she calms down, “No, purity is by-“ Someone open the car door and cuts Pixie off, “Excuse me, sorry to bother but-“ A very tall, handsome human-looking man with medium to long copper brown hair pushed back but falling carelessly to the side of his head enters the car. His sea blue eyes meet Wren’s and she almost drops her jaw and drools by how gorgeous he is. He was one of the most attractive men Wren had ever laid eyes on from his strong jawline down to his biceps and muscles carved through his black long sleeve shirt he war wearing. Why was Wren so suddenly flustered as he locked eyes with her? She had never felt so off-put by a simple question. Wren already assumed he was so far out of her league that she kept her mouth closed as his eyes left Wren’s and looked around the car, seeing it was full. Frederick took two seats easily and the other 3 seats were taken by the girls. Wren wished it was a six seat car to invite this mysterious man inside. Wren gulped, knowing that a beautiful fairy was next to her and another attractive girl sat across her way. Wren looked with a fleck of jealousy to Olivia who had light brown, long hair and beautiful blue eyes. In comparison, Wren had long dark brown, almost black hair and moss green eyes that she always felt she looked so plain and never anything special. She couldn’t help feeling like she was but a speck in the sea of women in that moment. She never even had a love interest before, yet for some reason this random beautiful man shows up and she was instantly into him. Never had she ever gotten so flustered by 6 words. God help her. “It looks like this car’s full, maybe next one.” He murmured to the person behind him in his slight Centaurus accent. He looked back over to the group and somehow his beautiful sea blue eyes fell to Wren instead of anyone else in the car, as if she were the only one inside it, “Sorry again.” He nodded to the rest of the group with a charming smile and closed the door. Wren blushed down at her hands, feeling dumb that she just stared at him without responding once, how could she be so stupid! That’s how Wren successfully doesn’t get a boyfriend. It wasn’t like she was looking to have one these next four years but she wouldn’t have been against having one if it were with someone as attractive as him. “Who was that fine piece of man?” Olivia blurted after he left and they all burst out laughing. “Looks can be deceiving, trolls are much better specimens of men just so you ladies know.” Frederick spoke and paused for a moment as he sighed, “Gentle giants as some would say.” He straightened out his shirts as they all laughed at his gentle giant comment. Pixie stopped laughing, the only second year among them, and said, “That’s Nate Seastone. I’m not sure if he’s single though, last year he was with one of the Sinister Twins which is, honestly, a huge red flag.” Olivia crossed her arms, “Bummer, he was hot.” Wren gulped, not saying anything as she now knew she wasn’t the only one who had a thing for him. “Who’s the ‘Sinister Twins’?” Wren asked, looking to Pixie. Pixie shook her head, blinking back a serious flicker in her eyes that Wren caught, looking down, “Sorry, I just don’t want to spread anything about them or gossip. They are just not good witches and I suggest steering clear of them. That’s all I’ll say.” An awkward silence took over the car as she said not good witches. Wasn’t it illegal to us magic to harm others? Wren thought to herself, hearing that Dragonstone kicked out people for that. She thought she was going to a safe school, not a we’ll-sweep-things-under-the-table type of school. Wren gulped, looking out the window as the train went over the edge of the cliffs that looked out to the sea. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder if she made the right decision going to Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures considering she was not, in fact, a warlock nor creature and was getting the impression humans really didn’t belong there.

Part 1 It was a hot late afternoon in August 1875 when a small group of girls was sitting in the patio of the Vennesvik inn. However, a random observer would notice that their arms were tied behind their backs. The group was no exception. All women around had their arms tied up as well. According to the Restriction Law in the Estreamund Kingdom, all females over 16 had to have their arms tied except for at home. Their husbands, fathers or brothers had to take care of their needs but they also had the authority to keep their wives, daughters or sisters tied up even more than necessary by the Law. In case of missing a family-related male caretaker, a public male caretaker was assigned. Almost all females were plagued by incontinence and they had to wear diapers. Of course, there were no disposables diapers available at those times, and dozens of washed diapers were hanging behind every house. The women and girls had to wash their diapers two or three times in a week. Surprisingly, there was no sign of rebellion from either side. The males accepted their role even if it was quite uncomfortable, and the females didn’t try to protest or try to escape. There was something like a dark mystery and curse hanging over the country as if the mind of every human was affected by a magic power. “How are you doing today, Anette?” a blonde girl turned to her neighbor, “It’s fine I’ve finished my chores and my father allowed me go here and drink a beer.” “You’re lucky, Sigrid; you have your father. My father passed away long ago and Olaf has been taking care of me since then.” “I know, Anette; Olaf is a good caretaker; I haven’t heard any complaints.” “Of course, he is but he has to take care of five girls including me and I have to stay tied up whenever he isn’t around. That’s quite frustrating. I can’t do anything on my own and I have to wear a thick diaper package. Today he stopped at my house at lunch and I could eat and change my diapers. Since then, I’ve been browsing the village and trying to waste time. He will come in the evening to do his round, and he will tie me to the bed then.” Sigrid nodded only. She knew about Anette and several more girls and women that were assigned a public caretaker. Olaf was really a good man, but he was a bit overloaded. Each of his clients had one morning and one afternoon reserved during workdays and about two days of weekend every month. Most of the reserved time they washed their diapers and tidied up. Nevertheless, Olaf’s life was even harder; he had only two days off in a month. James walked over to the girls and he held the glassof beer at their lips so they could drink. James was a nice young boy; he was the innkeeper’s son and he often helped his father. “Thank you, James,” Sigrid smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Sigrid,” he replied and moved to Anette. Anette drank up her cup and almost asked James for another one when she felt a stream of pee soaking her diaper package. The package was quite heavy and uncomfortable, and she couldn’t dare to pee once more until the next change. “Good afternoon, ladies; hopefully I don’t disturb” Olaf’s voice sounded cheerful and the middle aged man sat down next to the group. “Not at least, Olaf. Is your shift over already?” Anette turned to him. “Yeah, Anette, it is getting late. Maybe I should start my evening round soon. Would you like to be the first one?” “Why not, Olaf?” Anette’s heart jumped; she would get rid of the damn wet diaper. “Well, I’ll drink a beer and we can go then,” Olaf nodded, “James, bring me a glass of beer and the dinners for my girls.” The women cared for by public caretakers couldn’t work and the municipality took care of all their needs. The innkeeper prepared food and his expenses were refunded. Unfortunately, that was a reason for bad relationships. The poor women were considered parasites despite the fact they couldn’t work. Five minutes later James appeared with the beer and a big bag, Olaf paid for the beer and lifted the glass to his lips. He really was thirsty. Anette watched him only. “Let’s go, Anette,” Olaf stood up and stepped forward. Anette also stood up and waddled behind him. The wet package between her legs was heavy and Anette was worried about a leakage. “Hurry up? Anette,” Olaf closed the door and Anette hurried up to the small bathroom to remove the diaper package, wash herself and put on a new diaper and change into her nightshirt. She ate her dinner quickly and washed dishes. “Up to the bed,” Olaf took several pieces of rope and followed Anette. She lay down obediently and stretched her arms behind her head. Olaf tied her wrists to the upper bedposts. “Spread your legs,” Olaf took another piece of rope and tied it around her left ankle, “Sorry but I have to be sure you won’t try to get free, Anette.” “Don’t worry, Olaf. Why should I try to do it?” Anette smiled at Olaf. He was a handsome man, and he sometimes couldn’t resist the temptation when he took care of women. He was single; no woman wanted to marry a public caretaker for a good reason. Anette liked him and they had an intimate relationship. “Okay then,” Olaf tied her ankle to the lower bedpost and moved to her right side to repeat the procedure with her right ankle. Anette moaned quietly when she felt his hands on her bare legs. “Good night and think of me.” He covered her, leaned down, kissed her lips, put out the light and left. Anette couldn’t fall asleep; it was too early. She was thinking of Olaf, and she felt a slight arousal. Her life was almost miserable, and the time spent with Olaf was a pleasant one. Of course, she had several friends in the village, but they met rarely. Sigrid and Kristi were quite busy with helping their families. Mona and Hannah were two widows, and they were also cared for by Olaf; nevertheless they were quite boring and Anette wouldn’t like to meet them because of the urine smell. The old women liked beer and their diapers leaked almost every day. The thoughts of Olaf caused an itching feeling down between her legs, and she started pulling on the ropes in a vain effort to scratch that itch. Unfortunately, the inability to scratch the itch made it even more intense. She started moaning and pulling on the ropes but the response was unexpected; a stream of pee soaked her diaper. She sighed only, and the arousal disappeared. Suddenly the door opened, and a small figure sneaked in. “Hello, Anette,” James’s vice sounded cheerful. “Hi, James, nice to see you. Have you finished today?” “Not exactly but I wanted to see you. You are that lonely and you might need a friend.” “Oh, it is really nice from you, James. Right, I am quite lonely, and Olaf had to leave to take care of other his clients.” “Would you like to have one more beer to sleep better?” “Oh no,” Anette realized the wet package between her legs and blushed a little, “I would leak until morning.” “Unless,” James grinned mischievously, “unless somebody changed your diaper.” “Hey, what would you like to say?” “Don’t worry. I think Olaf has changed your diaper already. I know how to do it; I’ve changed my mother and sister already.” “Okay then. I might use it,” she smiled at the small boy. Was he really that nice? “Wait a little,” James set off and he returned fifteen minutes later with a glass of beer. “Drink,” he held the glass at Anette’s lips and let her drink. Anette was quite thirsty and drank it up quickly. The reaction was almost immediate, and another stream of pee escaped her bladder. “James …”, she grinned, and James nodded. He brought two cleans diapers and lifted Anette’s nightshirt, unbuttoned the rubber pants and removed the wet diapers. “You are all wet indeed,” he pulled the wet diapers form beneath Anette and put on two clean ones. “Well, it will hold until morning,” he covered her, took the wet diapers, put them into the pail and left, “good night.” Anette closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly. She was glad to have a new friend even if it was a small boy.

The Trinket By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Hunter Chapter One The Will Hunter sighed as his mother, who he was currently on the phone with, continued to drawl about the contractual obligations he now had to abide by. His great aunt, or now his late great aunt, had left him a few things in her will that came with a few specific rules. The fennec fox had barely known her, other than seeing her at a Christmas party and once during Thanksgiving when he was very young. She was not really even his aunt, being an in-law and a cheetah to boot. He had heard a few stories about her, some from his mother who had always spoken about her with a degree of awe mixed with disapproval. Whether or not she was even really his aunt in-law was in question sometimes, but her presence in the family was nevertheless appreciated, if not coveted. She had been an Egyptianologist, but not the kind that mostly stays on the campus of a university. Accused several times of being no better than a bounty hunter with a college degree, she would often beguile whoever cared to listen at the taverns and bars she was often found at about her great adventures in the middle east. There were usually many stories told and drinks bought during such evenings. Her alcoholism aside, she had apparently kept up her taste for adventuring into abandoned tombs and caves right up until the very end. They never recovered her, but enough time had passed where her body had been declared lost and her vast collection of artifacts reclaimed by the museums and universities. Judging from their hasty reclamation of such items, they had been waiting for exactly such an opportunity as her disappearance. They had claimed most of the artifacts, at least. “So like, dumb it down for me a bit, Mom?” Hunter asked, a slight note of exasperation coloring his tone of voice as one of his large ears flicked to the side in irritation. It was his mother’s turn to sigh, which was followed up by a response. “You just can’t sell any of the stuff. You’re supposed to keep it as if it were a family heirloom. There’s some evidence to support that this does belong to us give or take a hundred generations.” Hunter replied back. “Right, don’t sell. Just keep it. Anything else?” “Not until they go through the rest of her possessions and check her records. You might be getting some money too, but that’ll take a while.” Right… After the state takes its hefty cut… Hunter thought to himself, but he did his best to keep his sense of sarcasm out of the conversation. “Great, thanks Mom.” “Of course honey, was there anything else you wanted to know about Auntie Tare?” Hunter, knowing that this would probably prolong the conversation for another good hour, shook his head before realizing that his mother could not see his reaction. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hrm… No, no. I think I’m good for now, still… Processing and all that. I’ll talk to you later Mom.” “Okay sweetie, let me know what’s in the box. It looks mysterious!” “Yeah, I will. Love you Mom.” “Love you sweetie, bye bye now.” The line went silent, and Hunter put his phone down on the table with a sigh of relief. As silence enveloped the apartment, interrupted only by the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the fennec’s gaze drifted over to the box that sat in front of him on the dining room table. The word that could describe the wooden container could only be described as ornate. Carvings of Egyptian hieroglyphs laced with what he suspected was gold lining on the borders of the miniature crate gave the appearance of a most valuable item being stored inside. The wood had been treated with oil, and with great care as well. Part of him wondered if the box might be empty, as the container itself looked relatively valuable. Whatever it was, he was not surprised that his aunt had mentioned that he was not allowed to sell it. I’d probably make a pretty penny off of it too… Hunter mused to himself, as he pushed his chair back and stood up, only to crouch in front of the box in order to more closely examine its decor. He was not literate in Egyptian hieroglyphs, nor was he particularly interested in learning more about them. History had always bored the little fox, and despite having a renowned, though estranged, Egyptologist in the family it never sparked the same fascination and excitement as it did in Aunt Tare. Well, might as well have a look then. Reaching forward, he undid the clasp on the front of the box and pushed the lid open. Its hinges worked silently, and Hunter immediately noted that the entire inside of the box was laced with a vibrant, purple velvet. Amidst the swathes of cloth, Hunter beheld a palm sized brooch made of a mixture of dulled copper and gold. Marveling at it, the fennec’s eyes widened as he scanned its surface. The fennec picked it up with a paw and noted its significant weight. Equipped with a pin which Hunter presumed was intended to keep a cloak around a traveler’s shoulders, Hunter turned the brooch over and let out a surprised breath. The ornament had been placed upside down in its container, and it was studded with several small jewels with one large piece in its center. Peering closely at them, it took Hunter a moment to realize that they were opals. In the center of the metal disk, the largest of the opals was oval in shape. It gleamed as if freshly polished when it caught the last of the afternoon sun streaming from Hunter’s half shuttered window. A small scratch in the center of the opal was the only blemish on the piece, revealing the rainbow colored insides of the gem that refracted in ever changing patterns of color as he turned it over. Strangely, despite the fact that it had been sitting in the box ever since it had been delivered to his doorstep inside of its own, discrete cardboard container, the brooch was warm to the touch. And it felt like it was getting warmer. “It’s… pretty…” Hunter said lamely, to no one in particular. His initial curiosity had been sated, and he was now coming to the conclusion that he really had no use for the gem-encrusted display piece other than to perhaps show it off for his friends. The more he thought about it, being the owner of such a valuable piece now might mean that he would have to take insurance out on it. Great… Another responsibility… The fennec thought grimly to himself. Hunter was about to set the artifact down, when the opal flashed catching his eyes. Blinking, he looked down at the gem and wondered if he had imagined the sudden luminescence that had come from the piece. Gingerly, he brought it back up to his eyes and peered closely at the scratch on the gem’s surface to see if he had missed some refractive angle inside of the opal’s crack. Seeing that there was nothing he could immediately detect, he placed the brooch back down in its comfortable bed, this time right side up with the opal facing the ceiling of his apartment. He thought about where he should put the box, glancing around his apartment and seeing now apparent free space where he might rest it. I’ll probably just chuck it into my closet or something… His stomach rumbled, reminding him that his mother’s phone call had caused him to miss lunch at a reasonable hour. Closing the box, he decided to put his inheritance out of his mind for the time being. Padding over to his closet, he picked out his jacket and fumbled the keys to his apartment out of the bowl they rested in. I’m kind of hankering for some chicken… He thought to himself, his mind already beginning to drift away from the strange set of rocks that were now his, now and forever. He did, however, check twice that he had locked the door to his apartment before bounding down the staircase leading to the lobby of his apartment complex.

Incomplete | In-progress This is generated from a "what if" idea The Diaper dimension as portrayed by many is too harsh This idea is about a flipped world where the decision of an Amazon brought about a rude shift in the power dynamic between the Amazon, 'Tweeners and Littles alike. Plot Settings: Lozali: Future Amazonia by a century Amazonia: Here we have our lovely diaper dimension Earth: Our dear Earth NB: 'Lozali' is made up from Amazonia and Libertalia LIttle scenes: Moved to https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/57308-idea-adoption-thread/&do=findComment&comment=2046649 Updated Version there ☝️

Chapter 1 Scott could hardly contain his giddiness as he turned his steering wheel to make a left at the intersection. After several weeks of careful planning, scheming, checking, and rechecking, he finally had a free weekend for himself. He had spent those weeks ordering discrete packages filled with supplies of a particular nature and tinkering in his garage on a device that he hoped would be able to fulfill his wildest fantasies. He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he put his blinker on and changed lanes, wanting to get home as soon as legally possible. Scott had had a great week at work, his boss had been admiring the white leopard's progress for a while now. He had recently designed a filing system that, according to his calculations, had increased the company’s data storage system by a whole 12.4%. The subsequent increase in efficiency had also increased his paycheck to a much sizable amount, which he had recently been putting to good use. Scott was a brilliant engineer and computer programmer, his passion for creation had brought him to work for Sky-TEC industries, a company that specializes in creating computers whose processing power and ability to complete tasks in incredibly low amounts of time had brought them up to one of the best technology companies in the world. But as brilliant as this company was, Scott was just a little bit more brilliant. Scott had quite unmistakably come into contact with a piece of technology that was top secret and incredibly powerful. Many would use it for great evil, while some might use it to achieve near indestructibility. Scott however, wasn't particularly interested in any of those things. He had some very private tendencies that he had never shared with anyone since he was a child. Specifically, he loved indulging in infantile fantasies, imagining himself just like a little kid again. From feeling the warmth of a freshly soaked diaper, to the pleasurable struggle of being put in bondage whilst wearing a soiled diaper, unable to do anything about his current predicament, to the wonderful childlike freedom of just wearing a diaper and t-shirt whilst watching children's shows on TV. Scott had spent a good amount of time imagining exactly what he'd love to do to or by himself if he had the time and resources to fulfill his fantasies. Fantasies that he hoped would be fulfilled very soon. The leopard pulled into the driveway of his comfortable little home. It wasn't anything special, he had little furnishings to decorate it with, but it had what he liked to consider an "aesthetical amount of space". He turned off the engine, grabbed his shoulder bag, and exited the car, walking into his garage. He flicked on the lights, and as the light bulbs blinked awake the device that he'd spent months on putting together sat on his workshop table. To put it bluntly, Scott had been programming a device that would essentially stop time itself. Through a combination of biotechnology, an improbability-engine, and a calculator that essentially worked on the whimsical nature of the polarity of electrons whirling around in titanium atoms in the contraption, the device was able to access the particular genetic code of the user and ignore all cells with the sequence, then continue to all other organic matter and inorganic matter and "freeze them in place". Scott didn't fully understand it, but he knew how to put the parts together and calibrate the machine. One might think that experimenting with such a device would be incredibly risky, but Scott had that figured out as well. He had coded in a fail-safe into the device. If a large amount of cells of the individual who had activated the device began to shut down at a rapid enough pace indicating possible death, it would essentially reverse the freezing process restoring reality to normal. Scott picked up the device with baited breath. It didn't look like anything special, like a TV remote except with fewer buttons and what looked like more volume controls. He connected his phone to the remote and fed it information about the current time, position of earth relative to the sun, and relative temperatures around the world. He hoped that the device would be able to send out the proper frequency into the molecules around it, setting off the time freezing reaction properly. He knew that if it failed, it may fail spectacularly, possibly even harming him despite the fail safe. A green light on the device shone, indicating that it was ready to be activated. He closed his eyes, pressed his eyes shut, and pushed a large red button with his finger. A loud rushing sound echoed through his ears, he fell backwards sputtering and coughing, he felt as if everything in a single part of his body was getting lightly tickled with electricity, he yelled in alarm, but before he could yell for more than a second it all stopped. Scott looked around. Everything looked. . . normal. He went over to the garage switch and pressed it, a whirring sound came from the door as it opened. He padded outside and his jaw dropped. Birds hung eerily in the air, much like bricks don't. Leaves stood stalk still, frozen as a gust of wind was blowing through it. Scott fanned himself with a paw experimentally, looking at it as he felt the air particles against his whiskers and fur. He had done it. He had created a device that stopped time. It stopped time for everything and everyone! Everyone, except him. Scott hooted and hollered! He started running down the street, passing cars with passengers in them halfway through a sip of coffee, forming a word as they talked on the phones, or smiling jaws and maws agape as they sang to their favorite car songs. Scotts saw planes and clouds, unmoving in the sky, felt the warmth of the sun on his fur as it peeked behind a cloud, permanently, until adjusted by the remote of course. Scott stopped running in the middle of an intersection and turned around and around, taking in the view. He laughed, joyous that he had achieved something that most thought was only possible in sci-fi movies and fantasy novels. Suddenly, he remembered why he had gone so ridiculously out of his way with his invention. He turned tail sprinted back to his house and got quickly inside, closing his door, not bothering to lock it. Who would try bothering him now if every ‘who’ was frozen in time? He walked inside his sparsely furnished living room and opened one of the brown boxes he had sitting there. A fresh waft of baby powder and ointment met his feline nostrils as he admired the contents of the box. Within it lay several large, fluffy adult diapers, each themed with little cartoons of various baby animals wearing diapers. Some looked sleepy, others laughed in joy, while still others were too busy with a toy to do anything else. Scott shuddered with excitement and let out a shaky sigh. Finally, I can unwind like I've always wanted to. He thought, as his tail twitched in anticipation. He looked at the other boxes, knowing that what they contained would only increase the amount of fun he was about to have. He grinned, and speaking aloud to no one said, “It’s going to be a good weekend."

? Isle of Foxes By Horatio Husky Commissioned by ArtMckinley Part One ”Island” Janet Parker kept her breathing steady, and her sights up. Disembarking from the rowboat after having crossed part of the East China Sea, the young anthropologist’s arms had shook even as she hauled the boat ashore. Still, after having furtively glanced around the deserted shoreline, she confirmed that she had managed to arrive undetected. Shouldering her backpack and hefting her emergency supplies kit out of the boat, she had half carried, half dragged her supplies to the jungle’s edge and hoisted her baggage into a small nestling of exposed rock. There, she would set up her camp. No fire or open forest floor plan for Janet, however. The mission she was attempting to undertake required utmost discretion, for not only was she going to have to camouflage her encampment as best as she could, but the boat would also have to be hauled further onto the island and hidden with brush. Still, Janet figured, she had some time yet. Carefully unpacking some of her supplies, she laid out the spokes and tarp that would make up her tent. Patterned the same lush hues of green as the surrounding underbrush, the anthropologist internally crossed her fingers that she would remain undetected. As she began to erect the tent, moving the expanding metal rods and tough, industrial string through the various pores of the tarp, her mind wandered back to the grueling process that had led her to the island she had been fascinated with since childhood. Maps of ‘Okidaitōjima’ had covered the walls in her bedroom ever since she was twelve. Previously known as ‘Rasa Island’ but also known as ‘Abreojos’ by its Spanish discoverer Bernardo de la Torre, who had become all too familiar with its perilously shallow surrounding shores, it was not the geography or its history that fascinated Janet. For thousands of years, the Japanese islanders who inhabited the Okinawa Islands held the island as sacred and forbidden to set foot upon. Untouched by humanity for hundreds of years, the island was rumored to be home to the only known species of intelligent, anthropomorphic foxes. Only recently had satellite imagery confirmed that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Changes in the island’s landscape and blurry images supplied by the satellite’s imagery suggested that there was indeed a primitive presence on the island. Janet still remembered the moment she had first viewed the low resolution pictures of erected watch towers and small huts, covered in leafy green vines and appearing almost as if they had been grown out of the forest into a desired shape. She had almost spat out her morning coffee when, unnoticed by her colleagues, a suspiciously orange shape appeared to be perched neatly in one of the towers. She had kept this observation to herself of course. Janet knew that if she founded her request to her university’s funding committee based on what most considered to be Japanese folklore she would be laughed out of the conference room. Persuading the Japanese government to lift the sanctions protecting the island’s shores from visitors of any kind was no easy task either. After several months of back and forth, Janet had opened her office mailbox to the welcome sight of a red envelope addressed to her personally. Inside of it, she was greeted with a letter proudly marked with the logo of the Japanese embassy. Not only had she been granted a researcher’s visa, but she would become the very first civilized human being to study the island’s inhabitants. Janet had gotten her chance, a childhood dream to prove to the world that lateral sentient evolution had occurred in other mammalian species. With any luck, after collecting enough evidence to make her claim undisprovable, she would begin a new career as the world’s first and leading anthropomorphologist. Janet regarded her handiwork, noting with a sense of self-satisfaction that her practice at home had paid off. From afar, the tent she had just constructed appeared indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle flora. In fact, she thought to herself, I’ll have to take careful note of its surrounding landmarks if I’m to find it again… After taking a moment to carefully study her immediate area, noting a particularly mossy boulder only a few feet away from her camp, she turned her gaze over to the metal and plastic watercraft she had arrived in. Its exterior had been painted a dull gray with a motley of military green intermixed with its rather unappealing color scheme. Despite having been designed to match the surrounding jungle, the glossy waterproofing it had been covered with caught the sun in a dazzling reflection. Janet made her way towards the boat, nervously glancing behind her shoulder at the looming watchtowers that just poked over the canopy of the jungle behind her. I really hope they haven’t been looking in this direction for the past hour… Stretching her arms above her head and behind her back as she strode purposefully towards the craft, she limbered herself up in preparation for a grueling haul towards the jungle’s edge. With several undignified grunts of effort and a lot of panting later, Janet was grateful to find that after pulling the boat onto the looser, dryer sand her efforts became significantly less labored. Half an hour later, Janet stood with her arms on her hips as she squinted hard at the boat, which was now concealed under a hefty amount of fallen branches and leaves. Sure… If you look at it long enough you’ll notice something is amiss… But that’s only if you expect to see something out of place. Contenting herself with the thought that after a day or two worth of tropical jungle rainfall the hidden boat would sink more organically into its surroundings, Janet waded through the sand back towards her tent. After a few minutes of anxiously scanning the jungle, her eyes alighted on the boulder she had set as her landmark and soon enough she was crawling inside of her makeshift abode. It was getting late, the sun began to cast the western part of the island with rosier hues, shifting from its lustrous, daytime yellow to a soft, warm red. The inside of her tent was growing darker at a much faster rate than the beach outside, so Janet quickly prepared her evening meal with what little light she had left. She opened one of the bento boxes she had purchased at the harbor, knowing she would have to savor the first few meals on the island as she went through her fresh rations before she would have to resort to eating dried food, and the few canned goods she had brought alone that would have to be consumed cold. Looking up, she took a minute to meditate before she dug in. I actually made it… Too concerned with ensuring that her base of operations was set up quickly and undetected, Janet had not allowed herself a moment to truly let the enormity of where she was impact her fully. She was on ‘the Isle of Foxes,’ the very one that her father had read to her when she was just a little girl. A giddy expression spread across her face as she looked down at her meal, shaking her head in jubilant disbelief. She had done it, years of university with her nose stuck in dusty books followed by a delicate campaign to convince a sovereign nation to allow her to set foot on one of their sacred islands. And she had managed to accomplish it all. Janet Parker did her best to compose herself then, not wanting to let her sense of victory and relief become premature. She still had a job to do, after all. With any luck, she would be able to use the week’s worth of time her limited supplies allowed her to glean enough data from the island’s inhabitants to serve as a milestone for the entire field of anthropology. Reaching forward, the young researcher undid one of the flaps of her tent to reveal the setting sun, gently descending down into the giant ocean pool beneath it. That day’s sunset serving as her evening meal’s entertainment, Janet took her time slowly picking up clumps of rice and pieces of pork dumpling with her chopsticks. The last hints of the sun had just barely disappeared beneath the horizon when she finished. Shrugging off her travel ware, Janet stripped down into her underwear before nestling herself into her sleeping bag. The inside of the tent was a little warm for her comfort, but she knew better than to fall asleep exposed to the elements. The temperature would drop quickly, and she would not have her dream field expedition burdened by a head cold. Janet allowed her eyelids to grow heavy, taking in slow, deep breaths as she calmed herself down to further expedite the onset of sleep. It was difficult at first, her mind was a whirl with the following day’s duties and plans. But eventually, she found herself nodding off, the muffled sounds of jungle insects and nightlife creeping into her dreams as she dozed off into a tired, deep slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet crept through the jungle foliage at a crouch. Every dozen steps or so, she would glance around furtively in the canopy above before slowly standing up to locate the beaten path she was trailing. The explorer had to take care to not walk on any of the jungle paths, as the likelihood of discovery by one of the island’s inhabitants taking the same path was too much to risk. This made the going very slow, as Janet had to take time to not only maneuver around obstacles such as gnarled roots or dense vegetation, but she had to do so without making too much noise or damaging the plants. This proved more challenging than she had originally anticipated, and sweat beaded her brow as the morning slowly shifted into afternoon, the island’s temperature rising as the sun continued to bombard it with summer’s radiation. As she ventured through, Janet’s eyes alighted on the various dried grass and wooden effigies that stood erected in the trees above, or swinging gently from a motley of vines like marionette puppets. Janet keenly noted that each of the wooden figurines appeared each to sport a distinct set of pointed ears at the top of their heads. This fact alone restirred the excitement of the butterflies inside of Janet’s stomach. | Still, despite the discomfort and slow traversing, Janet knew she was making progress. Her nostrils had caught a whiff of smoke, telling her that she must be getting closer to the primitive encampment. The smell of cooked fish and a strange, pungent herb had accompanied the woodsmoke. They must be good trappers… There haven’t been any reports of seeing them in the waters… Janet reflected to herself, inching her around an overturned log. Eager to see for herself, the anthropologist stopped as she spotted the back wall of one of the huts about a hundred meters away from her. Walking towards the village on the ground was far too dangerous, and Janet glanced around the surrounding trees as she decided that now would be a perfect time to execute phase two of her covert observation plan. She stretched once more, recalling the advice of her acrobatics instructor from her youth as she assessed which tree would be easiest for her to scale. Her gaze settled on a particularly large looking tree, covered in a dense blanket of vines and moss that would serve well for gripholds and traction. With a muffled grunt, Janet grabbed the nearest vine and hoisted herself up, her ankles gripping the leafy rope tightly as she began to ascend. One hand over another, Janet felt the excitement of the ascent course through her, quickly replacing the idle boredom of having to slowly sneak through the tropical forest. Janet reached for the branch above her, her knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped the aged bark enough to support her entire weight. Grabbing onto another part of the same branch with her other hand, she felt her grip loosen as her heart skipped a beat. Bits of decayed bark fell down to the forest floor below as she swayed precariously, holding on with only four of her fingers; the foliage below appeared dangerously far beneath her. She gasped, only just barely stifling the yell of fright that had welled up in her chest as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Silently, her face contorted into a pained expression of effort and desperation. She swung herself from side to side, before reaching up and grabbing the branch once more with her other hand. To her relief, the wood held, and bit by bit she was able to haul herself up until she kneeled safely on the tree’s rigid bough. Janet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as her nerves calmed themselves down from the fight or flight response. Trying not to think about the fact that she had almost plummeted to her death, Janet quickly shuffled along the branch and began to make her way slowly through the canopy in the direction of the primitive village. A quarter of an hour later, she had closed the hundred meter distance. The smell of cooking fires and sizzling meat now punctuated the air, causing Janet’s mouth to water. Whatever the island’s inhabitants were cooking up, it smelled delicious. The anthropologist almost regretted having to conduct the research undetected, as she would have loved in that moment to break bread with the cooks of the island. She could now hear muffled voices, remarkably high-pitched for a collection of human primitives. Janet did her best to control her breath, her vision still obstructed by the large hut in front of her. She would have to creep along the branch, and do her best to glean what she could from the leafy canopy above. Janet’s right hand crept slowly into her satchel, ruffling around its contents until her fingers came into contact with the cool metal of her camera. Quietly, she took it out of her bag. She was about to begin a slow, methodical crawl across the tree’s branch when she heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves to her left. Before she could react, a voice that sounded like a squeaky child’s inquiry almost caused her to fall out of the tree in surprise. Janet’s head whipped around towards the source of the voice. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes growing wide as she beheld the sight in front of her. Standing on two paws at roughly a meter in height, with a blood orange colored fur coat, was a fox.

This is not my first story but I'm hardly a prolific writer and this probably isn't the best story, but it aims to be fun at least: After a long day at work I find myself sitting alone at a table in an upscale restaurant, patiently waiting for my date to turn arrive, sipping on a delightful cocktail I checked my phone, she had already messaged to say she was running late and that i should get seated and have a drink. I skim through her profile again. "Angelique" 32, 6' 2" doesn't smoke, drinks socially, omnivore Enjoys good food, cooking, cocktails, twilight strolls, good conversation, reading, philosophy travel, design, architecture and art. Dislikes assholes, asparagus, snakes and churches. Tucked away at the bottom "prefers miss our ma'am unless otherwise instructed" While reading this and committing it to memory I hear some heels clicking across the stone floor of the restaurant, glancing up i see a woman looking very much like the photos on the internet, dressed to the nines in a perfectly fitting red dress, I resist the urge to pinch myself to ensure i hadn't drifted into the realm of fantasy. As she walks to the table i can't help but notice that she doesn't so much walk as glide, walking with an elegance and poise I've not quite seen before. As the waiter escorted her to the table I stand to greet her, now somewhat awestruck. Usually when you met people the photos are an idealized curated representation here it was quite the opposite. she had dark hair and milky white skin that almost seemed to shine, silver and diamond jewelry complemented the effect. We sit again and I have to force myself to get some words out: "Good evening Miss, I hope this isn't too forward of me, but you look absolutely stunning" Immediately Angelique smiled "Thank you sweetie, you're looking adorable yourself" I'm wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a red brocade waistcoat. "Dress smart, wear something red" was one of her instructions when we were setting this rendezvous up. "So, I see you can read and follow instructions" Angelique beamed "this seems to be a rare quality in boys these days, please call me Angelique" I feel myself blushing both at the tone and the very fact I'm was being complimented, it's not something I'm particularly used to. "Thank You, Angelique, I do my best" We peruse the menu for a moment "have you been here before?" I ask " do you have any suggestions?" "yes, absolutely this is one of my favorites, you can't go wrong with anything, they're known for the steak but the seafood dishes are great too and the brussel sprouts here are amazing" "Thanks, I was leaning towards the dry aged rib eye, and brussel sprouts are literally my favorite" as i say this i also shuddered slightly at the price of it. If the choice of restaurant was anything to go by Angelique certainly had expensive tastes, in the back of my mind i hoped she'd volunteer to split the bill, while spending a couple hundred dollars on a meal wouldn't break the bank it was far more than i would usually spend, especially on a first date. Angelique looked up from the wine list "do you like red wine? They have one of my favorites if you'd like to split it?" "Absolutely, I'm not the biggest wine connoisseur but I definitely enjoy it" Exactly on queue as if summoned the waiter appears. "Are you ready to order madame or do you need some more time?" "No, we're ready. We'll start with the scallops, I'll go for a New York strip, rare, he'll have the ribeye, medium rare and we'll split the brussel sprouts. Also the 2016 reserve Cabernet" After taking the menus we're left alone again. At this point I'm a little flushed, I've never had someone order for me in a restaurant especially not on a first date and I'm really liking where this is going. I run though a the profile in my head trying to think of something to talk about. "So, I read on your profile you're into philosophy, do you have any favorite philosophers?" Maybe a little heavy for a first topic but we'll see where this goes "oh absolutely I've always been partial to Nietzsche, I love what he has to say about exceptional people and how we should seek to be truly exceptional and live by our own internal code" For the next 2 hours the conversation flows we span multiple subjects and I can't find a single subject that she doesn't seem extremely well versed, with a depth of knowledge that I wonder where she finds the time to learn all of this, we go on journeys down rabbit holes I don't even know exist. The meal as promised was exquisite with everything being perfectly cooked and seasoned, eventually with the wine gone and having polished off a cheese plate it comes time to leave. The waiter brings the check and curiously hands it's directly to Angelique. I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. Angelique smiles again "don't be silly sweetheart, I've got this" she says Again I find myself blushing "are you sure? I could get this? Or we could split it?" "Do I look confused?" She retorts in a stern but still caring tone "now put that away and let me get this" The restaurant is a short walk from my apartment but she had mentioned getting driven here. "Can I wait with you until your car arrives?" I ask, hoping to prolong the evening just that little bit longer. "Of course you can sweetie" we walk outside the restaurant but again exactly like with the waiter a black Mercedes pulls up as if summoned out of the ether, I haven't seen her touch a phone or anything. "This is me" she says "I really enjoyed our dinner" before giving me a chance to reply she pops a single kiss on my cheek and jumps into the car. At this point the walk home is a daze, I'm almost floating. Drunk on infatuation and excitement (and a bottle of wine for good measure) Arriving home I mix myself an old fashioned and sit on the sofa to reflect. My phone bings telling me I have another match on the dating app, I would normally be taking a look, but it no longer seems worthwhile. I glance at my profile. Alex Evans, 30, 5' 11" It goes into some depth but the gist of it is I'm a nerd and an engineer who enjoys making things (food, beer, trebuchet etc) I wonder what made me catch the eye of this incredible woman, do I deserve her and while she might have paid this time, I can't afford that kind of restaurant every day. As fun as the evening has been, all things must come to an end and I head to bed and collapse face forward into it, falling asleep almost instantly.

This story is a sequel of my former story Happy Family. Prologue: When the mysterious regression machine was transported from the Happy Family villa to the city university, a research program started. The IT experts wanted to reprogram the machine to return the transformed children back to their original age and condition. The research program was advancing slowly for two basic reasons. One of them was - as expected - money, and the second one was the lack of volunteers. Surprisingly, the research program started anew suddenly but the experts changed their behavior; they didn’t want to talk about their tasks. All rooms in the regression machine research department were locked and a guard was posted to the entrance. Nobody at the university knew about the guard and the program change but the experts themselves. Part 1: Claire opened her eyes and tried to remember what had happened to her. Her last memory was the court and some words about an alternative sentence. Everything else seemed to be hidden in a fog. She was not an angel and that was not her first verdict. Claire became a member of a criminal gang and she took part in several armed robberies. During the last robbery she shot a police officer dead. “She is a dangerous person and we have to take appropriate measures to assure public safety …” the words of the DA emerged from the fog “I require the hardest sentence … the death sentence.” Was she dead? Was this heaven … or hell? Claire didn’t have any idea about what heaven or hell looked like. When she looked around, she recognized a nursery. It looked real; no clouds, no angels, no cauldrons with boiling tar and no devils. She definitely was not dead. Why was she in a nursery? She lifted her head and looked at her body. To her utter shock she looked at a toddler. Her size matched a two or three year old child. Her clothing consisted of a toddler dress and tights and … there was a thick package between her legs. She realized she was wearing a diaper. The package was uncomfortably thick and kept her legs apart. What had happened? Claire sat up and looked around again. She was sitting inside a crib and there were three more cribs in the room. Two of them were occupied by toddlers; one of them was apparently even younger than her, about one year old. The other one was as old as her. “Hey, where are we?” Claire asked the toddler. According to the clothing it was a boy. “In the hell.,” he answered, “my name is Mark. You are new here.” “Yeah, I am and my name is Claire,” Claire replied to him, “How so? There are no devils here.” “I’m afraid there are. Be ready for the worst.” “Who are you?” “I don’t remember much but I think I was sentenced to death.” “I think I was, too. But … we are alive.” “I’m afraid it is no win.” “What is going on here?” “No idea but I’ve been here for about two weeks. I have to wear diapers and I occasionally pee myself but I think I’d be able to go to the toilet. However, the damn nurses keep me in diapers and I can’t remove them. My fingers are too clumsy. My legs also are wobbly and I keep stumbling and falling down.” Claire sighed and tried to stand up. The package between her legs made her attempt hard and she was standing with her legs wide apart. Fortunately, her legs seemed to be strong and she could stand despite the uncomfortable position. She grabbed the rim of the tights and pulled it down a bit to see the diaper package. Several cloth diapers were covered by rubber pants. She tried to unbutton the rubber pants but her fingers were clumsy and she couldn’t do it. Her bladder was full and the urge to pee hit her. She instinctively reached between her legs and pressed against the diaper. The attempt to close or cross her legs definitely failed. “Claire, don’t fight and pee in the diaper; you don’t have any other option left.” “Oh no; it’s embarrassing.” “Get used to it as soon as possible. They probably think you are an actual toddler.” “They?” “Those who did something to us. I experienced a very bad treatment but I can give you useful advice; pretend to be an actual toddler and your life here will be better. The little Elaine,” he pointed at the little baby in the third crib,”looks quite satisfied but she can’t speak at all. All she has to endure are dirty diapers.” “How so?” “Our diapers are changed in the morning and in the evening. They are thick enough to keep our pee and poo in the meantime.” “Okay then,” Claire sighed and relaxed her muscles. The hot pee soaked the diaper and it got wet and heavy. It definitely was embarrassing and Claire blushed. At that moment steps could be heard from outside and Allan reacted immediately: “Hey, don’t forget; you are an actual toddler. Maybe you even can’t speak. Try to stay in that role.” Claire nodded and she somehow managed to control her blush and kept silent when the door opened and an older woman appeared in the doorframe. She was carrying a tray with three baby bottles. “Hey, Mark; your bottle,” she took one of the bottles and passed it to Mark. He grabbed it and drank thirstily; his throat was probably dry. “Now to you, Claire. Welcome to the State Research Centre. Drink now and you will go to the examination. Do you understand me?” Claire almost replied but she remembered Mark’s words and shook her head and stretched her arm to take the bottle. ”Oh, another failure! The agents won’t be pleased.” the woman sighed but she realized she’s just told what she wasn’t supposed to. However, she relied on the fact that the damn creatures didn’t understand her. She proceeded to the little Elaine and held the bottle so Elaine could drink. Meanwhile Claire and Mark drank up the juice; the woman gathered the bottles and left the room. “Hey, what agents? Are we in a B-class spy movie?” Claire couldn’t accept what she just heard. “I have no idea but I have experienced several examinations already. They checked my muscle coordination and vocal and mental abilities.” “What did they find?” “Unfortunately, I replied to their first simple questions but I realized quickly what was going on and pretended to be retarded. Now they have stopped examinations but I don’t know what will happen to me.” Ten minutes later the woman returned and she lifted Claire from the crib. “Can you walk?” She put the little girl on the floor but didn’t try to hold her if Claire stumbled. Claire stepped forward carefully and she was able to waddle with the package between her legs. The wet diaper was softer and she could walk a little better. They left the nursery and the nurse led Claire down a long corridor. Claire tried to watch the surroundings and stay inconspicuous. She noticed several more nurseries but she also noticed a room where adult sized persons were trained in some way. Some of them were diapered and all had a void look in their eyes. A man in the army uniform - a high ranked officer apparently - issued commands and the persons seemed to be mindless machines and obeyed those commands. The door was open but the officer hurried up and shut it with a loud thump when he noticed the nurse and Claire. A cold chill ran down Claire’s spine. Although she wasn’t educated, she was bright and intelligent and she also had a lot of life experience. Her mind worked like a swiss watch. She somehow got into some kind of army related plot and she was in real danger. Mark’s advice proved very useful. Maybe she had a chance if she was considered little and helpless. She wouldn’t become a threat then. The nurse stopped in front of a door and knocked on it. “Come in”, a male voice replied. “Sir, I have escorted Claire Bakers at your command. She is ready for the examination.” Claire stayed calm this time; she had managed to get ready for the upcoming events. Mark and the room with mindless persons had warned her already. She didn’t react at all and waited. The nurse opened the door and pushed her inside. “Claire?” a man in a doctor-like outfit asked her. “A - a - a,” Claire nodded and tried to stay calm. “You can’t speak! You are a big girl though!” the man pushed her more. “O - o - o,” Claire nodded. A real toddler would be proud of the sounds. “Okay, walk around!” the man continued and Claire waddled around in front of him. The wet diaper was rubbing against her crotch and it was a bit unpleasant. “Come and look at the cubes. Build a tower!” There were several cubes sitting on a small table but Claire tried to stay in the role of a little girl and looked at the man as if she didn’t understand. The man sighed heavily and walked over to the table and built a tower of five cubes. Claire followed him clumsily and tried to do it but her fingers really were clumsy and she failed at the third cube. The next attempt was more successful but she didn’t finish the tower anyway. “Anything to report, nurse?” The man turned to the nurse. “Nothing, sir. She was delivered two hours ago and she was able to hold her baby bottle. That’s all.” “Well, lead her back and we will decide upon her tomorrow,” he sighed, “The commander won’t be pleased.” The nurse grabbed Claire at hand and dragged her out of the room. Claire looked at the watch; it was almost noon.

? Matilda the Bear By Horatio Husky Commission for ArtMckinley Chapter I. Matilda inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as the night air of the forest filled her spirit lungs and nostrils with a sweet, damp scent. The leaves and branches crunched satisfyingly underneath her large foot paws as she walked along her usual midnight stroll, the bottom of her dress billowing beneath her but above the dew covered grass, keeping itself away from its moisture. The being had dressed herself in a maternal looking apron on top of her dress, resembling the image of a motherly caretaker from decades past. She always had a habit of taking a while to catch up to modern fashions, and enjoyed staying a little behind in the times. Her figure was still intimidating despite her motherly appearance, long brown hair, a towering height of well over seven feet, and as with most females bear spirits she bore heavy set breasts and large arms and legs. As a spirit, however, she wasn’t bothered by her appearance, and fully embraced her largeness with a positive personality. Not to mention, she had other worries than how she looked. Her concerns were with the locals and their relation to the forest, keeping sure that each stayed where they belonged and didn’t bother each other too much. That’s when the car with its brights on and music blaring decided to park by the side of the road bordering the forest, her ears perked up, and she followed the source of the noise. Goodness me! If this is Tom again getting home late and drunk his wife isn’t the only one that is going to have strong words with him, she thought to herself annoyedly, remembering how one of the locals had a bad habit of drinking and driving, and how on multiple occasions she had to nurse him back to health herself. The distinct smell of booze was in the air as she approached, her sensitive nostrils picking up a few other choice scents as she drew closer. Are those teenagers out again sleeping with each other away from their parents? Goodness me the youth today truly are shameless! At last she stood next to the car by the passenger side window, she leaned over and peeked inside. Much to her horror, the scene before her was uglier than any she had seen before. Covered in sweat and runny make-up a girl who looked to be in her early twenties lay in the driver’s seat, her breath reeking of alcohol as she moaned to herself loudly, her right hand stuck in the front of her pants working its way in and out of what Matilda presumed to be her unspeakables. Several black highlights were present in her dirty blonde hair, and she was clad in what was in Matilda’s opinion, “Scant, modern rags.” “What do you think you’re doing, young lady? Do you know what time it is? And goodness gracious, do you have any idea how naughty this behavior is! Drunk and touching yourself in the middle of the forest, tsk tsk. You do know that it's a school night and the squirrel kids have to be up bright and early to go to their nut-gathering classes! And don’t even get me started on the birds and worms!” The young woman started at first, turning to gaze at the forest spirit and narrowing her eyes, having difficulty focusing on her blacked out state. Suddenly comprehension dawned on her incapacitated state of mind, and she let out a yelp. “BEAR! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP THERE’S A BEAR OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!” She fumbled with her keys to get them into the ignition, but Matilda was too quick for her. “You’re not going anywhere tonight young lady, you’re coming with me!” Before she realized what was happening, the bear had walked around the front of the car, opened the driver’s seat, and gently extricated the young lady from her car. Cradling her gently in her arms, she entered into a brisk walk back into the forest towards her home, the young lady blinking and trying to come to her senses while the world spun around her. “L-let me go! I don’t want to be eaten! W-why are you talking anyway… What are you… You’re a bear!” The young woman’s words slurred, which only added to Matilda’s disapproval, “Your behavior is absolutely inappropriate, young lady, a fine thing such as yourself has so much more potential in this world. Ladies like you should be in school learning to make the world a better place, not ravaging through drink and self-indulgence! And if not school you should be finding yourself a husband or wife! This really doesn’t suit you.” The young woman was now utterly confused. Why is this bear talking to me like she’s my mom? Did somebody slip something into my drink and now I’m hallucinating? Before long the party of two had arrived at Matilda’s cottage, a humble looking abode with smoke coming out of a chimney in the back and a comfortable looking porch in the front. “Let’s get you cleaned up now and perhaps something warm in your stomach, if it can handle it. How does that sound, kitten?” ‘Kitten’ blinked her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. The inside of the cottage looked nothing like she expected it too. They hadn’t entered a one room building like she expected, but they were now standing in the front hallway of what looked to be quite a large house. As her blurry vision cleared slightly, she saw a staircase leading up to a second floor, and several rooms connecting to each other on the first floor including a kitchen, living room, and what she presumed to be a dining room. “How… What… Wh-” “Hush now dearest, we need to get you cleaned up and in your crib! It’s way past your bed-time.” The young lady was now utterly confused, and almost completely convinced that what she was experiencing was either a hallucination or a drunkenly induced dream. “I’m never drinking again…” she muttered to herself, rather unconvincingly. “Well that’s a start at least! There’s plenty of other things I’ll be training out of you, but that's the one that’s definitely near the top of the list!” After wiping her foot-paws on the rug near the front of the door and locking the door behind her, the bear carried her charge up the stairs of her home and turned a corner, leading them into a white, spacious bathroom. Patterns of smiling ducks, sailors, and beach animals decorated the walls, and a large bathtub in the corner decorated the interior of the bathroom space. Before she had time to marvel at how clean and pristine the bear kept the place looking, Kitten found the bear was now tugging at her clothing, stripping her down naked. “What are you doing!? D-don’t take my clothes off!” The bear stopped for a moment, a patient expression on her muzzle as she set the girl down on the counter. Adopting a chiding tone, she explained, “Now now little one, I can’t get you cleaned up if you’re still wearing all this icky clothing! Not to mention they’re not fit for somebody as pretty as you. Be good now!” She shook her head, still protesting, “Stop touching my clothes you stupid bitch, I told you I didn’t want your help!” Suddenly the world shifted and turned almost upside down. Before she knew it, she was lying stomach down in the bear’s lap. “What are you- OWW!” Whap! went Matilda’s paw as she spanked her charge’s now exposed behind. She cried out, much to her own surprise as tears poured down her cheeks. Matilda tutted under her breath and continued to rhythmically deliver punishment onto her kitten’s behind. “Now look what I have to do, I don’t like giving spankings but you have simply given me no choice. I bet your mother would not approve of the potty mouth that you have developed either!” At this point the girl was now sobbing, snot coming out of her nostrils as the tears further smudged her already spread make-up. Matilda’s ears perked up, as she heard the human mutter and babble out what sounded like a pitiful apology. She quirked an eyebrow, and paused a little longer before she delivered the next smack on the quickly reddening cheeks of her charge. Well that was quick… She seems to be pretty malleable in this state… Hmm… Perhaps…? Speaking in a clear voice, she paused after her 19th spank and addressed the pitiful looking girl in her lap in an authoritative tone. “Now then, are you going to be speaking like that to Mama Bear ever again? Or do I have to show you more of what girls with potty mouths get?” Practically blubbering, the young woman shook her head and managed to stammer out, “N-no… I’m not going to s-speak like that to you again… P-promise!” She spoke, her words intermixed with hiccups and shaking sobs. Matilda realized that she was barely lucid as she lay completely still and limp in her lap, unable to resist the punishment that she had been delivering on her bare behind. She continued, maintaining the same dominating tone of voice as she further chastised, “I thought so! Drinking and touching yourself and staying out late at night, not to mention driving under the influence! You’ve been a very, very naughty girl and you’re going to get even more spanking if you keep this up! You’re lucky I’m letting you off tonight because you’re tired and probably are in great need of a bath and a good night’s sleep! Are you going to behave for me while I clean you up, young lady?” Nodding emphatically, the girl continued to sob and pant in Matilda’s lap. Matilda gently lifted her charge up and laid her head against her shoulder, standing up and supporting her underneath her bottom as she did so. “Now then, let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Gently carrying her over to the bathtub she deposited her inside, turning the water on and tugging off the young woman’s shirt, the last of the clothing that she had been wearing. “Now, what should we call you?” Matilda mused to herself out loud, as she turned on the warm water and adjusted the girl’s body into a rough sitting position, pouring some shampoo into the water as it began to rise up around her legs. “Hmm… I think Annie would suit you quite nicely, don’t you think so dear?” Annie’s eyes fluttered in response, and she groaned softly, her brow furrowing in a contorted, pained expression. A second trickle sounded in the air, and Matilda quickly realized that her blacked out charge was now adding her own urine to the bathwater. “Goodness me! It’s a good thing we got you in the bath before you soiled yourself! We’re going to have to do something about that if you’re going to be sleeping on my bed sheets! Now, I should still have the nursery set up.” Turning off the faucets she drained the bath before turning on the hot water once more. Retrieving a large rag she dipped it into the steaming water and started to gently wash the girl’s body, holding her various limbs and taking great care that her washing felt soft and gentle. The bear began to hum a tune under her breath as she worked away, speaking softly and cooing over Annie as she washed the make-up from her face and dabbed at her sensitive bits, ensuring that she was clean from top to bottom. “That should do it, all squeaky clean! Let’s get you dried then.” She turned off the water and pulled the plug, letting the bathwater and soap suds swirl away as she picked Annie up and out of the tub, laying her down on a towel she had spread on the bathroom floor. Annie could barely comprehend what was happening to her as Matilda ruffled her short, tomboyish hair in a towel and wrapped her up in the one she was laying on. Satisfied that she was dry, the bear scooped her up, still wrapped in the towel and carried her out of the bathroom. Walking down the hallway she took a left before she entered a room that Annie thought must have been a figment of her imagination. It looked like a regular nursery, except every piece of furniture, toys, and even the diapers beneath the changing table seemed to be oversized. Annie blinked twice, her vision still blurry, and a singular thought bubbled up to the surface of her drunken mind, “I crashed my car, hit my head, and now I’m seeing things…”

IT: Infant Tech By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Bolt Chapter 1: The Office Bolt readjusted his glasses. This was a nervous habit of his, which he would perform with relative frequency whenever he was working with unruly code. Sat in front of his desk, garbed in his normal office attire of dress shirt, black dress pants, classy shoes, and stylish bowtie, the husky was deeply immersed within the contents of his computer screen. The husky’s office cubicle was relatively orderly; a Newton's cradle and Rubik’s Cube served as the only available knick-knacks. The husky knew full well that too much desk clutter was a prime environment for distraction. Sometimes, however, a little distraction was necessary to allow his mind to wander just far enough for him to be able to get some perspective. He had been staring at his computer screen for about two hours straight at that point, and despite the blue light filter in his glasses he could feel his warm, brown eyes beginning to dry up just a little bit. A semicolon… really… that was the error? A sense of weariness suddenly overcame the husky. Moving his right paw, he delicately stroked his keyboard a few times until he had typed in the correction to his code. Bolt leaned back in his chair. He pulled down softly on his one droopy ear, another habit he often performed when deep in coding contemplation. Unseen, conveniently hidden in the break room by drawn blinds, two felines stood holding respective mugs of coffee. A caracal and tiger, the two giant cat species had their attention focused on the husky through a break in the blinds which the tiger held slightly open with an extended claw. Yuri’s had a singular protracted claw, his other paw holding the mug of joe in his paw with a firm, confident grip. Cinder, on the other hand, appeared to be every semblance of calm, cool, and collected. He lounged leisurely against the countertop, gazing down the bridge of his nose at the same husky that had just now caught his feline companion’s attention. “Another office crush, Yuri?” Withdrawing his gaze momentarily from gazing between the break in the blinds, the tiger gave the caracal his best withering look. Which, coming from a tiger, is quite an intimidating experience. The desert cat was left unphased, however, as he had been at the end of such an unflattering glance more often than not. Idly, he took a sip from his coffee mug and cocked his head to the side, his long, pointed ears flopping to the side dramatically. “Oh don’t look so grumpy, kitty cat. Shall I bring out the ball of yarn so you can feel better?” Yuri, who had grown used to the unwavering confidence that the caracal seemed to have a true abundance of, chose to ignore the comment and turn his attention back to staring at the husky. From his vantage point, he could see that the husky appeared to be well distracted and in the midst of work. Having only recently quit his temping position at the company, the husky was now able to exercise his full work ethic with the accompaniment of financial compensation. At this rate, he would be employee of the month in no time. Yuri’s golden, feline eyes pierced through the husky with a predator-like ferocity. Something inside of the tiger told him that not all was what it seemed with the newest member of IT. It was while Cinder was idly browsing through his phone, disappointed that he was unable to get a rise out of his tiger friend when Yuri gasped. Cinder knew this was important. Deftly placing his mug of coffee on the counter he pushed himself off the counter in a quiet, controlled leap landing right next to the tiger. “What is it?” He whispered softly, his feline instincts kicking in as the two cats’ slitted eyes narrowed as they gazed at the oblivious canine. Bolt sighed, stood up, and turned around to pick up a small laptop on the desk behind him. As he did so, an uncharacteristically large bulge in his rear end pressed against the seam of his pants. Cinder’s mouth dropped wide open, an uncharacteristically surprised face coloring the feline’s sharp, noble features. Yuri simply smiled, chuckling softly under his breath which came as a deep rumble inside of the massive cat’s throat. He spoke under his breath. “We got ourselves another one…” “This is the second one this month! How do they keep falling into our paws like this?” Yuri shook his head, a gratified smile across his muzzle as he placed a heavy, reassuring paw on the smaller cat’s shoulder. “Alright, like we did last time. I’ve still got the carseat set up and he looks pretty gullible. I think we’ll be having some good fun tonight, kitten.” Cinder blushed slightly towards the end of the tiger’s comment, knowing full well what the larger cat was referring to. It wasn’t so long ago that he had been the subject of the tiger’s cleverly designed trap. Yuri turned around, in a series of purposeful movements he drained the remainder of his coffee into the sink before depositing his mug on the dirtied dish rack. Taking out his car keys, he placed them on the countertop before departing. His striped tail floating majestically behind him, the muscular feline shouldered his way through the door of the office kitchenette and made his way over to the husky’s cubicle. Cinder had picked up the car keys, slyly lowering them into his pocket before silently exiting after the tiger, making his way towards the building’s garage level. The image of confidence, Yuri loomed over the husky casting a shadow over him. Bolt took quick notice of this, and turned around in his seat to gaze up frightfully at the intimidating fur in front of him, blinking several times. “Uhm… Can I-” “Yes, you can. I’m Yuri. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The cat extended a massive paw towards the husky. Bolt, recovering quickly, smiled in kind and took it on his own, giving it a firm squeeze as he replied with a clarity in his voice that took even him by surprise. “Hi Yuri, I’m Bolt. The pleasure is all mine.” Confident little scrappy mutt, isn’t he? Ohhh I like him… This should be fun! Yuri’s smile broadened, now feeling a sense of genuine delight at having witnessed a confident introduction accompanied by a firm handshake. He didn’t much like wimps, even though he did enjoy putting them in their place. Cinder had shown significantly less bravado than the canine in front of him, and only after he had discovered the truth behind the tiger’s intentions did he warm up. No, this pup has spunk! It’ll be even more fun to see him crawl now… Still smiling, the tiger motioned with a jerk of his head towards the elevator that led to the garage level below. “Bolt, I’ve got a few computer towers in my car that I worked on over the weekend. I really would have no trouble transporting them myself, but if you come along it’ll only take one trip. How about we use it as an excuse to take a break from work with a little aerobic exercise and a friendly chat, hmm?” Understanding quickly, Bolt nodded and smiled congenially. Closing down his computer, he stood up and nodded indicating that the tiger should lead the way. Yuri turned, and began to make his way towards the elevator. Glancing back briefly, to ensure that Bolt was coming along. Given the size of the cat, Bolt had to take a step and a half for every step the tiger took. The subtle waddle the husky was unconsciously exhibiting slightly was now more apparent. Suspicions confirmed, the tiger turned to face forward with a look of satisfaction on his muzzle. “It’ll be the grey minivan, the company likes its Chrystlers.” Yuri spoke, his tone a low rumble as the two entered the elevator and the tiger pressed a button marked ‘G’ while Bolt nodded in response. The two stood silently in the elevator, waiting patiently for the lift to descend down to the parking garage several levels beneath the ground floor. The company building itself was relatively massive, sporting fourteen proud stories above and three below. The two were stationed on the fifth floor, so the descent was relatively brief. Ding! The elevator doors opened to reveal rows of sparsely populated parking spots, the smell of concrete with a hint of car exhaust hitting their nostrils as Yuri led the way. “I’m parked towards the back.” He stated simply, his smirk hidden behind his turned back as he heard the husky behind him pick up speed to keep pace with him. Everything is running smoothly… “Alright, take a look at what I’ve got here for you!” Speaking confident, he opened the passenger side door with a flourish to reveal what was inside. It took Bolt a moment to process what he was seeing. In front of him appeared to be a baby’s carseat, except no ordinary one. This particular seat looked large enough to comfortably seat him, with an impressively robust five point harness that looked as if not even Yuri would be able to break through it. Stunned, the husky stood open mouthed for a few seconds while he tried to process what he was looking at. This was exactly the opportunity that Yuri and Cinder were looking for. “Now, before we get you snuggly buckled up for your car ride little guy, let’s check something really quick.” Unable to react in time, Yuri placed his hands underneath the husky’s armpits and raised him up effortlessly. Taken by surprise, Bolt let out a whimper while his legs dangled helplessly behind him. As suddenly as he had been picked up, he felt something fiddling with the front of his belt buckle. Twisting around, his cheeks burning bright red, he was able to catch a glimpse of the Caracal he had seen wandering around the office earlier trying to undo his pants. At last he succeeded accompanied by an exclamation. “Aha! There we are.” His pants now around his ankles, Bolt’s choice of underwear that morning was now on full display for both of the large cats to examine. “Just as I thought, we have a little puppy on our hands.” Yuri stated, a condescending but not unkindly tone in his voice. Bolt was now blushing furiously, his tail curled between his legs in a vain attempt to hide the large, white diaper that hugged his waist snuggly. It was apparent to both of the onlookers that it was designed with both comfort and absorbance in mind, as a trail of puppy paws ran from the front middle all the way through the back. “You won’t be needing these, I don’t think.” As Bolt spluttered, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and smallness washing over him as he continued to be held up in the air, Cinder delicately disentangled his pants from his ankles. Now, he wore only his work shirt and sneakers, which made him feel incredibly exposed. The tiger looked him up and down, an expression of approval across his muzzle while Cinder neatly folded the husky’s pants and placed them under his right arm. “Cinder, do me the favor of checking the puppy’s diaper, would you?” At the direct mention of his padding, the husky’s ears folded against the top of his head. Tail tucked between his legs, cheeks burning, and ears pinned, the canine was the spitting image of an utterly flustered pup. Grinning, Cinder placed an authoritative paw over the front of the dog’s thick padding, squeezing gently before cupping the back in turn. Pressing it upwards, as if to further remind Bolt of what he was wearing, the caracal shook his head as he replied. “Still dry, surprisingly enough,” Cinder commented. “Well then, I think we should do something about that,” said Yuri, giving the husky a large, toothy smile before depositing him into the oversized booster seat. “W-wait a second! I一mmpf!” Bolt, having finally been able to find his voice, barely managed to splutter out a complete sentence before he was silenced by Cinder, who had apparently been waiting for such a moment. Crossing his eyes, Bolt looked down to see what had interrupted his exclamation while Cinder tightened something behind his head. His vision obscured by the caracal’s red-orange fur, the husky only became aware that he had been fully buckled into the carseat when he felt the harness tighten over his shoulders, waist, and onto the front of his diaper pressing it up against him. The husky’s heart was now beating quickly, limbs flailing. As if in anticipation of this, Yuri swiftly grabbed each of his wrists and looped them through soft, padded cuffs. His wrists now suspended by his head, his arms held upwards in an incredibly vulnerable position, he found that he was no longer able to struggle as effectively as before. Cinder had grabbed his ankles and pulled them through a similar set of cuffs that prevented him from raising his ankles more than a few inches away from the bottom of the carseat. Both cats stepped back and took a moment to admire their handiwork. Bolt looked down to see what they had done to him, a lock glowed softly from a small panel that served as the center-point for all of the buckles. From what the husky could gather, the locking mechanism appeared to be activated by a touchscreen, the key to which he was sure was possessed only by the two felines in front of him. “Aww, I think he looks pretty cute! That pacifier won’t let much more than a whimper through, pup. So you can whine all you want on the ride home!” Cinder extended a wiry arm forward, gently booping the tip of the husky’s snoot. Yuri appeared pleased as well, his arms crossed and looking down at the incapacitated fur as if he were appraising a prized possession. Speaking softly, and without breaking his gaze at the pup, he placed a car key into Cinder’s paws. “Yes, I think he does. Take the highway, kitten.” It was Cinder’s turn to blush, which he barely managed to conceal as he lowered his vision and nodded, opening the door next to Bolt’s and sitting himself down in front of the wheel. Moving with the impressive display of control that all large cats appeared to inherently possess, Yuri sat down in the seat next to Cinder's, looking back at Bolt in the rear view mirror. “I encourage you to behave, puppy. This will be fun.” With that statement hanging in the air, Cinder pulled out of the parking garage and had merged into city traffic within a few minutes. Bolt was still trying to process what had just happened to him. The two cats had seemingly quickly found out about his little secret before he had had the chance to react. He was now pacified, gagged, restrained, and being transported to who-knows-where. Despite himself, to make matters even worse, he was beginning to feel himself become aroused at the restrictive tightness that five-point harness seemed to impose on the front of his padding. Wrapping over his shoulder, with three straps ensuring that his waist and diaper were snuggly pressed against him, there seemed to be no hope of escape. He was completely at the mercy of the felines sitting in the front seats of the car. The car ride passed in silence, Bolt pulled helplessly at the restraints holding his limbs hostage but to no avail. Yuri would occasionally look up in the rearview mirror, Bolt could see that his eyes were wrinkled as if he were smiling, hidden from view from the husky’s limited line of sight. Whatever the tiger was thinking, it was causing him great pleasure.

Curse of the Crinkle Crate Composed by Horatio Husky Featuring and Commissioned by Kazard the Fox! Chapter 1 The Box I… Want… Couch Time… Now… were the thoughts of a certain blonde-haired fox, as he absentmindedly fumbled with the keys to his small, cozy home. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyelids half open in a vacant stare as he maneuvered his key into the lock of his front door. The day had been absolutely miserable, all of his clients had been in a bad temper when he spoke with them about their problems, and one of them even seemed to believe that the fox didn’t really know what he was doing. Of course, he knew what he was doing! He’d graduated top of his class by no small miracle, the fox was very talented at his work, but the lack of appreciation and frustration that was thrust upon him by his clients was not something studying could have prepared him for. At last, the key turned, and the door swung wide open, shouldering his bag he strode inside and carelessly dropped it in the front hallway, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him with a click, locking it once more. Give… Me… That… Couch… thought the fox once more, as he strode into his living room. However, his couch did not seem to be on the agenda just yet, for the fox almost tripped over a wooden box in the center of the room. Kaz was taken aback, how had this gotten in his home? He didn’t remember lugging a rather plain, heavy looking wooden box into his home. Its dimensions were around two feet by two feet, and a foot and a half tall. Kneeling down, his tail now twitching with apparent interest and curiosity he inspected it closer to find that its lid was hinged, with the front opening to the container facing towards him. What on earth… Did somebody break in and leave this here? He thought to himself, as he reached forward with a paw and tentatively opened the strange box. The lid thumped onto his carpet as he gazed into what was held within the strange item, and was even more confused to see that the box only contained two items in it. A thick square of plastic upon closer inspection Kaz found to be a white, adult diaper, and a note next to it, written in fancy cursive. He picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he perused through a short poem, a strange feeling of warmth he didn’t recognize bubbling up in his insides as he did so. For a year and a day obedient shall you be, To the rules and whims of the box at your knee, Letters and rules shall be provided from these wooden confines, Giving you instructions, tasks, items, and lines, And lest you not listen to my behest, Shall you not have your day-to-day be the best! For control and independence are no longer yours From now you’ll always be clad in diapers! Diapers? Control? Is this all some sort of prank that got delivered into my house that one of my friends managed to sneak in? He turned the note over and found that more was written on the back of it, this time not in the mysterious cursive font as on the front. The rules are simple, Kazard. For a year and a day you will be completely unable to control your bladder nor your bowel, making it that at any time whatsoever, you will completely and utterly mess and wet yourself anywhere you are. Within this box, you will find your solution to this new conundrum in your life, which you have agreed to participate in by opening this box. Whenever you open this box you will be supplied with plain white diapers perfectly matched to handle whatever punishment you give them. It is recommended that you also invest in other supplies related to padding, such as powder and anti-rash cream, but those are up to your discretion. You may try and not wear your diapers, but you will find that it is wiser to comply with the rules and keep yourself nice and secure; your continence will not return either if you do not obey the rules set before you. If you wish to communicate with the box, you must do so through a bargain written on a note to express your wishes. However, be warned: the box is liable to interpret and balance any request or boon as it wishes if whatever you offer is not of equal value, so it may be wisest to obey as instructed and keep yourself diapered at all times of the day, otherwise, the consequences will be severe. With that, we hope you enjoy your next trip around the sun padded up! This has to be a joke… Boxes that interpret poetry and supply diapers whenever opened? This isn’t even a funny prank, this is pathetic. The fox dropped the diaper and note back into the box with contempt, what a stupid thing to waste his time with. He got up, the couch now forgotten as his stomach rumbled its hunger aloud to the room. He padded over to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and rummaging through his dry food cabinet, retrieving a large bag of chips. He held the bag in his maw as he stretched, reaching up to the higher shelf to grab himself a chocolate bar. It was just out of his reach, and he strained, leaning against the counter to support his weight as he grasped after his sweet. The counter must have been wet, however, for he looked down as he felt something damp against him. The bag of chips dropped out of his mouth and onto the counter below him. The counter hadn’t been wet, no. It was he who had gotten wet.

Prologue: A small group of four students was hiking in the forest. Diane, Daniel, Tessie and Thomas liked hiking, they often went on tours and they managed to sweep the entire surroundings of their town. However today Tessie stopped and stared at a manor on the nearby hill. “Hey, guys. Look at the manor; if I’m right, there were ruins last year there.” “Right, there is a ruin sign on my map,” Daniel fetched a map from his backpack and looked at it. “Let’s have a closer look at the manor,” Diane wasn’t able to resist the temptation; she was quite a curious girl. Her companions nodded and they headed towards the mysterious manor. The building looked well maintained as if it had been built the day before. “I don’t know; something is wrong with this manor. Maybe it is a bad premonition only but I’d advise to turn away and leave as quickly as possible,” Tessie turned to her boyfriend Thomas but he shook his head. “Don’t be a coward, love. What can happen in a manor. We aren’t in a B class horror movie though.” “Okay then, let’s go in,” she nodded and stepped forward. Daniel opened the massive gate and entered the large hall. He looked around and stopped dead in his track. The hall was clean and equipped like one in a museum or gallery. The walls were framed by numerous pictures. There were three doors on the back wall and a small stand on his right. “Welcome in our special manor. Come closer please,” an old lady was sitting behind the counter. “Is this a museum, madam?” Diane turned to the lady. “Not exactly, my dear,” the lady replied. “Have a look at the pictures in the front hall. It is free and you can have a tour if you are interested then.” “Thanks madam,” Diane smiled at the lady and stepped forward when she felt a pressure in her bladder. “Excuse me,” she headed towards the door marked by the familiar toilet sign. When she emerged from the toilet, the group walked over to the left side wall to start watching the pictures. Although the pictures were artworks, they weren’t too interesting. There were portraits and landscapes hanging on the walls. The group passed the entire hall and Diane almost headed toward the exit. She didn’t understand the words “special manor” when she looked back and spotted a portrait they had passed earlier. “Hey guys, do I see right? A lady was depicted in that picture before,” she pointed at a picture on the back wall.” To her utter surprise a small toddler girl was depicted in the same picture. Daniel, Tessie and Thomas looked back and they started in utter surprise at the portrait. All of sudden the toddler girl in the picture changed back into the lady. “Madam, could you explain what happened?” Daniel turned to the old lady. “Of course, young man,” she smiled and continued, “picture change and people change, too.” At the same moment she disappeared in a fog and seconds later a small girl about three year old was standing in front of them. “Follow me please if you are interested,” she stood up and headed towards a door on the back wall and opened it. “Hey guys, I’m getting worried,” Tessie protested again but she caught the gaze of Thomas and got silent. They followed the small girl and entered the door. They found themselves in a small corridor leading to the right. There was a label on the opposite wall. “WELCOME IN THE TODDLER MANOR. ENJOY YOUR STAY AND THE CARELESS TODDLER LIFE. THERE IS NO WAY BACK!” The door behind them closed. When Tessie looked back, she realized there was no handle on the door. [If you are interested in an interactive version of this story, feel free to play my small video game] Part 1: A cold chill ran down Tessie’s spine. She wasn’t very courageous at all and got quite nervous. “Hey, guys; I warned you. What will we do now?” “Calm down, love. Consider it a new adventure. Haven’t you read some comics? Imagine that we are about to be inside that comic.” Thomas smiled at her. More than worried, he was curious and so was Diane. “Let’s continue,” she turned to the rest of the group and stepped forward. However she stopped and rubbed her eyes. The end of the corridor was obscured by a strange fog. Nevertheless, they didn’t have any option left but to head towards the fog. “What is it?” Daniel also got a bit nervous but still not worried,”hopefully it doesn’t hurt us.” He almost pushed Diane forwards but it wouldn’t be a gentleman’s behavior. Instead, he courageously walked directly into the fog. Diane didn’t hesitate and followed him. Thomas shrugged only and stepped forward, holding Tessie at hand to encourage her. The fog wasn’t thick at all; it looked like a thin wall. However Daniel stopped dead in his tracks behind it. The corridor grew suddenly and it seemed to be more than ten feet high. Daniel looked back and spotted a small toddler following him. “Diane, it you?” he was shocked by his speech. “Of couwse. Hey, you are a wittwe boy. Why the corridor dat big?” Diane looked around in utter shock. She almost laughed when she spotted Daniel but she realized she was little too. “Danny, you diapee,” she noticed the bulge in his pants but she reached down and felt the same bulge. She was wearing a toddler girl dress and thick tights. Tessie and Thomas emerged from the fog and they also stopped and looked at Diane and Daniel. “Hey, what you …?” Thomas looked at Diane and Daniel. He still was holding Tessie at hand and turned his head; he spotted a cute little girl. “Me little giwl,” Tessie announced innocently and smiled at her friends. Her fear and worries disappeared. The four former students were watching each other for awhile. They recognized each other but some parts of their minds looked like they were switched off. Their speech changed into a preschooler’s one and they soon found out about more limitations. Tessie’s bladder was full when they entered the manor but she didn’t use the toilet then. Now the urge was strong and her bladder muscles responded instantly; they relaxed and a stream of pee soaked her diaper. “Me wet,” she announced as innocently as before and didn’t care about it. Suddenly Diane realized that they should continue. There was another door in front of them and Diane opened it; however she hardly reached the handle. As they passed the door, it closed and there was no handle on the other side. The group found itself in a long corridor with doors on both sides. There were labels next to the doors and Daniel tried to read them: “Me … not … read,” he was a bit taken aback but he didn’t care, just like a real toddler would do. He didn’t hesitate and opened the first door on his left. He spotted a large library. An older lady was sitting behind a counter and she stopped him immediately: “Hey, what do you want here? This is a library. Can you read?” Daniel shook his head, stepped back and closed the door. He opened the next door and spotted a storeroom. The shelves on the back wall were stocked by food, drinks and diapers. The next room was a surprise. It was a large hall. There were tables and chests along the walls and a lot of different items spread on the floor and on the tables. Diane was quite curious and tried to open some chests. They were either locked or empty. “Me … afwaid,” Tessie suddenly got an unpleasant feeling and hurried up back to the door. The rest of the group followed her and they opened another door on the opposite wall. “Welcome to the Toddler Manor,” a little girl was standing near the door. “What … toddlew mano?” Thomas was surprised and stared at the girl. “Who you?” “I am Susie and this is Eric,” the girl pointed at a small boy. “You are new here, isn’t you?” “Yeah, we … new,” Diane nodded. “If you need a diaper change, go to the nurse over there,” Susan pointed at another door on their right. “You find food, drinks and diapers in the storeroom across the corridor.” “Danks,” Tessie smiled at Susie. Daniel also smiled at Susan and Eric. He somehow liked the place but deep in his mind he felt that something was wrong. They were new here but how did they get into the manor? His thoughts were interrupted by a pressure in his bladder. He instinctively relaxed the muscles and flooded his diaper. However he ignored it for that moment and turned to Eric. “How … we ... get. How … we … leave?” “Go to the library and you find everything there.” “We … not … read.” “Go to the challenge room and get the smart elixir. You will learn reading and proper speech.” “Challe … challe?” Daniel was confused. He didn’t understand the strange word. “The large hall across the corridor. Search the chests but be careful. There could be surprises inside.” Daniel nodded and headed towards the door and his mates followed him. They entered the challenge room and started a thorough search. They found more chests than before. It was a big surprise; did they appear out of nowhere? Unfortunately, Eric was right when he warned them. As Diane opened a chest, it was empty and a loud scary howl echoed in the room. Diane stepped back in utter shock. She suddenly felt a stream of pee hitting the front of her diaper and a mass of poop filling its back. “Me … pee,” Tessie announced in another accident. “We … must … find … elixiw,” Diane calmed down and continued searching. After two more attempts she opened a chest and pulled out a vial. “Me … elixir …,” she drank up half of the vial and passed it to Daniel. Daniel finished the vial. “Diane, what happened?” his speech improved instantly. “I don’t know. Give me the vial please,” Diane took the vial and read the label: “SMART ELIXIR. 2 doses.” “Wow, I can read again.” “Elixiw … me?” Tessie looked at Diane. “Wait,” Diane reached and pulled out another vial. Tessie drank a half of it and passed it to Thomas. “Wow, I can speak normally,” Tessie smiled at Thomas, “What about you, Thomas?” “Yeah, it works but I still can’t believe it. Where the hell are we?” “Let’s hurry up to the library now,” Diane replied, “we’ll find some information there.” She stepped forward when she realized her diaper, “We have to go to the nursery first and get diaper changes.” “Do we really need them?” Thomas objected but he felt a stream of pee between his legs. “Oh no. I can speak normally but I’ve just peed in my diaper.” The nurse was a lovely older lady, “Welcome, my littles. Let’s change these soiled diapers,” she pointed at a changing table. Diane jumped up onto the table first and spread her legs. “Well, you know what to do,” the lady smiled at Diane and pulled down her tights. Tessie, Daniel and Thomas also jumped onto the table, one by one, and the nurse changed their diapers. As the nurse finished, Daniel stepped forward, “I can’t wait to read the books in the library.”

Prologue: “Mirjam Hellberg, you have been convicted of witchcraft and sentenced to death by burning,” the voice of the Head Inquisitor sounded around the crowded place in Uddevalla. The crowd roared in agreement. “Burn her … she is a witch … burn her.” The executioner's assistant was approaching the bonfire and holding a burning torch in his hand. A young girl was tied up to a stake in the middle of the bonfire and the Head Inquisitor was holding a crucifix in front of her face. “Admit your guilt and the Lord will save your soul from eternal damnation!” the Head Inquisitor continued. Mirjam didn’t say anything. She wasn’t aware of any witchcraft and she hardly was able to speak at all. Her body was badly hurt after all the torture she had to undergo. Although she never talked about witchcraft, the Inquisitor twisted her words. Now she was about to be burnt at stake in front of a cheering crowd. All she was able to do was shake her head. “You are stubborn and you will be swallowed by the deepest hell. Set off the fire!” The executioner’s assistant put the torch to the bonfire and the flames were approaching the poor girl. Mirjam was a religious girl and she didn’t understand why she was charged with witchcraft. She became an innocent victim of an evil plot but she couldn’t know it. She refused any charges and she started praying silently before the flames swallowed her body. ‘My Lord, help me please. I’m no witch and I always was your loyal servant. I don’t want to suffer anymore.’ To her utter surprise she heard a silent voice in her mind. ‘Mirjam, child, I know that you are an innocent victim and I will provide you a second chance to live. Even more, you get a gift from me.’ ‘Thank you, my Lord. You are that generous,” Mirjam answered silently. ‘You have been charged with witchcraft and you are not a witch. You will get actual witchcraft powers in your second life but promise me not to abuse those powers.’ ‘Oh no please. Won’t I be burnt at stake again?’ ‘No, Mirjam. You will spend your second life in another time when witches won’t be burnt at stake. Anyway, be careful.’ ‘I’m not sure, my Lord.’ ‘Don’t be afraid and trust me. The witchcraft powers aren’t bad as long as you don’t abuse them.’ ‘I promise, my Lord.’ a tear appeared in her eye. ‘See you in your second life, daughter.’ At that moment Mirjam passed out and she didn’t have to suffer the burning anymore. The crowd was disappointed when they didn’t hear any screams of pain. An hour later the fire went off and the remnants of Mirjam’s body were thrown into a nearby river. Part 1: Mirjam wasn’t able to understand where she was. There was darkness all around and she could hear a heartbeat nearby. She was squeezed into a small place and she hardly could move. Minutes later she realized something strange; she was not breathing. How was it possible? Everyone had to breathe to stay alive. All of sudden she realized the heartbeat; it was not hers. “How is my little girl doing?” A female voice sounded nearby but Mirjam heard it in a strange way as if it was coming from inside. She was a clever girl and put two and two together. The only option was that she was an unborn baby inside her new mother’s body. The place around her was a womb. Mirjam didn’t know about the human body but she had seen pregnant women and guessed what was going on. This was her new life and she had to start it from the very beginning. ‘My Lord, is this my new life?’ She decided to ask God first. ‘Yeah, my child. Get prepared to live in another and unknown world. You skipped 300 years and you are about to become the third child in a loving family. Don’t worry and enjoy it.’ ‘What about the gift, my Lord? I’m a bit afraid.’ ‘Don’t be afraid. You can read thoughts, talk without opening your mouth and you can move some items. None of this should be dangerous.’ ‘Thank you, my Lord.’ Mirjam suddenly got curious about the new life. What changed in 300 years? How will her new family accept her and her new powers? She also didn’t know how much time was left until labor. “Hey, Gudrun, do you have a name for our baby? You have been thinking of it for two months already,” a man’s voice sounded from outside. “Olaf, I can’t decide and I even don’t know if it is a boy or a girl.” All of sudden Mirjam didn’t resist the temptation and decided to try out her new powers. ‘A girl,’ she told her mom silently. ‘Mirjam.’ Gudrun was taken aback by the voice in her mind. What should it mean? She never heard voices before. Was it possible or was she getting insane? She startled but she continued instantly. “It is a girl and I have a wonderful name for her, Mirjam.” “Mirjam is a wonderful name but how do you know the gender? You didn’t want to know it though when you were at the ultrasonic exam.” “I know it. Trust me.” Gudrun suddenly was sure but she didn’t know why. Although the voice was strange, she didn’t worry. Mirjam was taken aback by the unknown words. What was an ultrasonic exam? She didn’t have the slightest idea and she was getting curious and wanted to learn more. However, who could tell her about it? “Mommy, mommy; will I have a sister?” an excited childish voice sounded from outside and Mirjam smiled. It definitely was a little girl. “Yeah, Kirsten; you’ll get a baby sister soon.” “Can I listen to her, mommy?” “Of course, my little one.” Mirjam felt a pressure from outside and she realized that something pressed against her mom’s belly; it was Kirsten’s head probably. Mirjam was amused by the little girl and she almost talked to her but it wasn’t a good idea. Instead, Mirjam moved her leg and pressed against the head from inside. “Mommy, she kicked me,” Kirsten laughed. “Babies sometimes do it, Kirsten,” Gudrun’s voice sounded amused. Meanwhile Mirjam felt an urge to pee. She got worried; how could she pee in her present condition inside her mother’s body? However, she didn’t have any option left but to relax the muscles. Just like every unborn baby, she peed into the amniotic fluid and wasn’t aware of it. The little girl ran away and Gudrun was alone. She started thinking of the mysterious voice. Was she getting insane? She lied down on the couch and collected her courage. She wanted to ask the mysterious voice but Mirjam was quicker. ‘Mommy, you are not getting insane,' the voice sounded in her mind. ‘How do you know about it? Who are you?’ Gudrun asked the voice silently. ‘Who? I am Mirjam, your daughter.’ ‘What does it mean? How can we talk?’ ‘I prayed to our Lord and He was generous and provided me with this gift. Sorry but I read your worries about getting insane.’ Gudrun was a religious woman and she was willing to believe in miracles; however she never experienced an actual miracle. 'Is it a miracle?’ ‘I don’t know, mom.’ ‘Mirjam, you sound like an adult,’ Gudrun suddenly realized that the baby inside her had an adult mind. How should an unborn baby know about God and miracles? ‘Mom, it is a bit complicated; could you accept me like a smart baby and not ask about my past?’ ‘Past? Did you reincarnate?’ ‘Yeah but don’t ask me more please.’ ‘Okay, you will be my beloved baby.’ ‘Thanks, mom. When will I be born?’ ‘In two weeks I think.’ ‘I can’t wait to see you, mom.’ ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you as well, my little one.’ Gudrun relaxed and her eyes closed. In her dreams she saw little Mirjam talking with her and a smile appeared on her lips. While she was napping, the little Kirsten sneaked to her and put her head on her belly: “Sis, do you hear me?” Kirsten whispered so Gudrun couldn’t hear her. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘How can I hear you? Is it magic?’ Kirsten talked silently in her mind. She didn’t whisper anymore. ‘Yeah, it is magic,’ Mirjam replied. She realized that Kirsten was a little girl and she believed in fairy tales. Magic would be an acceptable explanation. ‘Will we talk more when you are born? It will be a fairy tale.’ ‘I will talk with you as much as you want. I’m your sister though.’ ‘Will we play?’ ‘Wait. I can’t play with you too much while I am a little baby. When I grow up, we can play together.’ ‘I love you sis.’ ‘I love you too,’ Mirjam was emotional; her new life seemed to be much better than the previous one; however she was worried about the changes in her new world. Kirsten’s eyes closed and she dozed off with her head sitting on Gudrun’s belly. Mirjam also was tired and she fell asleep.

Prologue: The unpleasant and cold wind was blowing through the countryside and leaned to the windows, shabby walls and roofs. The wind driven heavy raindrops kept hitting the windows . It was a gloomy November morning. An old building was hidden in a forest and few people knew about it. A barrier blocked the entrance road and the label next to the barrier discouraged eventual visitors from an attempt to enter the area. If a visitor had the courage and ignored that warning, they would find a high fence with an iron gate, cameras above the gate and the former monastery behind the fence. There was no label on the gate. A card reader and video intercom near the gate were the only ways to get inside or ask for it. The monastery looked abandoned from outside but the security measures didn’t match that image. Most of the windows were grated and all doors were either locked or bricked up. There was another surprise hidden behind the main entrance. The shabby outside look would change into a modern and well equipped mental clinic. However, that clinic was quite different from all other ones. It was the final destination of those who entered it as patients. To be exact; the clients were no patients and they didn’t suffer from any mental disease. The only reason to commit someone to the clinic was an effort to get rid of them for whatever reason. The clinic was private and the fees for keeping a person there were quite high. Despite the high taxes the clinic was profitable and the working conditions of the staff were better than in every other similar mental clinic. There were comfortable rooms for every staff member in the private wing; an everyday commute to work was uncomfortable for most of them and they also were a partially closed community. Unlike the staff, the clients didn’t live in comfortable conditions. They were restrained almost 24 hours a day, diapered and sometimes tormented by the staff. They could spend several hours watching TV or talking together in the common rooms but it was conditioned by good behavior. Otherwise they were strapped down to their beds. The awards for good behavior were rare but the punishments were quite often. The mildest ones were tickling or diuretics. More serious punishments were laxatives, spanking or an isolation room. However the clients were afraid of the ghost chambers in the basement. The basement was a mysterious place and it was full of unknown entities. They looked like translucent black clouds and some people stated they had seen faces with red glaring eyes on those clouds. The entities appeared in different places but there were three rooms in the basement far corner where they appeared regularly and often. The corner probably was near a portal they passed from underground. Those three rooms were called ghost chambers. Nobody knew exactly what happened in the chambers but a night spent there turned the victim into a wreck without their own will. The staff used to show those victims to other clients to warn them. On rare occasions the entities appeared outside the basement. Fortunately the only consequence was fright; however both clients and staff were afraid of those events but nobody found a way to avoid them. Our visitor probably would turn on their heel and run away from that terrible place; it didn’t have an official name but people called it Clinic of Oblivion.

Part 1: The bell rang and the little Amy hurried up to the door followed by her mother. “Hi Peggy,” the little girl stretched her hands to the tall girl standing in front of the door. Peggy lifted her in her arms and got a tight hug from Amy. “Hello Amy,” Peggy kissed Amy’s forehead. She was Amy’s babysitter and now they had the whole afternoon and evening ahead; Amy’s parents went to a party and they had to return about midnight. Amy was a cheerful and intelligent little girl; she knew the alphabet and numbers at the age of three and she was able to read simple sentences but, on the other hand, she still was in diapers. Amy occasionally asked for potty to poop but she mostly used her diaper. It was unclear if she refused potty training out of some kind of rebellion or she considered diapers comfortable. She always knew when she needed a change and she was able to prepare everything for the change. Amy also was too clumsy to dress and undress herself. Peggy was a social sciences student. She lived in an apartment together with two roommates; they also were social science students and they supported each other. Peggy considered babysitting a part of her practices; Amy loved her and they had lots of fun together. Peggy’s roommates teased her about her idea but she ignored their comments. “Peggy, Peggy, would we go to the playground?” Amy made puppy eyes at her babysitter. “Of course, Amy. It’s a sunny day today. Let’s go inside now,” Peggy carried Amy and put her on the floor again. “Okay, we can leave now and we’ll be back at midnight,” Amy’s mom smiled at Peggy and the little girl. Amy apparently ignored her parents and focused on Peggy. “Amy, you are wearing your pajamas; did you wake up from your nap?” “Yeah,” the little girl nodded and yawned. “Well, you should get dressed then. Let me check your diaper now.” Peggy reached down and felt the heavy and soaked garment between Amy’s legs. Amy turned around and ran away; she headed towards her bedroom. Peggy smiled only and followed Amy slowly. The little girl was carrying a clean diaper and she hopped onto the changing table and relaxed. “I need a clean diaper,” Amy grinned at her babysitter and spread her legs. Peggy pulled down the pajama pants and untaped the wet package. “Amy, you are a clever girl and you even brought me a clean diaper. Wouldn’t you like to potty train?” Peggy was cleaning Amy’s crotch. “Why? You change me when I need it, don’t you?” “Are you about to wear diapers forever?” “Why not?” Peggy shrugged only; Amy apparently didn’t intend to potty train. She took the clean diaper from Amy, diapered the little girl and dressed her into a T-shirt and jeans. “Well, let’s go,” Peggy took the diaper bag, a bottle of juice and some small snacks along with the toys. While walking through the park Amy turned to Peggy: “Peggy, do you know what I want?” “No idea.” “I’d like to be the big girl like you are.” “Why?” “I’d like to know how it is.” “Wait and you grow up.” “No, I want it now.” “How do you want to do it? It has to be a miracle.” “Yeah; let’s find a magic gem.” “What? Magic gems don’t exist.” “They do. Didn’t you read that fairy-tale?” “Yeah but this is a fairy tale. The magic gems exist in fairy tales only.” Amy shrugged and they got to the playground. She headed towards the sandbox and Peggy gave her the toys. Peggy sat down on the bench, pulled out her mobile and started chatting with her friends while watching Amy and the other children. Amy seemed to have fun. “Peggy, I’m hungry and thirsty,” Amy interrupted Peggy’s chatting. “Hey, Amy; didn’t you forget something?” “Oh, sorry. Can I have some snacks and juice please?” “Of course, here you are,” Peggy gave her a snack and the baby bottle. Amy was able to drink from a cup but it was better to use the baby bottle outside. Amy ate the snack, took the bottle and started sucking on the nipple. Sucking was pleasant and comfortable but it made Amy pee instinctively. She felt the diaper getting warm and heavy; however it wasn’t soaked yet. She passed the bottle back to Peggy and ran away to the sandbox “Thanks Peggy.” About an hour later Amy ran to Peggy again: “Juice please, Peggy.” “Of course, princess,” Peggy passed her the bottle. “Peggy, I’m all wet,” Amy announced when she finished the bottle. Peggy smiled only and put Amy onto the bench to change her. “It’s getting late Amy; we should go home.” “Five minutes please,” Amy begged and Peggy smiled only. However the other children left for home and Amy was alone. Back at home Peggy led Amy to the bathroom to wash her hands and face. “Amy, do you need a change?” “Not yet,” Amy shook her head. “Okay, let’s have our dinner now.” Peggy helped Amy eat even if Amy was quite capable of eating on her own. Amy somehow liked the care and Peggy also liked to feed her. After dinner Peggy washed the dishes while Amy watched a child show on TV. She felt the pressure in her guts and considered asking Peggy; however she didn’t want to miss the show and relaxed plainly. When Peggy came to the living room, the smell revealed the condition of Amy’s diaper. “Hey, little princess; time to have a nice warm bath and go to bed.” Amy shook her head but she yawned at the same time. Peggy lifted her and carried her to the changing table. The diaper was overfilled and Peggy had to clean Amy thoroughly before putting her into the bathtub. Amy seemed to be tired and Peggy lifted her from the bathtub, put a thick night time diaper on her and dressed her in a pink onesie. “Good night, princess,” she put Amy into the crib and took Amy’s clothes. The T-shirt was dirty and she put it into the laundry basket. When she took the jeans, something fell out of the pocket. Peggy lifted it and stared at a small pendant with a green glistening gem. “Amy, what is this?” Peggy asked the little girl. “Where did you find it?” “It was in the sand.” “Somebody has lost it, I think. However it looks expensive. I never saw this kind of gem.” “Is it the magic gem?” Amy jumped up in the crib and clapped her tiny hands. “Amy, this is not a fairy-tale. The best we can do is show it to your mom. Maybe somebody is looking for their lost pendant already and we can give it back to them.” “No, no,” Amy pouted. “Let’s play for awhile; this is a magic gem while we are playing. Can I have a single wish? I promise I’ll go to sleep and you can give it to my mom.” “Okay, little princess, why not? After all, nothing can happen,” Peggy laughed and gave the pendant to Amy. “Dear pendant, I want to be a big girl,” Amy put the pendant to her mouth and whispered her wish. The gem changed its color and turned red. All of sudden Amy’s view got blurred and seconds later she was standing in Peggy’s clothes in front of the crib and looking at herself. Somebody was standing in the crib in Amy’s onesie and holding the pendant. “It worked!” Amy exclaimed. “I’m a big girl but … are you Peggy?” she asked the little girl in the crib. “Yeah, I am Peggy. You are a big girl but I turned into a toddler.” “Isn’t it fun?” “I’m not sure Amy,” Peggy sighed; she had to recover from the shock. Although she never believed in miracles, one of them just happened. “Amy, we should change back. It isn’t as fun as you think.” Peggy tried to convince Amy. “Wait a bit please … please. We change back before my mom and dad come back.” “Okay, take the pendant and put it onto the table.” Peggy passed the pendant to Amy. However she noticed that the gem wasn’t red anymore; it also wasn’t green; it was dark gray. “Peggy, what would you do while waiting for my mom? What do big girls usually do?” Amy suddenly got confused. She didn’t have any idea what to do in her new role. Playing with dolls didn’t seem to be the right option. “I’d watch TV or browse the internet or chat with my friends.” Amy realized that the idea wasn’t as good as it seemed to her originally. Anyway she still was curious. “Come with me and we can watch TV,” Amy knew how to switch on the TV but she was disappointed by the program; no child programs were running already. “I’m thirsty,” Amy announced but she realized she should drink on her own; big girls didn’t need assistance though. She headed towards the kitchen. At that moment Peggy realized that something was wrong. Her big girl’s bladder was a bit full before they exchanged their bodies and Amy would pee soon. “Amy, wait; you aren’t wearing a diaper. What if you have to pee?” “Big girls don’t wear diapers,” Amy protested but she stopped; Peggy was right. She always used her diaper and didn’t have any idea what else to do. “What do big girls do if they don’t wear diapers?” “They have to go to the toilet, pull down their panties, sit down and pee.” “No, it’s unpleasant and difficult,” she reached down and tried to pull down the jeans she was wearing. “Diapers are better.” “Don’t you know how to unbutton your pants?” Amy shook her head. Peggy sighed only; she had to help Amy. “Let’s play a game; you are the big girl and use the toilet.” “Okay,” Amy shrugged, “What should I do?” “Come with me,” Peggy headed to the bathroom “Turn back.” Peggy unbuttoned Amy’s jeans, pulled them down along with the panties. “Sit down and pee.” Amy sat down on the toilet bowl but she was confused about what to do. She was used to a diaper, she never tried to control the bladder muscles and didn’t feel the urge yet. No pee came out. “Sorry, Peggy, I didn’t pee.” “Bring your night time diaper and lie down on the floor,” Peggy pulled Amy’s panties and jeans back. Amy brought the diaper and lay down. Peggy pulled down her jeans and the panties. Amy instinctively lifted her behind and Peggy slid the diaper underneath her. The tapes hardly reached the front but she somehow managed to tape it shut. She pulled up the panties and pants and buttoned the jeans as well. There was a bulge on Amy’s crotch. Amy jumped up and headed to the kitchen again. However she faced another problem. She always got her juice in the baby bottle or in a cup; now she had to find it and pour it into the cup. It was a new task and she spilled a little of the juice until she managed to fill the cup. Peggy also was thirsty and she poured the juice into another cup. Amy watched her and she was taken aback how quickly Peggy filled her cup. “Peggy, will I learn it?” “Of course you will; it is quite simple.” Peggy smiled. Amy drank up the juice and turned to Peggy: “What will we do now? I’d like to play.” “Aren’t you tired?” “No,I’m not.” Amy’s teeneager body wasn’t tired and Peggy also wasn’t tired out of excitement. The toddler body was a bit tired but she had to stay awake and convince Amy to change them back in time. “Okay then,” Peggy sat down and Amy joined her and pointed at the dollhouse. The scene looked normal even if their roles were switched. While they were playing, Amy’s bladder filled up. This time she felt the familiar diaper on her crotch and peed instinctively. However she had a big bladder and the diaper got soaked by a single wetting. Peggy realized she also had to pee but the overall had the zip on her back and she wasn’t able to reach it. Peggy shrugged and decided to wait until they would change back. However the weak bladder muscles betrayed her and Peggy peed herself like an actual toddler. All of sudden they heard key in the lock: “Amy, we are too late; your parents are back.”

After being disappointed with the lack of ABDL fantasy-adventure stories I decided to create my own. It’s just a silly little thing, but hopefully a bit of fun for those who carry on reading. This is a prelude to the story, so just setting some stuff up here, which may or may not come into play in the future... I dunno, we'll see, might not get that far lol. Either way, the prelude doesn't really have much in the way of ABDL content, purely world-building and story. Hopefully it's still entertaining. I'm uploading chapter 1 as a separate story. This is a re-upload. After some useful comments, I've decided to just upload all the stories in a single topic, which will be updated, and that should make everything easier to follow. Episode 2 will be out in a few weeks (as of 18/12/2021). Law of the Diaper - Prelude - Embos stood at the edge of the water. It crashed far beneath her, obeying only the wind. She had been waiting for her older siblings from across the ocean for a whole hour now, standing in a harsh storm that battered and bruised the cliff face below. Liefyr, her closest brother, had gone to get the others ready. So, she stood alone. The wind howled between her ears and tugged at her hair, and threatened, occasionally, to push her into the waters below. But she was the God of Craft. Embos wore boots of Caerson Steel, strong against the wind, and light to walk in. Each of her sibling gods on this side of the world had given their peoples a gift. Hers was Caerson, a metal both bountiful and useful. Embos hated waiting like this. She needed to do something, to be somewhere, though she didn’t know what on either account. Being the eldest of her siblings, at least of those that left Panthos, Embos felt a great responsibility to the others. A responsibility to nurture and raise. Despite being closer to Liefyr, in age she was similar to her older sibling Vafyr. And that made things complicated. Damn you Vaf, she thought, thinking of the young god. Why had he stayed with the others? Vaf was the weakest of their lot, and certainly wouldn’t be treated as their peer. With Embos and the others, he would be an equal, and great guide for the people here. Her head boiled again with anger, it had been more and more recently. Anger at the war, anger at her elder siblings, anger that she had little power by herself, and anger all she had to rely on were the youngest of gods. No, not anger. Disappointment. Instantly, she felt a pang of shame within her. They are just as valuable, just as powerful in their way. She had to admit, she was surprised at how seriously they were taking it. Normally Pelyr, the youngest of them and the God of Play, convinced Ranos and Liefyr to flunk this sort of thing. Maybe it was because Pelyr would never be able to play again if they failed, that he was taking it so seriously now. Whatever the case, Embos hoped it would last. Another great gust of wind barrelled across the grass, threatening to push Embos into the sea below. Waves crashed against the shore, the ocean’s white teeth foaming against jagged cliffs below. Dull beats, like someone playing the drums, echoed into the sky. The storm whistled around her ears, singing across the ocean. It was a tune she recognised. Looking up, Embos saw her older brother, Vafyr, silhouetted in the ocean mist. He walked on the air itself, using the wind as a path to the safety of the cliff. Around him, the grey mist somehow blushed a bright blue, as if he walked in a halo of sky. It was as if he was the colour of the world. Then again, Embos supposed, I guess he is. Within moments he was stepping onto the rock as if it were still the air, floating across newly budding grass. “Vaf!” Embos couldn’t help but let relief and no small amount of joy flood into her voice. Of all the people they could have sent, this was perhaps the best possible outcome. “Hello sister.” he said calmly, a broad smile across his face betraying any stoicism he might have masked himself with. “They thought you wouldn’t hurt me, so I was sent in place of a messenger.” Vafyr walked to Embos, he was more relaxed than she remembered. “Why would I hurt a messenger? Why would any of us--” “Em, please, I don’t think you’d hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. But that’s not how they think, is it?” Vafyr said as they walked down the shallow incline that led to the village below. Embos saw an opening. Now was the time. Now, after so many years, it was the perfect opportunity to ask. “Then why are you still--” but before Embos could finish, Vafyr cut her off. “I’m sorry, but I cannot say. I have my reasons, and hopefully you will find out soon.” “But I want to know now!” said Embos. She only realised how childish that must have sounded after she’d said it. However, Vaf didn’t seem to mind. He smiled broadly again, a glint in his eye. “Em,” he said, stopping and gently putting his hands on her shoulders. He was a foot taller than she was, towering over her. “I promise, now is not the time, but you will find out.” and that was all he said. Embos knew that was the end of it, she wouldn’t get anything else out of him. Time to move on. They continued their descent to the village. “So, why did you want to speak to us?” Embos asked, “I suppose it would be too much to ask for your loyalty?” The wind picked up again as Vafyr smiled, but the cold never came. Vafyr was too warm for that. “Unfortunately not.” he said, and then he went suddenly serious, his smile fading into what was almost a grimace. “The others want to make a deal with you.” Embos couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “You’re kidding. After all of this?” she said though a deep, slightly hysterical laughter. “After all you’ve put us through, now you want to make a deal?!” This was utterly ridiculous. Her older siblings never, never, made deals with those who were below them. And now they wanted to make a deal with not only ‘lesser gods’ but the enemy? “Now, I know what you are thinking-” Vafyr started to say, but Embos, finally managing to get control of herself, cut him off before he could do any more damage. “No, I’m sorry but no. You expect me to trust them after what they’ve done, not just to us, but the people of this world? This is stupid!” she said, and carried on walking towards the village. Vafyr stopped her, grasping her arm tightly, and suddenly this wasn’t so funny. Embos’ smiling face twisted into a scowl. “If you don’t trust them,” he said, looking deeply, so very deeply, into her, “Trust me.” They held a deep stare for a moment, before Embos broke away. What did he want? What was his plan? Their plan? He was serious, and Vafyr was rarely serious. “What aren’t you telling me Vaf?” He was holding something back, Embos knew it. There was something in his eyes, something curious, something important. He sighed, seeming resigned. “This is big Em. This is bigger than all of us. We came to a decision the other day, that this is the only way we’ll win this war.” He looked almost scared. Embos hadn’t seen him like this before. “What war?” “The only war that matters. There is … something coming.” Vafyr’s eyes glowed with a fearful anticipation. Whatever he was talking about, whatever was coming, was inevitable. The storm picked up again, blowing wind through the hills that edged the cliff face. It rippled across the grass, sending waves of darkness across the landscape. Trees, dotted here and there, swayed and danced about to the tune of the wind. Far above, clouds sped past. They swirled into each-other and ran towards dry land. Tiny droplets of rain hit skin, like pins-and-needles prickling across Embos’ body. Everything moved, everything was dynamic, everything had so much potential. For the first time, she realised how delicate it all was. While blades of grass flickered in the weather, one could simply halt each one with their thumb and forefinger. What would happen if all of this, this beautiful chaos, just … stopped? Embos realised she had been staring into space for a while. Vafyr had let go of her. She looked to her brother, searching for … something, some sort of solace, some sort of answer. Should she let him speak? Let the traitor influence their minds? If Vaf was lying they could lose their lands, their people, and their way of life to the gods across the water. But if he was telling the truth… “Em!” an energetic voice shouted from below. The two siblings atop the cliff whipped their heads around to look. It was Pelyr, their youngest sibling. Far below, the village people were out about behind him, interested to see what was going on. They all wore brightly coloured clothes, some in dungarees, some in onesies. Pelyr, spotting Embos, called again. “Em, c’mon, the others are back!” They could lose everything. If Vaf was right, everything would just stop. Embos raised her arm, shooting him a thumbs-up. Then, turning, she began again down the cliff. Vafyr stayed behind. “Sister …” he said, and Embos turned again. “Come on.” She said, “We have much to discuss.” Law of the Diaper - Episode 1 - FOST Fost waddled across the marsh. It was a miserable day, clouds had blocked the warm sun, leaving a thick grey gloom beneath. The marsh itself didn’t help much to quell the air of dullness that hung here either. It was slimy, squishy underfoot, and stank. And that wasn’t the only thing that stank. Fost fiddled with the leak guard of his diaper, attempting to make it more comfortable around his leg. It didn't do much. The diaper was just getting too full to ignore, he’d have to find that village as quick as possible, lest a rash set in. What’s worse, is that he was beginning to feel a little full in the bladder, and he didn’t suspect the diaper could hold another heavy wetting. “Damn.” he said to himself, stepping onto a raised patch of ground that was elevated comfortably out of the mud. Mud. The evil stuff came right up his leg, threatening to cling to his onesie. Not that much further, he thought to himself, then I can have a warm bath and a change. To make the rest of the journey easier on himself, he reached for his pacifier. It was attached to his neck with some old twine. It was nice, calming, and placated him enough to continue, at least for now. Now that his mind was clearer, Fost thought back to that old woman, and the conversation they had had a few days prior. What was it she wanted again? Ah, yes, that book on Strange Dymatagy. Apparently it was a rare thing that contained many more words than it did pictures. Fost scrunched his nose at the thought -- how strange. Books with many words were by no means rare, but they were usually owned by Mommies or Daddies, not another Little like himself. Though the woman was ancient, she was definitely a Little. It could only be a thick diaper between her legs that gave her that waddle, and besides, everyone knew that Littles were the only ones who could do proper Dymatagy. What a strange woman she had been. Living alone in the middle of nowhere, reading books not meant for her eyes. Oh well, thought Fost somewhat bitterly, a job’s a job. He was beginning to run low on funds besides much else, not that he had much to begin with. Besides, the village blacksmith here was apparently quite well known, and he needed a new sword as desperately as he needed a new diaper. After this, he’d be out of money. Hopefully the old woman’s job would set him up for after all of this. Before long, he had reached the bottom of a particularly high hill that had prevented him from seeing over the horizon. Salty mud and matted clumps of grass dotted the eleven foot tall mound, made worse by the recent rains. Fost looked at the hill and sighed heavily. Then, taking a large step, he pushed himself up and onto the mound, grunting loudly. Beneath his bare feet, the mud squelched and bubbled, rising through his toes. Another step, onto the steep slope. He placed his foot down and -- sloop. He slipped in the mud, falling backwards onto his polka-dot cloak and down into the mud below, pacifier flying out his mouth. Getting slowly to his feet again, Fost surveyed himself. He had a streak of brown mud down his favourite cloak. What’s worse, his onesie was now speckled with the stuff. Great, he thought, it’s going to be one of those days. He stepped forward again, making sure to be extra careful where he stood. One step up. His toes gripped into the mud. Two steps. He pulled his weight up. Three. Sloop. He slipped back down, falling onto his hands and knees. He tried again. One step. He gripped a tuft of grass, hard. Two steps. He yanked himself up. Three -- swooppllhh. Fost hit the mud with a loud splat. “aaaaAAAAHHH!” he shouted angrily. For the third time, he found himself at the bottom of that damned mound. Why was it so hard to climb a silly little hill? He used to be a soldier! A warrior! And now he was beaten by a little mud. “This is absurd!” he said through labored, angry breaths. It was. He brought his hand to the pacifier around his neck, intending to calm himself again. It was gone. No. No. It couldn’t be gone. Anger turned to panic, as he pressed his hand against his chest, hoping, desperately hoping, that it was just down his onesie. When he couldn’t find it there, he dived into the mud. It had to be here. It had to be here. Fost splashed and flailed in the muck, splattering the thick mess everywhere. He scooped through thick lumps of it, diving deep into the thick ooze to try and retrieve the pacifier. But he couldn’t find it. Panic turned to fear. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and his eyes felt heavy, watery. It was getting hard to see. On the very edge of tears, Fost just stood there, unable to move, unable to think. What would happen if he lost it? That one reminder? No. No. Fost was on the edge of storm, a raging tornado in his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the tempest gather within him. It was energy. It was power. Without a thought for the consequences, he dived into the eye of the storm, summoning it to his will. The rage and the panic and the fear swirled around him, and when he opened his eyes again, a bright white glow consumed them all. He clapped his hands to the sky, feeling the energy inside him burst out and cascade across the air. Ignoring the resulting cramp in his stomach, Fost opened his hands as if pushing a great force outwards. As he commanded so the mud obeyed, and like a great gust of wind, a circle of force was drawn around Fost, clearing the mud. The pacifier, blue and starry, lay on the ground, helpless against the mud that had consumed it. Fost smiled when he saw it. It was safe now. He bent down, delicately picking it up. The twine had snapped. Of course it had. No longer raging, the storm died down, and without thinking, Fost dropped his area of force. His face strained for a moment, and the cramp in his abdomen grew. Automatically, he pushed, and a thick mass of his own mud entered his already full diaper. He sighed deeply, content. Now that nothing was holding it back, the mud that surrounded him swept back to fill the emptiness, and within a moment, he was standing in it again. It was okay. It was okay. The pacifier was nestled between Fost’s cupped palms, sitting against the warmth of his skin. One hand closed tightly, ever so tightly, around the pacifier, and he used his other to swing his travel-sack off from beneath his cloak. It was small, only containing some food, some coin and a couple of books, but all had escaped the mud. With grace only seen in a parent caring for a child, he placed the pacifier into the bag, safe with the last of his money. Then, swinging his bag on his back again, he looked back to the slope... ...And refused to climb again. He quickly found a small stone and picked it up. With all his might, with all his effort, he imagined throwing the stone as far as he could, as hard as he could, over the hill. Then, closing his eyes, he dropped the stone. The storm of potential blew inside him again. It was much less this time, more of a strong gust of wind really. But it was enough, and with one great push, he leapt over the hill in a single bound. Well, just over half the hill. He only just passed the summit, before hitting mud, and falling on his bottom with a splat. Underneath him, the poopy diaper squished and pushed a little of his mess out of its confines. He felt the damp of fresh pee as he had another accident, a consequence of the magic. He slid down the other side of the hill, and landed at the bottom with a small splat, feet first. Fost was breathing heavily again. Even using basic Dymatagy usually took a lot out of him. He was muddy, tired, and now in dire need of a change. But, looking up, he saw what he had come for. Perched on a small island in the middle of this gods-forsaken flat, was a little village. Smoke puffed gently from a couple of chimneys, and small wattle and daub cottages stood proudly above the mud. So, brushing off as much of it as he could, he waddled towards the small settlement, trying to ignore his very full pants, and the pee dribbling down his leg. LARIA “Do you think they’ll be back?” Laria asked. She was sat on a porcelain potty, pull-up at her feet. The blacksmith wasn’t that busy at the moment, it rarely was these days. Her business partner, Krisp, slouched behind the wooden counter, where normally the bearded man stood proud. He had just been staring aimlessly at the door for about ten minutes now and, if she was honest, Laria was starting to get a little bit worried. “K?” she asked the man, stretching her head round. He didn’t answer. “Krisp!” she said loudly, and the man jumped slightly. “Sorry,” he said in that deep baritone of his. It always calmed her to hear his voice, it sounded like waves crashing along the beach. The man, normally red-faced, had somehow managed to go an even deeper shade of scarlet, “I’m fine, I was just--” “Dude, it’s fine.” Laria said, sighing, “I know what you were thinking.” There was a moment of reflective silence between them. The shop was always empty. Except for them. Laria almost thought Krisp would fade back into his daydream, but before long he spoke up again. “You making progress?” he asked, looking over to where Laria was perched on the potty, just next to the counter. “No, false alarm I think.” she said. “You’ll get the hang of it. Should have seen me trying a few years back, it was a nightmare. Pee went everywhere.” Krisp said, clearly trying to make Laria laugh. It didn’t really work. She looked down longingly. All this was so hard. Although most people on the Dullen Isles wore pull-ups well into their second decade, they were expected to be fully potty-trained within ten or so years of coming of age at 20. Most were trained years before that. At 28, Laria was starting to get worried. All her friends in Trully, her village, were completely out of their pull-ups. Although, Mossa, from down the road, still wore them for the occasional accident. Laria on the other hand, still used the underwear as her primary method of going to the toilet. To make matters worse, she had to admit that she actually enjoyed doing it sometimes. Not only were they convenient during long days at the forge, where one hardly had the time for potty breaks, but it also felt good to let loose where you stood, to feel the warmth growing around the pseudo-diaper. In Luin, the southern kingdom that ruled over Dullen, they used their diapers without a care in the world. People around here weren't usually friendly to southern visitors, but Laria found herself remarkably jealous of them instead. Although there were new, mandatory changing spaces in every shop, just as there was a potty, Laria would always be treated with an air of suspicion if she took up that lifestyle. Even more since Dullen was now a vassal of the more powerful kingdom, and resentment was skyrocketing. Mind you, they’d always be better than those barbarian pants-wetters in the West -- people who soiled their pants with no protection, no discretion. No matter what, Luin and Dullen would always unite against their wrath, even as reluctant allies. Eventually, Laria gave up trying to go pee in the potty, resigned to the fact that she would probably end up messing her pull-up later anyway. She raised herself off the potty, grabbed her pull-up and tugged on her trousers over the top. The potty, as always, stayed where it was beside the counter, in case a visitor needed it. Then, she moved to the back of the shop to where the fun stuff happened. The forge. “You didn’t answer my question.” Laria said to Krisp as she left him at the counter. The smithy itself was quite bare on the inside, with a few cabinets scattered about the front room displaying swords, knives, and other sharp objects. The bigger ones -- halberds and the like -- sat comfortably on the wall. Behind the counter was a door that led to the smithy itself, where most of the work was done. “I didn’t hear your question.” Krisp answered loudly, shouting across the smithy floor. “Liar!” she shouted amusedly back, moving into the smithy proper. “I don’t know what you mean!” Krisp said. Laria smiled, hearing the grin in his voice. Thick wafts of woodchip smoke from the fire, and a perpetual heat, hit Laria as she entered the forge. The back of the shop was much larger, messier and all around a much more interesting place to work. Beside a small wooden stool, a few swords were lined up, ready for polishing and then, hopefully, sale. Laria liked it back here. She liked the energy of the place, heated by the fire, always crackling; she enjoyed creating, crafting, and making something from something else; and she loved the feeling it gave her while doing it, almost like she was a sorcerer, doing magical things that no one else could. In a way, that was true. That’s what made potty breaks even more gruelling. The damned thing tore her away from her work, her beautiful work. It was the same feeling of uselessness she felt while on the counter, just waiting for customers that didn’t exist. So, Laria sat down on the small wooden bench, her pull-up padding her bottom on the hard wood, and got to work. While she rubbed oil along the slender blade of a newly forged longsword, she looked towards the door. Boy, Krisp really doesn’t want to answer that question she thought, smiling to herself. “Krisp, are you going to answer or not?” “Do you really want an answer?” he asked. It was a tough topic to talk about in his defence, but they needed to be prepared, and this was the beginning of that laborious process. “Yes, I want your opinion. Do you really think they’ll be back?” Although Laria was looking at the sword, careful of where her hands were, she was sure to keep her ears towards the door. It would be nice to just focus on the sword, but she knew she couldn’t until the question was answered. She was beginning to feel a little full ‘down there’ again as well, now that her pee-fright had gone. But before Laria could put much thought into it, Krisp spoke up again. “Honestly ... yes.” he said sullenly “I think they’ll--” He switched his voice abruptly, the slightly worn baritone sparking into a lighter greeting. “Welcome! How can I…” Krisps greeting petered out, and all Laria could hear were mumbles from the door. A customer! Finally, something was going up in this godsforsaken town. She went back to her work, only to be called out again a few moments later. “L, grab that Caerson arming sword we made a few months back.” Laria frowned and got reluctantly up. She moved towards a rack where she and Krisp kept the finished weapons, and grabbed the small arming sword. Then, she carefully made her way out front, to see what all of this was about. They never got visitors, especially ones asking for something so expensive. If she was to be distracted from her work, at least it was for a sale. The customer stood on the opposite side of the counter, chatting idly to Krisp as they waited. He was a young man, dwarfed by gargantuan Krisp, but taller than Laria. He leant on the counter, messy blonde hair straggled across his face. It was curly, unruly stuff, splattered with mud. In fact, now that Laria looked, the man was covered head to toe in the stuff. Clearly a Little from the onesie and multicoloured polka-dot cloak, the man looked rather unhappy in his current state. “Here you go sir.” she said, passing the sword to the man. He took it, looking somewhat unsure, and then looked it up and down. Only as she stood there for a moment, watching the customer, did Laria notice the smell. It was that all too familiar stench of a messy diaper, a very messy diaper. Now she looked, the loaded thing bulked between his legs, forcing them slightly apart. Although it was probably rude to stare, Laria couldn’t take her eyes off the thing. What does it feel like? To have so much weight down there? In fact, she only stopped staring when Krisp nudged her, and she snapped sharply out of her daydream. Rather luckily, the customer was still inspecting the sword. It was quite funny watching him. The poor fellow clearly didn’t know what he was looking for, either that or he was distracted. Maybe it was the diaper… “My partner here can give you a run-down if you’d like a good sir?” Krisp said, putting the man out of his misery. “Yes,” the customer answered, sounding relieved, “That would be great.” and he handed the sword to Laria. As she smiled, taking the blade from the customer, she couldn’t help notice that her bladder seemed considerably fuller than it had before. Oh well, can’t stop now, she thought, besides, I’ll probably just freeze back up if I try the potty again. Laria balanced the sword on the tips of her fingers, showing the customer where the blade’s centre of gravity was. She looked towards the man, who proceeded to nod gently. Then, moving with the grace of the wind, she threw the sword in the air, and caught it by the hilt. Krisp chuckled, seeing the customer waddle back slightly in surprise. She swung the sword around a little, getting a feel for it. “Arming swords are usually side-arms.” she said, slicing through the air. This felt good, a blade in her arms. It had been so long since they’d had any customers, she’d almost forgotten how freeing it felt to wield a sword rather than craft one. I’ll have to take this up again! “Did you want one this size?” she said calmly, hiding the energy, the potential, deep inside her chest. “Yes. Something easy to travel with, light and agile. I... I used to have a similar weapon in the army.” the customer said, the last bit subdued somewhat. He glanced to the ground as he said it. Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? Surely he should know how to wield a sword if that were the case? Laria thought it best not to press him. She stopped her routine, and gently handed back the sword. He took it. “This should suit your needs quite well then.” said Laria. She glanced down at the man’s full diaper for a moment, but when she raised her eyes, she caught the customer’s gaze. His pale skin went suddenly red. It was almost as if he hadn’t even realised his diaper was that full until now, and was suddenly self-conscious. How couldn’t you realise when you’d messed yourself? Laria thought back to all the times she’d had an accident, and the bulge that stuck out of her pants. She remembered the earthy smell, the way it forced you to waddle along. Were Littles that oblivious? Krisp interrupted her train of thought, as per. “Is there anything else we can do for you?” he asked. For a moment, Laria didn’t know if it were possible for the man to blush more, but somehow he managed. “You … errr… you don’t know where I could change around here? I have my own supplies...” Krisp giggled slightly, but thankfully it seemed the man had gone as red as he could go. Now it was Laria’s turn to interrupt Krisp. “Yes, of course. This way Sir …” “Fost. Just, Fost.” “Okay Master Fost, this way please.” and she led him to the changing room out the back. FOST “Just back here.” the woman who ran the blacksmiths said. Fost waddled behind her as best he could, trying not to leak over their floor. Although he could handle the odd wet, or even messy, diaper, it had been two days now. He needed this so badly. It was clammy around his legs, the mess was dry and peeling, clinging to his skin like a crustacean. He followed the woman through the back of the shop and into the forge. A hazy fog of fire-smoke floated through the air ahead. “Through there,” the woman said, pointing at a door to Fost’s side. “Just go ahead and get started.” the woman continued, walking toward the forge’s fire, “I’ll just heat some water for you.” She didn’t bring her head up as she spoke, focusing intently on the fire and water instead. Fost nodded, though the woman didn’t see, and waddled into the small side-room. It was pretty standard as far as changing rooms went, though compared to the rest of the shop, it looked relatively new. The wooden walls were cleaner than the rest of the smithy, and a newly clay-tiled floor lay comfortably under a wooden table. It was the length of a man, and a leather cushion lay at the other end. It all looked barely used. Climbing onto the table was a little bit of a struggle. Fost didn’t particularly want to leak, these people were doing him a courtesy after all, and getting excrement everywhere would be extremely disrespectful. That was perhaps the one thing this strange place and his own homeland had in common -- it was always, always, impolite to make a mess when making messies. Of course it happened occasionally, accidentally. But only those barbarians in the south would be so disgusting as to do so deliberately. When Fost managed to get onto the table, he lay down, getting comfortable. Then, with practiced hands, he unbuttoned his onesie, and tore off the tapes of his diaper, which now rested on his upper waist. Presently, the woman entered with the water. Steam drifted off the surface, gently curling and swaying in the light breeze of the closing door. The woman placed the bowl down onto the tiles below, along with some small towels she carried. She drew another bucket out from under the table, and placed it at her feet. Then suddenly, she wrinkled her nose, apparently hit by the stinky onslaught of smells for the first time, especially now that the Diaper was open. Fost felt his face go hot, flushing. “I’m so sorry Miss.” he said out of sheer embarrassment. Normally in Luin, whenever changes happened, it wasn’t seen as a big deal. Everyone was used to it, and it was even enjoyable. Mommies and Daddies made their Little feel at ease, treating it, rightly so, as something that was perfectly natural. Clearly, here in the Dullen Isles, people weren’t so used to hiding their reactions. The woman seemed to blush a little as well. “It’s fine Sir … sorry I forgot your name.” “Fost.” he said, thankful for the change of subject. He relaxed a little at that. “I’m Laria,” the woman said. Laria. She was slightly shorter than Fost, though the height of the table seemed almost perfect for her. Dark skin glistening with the sweat of the forge, Laria wiped her forehead. She moved her already rolled sleeves up her arm a little, and bent down to soak one of the rags in the warm water. Then, she got back up, brushed some of her black, curling hair out of the way, and opened the front of the diaper. Even by Little standards, Fost had to admit it was horrid. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t had a blowout, especially considering the dirty thing had been leaking for a good hour now. Lara scrunched up her nose again, and this time even Fost was forced to follow suit. “I am so sorry.” he said, his ears, cheeks, and neck burning in shame. “No no!” Laria said, somewhat less calmly than he was hoping to hear, “It happens to everyone.” Not around here though, thought Fost shamefully. She began to wipe him down, taking the wet cloth and squeezing the dirty water into the empty bucket. It felt amazing. After all he had been through over the past few days, to have the icky mess finally coming off him was utterly blissful. He felt light down there, clean, and fresh. He felt like the steam rising from hot water. He felt like the cool currents of the ocean. He felt like a gust of wind in the sky. Fost enjoyed this transcendent experience for a few moments, enjoying the peace, enjoying the silence. He looked to Laria, she was completely consumed in the work, focused and stone-eyed. It was an admirable trait, the likes of which Fost hadn’t seen in a very long time. Although she looked a little uncomfortable, maybe even slightly distracted at times, she continued working diligently. Only for a moment did she break her glance -- catching Fost in the act of looking, then swiftly returning to her task. Fost looked down quickly, not keen to make an awkward situation of it. “So,” Laria said eventually, still intent on her work, “What brings you so far north?” She said it almost absent-mindedly, but there was a quiet chorus of intrigue that rose from behind. Should he tell the truth? Should he say why he was here? He couldn’t see it causing much harm. It was just a book after-all. Besides, he concluded, maybe she can help. “Oh, I’m looking for a book.” said Fost, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “For a client down south.” “Oh Really? What does it look like? Maybe I can point you the right way.” Laria asked. Fost took a moment to answer. Not because he didn’t want to tell her, but rather because he didn’t know what to tell her. He couldn’t recall the woman mentioning what it looked like, other than it’s contents and… “It has a symbol on the front, I think. A sword on a shield, engraved into the cover.” he said, satisfied at the little victory over his memory. Laria, who was in the middle of her final wipes, stopped suddenly. She seemed to squint slightly, as if trying to remember something. Then, shaking her head, she went back to work. “Sorry, I can’t remember seeing anything like that.” she said. Eventually, she finished cleaning Fost down, his sparkly clean bare bottom on the cold table. Laria shuffled through Fost’s bag and found a clean diaper from the stash he left Bermont with, they were well stocked in the Capital. “Okay, bottom up.” Laria said, hoisting Fost’s legs upwards and laying out the white padding underneath. Fost noticed something different about her now. Whilst she was still focused on the task at hand, it was becoming clearer and clearer that she was struggling to maintain composure. The blacksmith was starting to wiggle a little, moving from side to side, almost as if… “You okay?” Fost asked as Laria did the tapes of his diaper up. “Yeah, I’m … I’m fine.” she said unconvincingly. Fost had seen that struggle before. It was common in these parts, where people weren’t so relaxed about just going in their diaper -- Laria was doing a pee-pee dance. “If you need to go, you should just go.” he said, as calmly as possible. “You do wear some sort of protection around here don’t you?” Laria looked up, seeming somewhat startled. Then, she nodded quickly. “Well I - ahhh - I should really be going in the potty.” She was really moving now that she didn’t have to hide it, blushing slightly as she gave into the full pee-pee dance. With a hand pressed between her legs, Laria wiggled up and down, stepping quickly from foot to foot. She was starting to go even redder too, though Fost didn’t know if it was from the strain or embarrassment. He should do something. Help somehow. “Would you like me to go and get the potty for y-” “No!” She almost shouted, before Fost could finish asking. “No, it’s … it’s fine…” Laria’s struggle seemed to hit a limit, and suddenly she stopped. “It’s fine, ahhhhhh.” as she spoke, her legs seemed to go weak, and a relieved smile crept onto her face. Fost couldn’t help but smile amusedly as well. She lent slightly forward, breathing heavily, for about two minutes, completely in her own world. Silence filled the room, so much so that Fost could hear the gentle trickle of a quickly filling pull-up. “You … err … you done?” he asked. Laria, clearly remembering she wasn’t alone, snapped her head up and shot up straight. “Heh, erm, sorry about that.” she said, blushing slightly. Fost had to suppress a giggle. It was strange to hear someone apologise for something that happened all the time in the south. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” he said. Laria looked down to inspect the damage, and her long hair fell in front of her face. “Would you like a change or…?” Fost trailed off, watching Laria to see what she’d say. “Um…” “Oh, sorry, is that not … do you not do that here? In the south we generally swap and stuff but --” Fost spoke quickly, muttering that last bit. Laria interjected before he had a chance to finish. “No, we … we do that here too, for those of us who are still… y’know.” she said. “Oh, cool … that wasn’t … I’m sorry if it was out of line …” “Not at all!” she said, moving her head quickly up, and stepping forward slightly. “It’s fine, I would have asked the same thing.” “Okay, sorry if I …” “No, you don’t need to say sorry …” “Did you … did you errr … you still want me too-” “Yes!” she said quickly, a smile flickering on her face, “Errr, yes … yes please.” Fost’s face was scorching with embarrassment, and it was clear Laria was as well. Fost jumped down and went to find the supplies that Laria kept around, while she jumped onto the table. Then, soaking some clean rags, Fost got to work. Changing a pull-up was much the same as changing a diaper, though the garment was considerably less bulky. Laria had completely soaked through hers, and Fost was, for the second time today, surprised no-one leaked. “Y’know,” he said, taking the heavy pull-up and placing it beside the waste bucket, “You’d make a good Little with how much you soaked this thing.” “And you’d make a good Islander with that quick potty suggestion earlier!” Laria said, eliciting an embarrassed chuckle from Fost. Now that things were a little more comfortable, Laria seemed to open up a bit, and as Fost wiped her down, they talked a little about weapons. “You won’t find many larger ones around here,” Laria said, “They’re bought up quickly and used for war. At steep discounts too…” “I guessed as much, that’s the way things have always been in Luin. Always at war, always ‘acquiring’ weapons. Most non-army folk don’t get a word in.” “Yeah. Although, if you don’t mind me asking, you’re only looking for a book. Why do you need a sword?” Laria asked as Fost did the tapes of her pull-up. “Better safe than sorry, right? Bandits and all sorts on the road.” “Not around here. That’s one of the few good bits about --” DONG. DONG. DONG. A large bell rang through the village outside. Laria snapped up. “Oh no.” she said, and walked out of the room without bothering to put on her pants. Fost watched her go, slightly confused for a moment, and then decided that it would be best to follow her. What in the name of the gods is happening now? He cursed silently. Outside, people were gathering around a bell that stood in the middle of the village. Like Laria, a few of the younger folk were out here with their pull-ups on full show. Fost started to worry a little. This couldn’t be good whatever it was, and he was in a foreign town with foreign people. All around, people in the crowd glared at him. He pushed through the crowd and eventually found Laria, standing at the front. “Laria,” he asked, “what’s going on?” but he didn’t have to wait for an answer. Opposite the small crowd was a group of soldiers on horseback. Like Fost, they all wore bright cloaks, onesies, and each had a distinct diaper-bulge. There were at least thirty of them at the back, all wearing similar clothes to Fost, though with added armour plates here-and-there. Three of the newcomers stood proud and tall at the front. The one in the centre sucked on a pacifier haughtily, looking so utterly regal that he probably thought he shat gold. On his right was a woman, thin faced, and paler than ice. On his left was a man, hooded -- a cloak of deep twilight-blue. Fost felt something strange, like the gears of possibility shifted within him. But then something else caught his eye. Strapped to the hooded man’s waist was a book. A book with a shield and sword engraved on the front. END OF EPISODE 1

🍍Part 1: Patsy Bennett closed the door of her small apartment, removed her shoes and dropped down on the bed. Her entire body ached after the long shift in the restaurant and she only wanted to have some sleep until the next shift would begin. The apartment was small and shabby but it was the only place she could afford at her small waiter salary. Patsy grew up at an orphanage and she couldn’t get any decent education to get a better job. Sometimes she cursed her biological mother and the unfair fate. Why the hell couldn’t her mother keep her and raise her like any other one? Who was her mom? The life in the orphanage wasn’t that bad; it wasn’t like the old-fashioned horror houses from B movies. The staff was friendly even if the caretakers were strict. Her roommates also were nice but they couldn’t make up for mom, dad and siblings. She often dreamed of living in her own family and she wasn’t alone. Almost all children had the same dream. When she left the orphanage and found her job, her dreams changed. She had her own life even if it was a miserable one. It probably was too late to return and start anew. However she wanted to find her mother and … and what? What would Patsy be able to tell the person who had abandoned her like an unnecessary toy? Finding her biological mother seemed to be impossible. Patsy had asked about her mother earlier at the orphanage but she only learned her date of birth - the 14th of May 1995. The orphanage staff didn’t have any information on Patsy’s mother and they told her that the documents were destroyed when Patsy was released from the hospital. There was a hospital near the orphanage and Patsy guessed she was born there. All of sudden a crazy thought hit Patsy’s mind. What if she could travel back in time and find her mother at the moment she was released from the hospital? Patsy tried to scare off that intrusive image but she couldn’t. Travelling back in time was a pure fantasy though. About a week later she was in a hurry after her shift and absorbed herself in her thoughts when she took a wrong turn and stopped in front of a shabby house. It differed from all other houses and looked like it didn’t belong to the present time. She didn’t know why but she knocked on the door. “Come in,” a male voice called her and she entered the small house hesitantly. The voice that invited her belonged to a young man in his mid 30’s. Another older man was sitting in a rocking chair. Patsy noticed an incredible similarity of the men; they had to be father and son. “Sorry to disturb you but I was too curious and there is something odd that attracted my attention to your house. My name is Patsy Bennett.” “Don’t worry, miss Bennett. I’m kinda used to this kind of visitor. Our house keeps attracting the attention of passersby but they usually leave as soon as I introduce myself.” “How so? What’s strange about your name?” “It’s not the name miss. My name is James Hawkins and this is James Hawkins as well,” he pointed at the old man. “Well, it is not practical but still nice if father and son have equal names.” “Sorry miss; you are wrong. We are the same person.” “W … w … what?” Patsy almost fainted and dropped down on the nearby chair. Was she dreaming? “Well miss, are you about to run away now?” “I don’t know,” Patsy almost jumped up and ran away but her curiosity was much stronger. “How is that possible? Are you able to make your own copies or?” “That’s a long story. Would you like to hear it?” “Mister … can I say James to you? I’m tired just now but I’d like to come again tomorrow. I have a day off.” “Of course, miss … Patsy? Come tomorrow and we can talk. I also have something interesting to show you.” “I will come. It would be a little exciting to spend my day off in a more interesting way than browsing the town aimlessly.” Patsy couldn’t sleep that night and she had to think about the strange house and about ‘something interesting’. How was it possible to make copies of a person? The next morning she hurried up towards the strange house and knocked on the door impatiently: “Come in,” the voice invited her but it wasn’t the young man from the day before. The older James welcomed her: “Good morning,” “Good morning Patsy. The junior James is at work but you are welcome anyway.” “I can’t wait to hear your story; you also promised something interesting James.” “Of course, Patsy, I'll show you it first,” he stood up and brought a small case and opened it. There was something like a big clockwork inside with several metal dials and two handles inside. “Oh, what is it? I’ve never seen this kind of clockwork.” “Be patient, miss. Listen to my story. However, take it and look at the bottom.” Patsy lifted the mysterious clockwork and turned it upside down. It was surprisingly heavy. There was an inscription on the bottom: “TIMETRON A.D.1827” “Timetron? What does it mean? Where did you find this? This clockwork is a rare historical artifact.” “It’s more than a plain historical artifact and much more than a plain clockwork. Now let me continue. I bought this house long ago. It was surprisingly cheap and there were rumors about it and its history. According to those rumors two dead bodies were found there and the bodies looked like the same person. People believed in demons or similar evil powers. The house itself was abandoned and I spent a lot of time and money to do all necessary repairs. Anyway I didn’t notice any signs of supernatural powers.” “James, have you been living all alone here?” Patsy interrupted him. “Yeah, I have; I’m single and I’ve been focusing on my work the entire time. Now let’s proceed to a more interesting period. One day I decided to check the loft. Of course I did it before during the repair works but I didn’t browse all the old chests. To be honest, I don’t know why I took that decision but it changed my life forever. The chests were full of junk mostly but I found Timetron among that junk. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any idea what I had found. That day in the evening I cleaned it and studied all the buttons and dials. Look at them.” Patsy looked at the dials and she realized they were a kind of calendar. Turning the dials, she could set up any date. There was a dial numbered from 1 to 31, another one labeled with month names and four dials with numbers from 0 to 9 inside a square frame. “If I’m right, you could set up any day on these dials - from the year 0000 until 9999. Okay but it doesn’t make sense. What happens if you set the date?” “Miss Patsy, I also was curious about the mysterious machine. The first attempt was simple; I set the dials to the same day and wound up the machine. Nothing happened. I grabbed the handles, felt a bit light headed but nothing changed. The next attempt was much more courageous. I turned the dials to the day before and repeated the procedure. All of sudden the machine disappeared. I was taken aback; did I travel in time? The evidence was sitting in the chests on the loft. I hurried up and opened the correct chest. I almost fainted when I spotted the machine there.” “Wow, that really is a time travelling machine!” “Yeah, it is.” “How is it linked to your copy?” “I had an old friend but he died more than twenty years before I found the machine and unfortunately, I didn’t have any opportunity to see him. I got a call about his car accident and hurried up to the hospital but he died minutes before I arrived. I got a crazy idea to use the machine and arrive in time. Everything worked and I could say goodbye to him but I encountered myself in the hospital corridor. I returned home and found the machine. My second copy followed me. When I grabbed the handles, my copy was present in the room and returned with me.” Patsy looked at James and timetron in utter amazement. She would like to hear more but it was too much for her and she desperately wanted to see her mother. “James, your story is interesting indeed but it’s too much for me now and I’ll come later again to hear more. Now I'll tell you my reason; I’d like to find my mother; she abandoned me and I grew up in an orphanage. Maybe I’ll be able to change my past and grow up in a normal family. I know that this is a bold request but could I use timetron?” “Patsy, feel free to use it but be careful. Avoid meeting yourself in the past. If you want to change something in the past, I don’t have any idea of the consequences.” “What time should I choose. I was born on the 14th and I’d guess my mom was released two days later,” her fingers trembled when she turned the dials. 1995, May, 16th. She wound up the machine and grabbed both handles. Ticking could be heard and the world around her got blurred. Seconds later her vision cleared and she looked around. The old James had gone and she was alone in the house.

Hey everyone - I wrote this randomly in 4 hours today. Posting it for fun. I usually write stories for my own enjoyment but decided I'd share this one. I know there are a lot of fundamental mistakes, grammatical errors etc and I'm naturally bad at writing pros. I did not really proof read this. I know the content is a bit unrealistic and what not - but it the kind of story I like so I decided I'd take shot at it. Anyway - if people like the general theme or where it is going, I'll clean it up - format it and continue it in parts to share... Kyle's Summer Vacation: INTRODUCTION: It has been one week since summer began, and Kyle Connors was anxious with how quickly the last year had gone by. The 20-year-old boy lived with his parents in upstate New York, they were both professors at a local university and had high expectations for their children. His mother was a neuroscience researcher currently on sabbatical to write her book and his father was an archeologist who had just left for a dig in South America which would last most of the summer. Kyle’s older sister Kayla had been the golden child, she was a math/science prodigy and enrolled in Dartmouth two year’s prior. Kyle unfortunately was not as scholastically gifted as his sister, but he did okay was a B student and had been a competitive track athlete until a nasty fall ended his career during the final meet of the season. This led him to take a gap year instead of enrolling in college, he just wanted time to reevaluate his situation. So, over the past 6 months he’d been taking a few classes at a community college and working part-time at a local supermarket. To his parents’ disappointment – his progress at community college was well below their expectations, with him barely getting a C average his first year. More than anything they were concerned with his lack of attention and complacency, he seemed unmotivated. If anything, this gap year had caused him to go backwards – he was still relying on his parents for so much and didn’t seem to want to grow up. In fact – Kyle seemed to be settling into a normal routine as the child in the household. He would wait until the final moment to do his laundry, usually his mother would just end up doing it for him. He was resigned to playing video games and watching cartoons more often than his parents would have liked. He was naturally a clumsy person, so being around the house more often – he seemed to always be spilling on the furniture and tracking dirt through the house. Things like dishes, yardwork and general adult responsibilities were simply difficult for him to handle, so his parents were resigned to do it all themselves. Not surprisingly – Kyle’s parents had put numerous restrictions around his life. He had an early curfew, still had a bedtime and they even had parentals controls for him when he was watching TV or using the internet. To reduce distractions they’d throttled his phone, so the only apps he could engage with were learning based or educational. Beyond this – they had just taken to treating Kyle a bit younger than his actual age, basically wanting to know where he was at any given moment, what he was doing and wanting to make sure he was safe. In their eyes he simply was a kid, not an adult. Kayla had just arrived home two days ago, she was on her summer break and was ready to enjoy a relaxing summer.. Kyle was extremely jealous of his older sister, and it was really dawning on him how much better she had it. At this moment summer vacation was a thing of the past for him, he had to work at his boring job and was in online classes to make up for the failed classes from the prior year. His parents were elated with all her progress, and she was not under the same rules or super vision Kyle was. She had complete freedom as an adult should. This was not helping his stress and anxiety – the peer-pressure was a lot for him to deal with and he was having trouble sleeping, with dreadful anxious thoughts of failure keeping him up at night. Even though Kyle had been injured the prior year, he was still able to run long distance, and this was his main outlet for relieving himself of anxiety or stress. At 5’3 and 135 pounds – he had the perfect body for long distance and was pushing himself to get ready for marathon coming up in the fall. Even with all the strenuous exercise – he still was having trouble getting enough sleep and this was starting to complicate his life even further. About a week ago, the reality of his sisters return and his depressing circumstances set in on him. His mental health was waning and it was all starting to affect him physically. It seemed to all come crumbling down when he woke up a 4:30 AM to discover he’d done something that hadn’t done since the 8th grade – Kyle had wet the bed. This was not exactly foreign to Kyle – he had issues with intermittent bedwetting all the way up to middle school and had worn Goodnites for his predicament until he was 11. In fact, Kyle had struggled with potty training in his early years and because this he’d started kindergarten a year late, since at age 5 he was still in and out of diapers. His doctor had told his parents he had a small bladder and this was something that he’d likely have to deal with for the rest of his life. Kyle was good about limiting liquids but still usually went to use the restrooms 2 or 3 times more frequently than his peers. This is something he just had learned to deal with. That early morning Kyle was so disappointed in himself, he couldn’t believe what had happened and was not looking forward to his parents finding out. He luckily had a change of sheets in the closet. So quickly – he removed his soil linens and stuffed them in shopping bag and was able to fall back asleep. The next morning, he slept in and his mother was gone when he woke up, likely on her morning walk. He quickly went downstairs to do the laundry and cover up his shameful wetting incident. When his Mom arrived home later that day – things began to get complicated… Kyle was sitting in the kitchen watching Hilda when his mother called out from the den -“Hey honey – did you put some laundry down?” his mother asked in a surprising tone. “Yes, Mom I put it down an hour or so ago, just my sheets – I think it should be done soon” Kyle answered in a nervous studder. “Why did you do your sheets? I just washed them yesterday” his mother inquired shouting from the other room. “Sorry mom, I had night sweats last night and they just were gross – I’ll put them in the dryer shortly” he was really hoping his mother would drop this and move on. “Okay well I appreciate you helping, looks like they just finished so I will put them in the dryer – I need to get the rest of our laundry done” she thought to herself that this was a good sign, Kyle almost never did chores like this, maybe this summer he’ll start to grow up. As she opened the washer she was met with a pungent smell – it was unmistakably urine. As a mother of two children, she knew exactly what had happened. “Hey Kyle” his mother shouted presumptuously “did you forget to put detergent in the washer?” Kyle’s face went pale, and he sat in silence hoping the inevitable would not happen – how could he forget such a simple thing. As he turned to go try to mitigate the incident his mother came around the corner with his sheets in her arms. “Kyle Anders Connors – do you have something to tell me!” she was looking at him with a stern expression. Kyle couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth, so he stared at his bowl of cheerios sheepishly. “Kyle these sheets smell like pee, did you wet the bed last night?” his mother asked concernedly. “I, I, I’m not sure what happened mom – I’ve been really tired and I did 8 miles yesterday I must have drank too much water, I’m sorry” his face was beet red with shame and he wanted to run as fast as he could out the front door. His mother responded calmly but in a serious manner “Young man, accidents happen but I will not have you lying about it. I need you to be honest with me and your father all the time. It’s obvious that you can’t handle this like an adult. Let’s hope this is a one-time thing, if it happens again – you need to tell me right away and I will take care of cleaning it up since you seemingly can’t do it properly. If I’m not here, you need to call or text me to tell me what happened and I’ll give you instructions, am I clear?” “Yes mom” he responded with a very embarrassed look on his face. This was not exactly how he wanted this summer to start. He wanted to come up with some sort of excuse, but he couldn’t think of anything worth saying. His mother left the room quickly and put the sheets in the washer to run them again with soap. As she returned to the kitchen she sat down at the table across from Kyle… she sniffed the air inquisitively, there was a musty smell and she realized where it was coming from. “Kyle! Have you showered since this happened? You smell like pee!” she stated bluntly. “Sorry mom, I was hungry and had come downstairs to eat – I just forgot!” He responded with a terribly embarrassed look on his face. He was almost at tears. “That is ridiculous and gross! You must be more responsible than this. What next, am I going to have to bathe you as well! Go up and take a shower this instant!” Kyle immediately got up from the table and ran upstairs – so relieved to get away from possibly his most embarrassing moment in recent memory. After the awful morning and a long shower Kyle was determined to have a better afternoon. He went for a run on his favorite trail and was going to push to do 14 miles today. During the run he thought about what had happened and how much he must have disappointed his mother. Hopefully the next few days would improve, and this would be forgotten about. Unfortunately – the next few days and week did not improve at all. His bedwetting became persistent, and he only managed to have two dry nights over a 7-day period. There was even a day on his way back from a run when he had an urgent need to pee and ended up soaking hit pants just minutes before arriving home, fortunately he was able to scramble up to his room and throw his jogging shorts along with his socks in plastic bag which he hid under his bed. Each wet morning he would strip his soiled pajamas off, take a shameful shower and after which he would head down would go to his mother to tell her what had happened. This routine was becoming painful for Kyle and for his mother. Both of them just hoped things would work themselves out, but it was becoming obvious something would have to be done to help Kyle with his issues. CHAPTER 1: PLANNING FOR BLACK BEAR It was Sunday afternoon and Kyle’s mother Karen was preparing for lunch thinking about the next few weeks. The next day Kyle, his sister and Mother would be driving 6 hours north to Maine for a 3-week trip at Black Bear Resort and Lodge just outside Acadia National Park. This was an annual tradition for the family and something Kyle always looked forward to. This year, since Kyle’s father wasn’t joining them – his mother had arranged for her research assistant Candice to come along. She was a single mother of a three-year-old girl named Karly. Candice has been having a tough year, with a recent divorce and grueling new project she had undertaken that was putting undue stress on her. Her specialty was in childhood/pre-adolescent psychology, and she had recently been working on a new study to identify issue in children suffering from avoidance and regressive behavior. Kyle’s mother always enjoyed Candice’s company and was excited to have an adult friend to spend time with on her annual vacation. The kids always went off to do the various activities during their trips to Black Bear and it would have been a rather lonely experience to be with the older crowd at the pool and bar by herself. In fact, when the kids were younger, they’d typically be in the kids camps and she would spend most of her time at the adult pool with her husband relaxing during the trip. Candice had been somewhat concerned about having her little girl along with her, especially since she explained that she was struggling with potty training. Candice had decided to take a break on training for the first month of summer to relieve pressure on both of them and planned to ramp it up again as they started to get closer to the school year. Kyle’s mother assured Candice that the Little Cubs activity program and daycare would be awesome for Karly. Also, there was a cabin designed for families with little ones or kids with special needs – stocked with a changing table, large tub and Montessori bed for children. She remembered how helpful the resort amenities have been with Kyle since he was also a late bloomer with the potty. Candice was relieved at this and was excited to get a few weeks to really relax. As this conversation was happening – Kyle’s mother was reminded of the current bedwetting issue her son had been having… she decided to bring the topic up to Candice. “Hey Candice… this is a bit embarrassing for me to admit – but can I ask you for some advice in confidence?” she asked sincerely. Candice realized that something was concerning her friend… “absolutely you know you can tell me anything, what is up?!” Kyle’s mother began with a slow sense of apprehension “Well this a bit embarrassing, the past few weeks Kyle has been having an issue… he’s been wetting his bed almost every night and actually I even found wet shorts and socks in a plastic bag under his bed the other day when cleaning – which I think was from a daytime accident ” Candice eyes grew softer and she spoke with empathetically “Oh I see – well that is a bit concerning for a boy his age. I know you’ve voice concerns about him before – have you managed to take him to the doctor yet?” she asked with concern. “Well yes, actually I got the call yesterday and all the tests came back. Medically he is in incredibly good shape. Years ago he was diagnosed with a small bladder and he’d struggled with this until he started middle school but we’ve had no problems until just recently…” She paused nervously getting ready to pose the next question. “You see I’ve been thinking about the trip and what to do – obviously I can’t have my son wetting his bed in the cabin every night. The laundry situation alone would be a nightmare, not to mention the potential damage to the mattress… so I’ve thought about getting him some… well protection for his nighttime accidents. I know this seems extreme putting a 20-year old in diapers but I don’t know what else to do. I wanted to ask – as my friend and a professional in the field – do you think it would be damaging to him, from a mental and emotional standpoint?” her face was glowing red at this point and was filled with dread at how her friend might respond. Candice looked on with a calm and determined expression “Karen – I actually think you’re going in the absolute right direction here. In fact I believe it would have a positive impact on him – both mentally and emotionally. I’d even encourage you to take it… well maybe a step further, let me explain. Look you’ve been talking to me about Kyle for years and I’ve gotten to know him ever since we started working together. It has never been my place to say this, but I think Kyle struggles from avoidant personality disorder. In my recent research – we’ve found that adolescents with high achieving parents and even more so those with high achieving older siblings – can suffer from a fear of failure that pacifies them from taking on challenges since they’d rather not try than fail at something.” Candice pauses for a moment to gauge Karen’s emotion, although concerned, she seemed engaged and willing to hear more. She continued “in my recent studies – we’ve found that lowering the bar – if you will - can have incredibly positive outcomes for children suffering from this condition. In fact we’ve found recently that letting a child take a few steps back, can help them really explore themselves, release anxiety and gain new perspectives on life. This leads to more confidence, a willingness to take chances, helps them understand that failure is natural and is a natural part of life. This is part of the reason I’m having Karly go back to diapers for summer and am encouraging her to be little for a bit longer, not making it a punishment but an opportunity for he to be my lovely baby for just a little while more. This way she can come to terms with her outcome and be ready to try again with renewed confidence.” Karen looked at Candice with a somewhat concerned but very understanding look, “so you’re saying I should encourage Kyle to… umm act like a little kid? How would I even begin to do that?” Karen asked. Candice thought for a moment then said “well I think you just approach the whole situation with as much concern and empathy as possible. I’d suggest you bring up the diapers to him and make rules around the situation. For one, I think you take control over the whole bedtime & diapering process and further put him on a potty training regiment. That means, you’re the one who puts him in them and takes him out of them and you're the one supervising his use of the bathroom. Although he may be resistant in the beginning, it will take pressure off of him – I think it will be key to do this in the most loving and encouraging way possible. I’d also explain that since he is not completely potty trained – that there will be rules – just like I had with Karly. For instance – if he has any daytime accidents - that would mean he is in diapers for the rest of the day. From there – I bet there are little things we can work on together during our trip to help naturally regress him. Also - this is up to your discretion but I think you may need to explain to him the situation and give him options. He would either comply with our program or enroll him in a different type of correctional program... I'll let you decide what that would be. I mean he isn’t that big to begin with and if my evaluation is correct on him – the regression process will be a somewhat natural process for him. One thing I think we do right now, is call the Resort and see if they have any additional family rooms available. I bet Kyle would be just the right fit for the Montessori bed I the room they got for me and it would help with the whole process.” Karen nodded her head apprehensively “Okay I think this is worth giving a try, thank you for the advise Candice and the help in executing this. Hopefully we get great results for Kyle”. Although she was concerned over this, she felt what Candice was saying was right and this might be the perfect opportunity to give Kyle some time to be a kid again… well actually little kid and get him over the fear of failure. So that afternoon – they made all the arrangements and came up with a plan. Candice went shopping for a few things to help and was going to pack basically double for Karly to prepare for how far down the rabbit whole Kyle ended up going. Karen called the resort to make some changes to their reservation and ask some questions on camp policy. She was greeted by the nicest lady to which she explained her situation. She told her that one of her teenagers (she fibbed a bit here) had been having some issues with incontinence and would need extra help during the trip to attend to his “special needs”. The resort admin was extremely grateful for Karen’s information and honesty – since the camp has strict access policies for children who aren’t potty trained. The office woman expanded that she was in luck since a three-bed family cabin had just been canceled on and had 4 weeks of availability. She further explained that it was two rooms with queen beds and a third room that was designed as nursery/special needs room. She wanted to make sure this one was okay with her, since it was equipped with a large built in changing table, twin sized toddler daybed with a detachable front gate and a rocking chair. Also, she added that the room’s additional fee included complimentary access to ALL kids camp programs, which were accessible to children under the age of 17. Karen realized that she was being a bit dishonest here but knew that Kyle could easily pass for a teenager with his small size and baby face. “We’ll take it Miss, thank you for all your help we really look forward to checking in and enjoying our stay.” She got off the phone and went up to Kayla’s room where she was reading – she needed to fill her in on what was happening and how she’d be needed to support this. “Hey honey we need to talk” Karen said to her daughter. “Sure mom whats up?” Kayle responded. Karen explained the situation to her - Kayla although somewhat confused and frankly a bit amused seemed to grasp the plan and agreed to be supportive of everything her mother and Candice wanted to do. With that Karen grabbed her keys and with Kayla were off to the store to get supplies for the 3 week vacation that they were sure to never forget. CHAPTER 2: WAKING UP TO NEW RULES It was Monday morning at 8 AM – the day of the long journey to Maine. Karen walked into Kyle’s room to start the day and get things moving, She had planned this out in her head a thousand times the night before. He was still sound asleep and she was not surprised to smell the extremely strong smell of urine in the air – Kyle had wet himself in his sleep once again. Karen gently shook him awake, as Kyle stirred and slowly opened his eyes his mother in the most sweet tone she could muster said, “Sweety – it’s time to get up we have a very big day ahead of us. You had a big accident last night honey, you go shower to go get cleaned up and come back in here so we can get everything ready” Kyle was dazed and confused, his mother never came in his room like this but he figured it was a big day ahead so she was just trying to move things along. With less shame than usual as this had become more routine, Kyle said “I’m sorry mom, I didn’t mean to have another accident – yah okay I’ll go jump in the shower right now” she gave him a sympathetic stare and said “aww its okay my sweet boy, you couldn’t help it – just go get all clean and come back in here for a little chat when you’re finished. We just need to talk a little, don’t worry we’ll get everything sorted out” He nodded cautiously, a bit embarrassed by his mother’s tone and somewhat concerned by what she wanted to talk about. He jumped out of bed quickly to escape the situation and headed as quickly as possible to the bathroom across the hall. While in the shower – Karen got his bed stripped, put on the new plastic sheet she’d purchased the night before and brought in the new bag she had packed for Kyle which she would be showing him as they discussed the new rules he was going to have for summer. After a nice hot shower, Kyle came back in his room wrapped in a towel, his small frame was totally exposed and he was a bit timid to be so bare in front of his mother. His mother had pulled up a chair next to his bed and patted the soft plastic sheet saying “Okay Kyle come sit down, we need to have a talk” Kyle nodded his head and although he wanted to protest, he knew better with his mother and didn’t want to risk having a fight right before they went on vacation. He was somewhat upset by the new plastic sheet on his bed but was not surprised and thought it was rational in a lot of ways. He nodded his head and went and took a seat on the side of his bed. His mother spoke sternly but calmly “Kyle you’re just going to listen to what I have to say and not interrupt me – do you understand – I will tell you when I’m finished, if you interrupt me you will be punished and will not like it” Kyle nodded his head and began to realize this was going to be more than he had expected. “That’s a good boy – so as you know we’re going on our little trip today. The past few weeks you’ve been having a lot of trouble with the potty and it is time we address this issue” Kyle winced at his mother using the word potty, is seemed so childish and demeaning but he continued to listen to his mother “We are in a tough situation here, I simply can’t have you wetting the bed or your pants while we are on vacation. Especially since there is no way for me to do laundry, you could damage the bed in our cabin and plus it is just too much work for me to deal with while I’m trying to relax on vacation. As you know Candice and Karly will be joining us on our trip to Black Bear and will be riding up with us in the car today. I’ve spoken with Candice about your “situation” and we determined that the next few weeks is the perfect opportunity to deal with your problems and help you along. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress and we want to help you release that stress and get over your fear of failure.” Kyle as this point was terrified, what could his mother be talking about and why did she tell Candice about his bedwetting! Still Kyle remained silent and let his mother finish, she continued “I’ve decided that from a practical standpoint, you’ll need to be wearing protection during this trip. That means at night you’ll be wearing a diaper and during the day you’ll be wearing goodnite pull ups. Do not protest, I know you wet your pants the other day and hid it from me.” Kyle was dumbstruck but stayed silent, he new better than to interrupt his mother in these moments. “Further I’ve decided with Candice’s guidance that we should let you have some time to be free of responsibility and give you extra attention during this time. I promise this is going to be good for you and you’ll really enjoy it once you get past some of the natural embarrassment. You do not need to worry about being teased or anything, Kayla, myself and Candice are all on board here. So during the next three weeks, you’re going to be treated a bit like Karly, instead of a 20 years old – we’re going to give you the attention and supervision that a 3 year old would need. Not on everything but on little things. That means there are new rules you need to be aware of: We need to keep track of your potty time and give attention to your bedwetting. As I said you’ll be wearing protection at all times. Diapers will be required at night. You’re not allowed to remove your diapers on your own, an adult will be putting them on you and changing you out of them. During the day, unless deemed otherwise, you’ll be in pull ups. When you need to use the potty, you will come get an adult who will take you to use to bathroom, this will encourage you to be more attentive and will make sure you have no embarrassing accidents. Secondly – if you have an accident in your pull up, you’ll be put in diapers for the rest of the day and the bathroom will be off limits until the following day. We can’t be having accidents all the time. During our stay – we’ve arranged a family cabin. You’ll be staying in your own special room which is setup to accommodate your needs. The first week, your bedtime is going to be 8 PM. I will get you ready for bed an hour early, make sure you’re fed and bathed before bedtime. If you’re good and behave, we can talk about later bedtimes the 2nd and 3rd week. If you misbehave you’ll be subject time outs and if it gets to it, I will spank you if you disobey me, Kayla or Candice. You're required to be under adult supervision at all times. No going anywhere with out me, Kayla or Candice. When we are doing adult activities during our stay, you’ll be going with Karly to Kid's camp. We’ve arranged it all and you’ll be in good hands there. Staff are aware of you potty issues and they have specific rules/policies that you’ll need to follow. I will be picking out your outfits, bathing you and taking care of most things for you so you can focus just on having fun and relaxing during this trip. “Keep in mind, this is not just to address your potty problems but also something we’ve determined will be a therapy to help you overcome your crippling anxiety. I know you want that for yourself, so I hope you can be mature about this and let yourself enjoy this treatment for what it is. If you refuse, then I’ve made arrangements for you to stay at the University Hospital over the next three weeks in the Psychiatric ward – for an experimental drug therapy which I think you’d find to be… well not very fun. Okay so with that, I’ve said what I need to say and you’re free to respond.” Kyle looked down at the floor with and clenched his hands in fist. How on earth could his mother be doing this to him. This was so incredibly bizarre. How could he – a 20 year old man be reduced to wearing diapers and being treated like a child. Beyond the legality of it – he figured it was just crazy, however he knew he was in a pickle. His mother has a lot of power and knew the law incredibly well – he was not about to go to the Psychiatric ward – he’d been there before a few years ago when he took a bunch of pills and did not want to go back. He gathered the courage to respond and held back as much malice in his voice as he could, “I, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me! I do not deserve this… I mean I’ll wear diapers at night, that I can at least understand but why do I have to be treated like a toddler! That is simply ridiculous. Can I just wear the diapers, I’ll even let you change me if that makes things easier… I just can’t imagine going through all this.” Kyle pleaded aggressively. His mother stood up and sternly said “Kyle this situation has been evaluated and the plan is in place, either you accept this or we make the call right now and have you in the hospital this afternoon. This choice is up to you” Kyle looked was furious but he was deflated and staired at the floor. Karen calmy took her seat and put her hand on his knee “Honey I promise you’re going to have a lot of fun these next three weeks and it’s going to be good for all of us.” She gently tilted up his head and looked in his eyes “So baby, can you be brave boy for me and go along with what we have planned – we know what is best for you and this is going to help so much.” Kyle was tearing up and although he was upset at the whole situation – he knew his trade off and he had little choice but to comply. Kyle nodded his head begrudgingly and his mother smiled. “Awww that is my good boy, well we’re going to make this a trip to remember. So I have some things to show you and we need to get you ready for the big road trip”. With that his mother reached under his bed and pulled out an extra-large light blue suit case with Mickey mouse cartoon characters running all over it. This made Kyle blush in embarrassment. “So this has everything we need for your trip but I went ahead and got some of your swimsuits and regular clothes in there too for the last few weeks. Let’s get you all ready for the big car ride little guy” Karen walked over to the closet and came back with some clothes in her hand and to his surprise she was holding a big white diaper, with powder and lotion. “Mom – I thought you said I was going to be in pull-ups during the day?” Kyle asked – he was so embarrassed that he was actually begging to be able to wear a pull up, this was insane. His mother replied “Look we have a 6 hour car ride and we can’t be stopping every few minutes for you baby. Plus you always nod off in the car and your pull ups just wouldn’t hold a big wetting like that. This is for the best and plus – I said you’d be in diaper as “deemed” necessary so lay down on your bed and we’ll get you all ready” Kyle was flabbergasted, this was happening so quickly. In that moment he was paralyzed and just did what his mother asked. He laid down and closed his eyes so incredibly embarrassed on what was about to happen. His mother peeled away the front of the towel and exposed her naked little boy. She was surprised to see Kyle had no pubic hair, but she remembered that she had always bought him extra razors for him to shave his legs, he just preferred it as a runner – I guess he did it all the way up. With her little boy exposed she proceeded to lifting up his legs and having him hold them in position. She fluffed out the thick disposable and tucked it neatly underneath his bottom. She then proceeded to rub lotion on him and dust him with baby powder. She had him lower his legs, so she could do the front and then fit the diaper snugly over him. Taping each side securely in place. She knew in a few days this would become very routine and was actually surprised by how much fulfillment she was getting out of caring for her little boy. “Okay sweety that wasn’t so bad, you can open your eyes now you’re all done” She said softly to him hoping this wasn’t too much for her son. Kyle leaned upward feeling the new padding between his legs. It was humiliating but he was surprised with how comfortable it was, the fresh powder and lotion giving him an odd sensation. The brief moment of calm was disrupted by his mother saying “Okay arms up for me” He complied and his mother put a light blue smoky the bear T-shirt on him, he was about to protest but she was too quick. He was simply mortified by what she had for him next... “Alright little one let’s get you to step in your cute little outfit I picked out special for today” What she held out for him what was unmistakably a dark blue denim short-alls, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they were girls as they were uncommon for men but no doubt they were his size and would fit him. Again, he didn’t see any other thing to do but to listen to his mother. So with one foot and then the other he stepped into his new childish garment. His mother asked him to stand up as she pulled the shorts over his diaper hand secured the buckles of each strap over his shoulder. He could feel his diaper underneath pushing up between his legs and he was blushing red at the babyish feeling he was getting from being dressed like this by his mother. He simply couldn’t believe this was happening to him and stared in defeat at the floor, afraid to even glance at himself in the mirror. His mother gushed “Oh my you just look so adorable, already for our big adventure!" To be continued...