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Guys, I would like to reveal this work, it is a collab with my friend Abdl_barbie, follow her on Wattpad, I will show you the cover first, I hope you like it, please comment what you think of the writing, if you like it, it is very important If you guys can come here and help me too: Blue Blood, Silk Ties Summary: Prologue: The Kingdom of Gallia had once been a place of legend and promise. The ancients said that there had been a time when justice was balanced, the people had a voice, and the cities flourished with hope. But those times were swallowed up by the rise of the nobility, the return of absolute monarchy, and the rule of the so-called Amazons. Versellieux, the capital, was the mirror of this world of extremes. Its imposing palaces, such as the renovated Palace of Versailles, gleamed under gold and stained glass windows, where the aristocracy gathered for splendid banquets and balls. Vast gardens and marble statues adorned every corner of the city, and luxurious carriages roamed its wide streets. But beyond the golden gates, far from the high ivory towers, lay the real Gallia—the kingdom of the peasants, the Littles, the hungry. In the village of Rochefort-sur-Lac, the reality was quite different. Surrounded by dense forests and a crystal-clear lake, the natural beauty of the place contrasted with the poverty of its inhabitants. The work was hard, the harvests were always insufficient, and opportunities were scarce. The people survived as best they could, and two main ways of ensuring some sustenance were to be found: arranged marriages in which their daughters were sold to the bourgeoisie, and, the most profitable, by giving their sons to the nobles, making them their "Little Babies". Families who accepted this fate received a generous allowance, a temporary comfort, but it came at the cost of separation and the unknown. In the countryside, far from the glitter of Versellieux, stood the Château de Clairciel, home of the influential Maison de Montreuil family. The stone mansion, surrounded by ancient woods and a vast lake, was a monument to tradition and secrets. The patriarch, Louis-Auguste de Montreuil, and his wife, Éléonore de Montreuil, maintained their aristocratic practices and habits with rigidity. Their children, Philippe, the haughty heir, Victoire, the cunning and ambitious, and Geneviève, the youngest and most mysterious, grew up under a regime of refinement and absolute control. Between balls, hunts and whispers in the corridors of the château, the family reigned like titans over Rochefort-sur-Lac. Emilia, a young woman from the village, knew this reality well. A teenager and a mushroom collector, she spent her days in the forest, collecting everything she could sell to help her family. Beside her was Eveline, a stunning beauty, who supported herself by selling handmade necklaces to merchants and travelers. Stephanie, a strong woman marked by life, tried to survive after the recent loss of her husband, counting the coins to support her household. These three women, each with their own pain and dreams, were just a few among many who lived in the shadow of the nobles, trapped in a destiny they did not choose. While Versellieux shone with its luxurious balls and the Château de Clairciel maintained its aura of mystery and oppression, Rochefort-sur-Lac resisted, like a flame about to be suffocated by the wind. But something was about to happen. Emilia could feel it in the air – the wind whispered, the leaves rustled. The world of Gallia wou

Hi everyone, this story is based on an RPG adventure I created. I'm creating an RPG system. I'll talk about it soon, but all the sections I created will be in a document. You can access them at this link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ohfvIm2g2SAu0UVZANYQptS1TVVUxmp7DGG5OtetDfM/edit?usp=sharing As usual, comment on what you think of the story. If you have any knowledge of LitRPG, you can help me. PROLOGUE Arcadia Institute had always been a place shrouded in mystery. Located in a secluded area surrounded by dense forests and mountains, the renowned boarding school was synonymous with academic excellence and strict discipline. It was a competitive place, where every student carried the weight of expectations from powerful parents. But there was something more to Arcadia, something that was never openly spoken about. Stacy was new here. The daughter of successful executives, accustomed to a life of comfort, she had never had to compete for her place before. With her crisp white shirt, red skirt, red vest, and blue tie, she felt uncomfortably out of place. Her friends called her “melted butter,” but she wanted to prove that she was more than that. Maybe Arcadia was the perfect opportunity. On the first day, as Stacy walked into the sunlit classroom, she tried to control her nervousness. “Hi, I’m Stacy, nice to meet you,” she said with a hesitant smile. A few heads looked up; others barely noticed. The first two periods were literature classes, and although Stacy loved the discussions, she was too tense to make conversation with her classmates. The boarding school was impressive, consisting of a spacious cafeteria, single-sex dormitories, a gymnasium, and several modern classrooms. But what really caught her attention were the large outdoor spaces, with perfect gardens and study areas. It was a beautiful place, but it hid something strange. As she walked down the hallway to put away her supplies, Stacy bumped into another student and accidentally spilled her water bottle. "Oh, crap!" the now wet girl exclaimed as she tried to clean her uniform. Before Stacy could apologize, the student gave her a glare and stomped off. In the middle of the incident, another student approached. She was short, with short hair and a mischievous expression. "You really don't know what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" the stranger said. "What do you mean?" Stacy asked, confused. "The girl you got wet... you don't recognize her?" "I have no idea who she is." "Then good luck. Your nightmare is now called Mia," the girl continued, with a nervous laugh. "She loves to abuse authority. She likes to turn girls like you into babies." "Wait... what?" Stacy frowned. "What do you mean 'babies'?" The other student, who introduced herself as Nery, immediately realized she had said too much and quickly walked away. "Turn them into babies? Is this some kind of joke?" Stacy thought. But something was off. In the hallway, she saw a student with a skirt slightly shorter than the standard uniform, revealing something unusual: what looked like... a diaper? And it wasn't just one student. Several girls had the same detail. Stacy shook her head in disbelief. "This can't be serious." Later that day, as she passed the bathroom, she heard voices. Inside, she saw the same girl who had gotten wet trying to dry her uniform with paper towels, furious. "She's going to pay for it," the girl muttered. Stacy heard enough to know that something was about to happen. Later, as she walked through the empty hallways, Mia appeared, blocking her path. With light brown hair and a spotless uniform, Mia looked like something out of a magazine. It was clear that she was the "queen bee" of the place, the center of attention and power. “You must be the new girl, Stacy, right?” Mia said, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Hi, Mia. It seems you already know who I am.” “Sure. I know everything about everyone here. And I know you owe me an apology.” “Why? Because of the water?” Stacy crossed her arms. “It was an accident.” “It doesn’t matter. I make the rules here. Everyone walks as I say.” Mia stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “And if you don’t toe the line, well…” She tilted her head, her eyes predatory. “You’re my baby.” Stacy took a step back, but Mia grabbed her skirt, trying to lift it like a child’s. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Stacy firmly pushed Mia’s hands away. “You’ve got attitude, I like that. But don’t kid yourself.” Soon, you’ll understand who’s in charge here. Stacy gave her a cold smile and walked away. “Try as you will, Mia. You won’t succeed.” As she walked away, she could feel Mia’s icy gaze on her back. She knew she had just made an enemy. But she also knew something else: Arcadia was much more than a competitive boarding school. There was something dark going on here, and Stacy was determined to find out what it was

Prologue: A kidnapping in Maine leads to a long investigation for Special Agent Paul, who will have to work as a team Hi, let me introduce myself, I'm Lola and I want to try to write an abdl story that mixes criminal investigation, this story is based on series of the genre, I hope you like it, please leave comments with criticism, praise and improvement, I'll make it clear that English is not my native language spelling and punctuation errors may occur Chapter 01 In picturesque southern Maine, a short, blonde girl ran along the wooded trails of a local park. Wearing a neon orange shirt with the word L.E.C printed on it and pink leggings, she enjoyed the sunny day while working out. Benson, as she was known, was a popular figure on social media, with a profile full of photos of herself showing her routine and her friends, she was a blogger, while she was running, Benson took her cell phone out of her pocket and captured a photo of the stunning scenery. around you. Excited by the prospect of sharing her activity with her followers, she posted the image on her social networks, adding the hashtag #vidaaoarlivre. Satisfied with the post, she continued her run, holding a bottle of water to stay hydrated. However, a small accident happened. Benson absentmindedly spilled some water on her pants. Although the incident was barely noticeable to most people, a young brown-haired woman was watching her closely from a nearby bench. Seeing the situation, she quickly got up and started running towards Benson. Upon reaching her, the woman accidentally hit Benson and immediately apologized: "Sorry, oops! It looks like I spilled water on you." The woman was also carrying a bottle of water, showing a strange coincidence. Benson replied casually, "Don't worry, it's no big deal." However, the lady insisted, offering a solution: "Let's go to the bathroom. That way you can clean yourself better." Benson, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the woman's insistence, hesitated for a moment. She didn't have much strength to resist, and before she could say anything, the woman grabbed her hand and started dragging her towards the park's bathroom. However, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The woman was determined and showed no signs of stopping. In a moment of desperation, Benson began to think something was wrong. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt a sudden dizziness take over her body. Before she could understand what was happening, the woman, with a cloth in hand, roughly placed it over Benson's mouth. The cloth gave off a strange odor, and the girl felt increasingly weak. It was as if some kind of sleeping medication was mixed into that fabric. The brown-haired woman went unnoticed by other people in the park, acting like any mother with a child. Her car, an ordinary black SUV, didn't attract attention. Opening the back door of the vehicle revealed a car seat used for children. Carefully, she placed Benson in the car seat and fastened the seat belts, treating her as if she were a child. Taking advantage of the situation, the woman inserted a pacifier into Benson's mouth, as if she was trying to maintain the appearance of an ordinary, harmless child. Once everything was ready, the woman quickly left, heading away from the park and southern Maine. The fate was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Benson was being taken away against her will. -------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, in Washington, D.C., a young special agent named Paul was lying in his bed, resting, when he received an unexpected call. When he answered, he heard a familiar woman's voice: "Special Agent Paul." She was Monica Martinez, the head of the F.N.C agency (FBI, NCIS and CIA) and a high-ranking figure in the intelligence service hierarchy. Monica got straight to the point: "There's been a kidnapping in Maine. I need you immediately. Come here in ten minutes." Paul recognized the seriousness of the situation and the urgent tone in his boss's voice. He quickly responded, "Okay, I'll be there." Paul hung up the phone

Hello and happy new year to all. I was playing a bit with ChatGPT and let it write a story for me. It is completely written by the AI, with just a not so long prompt. But it got kind of big. I thought some people might enjoy the story. It has minor AI related inconsistencies, but I think it's still a good read. So just have fun! Edit: I let it write a kind of similar story, but still kind of different plot. I really don't know if anyone even cares for that stories, but I wanted another, so if anyone wants to read it, it's here. Since I don't want to take away the audience from real writers with real talents, I just added the second story here and didn't create a new topic. Meredith's Control Chapter One: A Curious Arrangement Leon tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, standing on his tiptoes in front of the bathroom mirror, straining just to catch his reflection. His girlfriend, Meredith, was out in the living room, busily typing away at her laptop. She always had some major project at work: big team meetings, presentations for important clients, constant video conferences. Yet, she somehow always found time to keep a very close eye on him. He tried to flatten his hair, which always seemed to puff up on top of his head in a boyish swirl. At just around four feet seven inches tall, Leon had a slender, childlike build despite being eighteen years old. When Meredith—who stood at a majestic six foot one—first noticed him at a local coffee shop a few months ago, he was enamored by her confidence, her sultry laugh, and her commanding presence. Their relationship moved quickly. Too quickly for some. But for Leon, nothing could compare to the sense of protection and enthrallment he felt around her. In truth, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Meredith’s control over him stretched into the smallest corners of his day: from what he wore and how he styled his hair, to even how he used the bathroom. She managed every routine, every decision. While he sometimes complained, he also found himself secretly liking the structure. It made him feel cared for, oddly comforted. He felt guilty for resisting her, even when he found her rules embarrassing. Leon could hear the rattle of keys in the living room as Meredith shut her laptop. It was probably time to go through the day’s itinerary—a list she insisted on reviewing with him every morning. Leon sighed. He was still wearing pajamas because she had specifically told him not to get dressed by himself that day. Apparently, she had something “special” lined up for him. Slinking out of the bathroom, he walked into the living room, noticing how the top of his head barely reached the bottom of Meredith’s chest. She looked up at him, one eyebrow arched. “You’re late,” she stated in a clipped tone, tapping the face of her silver watch. “I was just—” he began, but her expression silenced him. “I already told you: no excuses. Today is a busy day for me, and I can’t have you making us run behind. Now come here.” She patted the seat of the couch next to her. Her voice carried such authority that he instantly felt a pang of guilt. He obeyed, sitting down. His tiny form sank into the cushion, emphasizing how small he was compared to her. Gently, she rested a large hand on his thigh, letting him know she wasn’t angry—just strict. Their eyes met, and there was a softness beneath her stern facade. “I have to go to the office for some time, but I’ll be back before dinner,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ll stay here. I’ve laid out clothes for you in the bedroom. You’re not to leave the apartment until I get back. Is that clear?” Leon nodded. “Yes, Meredith.” He could feel an odd mix of relief and apprehension. She was going out, but his instructions were so rigid. It felt a little lonely, spending hours in the apartment by himself with such restrictions—especially since he needed permission for almost everything. “Also…” She paused, studying his face. “Have you gone potty yet this morning?” Leon’s cheeks flushed. That question was always mortifying, though he had grown somewhat used to it. Meredith demanded to know about every trip to the bathroom. “Yes,” he mumbled, “right when I woke up.” “Good.” She turned back to her phone, tapping at some notifications. “Remember: no more breaks until lunchtime. If you have to go, wait for me to come home. I don’t want to find out you disobeyed me.” Her instructions were specific and strict. He’d been told only to use the bathroom at set times, always with her permission. Yesterday, he nearly had an accident holding it until she got back from a grocery run. As embarrassing as it felt to beg for the toilet, it was even more humiliating to lose control. But Meredith liked it that way—and, if he was honest, a small part of him thrilled at the notion of surrender. “All right,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper. Meredith patted his thigh one last time before she stood up, towering over him. She bent slightly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Be good. Don’t get into trouble.” Leon felt goosebumps on his arms. “I promise I’ll be good.” She flashed him a knowing grin, then picked up her handbag and left, locking the door behind her with a decisive click. Leon stared at the door for several moments. The apartment, though cozy, suddenly felt huge without her presence. His instructions were clear: get dressed in the clothes she chose, don’t leave the apartment, and most importantly—no bathroom breaks until lunch, when she planned to return. He exhaled. This was his life now. Part of him wanted to rebel, to say that enough was enough. But part of him loved her so much that he convinced himself he needed this, needed her. And so, with a subdued swirl of excitement and anxiety, Leon walked to the bedroom to see what she had laid out for him. Chapter Two: A Childish Wardrobe When Leon opened the bedroom door, his cheeks immediately reddened. Spread across the bed was an outfit he would have never chosen for himself: a pair of powder-blue shortalls, complete with little silver snaps running down the sides, and a plain white t-shirt to go underneath. Next to it lay ankle socks with tiny cartoon puppies stitched into the cuffs. At the foot of the bed sat bright white Velcro sneakers—another childlike touch. He inhaled a shaky breath. This was far from the most juvenile outfit Meredith had ever selected, but it still made him feel about ten years old rather than eighteen. Even if he wanted to choose something else, he knew he was not allowed. From the first week he moved in, Meredith had insisted on taking over all dressing responsibilities, often physically clothing him herself. This morning, however, she’d made an exception by laying out the outfit in advance—probably because she was in a hurry. Leon glanced at the time on his phone: 8:42 AM. He had a while before lunch, and already he could feel an uncomfortable tightness in his bladder. He’d used the bathroom upon waking up, but the morning coffee he’d had earlier was catching up to him. He swallowed hard. Meredith had said no more potty visits until she came back at noon. He tried to ignore the discomfort, telling himself she’d only be gone a few hours. With a resigned sigh, he plucked the T-shirt off the bed. He peeled off his pajama top, then slipped the T-shirt on. Finally, he lifted the shortalls and stepped into them, struggling to pull the straps over his shoulders until he heard the tiny snaps click. They fit snugly, cupping his narrow hips and accentuating how slender he was. The Velcro shoes went on last. He looked at himself in the standing mirror and cringed. The shortalls ended high on his thighs, making him look about as intimidating as a toddler. He could feel his heart pounding as he went back into the living room, half-expecting someone to be standing there laughing at him. But of course, the apartment was empty. He sank down on the sofa, turning on the TV. Maybe he could distract himself with some cartoons or a movie. He was too nervous to watch the news or a serious program. Subconsciously, he gravitated toward more childish things—something that matched how Meredith dressed him. He flicked through streaming channels until he found an old animated movie from his childhood. While it played, his mind kept drifting to the subtle pressure below his abdomen. It had been only a few weeks of abiding by her “no bathroom without permission” rule, but it was long enough that his body felt confused, uncertain when relief was actually allowed. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The anxiety made him want to push the feeling away, yet focusing on it seemed inevitable. Time ticked by painfully slowly: 9:00… 9:15… 9:30… By 10:00, Leon was shifting in his seat, crossing his legs, and trying to stay calm. He was determined not to break the rules—he never wanted to face Meredith’s anger or disappointment. But if she didn’t come home in time… He shook his head. She said noon. You can hold it until noon, he told himself. He’d done it before. He’d do it again. Memories of the last time he disobeyed raced through his mind. About a week ago, she’d caught him sneaking off to the bathroom while she was out. He was wearing a childish onesie she had chosen, and the second she returned, he’d practically run past her toward the toilet. She noticed the onesie was unbuttoned. He’d undone it on his own. She was upset, not screaming or raging, but cold and disappointed. That, to him, was worse than any punishment. So he’d do what she wanted: hold it. By 11:15, he was practically shaking. He paced around the living room, turning the TV off because he couldn’t focus. The pressure was building painfully, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last. Finally, at 11:45, he heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Meredith stepped in, the faint smell of crisp autumn air swirling around her. She closed the door, set her purse down, and immediately looked at him with curiosity. “Hello, sweetie. How was your morning?” Leon let out a trembling breath. “It’s been okay. I… I’m glad you’re home.” She slipped off her jacket, revealing a form-fitting blouse and a knee-length skirt. She looked immaculate, her tall silhouette making him feel ridiculously small. “Did you follow the rules?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Leon nodded vigorously. “Yes. I haven’t gone to the bathroom since you left, and—Meredith, please, can I—?” She shrugged, setting her handbag on the counter. “Let me think about it.” A slow, playful grin slid across her face. Leon felt heat rise to his cheeks. He crossed his legs again, pressing them together. “Please,” he repeated, bouncing slightly in place. “Come with me to the bathroom,” she said quietly. He exhaled in relief and trailed behind her. The moment they reached the bathroom door, she turned around, blocking his entrance with an arm. “You waited, right?” “Yes,” he rasped. “Good boy.” She unfastened the shortall straps and helped him wriggle out of the garment, leaving him standing there in just his T-shirt, socks, and shoes. “All right, you may go.” She gave him a light nudge inside, standing in the doorway as if monitoring him. Usually, she supervised his toilet visits to make sure he wasn’t disobeying any hidden rules. He quickly tried to focus, lifting the seat and finally letting go. Relief flooded him, but his cheeks were bright red knowing she was right there, watching. Yet this was their arrangement—something he had grown used to, in his own shy way. When he finished, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper of relief. Meredith smiled, nodding with approval. “You did well. I see no accidents,” she remarked, scanning the front of his T-shirt. Leon’s heart still pounded with the aftershock of nearly losing control. “No,” he managed to say. “No accidents.” “Good,” she repeated, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you for holding it in.” His insides fluttered at the praise. He always craved her approval. Despite the embarrassment, the rules, the slight fear, there was a warm satisfaction that came from pleasing her. “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the bathroom. “Time for lunch. Then we’ll talk about the rest of the day.” Chapter Three: The Strict Afternoon After lunch—sandwiches she prepared while he stood on a stool at the counter, helping slice tomatoes—Meredith announced she’d be working from home the remainder of the day. She had a stack of documents to handle. Leon hovered in the kitchen, uncertain what she expected of him next. She noticed his anxious glance and beckoned him closer. “It’s going to be a long work session. I need to focus,” she said. “I’ll be in the study. You can watch TV or do something quiet in the living room. But no phone calls and no computer games without permission.” Leon nodded, fiddling with the hem of his shortalls. “Okay,” he murmured. “Do I have to do anything… else?” She tilted her head. “You mean chores?” He shrugged. “Chores, or errands, or something.” “I think you can handle cleaning your room,” she said. “I’ll inspect it later. And you are to ask me if you need to use the potty, understood?” He swallowed. “Yes, Meredith.” “All right. Off you go. And remember, I’ll be checking on you.” With that, she swept away into the study, closing the door behind her. Leon glanced at the clock: 12:40 PM. The next scheduled bathroom break was usually around mid-afternoon—unless he asked for special permission, which she sometimes granted, sometimes didn’t. He made his way to the bedroom to tidy up the bedclothes. After that, he dusted and vacuumed a little, determined to impress her by staying productive. As the minutes passed, he periodically glanced at the closed study door, tempted to peek his head in and see if she wanted coffee or something. But he dreaded disturbing her. She hated interruptions when she was concentrating. Eventually, Leon returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. The cartoon from earlier was still paused. He pressed play, letting the colorful images fill the screen. But he found it hard to relax. There was a growing sense of tension, deep down in his bladder again. Maybe that second glass of water at lunch was a bad idea. He tried to focus on the cartoon’s cheerful scenes—singing characters, bright backdrops, comedic moments. Time crawled: 1:00… 1:15… 1:30… By 2:00, the pressure was noticeable. Leon bit his lip, glancing at the study door again. Should he ask? Meredith might see it as a sign of weakness or defiance if he kept interrupting her schedule. But the alternative was risking an accident. He rummaged through the coffee table’s drawers to distract himself, coming across old board games and puzzle books. He found a half-completed crossword puzzle from weeks ago, the squares filled in by Meredith’s neat penmanship. He sighed, trying to pass the time, but the throbbing need in his abdomen kept gnawing at his thoughts. Finally, at 2:15, he couldn’t take it anymore. He padded softly over to the study door, raising his fist to knock. He hesitated, heart pounding. She was probably on a call. But if he waited any longer, something worse could happen. Summoning courage, he gave a gentle knock. “Who is it?” came her curt voice. “It’s me,” Leon answered timidly. “I… um… I need to ask you something.” “Come in.” He eased the door open. Meredith sat behind a large wooden desk, papers scattered around a laptop. She looked up, removing her glasses. “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a low whisper, “but I really need to use the restroom.” Her lips formed a thin line. “Is it that urgent?” Leon shifted on his feet, nodding. “Kind of. I’ve been trying to hold it for a while.” Meredith let out a slow exhale, then glanced at the clock on her computer. “We were going to do that at three o’clock. But you are asking nicely…” He clasped his hands in front of him, trying to stand as still as possible. “Please, Meredith?” She pondered for a moment. “All right. But I’m going to watch, to make sure everything’s done properly. And no fussing.” His eyes widened, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Standing up from her chair, she followed him to the bathroom. This time, she didn’t bother to unfasten his shortalls. Instead, she did it for him, as always—though with an air of slight annoyance. “Arms up,” she said, guiding the straps down. Leon turned away from her, aiming to close the door, but she stepped inside too. She always came in with him, but this time the closeness felt more imposing. “Hurry up,” she commanded. Leon’s face was practically on fire with embarrassment, but the need to relieve himself overcame his self-consciousness. He managed to get everything positioned and released. A soft gasp of relief escaped his lips. Meredith observed him carefully. When he was done, she helped him secure his shortalls back into place, snapping the straps. Then she turned on the sink faucet and waited while he washed his hands under her watchful gaze. “I won’t always let you do this,” she said softly. “I have rules for a reason. It’s important you learn how to follow them.” Leon nodded, shoulders slumping. He felt like a child receiving a reprimand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just really couldn’t wait.” She gently ruffled his hair. “Shh. It’s all right. Let’s get you back to your day.” And just like that, she returned to her study, leaving him alone in the hallway with the odd, lingering mix of relief and lingering shame. Chapter Four: Footed Sleeper Evenings Late afternoon arrived without further incident. Leon busied himself around the apartment, occasionally hearing Meredith’s voice from the study. She sounded professional and confident, reminding him of just how impressive she was in her career—and, in turn, how small he felt next to her in every regard. By the time 6:30 PM rolled around, Meredith emerged from the study, stretching her arms overhead. Her sharp gaze swept over the living room and kitchen. “Looks clean,” she commented, nodding at Leon. “Good job.” He felt a small glow of pride at her words. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you finish everything?” “Mostly,” she replied with a sigh. “I still have a bit more to do after dinner. How about you start setting the table while I check something in the bedroom?” Leon hopped up to obey, walking to the kitchen cabinets to gather plates and cutlery. He arranged them neatly, making sure everything was symmetrical—knowing she appreciated order. He placed two glasses and a set of napkins in perfect alignment, then set out the salt and pepper. Satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work. He glanced toward the bedroom, wondering what Meredith was up to. She was probably laying out his pajamas. That’s how every evening went: after dinner, she would dress him in some form of childlike sleepwear—often footed sleepers, sometimes with childish prints. If he was especially fidgety or whiny, she’d zip it in the back, removing his ability to unzip it himself. Some nights, she put on mittens, ensuring he couldn’t fiddle with the zipper. Part of him squirmed at the thought, but another part thrummed with excitement. Despite the occasional embarrassment, he found a peculiar comfort in the ritual of being tucked into bed by her. He relished the warmth of her presence, the bubble of security she created around him. She emerged a few minutes later, a sly smile on her face. “Dinner time,” she announced. “Let’s eat.” Dinner consisted of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a small portion of rice. Leon ate quietly, occasionally meeting Meredith’s eyes. She asked him about his day, praising him for keeping busy without fussing too much. He felt an uptick of pride at her approval. However, halfway through the meal, she cleared her throat. “I noticed something when I laid out your sleeper,” she began, fixing him with a steady look. “Some of your underwear had faint stains. Care to explain?” Leon nearly choked on his chicken. He stared at her, face burning. “I… I—It’s just… from earlier,” he stammered. “I was holding it for so long, I guess maybe I leaked a little?” She narrowed her eyes. “So you had a little accident?” He stared at his plate, nodding miserably. “Y-yes, but just a tiny bit, I swear.” Meredith set her fork down. “Hmm. That’s unfortunate. After all the trust I gave you to wait until lunch, then again this afternoon. You said you managed, but apparently, you leaked enough to stain your underwear.” Leon gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. It wasn’t a full accident. Just a little leak.” “Regardless,” she said, her voice cool, “it shows you’re not fully in control.” His eyes pricked with tears. “Please don’t be mad.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not angry, Leon. But I’m disappointed that you’re struggling with such a simple rule. If waiting is causing you accidents, perhaps we need a more secure solution.” Her words sent a chill through him. “Wh-what do you mean?” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Let’s finish dinner, and we’ll discuss it when we get you ready for bed.” Leon nodded, his appetite diminishing. He forced the rest of his vegetables down in silence, mind spinning with worry and humiliation. He had a feeling he knew what she meant by a ‘more secure solution.’ Chapter Five: An Unexpected Development After dinner, Meredith tasked Leon with loading the dishwasher. He did so mechanically, hands slightly shaking. He couldn’t stop thinking about her cryptic mention of a “secure solution.” Could she mean what he thought she did? She disappeared back into the bedroom. By the time he finished in the kitchen, she called his name. “Leon,” she said, standing in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. “Come here.” He approached hesitantly, heart hammering. She guided him inside, where the lamp on the nightstand cast a warm glow across the bed. Laid out on the duvet was a footed sleeper, a soft pastel-green color with a subtle pattern of tiny stars. Its zipper ran up the front, but a small padlock mechanism was threaded through the zipper pull. Next to it on the bed was a folded, puffy item. Leon’s stomach dropped. It was a diaper—a large, adult-sized diaper with cartoonish designs across the padding. He stared, speechless. His mind reeled. Sure, Meredith had teased about diapers before, mostly in a half-joking manner when he slipped up or whined too much. But he never thought she’d actually follow through. They were both adults, after all. Even if she treated him as if he were younger, diapers still felt like an extreme step. “I… I…” he started, but no words came out. Meredith cocked her head, her tall frame radiating authority. “These are for nights when you can’t maintain control,” she said calmly. “You’ve proven that you sometimes have accidents while trying to follow the rules. I don’t want you ruining your underwear or the sheets.” Leon’s face burned. “B-but… I—” She held up a hand. “Shh. We’re trying this tonight. Hopefully, it will teach you to be more mindful of your potty breaks when they’re scheduled. If you truly have no accidents, maybe we won’t need these. But for now…” She motioned to the diaper. “Take off your clothes.” He hesitated, a thick lump in his throat, but he knew better than to argue. He undid the shortalls and let them pool at his feet, then peeled off the T-shirt. Meredith patted the bed. “Lie down,” she instructed. Trying not to cry from humiliation, Leon sank onto the mattress, his small frame dwarfed by the plush bed. Meredith picked up the diaper, opening it with a loud crinkle. She maneuvered it under him, adjusting it carefully, then folded it up between his legs. The padding was thick, soft, and unmistakably babyish. Velcro tapes fastened at the sides. She smoothed the tapes, making sure it was snug around his waist. Leon swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. The sensation of the diaper hugging his lower half was strange and overwhelming. The thick bulk between his legs forced them apart slightly. Meredith leaned over him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. “Don’t be upset,” she cooed. “It’s just for your protection, and for my peace of mind. You might even find it comforting.” He shut his eyes, nodding wordlessly. Next, she guided his feet into the footed sleeper, pulling it up his body. Once his arms were inside, she zipped it up, locking the zipper with a small padlock near the neck. There would be no unzipping this without her key. Leon shivered, suddenly aware he was completely at her mercy. He could feel the diaper pressing against him, a constant reminder of his humiliation. Yet a small, secret part of him felt a twinge of guilty relief. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about leaking if he had to hold it too long… Meredith helped him off the bed, turning him to face the dresser mirror. “Look at that,” she said softly. “It fits you well, doesn’t it?” He caught a glimpse of himself: a short, slender young man clad in a pastel sleeper, locked, and obviously padded. It was juvenile, babyish, and undeniably humiliating. And yet, he felt a warmth coil in his chest, an odd sense of safety. Meredith leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on top of his head. “All set. Now, it’s still early, so you can stay up with me in the living room if you want to watch TV. But I don’t want you messing with that diaper. Understood?” Leon gulped. “Yes, Meredith,” he whispered. With that, she took his hand, leading him out to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. She switched on a TV show, sliding an arm around his shoulders. He rested his cheek against her side, feeling the crinkle of the diaper whenever he shifted. Her warmth enveloped him. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t deny the closeness and the comfort he felt pressed against her. They watched quietly for a while, the only sounds being occasional dialogue from the show and the subtle rustle of Leon’s diaper when he moved. Though she was being strict, Meredith also exuded a gentle tenderness. She smoothed her hand over his hair, letting him relax against her. He wondered if this was how children felt when nestled against a mother’s side—but no, that thought was too strange. He was an adult, even if everything about this arrangement suggested otherwise. After an hour or so, she clicked off the TV. “You’re probably tired. Let’s get you in bed.” Leon’s eyes fluttered. “Okay.” She led him back to the bedroom, helping him climb under the covers. The diaper’s thickness made him waddle slightly, but she made no mention of it. Once he was tucked in, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss goodnight. “Sleep well, little one,” she murmured, stroking his cheek. Leon felt a pang in his chest. Despite the embarrassment, he sensed an overpowering love for her. She had so much control, but also so much care. He closed his eyes, nodding. “Goodnight, Meredith,” he whispered. She switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The faint sound of her footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the soft rustle of his own humiliating bedtime attire. Yet despite everything, he drifted off feeling oddly comforted. Chapter Six: A Morning of Conflicting Emotions Leon awoke the next morning, squinting at the streams of daylight creeping in through the blinds. He tried to stretch, but the footed sleeper resisted his movement. The padlock at the collar was still firmly in place. Immediately, he became aware of the thick diaper around his waist. His heart pounded as he recalled last night’s humiliating bedtime routine. He shifted, feeling a slight warmth in the diaper’s padding. Dread stabbed at his chest. Had he wet himself in his sleep? He pressed his thighs together, and sure enough, the diaper felt heavier and damp. A wave of shame washed over him. He couldn’t remember when it happened. He had dozed off so deeply he never even woke up to use the bathroom. A swirl of conflicting emotions rose inside him: embarrassment, confusion, and, strangely, relief. At least the bed was dry. He heard footsteps approaching. In a moment, Meredith appeared, her tall frame filling the doorway. She smiled softly. “Good morning,” she greeted. “Sleep well?” Leon stammered, unsure how to respond. “I—I guess so.” Her gaze fell to his padded midsection. “Did you stay dry?” she asked, though the faint smirk suggested she already suspected the answer. He glanced away, cheeks aflame. “No,” he muttered. “I… had an accident.” Meredith strode over, unlocking the small padlock at his neckline with a tiny key. She slowly pulled the zipper down, revealing the sagging diaper. She pressed the padding gently, confirming it was indeed wet. Leon squirmed, face contorting with humiliation. “Well,” she said at last, “this just proves my point. You need diapers for bedtime until further notice.” Leon’s eyes stung with tears. He hated feeling so incompetent, but found himself nodding obediently. “Yes, Meredith.” “Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. She helped him out of the sleeper, rolling it aside to wash later. Then, carefully, she removed the diaper. The cool morning air brushed his skin. She took a pack of wipes from a shelf in the closet—he hadn’t noticed them before—and began gently cleaning him. He winced at the profound vulnerability of it all, but she was methodical and calm, as though caring for a dependent child. When she finished, she gave his hip a reassuring pat. “Now, go shower. I’ll find you some fresh clothes.” Leon didn’t need any more prompting. He hurried to the bathroom, stepping into the warm shower spray. As he scrubbed away the night’s shame, he let out a trembling sigh. Part of him felt humiliated beyond words, but another part felt a surprising sense of freedom in not having to worry about whether he wet the bed or not—Meredith took care of everything. Chapter Seven: Trying to Please Her After the shower, Leon found another childish outfit waiting on the bed: a bright red T-shirt with a cartoon lion on the front, and a pair of elastic-waist shorts that threatened to show the outline of any padded undergarment if he wore them. However, Meredith had not placed a diaper beside them this time. It seemed he was expected to manage on his own during the day—at least for now. He dressed quickly, then padded into the living room where Meredith was sipping coffee. She motioned for him to sit. “I’m going into the office again,” she announced. “I have some errands afterward, so I won’t be back until early evening. Think you can handle it?” Leon nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes flickered toward his shorts. “No diapers right now, but you’re still required to ask permission for the potty, remember?” A knot formed in his stomach. “B-but… you won’t be here,” he said. “How am I supposed to ask for permission?” “You’ll text me first,” Meredith said, as if it were the most obvious solution. “Wait for my response. If I approve, you can use the bathroom. Understood?” Leon swallowed hard. “Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “I mean it. If I find out you disobeyed, or if there’s any sign of accidents again, you’ll be wearing a diaper all day tomorrow as well. Clear?” A flush crept over his face. “Clear,” he replied softly. Meredith nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, I have to go. You have your instructions.” She kissed his forehead, grabbed her handbag, and left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Leon alone with his swirling thoughts once more. It was nearly 9 AM. He had to figure out how to keep himself occupied all day without leaving the apartment, and with the added stress of obtaining permission to use the bathroom via text message. He eyed the clock nervously. Typically, she gave him scheduled breaks: morning, midday, afternoon, evening. But now the dynamic was different—he had to ask every single time. Leon sighed, trying to calm the flutter in his belly. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself, rummaging around the kitchen for a small breakfast. He settled on cereal, though he couldn’t help but measure how much milk and juice he poured, terrified of needing to go too soon. Chapter Eight: Accidents, Consequences, and Confessions By lunchtime, Leon’s nerves were already shot. He’d texted Meredith around 11, asking if he could go to the bathroom. She replied after ten agonizing minutes of waiting, finally granting permission. He managed to avoid an accident that time. But around 1 PM, as he sat quietly in the living room reading a book, he felt another urge. He checked the time. Meredith had mentioned she’d be in an important meeting from 1 to 2 PM, so he hesitated. If she was in the meeting, she might not respond to texts promptly. Should he send her a message anyway and risk bothering her? Or should he hold it, hoping she’d be free soon? Eventually, he sent her a short text: “Hi, Meredith. May I please use the bathroom?” The minutes passed. No response. The minutes turned to a half-hour. Leon began to pace, sipping his water nervously, which only made things worse. By 1:40, he was practically dancing in place, pressing his thighs together. Still nothing. He sent another, more urgent text: “Please, Meredith. It’s an emergency.” At 1:50, he still hadn’t heard from her. His bladder burned, and tears pricked his eyes. He wanted desperately to follow her rule, but he was about to burst. Could he risk it? Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he used the bathroom since it was an actual emergency. But she had been so explicit. Disobeying meant guaranteed diapers the next day. Could he endure that shame again? He fidgeted, leaning against the wall, clenching every muscle he could. The world around him seemed to blur in a haze of desperation. 1:55… Leon couldn’t hold it. With a choked sob, he felt warmth flood his shorts. The liquid trickled down his legs, pooling on the floor. He froze, horrified. His cheeks burned with shame as he stood there in a puddle. He’d truly wet himself in the living room, at eighteen years old. Trembling, he grabbed paper towels, trying to mop up the evidence of his accident. He peeled off his sodden shorts and underwear, tossing them into the washing machine, desperately hoping to hide the mess before Meredith returned. But he couldn’t deny what had happened. He had broken the rule—except he hadn’t, had he? He’d tried to get permission, but she never responded. At 2:05, his phone buzzed. Meredith’s text appeared: “Yes, you can go now. Sorry for the delay.” Leon nearly burst into tears. It was too late. Chapter Nine: Love and Control Meredith arrived home around 5 PM. Leon was perched anxiously on the couch in a fresh pair of shorts, heart hammering. The moment she entered, he felt tears pricking his eyes. He needed to confess before she discovered the evidence. She set her purse down and fixed him with an expectant stare. “Well, did everything go smoothly?” Leon stood, hands shaking. “I—I tried. I texted you. Twice,” he said. “You didn’t respond until it was too late.” His voice trembled with shame. “I had an accident.” She pressed her lips together. “Where?” “In the living room,” he muttered, glancing down. “I cleaned it up right away. I’m sorry.” Meredith rubbed her temple. “Leon,” she began in a weary tone, “I gave you one simple rule. Did you try waiting or…?” He shook his head. “I did wait. I tried to hold it until you responded. But then I—I couldn’t anymore.” She sighed, stepping closer to him. He braced himself for anger, but instead, she pulled him into a loose embrace. He smelled the faint perfume in her hair. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Accidents happen when you’re forced to wait like that.” Leon buried his face against her, tears wetting her blouse. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” Meredith patted his back. “I know you tried. This arrangement might be too strict for your body to handle. Maybe I pushed you too far.” He blinked, pulling back, confused. “You… you think so?” She nodded, cupping his cheek. “Leon, I want to take care of you. I love you. But if these rules cause you distress and accidents, maybe we need to adjust them.” Leon stared up at her, feeling both relief and a pang of disappointment. As restrictive as the rules were, a part of him craved her control. “I… I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered. She kissed his forehead. “My sweet boy, you could never truly disappoint me if you’re honest with me. Let’s find a way that keeps you comfortable without accidents, all right?” He nodded, eyes stinging. “Yes, Meredith.” She smoothed down his hair. “That said, the diapers at night will continue. It’s clear you’re still having trouble staying dry. And maybe we’ll have you wear them during the day if you’re feeling uncertain. No more holding it to the point of accidents. Agreed?” A complicated mix of dread and comfort flooded him. “Agreed,” he said softly. That evening, after a light dinner and some shared relaxation time on the couch, Meredith once more led him to the bedroom. She had prepared another diaper and the familiar pastel-green sleeper, complete with the back-zip design. This time, he didn’t resist. He let her tape the diaper around his waist, welcoming the soft, bulky security. He noticed that she had sewn a small loop at the back of the sleeper’s collar, likely where she’d attach the padlock or a similar clasp. She pulled it up his body, sealing him in. Leon sighed as she locked him into the sleeper. Oddly enough, he felt relief. There would be no more frantic dashes or accidents; if it happened, at least he was protected. He laid down on the bed, exhaling the tension of the day. “Tomorrow, we can talk more about your potty schedule,” Meredith said, brushing a hand through his hair. “I still want you to ask permission, but we’ll give you a diaper if I’m away. That way, you won’t have to worry.” Leon looked up at her, a small smile ghosting his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. She returned the smile, bending low to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, little one.” Tears threatened to surface again, but they were tears of gratitude this time. “I love you too,” he choked out. Settling down under the covers, he listened to the calming sound of her breathing as she tucked him in. Despite the infantile attire, or perhaps because of it, a sense of safety blossomed in his chest. Meredith was demanding, controlling, and sometimes completely over the top—but she was also caring, nurturing, and, above all, his. Chapter Ten: Renewed Determination Despite the tension and embarrassment of Leon’s accident in Chapter Nine, the next morning dawned with a surprising sense of calm in the apartment. The living room was bathed in golden light as Leon padded out from the bedroom, diaper rustling softly beneath the pastel-green footed sleeper. He still wore the back-zip pajamas because Meredith—early to rise and already dressed in slacks and a blouse—wanted to supervise his morning routine. “Good morning,” she greeted, looking up from her laptop on the couch. “Sleep okay?” Leon nodded, cheeks flushing with the familiar bashfulness that came from being locked into his sleeper all night. “Yes,” he murmured, eyes drifting to the floor. “Thank you.” Meredith patted the cushion beside her, beckoning him to sit. The couch dipped under her weight as she scooted closer, one arm resting comfortably over his shoulders. “Let’s see how you did,” she said, reaching for the small lock at his collar. Her tone was neither cruel nor mocking—it was simply matter-of-fact, the caring severity of someone who expected to find a wet diaper. She withdrew the key from her pocket and unlocked the tab securing the zipper. The faint click sent a tremor of apprehension through Leon. Gently, she pulled the zipper down, revealing the thick, slightly damp diaper around his waist. A sigh escaped her lips—part relief, part acknowledgment. “Not too bad,” she said. “Still wet, but not soaked.” Leon rubbed his arms, noticing goosebumps from the morning chill. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically. She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize every time. We’ve talked about this. Diapers are here to help until you learn to manage. And if you can’t, well… that’s okay too. We’ll make sure you’re protected.” A swirl of conflicting emotion swept through him. He both hated and secretly welcomed the security of her strict care. Even if it made him feel smaller, something about her unwavering control comforted him. “All right,” Meredith said, gently pressing her warm palm against his upper back. “Let’s get you changed and dressed. We have errands today.” Leon exhaled a soft sigh of resignation. There was never any real choice in the matter—only the understanding that, under her guidance, he would be taken care of. She walked him to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper and a modest outfit lay waiting on the neatly made bed. This time, he noticed the diapers were in the open, lined up on a shelf—obviously a new normal. “You’ll wear this for the day,” she said, tapping the folded padding. “I have a busy schedule, and I can’t always answer your texts immediately. So, no accidents in your shorts this time.” Leon’s face burned with a mixture of shame and relief. “Yes, Meredith,” he murmured obediently. She set about changing him, wiping him down before securing the tapes snug around his hips. With practiced ease, she helped him step into a pair of casual khaki shorts and a short-sleeve polo that—thankfully—didn’t look too childish. However, as soon as he stood up, the outline of the diaper was unmistakable beneath the fabric, giving him a slight waddle. He fidgeted, unsure how to hide it. Meredith tilted his chin up with her finger. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “You’re under my protection. I won’t let anyone see more than necessary. Now, get your shoes on. We’re heading out soon.” Leon swallowed hard, nodding. A renewed determination to trust her—and to obey her strict potty rules—settled in his chest. If wearing a diaper in public was the price to avoid accidents, he would accept it. After all, he loved her. And in his own private way, he loved this nurturing dominance she provided. Chapter Eleven: An Outing of Discomfort Meredith parked the car outside a bustling shopping center, sunlight glinting off the polished vehicles in the lot. Leon sat in the passenger seat, heart thumping. He hadn’t been outside in a diaper often—usually, Meredith arranged short, discreet errands or handled them alone. Yet here they were, preparing for a full afternoon of shopping. He was diapered under his khaki shorts, his every movement producing a barely audible crinkle. Fear gnawed at him. What if someone heard? What if someone noticed the slight bulge? Meredith unfastened her seatbelt, turning toward him. “Ready?” Leon’s fingers twisted in his lap. “I—yes,” he said, voice trembling. “But—do I really have to wear this in public?” A trace of amusement danced across Meredith’s features, but she tempered it with understanding. “Yes, Leon. You know the rules. You’ve had accidents, and I can’t keep leaving you alone in the apartment every time I need to run errands. This is safer.” His cheeks burned a deep crimson. “I—I understand,” he managed. She offered a small, reassuring smile before exiting the car. Reluctantly, Leon followed, stepping onto the asphalt. The sensation of the diaper’s padding made his walk slightly bow-legged. He glanced around nervously, certain everyone would see. But the world carried on, no one giving him more than a passing glance. It was a busy weekend afternoon: couples strolling hand in hand, parents corralling rambunctious kids, elderly folks lugging grocery bags. No one seemed to notice the shy, diminutive eighteen-year-old waddling after his tall girlfriend. Meredith led him through a few stores, picking up home essentials and groceries. She maintained a calm composure, instructing him softly if she wanted help grabbing an item. Occasionally, she’d slip her arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd. Despite the unwavering sense of embarrassment, Leon felt a protective warmth emanating from her touch. Midway through their errands, as they stopped at a store to browse kitchen utensils, Leon’s eyes widened. The dull pressure in his bladder reminded him of an awkward truth: if he needed to use the bathroom, he had to ask Meredith. And given their conversation, he suspected she might make him use the diaper instead—especially in a public restroom scenario where it might be less private. Swallowing hard, he tugged lightly at her sleeve. “Meredith?” he whispered. She was examining a set of ceramic bowls but turned at his soft plea. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” “I… I have to go,” he admitted, cheeks blazing. “Number one.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Hmm. Well, we could go to the bathroom. But then I’d have to help you remove everything.” Her tone was sympathetic yet firm. “It might be easier if you just let your diaper handle it. That’s what it’s for.” Leon felt a knot twist in his stomach. Wet himself on purpose, in a public store? The thought horrified him. But she was right—unfastening and refastening a taped diaper in a public restroom stall seemed equally daunting. “Let’s finish shopping,” she said in a low voice. “If it’s urgent, use your diaper. Then I’ll change you when we get home.” Leon’s entire face felt aflame. But he couldn’t argue; she was in charge. He stayed close to her side, trying to will his bladder to remain calm. Yet within minutes, the urge intensified. Eventually, he yielded, letting go in subtle spurts, feeling warmth spread through the padding. His heart thumped—he was wetting himself in the middle of a store, next to his girlfriend. It was humiliating and strangely intimate. By the time they checked out and returned to the car, the diaper clung heavily to his skin. Meredith noticed the slight sag, her expression shifting to one of tender concern. “You okay?” she asked, voice gentle. He nodded, too humiliated to speak. As they climbed back into the car, he squirmed against the seat, the wet diaper pressing against him. Meredith placed a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezed. It was a reminder that she was proud of him for following the rules—odd though those rules might be. They drove home in silence, tension coiling in his chest. Yet beneath it all, a flutter of relief swirled: he had obeyed her. He had done what she said, and there was a strange sense of accomplishment in that submission. Maybe he was just relieved to know she’d soon change him, freeing him from the clammy discomfort. Leon stared out the window, cheeks still burning, as he braced himself for the next step: reporting his soggy diaper to Meredith like a dependent child. And, in a bittersweet twist, he realized that he no longer felt quite as anxious about it—because he trusted her. Chapter Twelve: Adjusting and Accepting When they arrived home, Meredith wasted no time ushering Leon to the bedroom. He felt her warm hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, guiding him inside. The memory of his wet diaper burned in his mind, a tangible reminder of how little control he was supposed to have. “Let’s get you changed,” she said, her voice low and calm, almost comforting. Leon perched on the edge of the bed, arms folded uncertainly. Meredith stepped into the closet, retrieving a pack of wipes and another diaper from the growing stash. The plastic packaging crinkled loudly as she pulled one out. He lifted his hips obediently, allowing her to peel down his shorts. A wave of cool air brushed his thighs, intensifying the humiliating awareness of the heavy, sagging diaper around his waist. Her expression remained calm—patient, even—like a caretaker simply doing what had to be done. “You did well,” she murmured as she undid the tapes. “I know it must have been scary.” Leon swallowed, cheeks reddening. “It was,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t like doing that in public. But… if it’s what you want—” She set the soaked diaper aside, using a gentle wipe to clean him. “It’s not about what I want,” she corrected him, though her tone hinted otherwise. “It’s about what works for us. You’re prone to accidents. I don’t want you stressed or embarrassed about sneaking off to the bathroom. A diaper solves that.” He nodded, though a twinge of confusion fluttered in his stomach. Part of him wondered if he was truly that helpless, or if her controlling nature had simply convinced him so. Yet her nurturing presence soothed away his doubts. Feeling the soft, fresh diaper taped securely around his waist brought a wave of both shame and relief. Once she finished, she handed him a pair of comfortable sweatpants. “Wear these for the rest of the day,” she said, then paused, meeting his gaze. “Leon, if you need to use the bathroom and I’m around, I’ll help you remove everything. But if you’re alone, you should use your diaper, okay? No more accidents on the floor or in your underwear.” A small nod was all he could manage. “Yes, Meredith.” Her eyes seemed to soften. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of how cooperative you’ve been.” That simple praise flooded him with an inexplicable warmth. He realized how deeply he craved her approval. Every small gesture of reassurance seemed to justify the surrender he felt, the childlike acceptance of her rules. It was disorienting, yet undeniably comforting. The rest of the evening fell into a gentle rhythm. She guided him through a few household tasks—organizing drawers, vacuuming the living room—activities that he performed in his thick, padded undergarment, constantly aware of the faint crinkle with each step. Yet by nightfall, he realized he wasn’t quite as self-conscious as before. He could move freely, even forgetting at times that a diaper was taped around his waist. And so, as bedtime approached, Meredith once again led him through the ritual: a final bathroom check under her supervision, then a fresh night diaper, followed by a whimsical footed sleeper zipped and locked at the back. She tucked him in, pressed a goodnight kiss to his forehead, and switched off the lamp. In the darkness, Leon sighed. This new sense of routine—of wearing diapers day and night—didn’t feel quite as alien as it once had. He wondered if that was a good thing, or if it simply meant he was losing pieces of his adulthood. But his mind didn’t dwell on it long. Exhaustion took him, and he drifted off, lulled by the gentle rustle of his padded underwear and the knowledge that Meredith was proud of him. Chapter Thirteen: Testing Boundaries The days rolled by in a blur of routine: breakfast together, a diaper check, dressing in youthful clothes Meredith chose, occasional errands if she needed something, and always the unwavering rule of requesting permission—or using his diaper—whenever nature called. Leon found himself settling into the pattern with surprising ease. But with familiarity came curiosity—and a streak of rebellion. One afternoon, Meredith stepped out to pick up a package from the building’s reception desk. She instructed Leon to remain in the apartment, as usual. Sinking onto the living room couch, Leon felt the snug pull of his diaper around his hips, reminding him of his constant lack of autonomy. A stray thought nudged at him. What if he tried removing the diaper himself, just to see if he could? Perhaps he’d use the toilet without waiting for her. He was an adult—eighteen, yes, and short, but perfectly capable of managing the simplest bodily functions without a caretaker’s guidance. Right? The idea bloomed into a daring impulse. Meredith wouldn’t be gone long. If he acted quickly, he could strip off the diaper, use the bathroom, and tape it back in place—she might never know, unless she checked the tapes closely. His heart pounded. Could he pull it off? With trembling hands, he stood and slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door. He stared at himself in the dresser mirror—his small frame swaddled in a childlike T-shirt and an unmistakable diaper bulge. Taking a shaky breath, he peeled down his sweatpants to reveal the tapes. He’d never removed them on his own; Meredith always did it for him. Nervous excitement thrummed in his veins. Slowly, he reached for one of the tapes, pulling it free with a soft ripping sound. He paused, listening for footsteps or voices in the hallway. Silence. Emboldened, he undid the second tape. A moment later, the diaper slid to the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in days, he felt the cool air against his bare skin. But just as he turned to head for the bathroom, he heard the distinctive jingle of keys at the front door. Panic shot through him. He scrambled, trying to lift the diaper back into place, fumbling with the tapes. His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t align them properly. “Leon?” Meredith’s voice, suddenly closer than he expected. He froze, a terrible realization sinking in: she had the keys, and the apartment door was already open. He pictured her stepping inside, noticing the bedroom door closed. Any second now, she’d be here. His eyes darted around for a place to hide. His heart hammered. The diaper was half-secured, one tape crooked, the other barely stuck to the front panel. Before he could fully fix it, the bedroom door opened. Meredith stood in the threshold, eyebrows arched. Her gaze swept over him—pants around his ankles, the diaper precariously attached, guilt shining in his eyes. He swallowed, feeling a wave of mortification so intense it made him dizzy. She took a measured step forward, an unreadable expression on her face. “Care to explain?” she asked softly, though her tone carried the weight of disappointment. Leon’s eyes stung with imminent tears. “I—I just…” His voice wavered. “I wanted to use the toilet. By myself.” Silence stretched. Then she shut the door behind her, crossing her arms. The tension in the room was palpable. “You know the rules,” she said quietly. “If you need the toilet and I’m not here, you use your diaper or wait.” He bit his lip, tears blurring his vision. “I—I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to prove I could do it on my own.” Meredith’s gaze softened slightly, though her posture remained firm. “Get on the bed,” she said, nodding toward the mattress. “Lie down.” He obeyed, shuffling awkwardly and sinking onto the comforter. She followed, kneeling beside him, methodically reattaching the diaper’s tapes. Though her movements were gentle, a current of disappointment tinged the air. “I’m not punishing you because you need help,” she explained, voice subdued. “I’m upset because you broke trust. You tried to remove the diaper behind my back instead of talking to me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just feel so… helpless sometimes.” Meredith’s expression softened further. She cupped his cheek, brushing a tear away with her thumb. “I know it can be hard. But we made an agreement. I need you to respect it.” He nodded miserably. “I will… I promise.” She helped him stand, pulling his sweatpants up over the re-secured diaper. Then, with surprising tenderness, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her tall frame. “You’ll be wearing thicker diapers for a while,” she murmured. “And I’ll check them more often. I have to be sure I can trust you.” Leon’s chest clenched. The idea of bigger, more conspicuous padding made his stomach sink. Yet he deserved it, he supposed, for breaking the rules. “I understand,” he said hoarsely, arms sliding around her waist. She held him quietly for a moment, letting the tension ebb. He felt her lips graze his temple, a soft, reassuring gesture. The conflict between frustration and comfort roiled inside him. Part of him wanted more independence; part of him felt relief that she refused to let him fend for himself. Without further discussion, she led him back to the living room, returning to their daily routine. But now a new tension lingered—an unspoken reminder that she was always in control, and that if he tried to break free, the rules would only tighten. And for reasons that baffled him, a small, conflicted part of Leon found a flicker of solace in that unwavering authority. Chapter Fourteen: Closer Under Stricter Rules The weeks following Leon’s failed act of independence were marked by intensified control. Meredith insisted on thicker diapers, even during short outings. His schedule became more rigid. Now, each morning after breakfast, she’d conduct a “diaper check” to ensure he was properly padded and that he hadn’t tampered with the tapes. Whenever she left him alone, she’d set timeframes for when he could text or call. Sometimes she’d even leave the bedroom door open so she could keep an eye on him from other parts of the apartment. At first, Leon felt smothered—his guilt over lying to her was matched only by the frustration of feeling like a child. Yet something unexpected blossomed in the midst of these stricter measures: an undeniable closeness. Each small act of nurturing drew them nearer in an odd, secret way. When Meredith changed him out of a soggy diaper with gentle reassurance, he felt loved. When she praised him for complying with his schedule, he felt proud. Their bond, once overshadowed by fear and embarrassment, grew into a new kind of intimacy. It happened late one evening, as she was zipping him into a fresh footed sleeper. He lay on the bed, arms folded, face flushed, while she carefully aligned the zipper. Once it was done, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips—a kiss that, for the first time, felt more than protective. There was a hint of passion, an adult warmth. Leon’s heart fluttered. She pulled away slowly. “I love taking care of you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky in the dim bedroom light. “Even if you test my patience sometimes.” Leon swallowed, eyes shining. “I love you,” he breathed, the admission trembling with vulnerability. “I—I really do.” She brushed a hand over his cheek, hooking a finger around the sleeper’s collar to ensure it was snug. “I know,” she replied, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “That’s why this works—because we trust each other, don’t we?” He nodded. “I’m sorry about before… trying to remove the diaper on my own. I won’t do it again.” Meredith’s smile softened. “I believe you,” she said, then locked the tiny clasp at the nape of his neck. The soft clink of metal felt final. “Now, get some rest.” With that, she flicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp. He burrowed under the covers while she settled beside him for a moment, stroking his hair as though soothing a restless child. The gentle caress lulled him into a half-doze, each breath in tandem with the quiet hiss of air conditioning. He felt a surge of affection so strong it was almost painful. Yes, her rules could be stifling. Yes, he sometimes hated feeling dependent. But she was also his haven—his protector, who willingly took on this responsibility to keep him safe and stress-free. In that sense, the diapers, the childish clothes, and the locked sleepers were all expressions of her unwavering commitment. Eventually, she stood to leave, switching off the lamp entirely. “Goodnight, little one,” she whispered, her voice floating through the darkness. Leon closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow with a soft rustle of crinkling plastic. “Goodnight,” he managed, comforted by her presence even as she slipped away. And as he drifted into sleep, he wondered if this deepening closeness was worth the cost of his dwindling autonomy. Chapter Fifteen: The Unshakable Bond Morning light found Leon stirring early, roused by a nagging pressure in his bladder. He blinked sleep from his eyes, momentarily forgetting the confines of his locked footed sleeper. As he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, the thick padding between them reminded him precisely of his predicament. For a fleeting second, panic seized him—he needed to go, and there was no easy way out. But then memory returned in a warm rush: Meredith. She would help him. He just had to call out. “Meredith?” he croaked softly, clearing his throat. “Meredith!” A moment later, the bedroom door opened, revealing her tall silhouette, hair in a loose ponytail. She flicked on the lamp, letting a soft glow illuminate her concerned face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Leon swallowed, cheeks warming. “I—uh, need the bathroom. Please.” Her gaze flickered to the locked collar of his sleeper, then down to his diaper. “Let’s see…” she murmured. She retrieved the key from the dresser and came closer. “We’ll get you out. Hold on.” He exhaled shakily as she unlocked the small metal clasp, unzipped him, and peeled open the footed pajamas. The crisp air prickled his skin. Within seconds, he was free—except for the diaper taped tightly around him. “Stand up,” she directed, guiding him gently. He pressed his thighs together, bladder now pleading for release. She plucked at the diaper’s tapes, revealing his bare hips. “All set,” she announced. Without waiting another second, Leon darted to the bathroom. This time, there was no condescending observation or requirement to text for permission—she was right there, consenting to let him go. Relief washed over him, both physically and emotionally. When he finished, Meredith stood by the sink, watching calmly. Wordlessly, she handed him a fresh diaper, indicating he should rejoin her in the bedroom. Leon obeyed, though he felt a flicker of pride. She was letting him do part of it himself—at least carrying the diaper. Back in the bedroom, he lay on the bed, anticipating her usual routine of taping him up. But she surprised him by placing the diaper in his hands. “Try,” she said softly. His eyes widened. “You… you want me to do it?” She nodded, an encouraging smile on her lips. “Yes. Go on, show me.” Nervous but determined, Leon unfolded the diaper. He positioned it under himself, fumbling with the tapes. Twice, the adhesive caught on the wrong spot, creating crooked wings. Meredith watched patiently, offering occasional suggestions: “Bring it up a bit higher in front,” or “Tighten the left tape.” After some clumsy effort, he managed a passable fit. It felt snug—but not quite as neat as when she did it. Still, a wave of satisfaction rippled through him. The partial freedom of dressing himself was exhilarating, even if the result was still a diaper. Meredith patted the front. “Good job,” she praised. “Now, it’s not perfect, but it’ll hold for a while.” He beamed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The subtle acknowledgment that he could do something as basic as tape on his own diaper, under her supervision, felt like an important step. It was a small slice of autonomy within the realm of her control. “We’ll see how you manage,” she continued, smoothing down his hair. “If you do well, maybe I’ll let you take more responsibility for your changes—under my guidance, of course.” Leon nodded, heart fluttering. “Thank you,” he whispered earnestly. In that moment, a new understanding passed between them. Their bond was unshakable now, grounded not just in her dominance but in a shared willingness to adapt. She’d grown stricter after he broke her trust, but she also recognized his desire for a smidge of independence. They didn’t need to be locked in an endless cycle of parent and child. They were lovers, partners—albeit in a very unconventional arrangement. And so, as Meredith helped him into a pair of soft lounge pants, the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smile. “Let’s go have breakfast,” she said, lacing her fingers through his and giving him a tender squeeze. Leon squeezed back, feeling the padded bulk beneath his pants but no longer drowning in shame. Yes, it was still embarrassing, and he still had rules and limitations, but he was beginning to realize that, at the core of it all, they truly cared for each other. Their relationship wasn’t defined by his size or her control, but by the intimacy and trust they cultivated day by day. He followed her out to the kitchen, diaper rustling in time with his step. Love blossomed in his chest, soft and certain. They were forging a balance—one where she guided him with structure, and he offered devotion and openness in return. For the first time since this odd journey began, Leon felt confident that despite the diapers, the childish clothes, and the potty rules, he and Meredith were heading toward something healthy and lasting: a bond that neither of them ever wanted to break. Epilogue A few months later, their small apartment felt more like a sanctuary than ever. The bedroom closet now housed a full set of neatly stacked diapers and childish outfits. A special drawer even contained footed sleepers with various colors and prints. Leon sometimes giggled at just how large their “babyish” collection had grown—and how routine it had become to wear them. But if anyone asked how they lived, they would never fully understand the tapestry of love and control woven into their day-to-day. Leon was still small for his age, and Meredith still stood a majestic six foot one—always a striking figure next to him. Yet their dynamic had evolved into a fluid dance between caretaker and lover, discipline and compassion. Most mornings, Leon took pride in taping on his own diaper under Meredith’s watchful eye, a sign of trust regained after his earlier missteps. He appreciated that small allowance of autonomy, even if the end result—padded underwear—remained the same. They had found a middle ground: Leon could participate in the process while still relying on Meredith’s guidance and final approval. Their schedules remained structured: breakfast together, chores or errands, and occasional nights out when Meredith felt he could handle a discrete pull-up beneath carefully chosen clothes. She insisted on the same strict potty rules—permission required, or else using his diaper. Yet she was more flexible in granting him access to the toilet if he asked politely and the timing worked. She even allowed him the small triumph of undressing himself sometimes, though major clothing changes—especially diaper changes—were still primarily her domain. And Leon discovered that, in this near-constant state of managed dependency, he found security. The embarrassment never fully disappeared—he still blushed whenever she patted his diaper to check for wetness in front of a mirror, or when she zipped him into a footed sleeper hours before bedtime. But he’d come to enjoy the closeness, the protective embrace of her authority. Their love life thrived, too, in its own secret way. While the story behind their padded routines and potty rules was not something they shared with others, it forged a profound trust between them. She cradled him with a mix of parental warmth and adult desire, bridging the gap between caretaker and partner. He, in turn, found joy in pleasing her—accepting her rules, even appreciating them, for what they gave him in return. On a crisp, clear morning, they stood together in the living room, the sun casting bright rectangles across the floor. Meredith had just finished checking his diaper—still dry—and was reminding him of his chores for the day. Leon stared up at her, feeling every inch the smaller man, yet entirely content. “Remember,” she was saying in that measured tone, “if you need the potty, you call me or text me. If I don’t answer, you use the diaper. No accidents on the floor.” “Yes, Meredith,” Leon responded readily. Then, unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek against her torso. “Thank you,” he whispered, though he wasn’t quite sure for what—perhaps for everything. She laughed softly, brushing a hand over his hair. “You’re welcome, little one. Now off you go.” And so their life continued—a carefully balanced blend of loving dominance and welcomed submission, of soft crinkles and locked sleepers, of structure and devotion. In the end, their bond had become unbreakable: the tall, commanding woman and her tiny, adoring boyfriend, joined in a private world of mutual care and trust. Though it defied outside understanding, for them, it was perfect. And in the comfort of that shared knowledge, they closed the door to the rest of the world, content to exist precisely as they were—together.

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to a break with social normities. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Chastity and forced crossdressing Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults Punishments (often unfair, degrading, and/or humiliating) Experimentation on humans Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of expletives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Political themes associated with revolutions or desires of change or freedoms Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific acts to anything overtly sexual; however, some fetishes maybe touched on in this story more than my previous ones. Still, as usual, this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list here is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be warranted later if needed (though may not be added). If I deem any chapters to be too ‘triggering,’ I will issue another separate warning beforehand. Hey everyone! Welcome back to my little story corner on here. As I noted last time, this story is all about a maturity reform center for boys in a sort of alternative future from our own. Everything basically gets explained in the first chapter, so don’t worry there if you might be confused at all about this notion. It’s pretty easy, but for those of you wondering, I’m not going to lie… the phrase ‘girls rule, boys drool,’ is pretty apt for this story. Keep that in mind with this society’s mindset and a lot of things here will make more sense at least. Fair or logical from our own viewpoints may not always be accurate. Moving on, I do have to give credit where credit is due though. I saw this idea from a post that has been long deleted from ‘nomorepantsforme.’ I’m not even entirely sure it was their original idea either, but I want to give the acknowledgement where I can at least, since I really just couldn’t pass up the framework that I saw that day. I would gladly link the website where I originally saw these images posted, but it was a Tumblr account, and well… I’m pretty sure you all know what happened to it at this point. Still, I’ve expanded the story a lot since those initial postings, and everything pretty much takes on a life of its own after chapter three basically. Considering there are at least 36 chapters right now and this story takes place across a period of over three years during the plot, I would say buckle up, but I guess in the case for most of you, maybe get someone else who you trust to do that for you. All joking aside though, this story will take a bit of time to completely finish and put out on here. I definitely don’t have as much time as I used to, and that’s unfortunate, but I will work on this story as much as I can. I’ve already completed several sections, and I’ve got the plot all mostly ironed out by now, so that should make things easier, but I would just ask for your patience at this point. I can’t stick to a schedule, so I would just suggest staying vigilant for further updates. Looking ahead though, I will post another poll with the next chapter for the story you wish for me to write next. While some of you expressed a desire to move on away from the Strawpoll website where I posted the last poll, I think it was just too successful to stop it completely. I am still curious though about everyone’s continued thoughts, so I have left this poll up (which can be found at https://strawpoll.com/05ZdzWkrbn6). All that being said, if any of you wish to privately message me or post directly on here regarding your desires about polling or even my next story, I would count and read those responses/comments as well. Still, improvements to this system can always be made and I’m pretty open minded, so if any of you have a suggestion for polling in a different way for future stories, I’m very open to any ideas. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this next story of mine! Chapter 1: Departure Day I clicked the recording the device, cleared my voice, and spoke up. “I’m an average guy in an average city who once lived an average life. I obeyed the law, never stood out from the crowd, and minded my own business as much as I could. I followed the rules and stayed out of trouble. For all intents and purposes, I never expected myself to be at the center of a sweeping change and then be asked to talk about it.” I paused and stopped the recording. Shuffling in my seat, a slight crinkle could be heard, but that was just everyday life for me now. I strained and looked back at Laura. “Is that okay? Do you think that’s what they want?” She smiled and nodded. “Of course. The people interested in how this whole thing went down just want to have a record of what happened. Lots of changes and all and your experiences should be recorded for future posterity. With everything that happened, someone is bound to ask questions about it all one day. So, my suggestion… there is no right and wrong. Just say what you think, sweetie.” I smiled back at her, her help through all this a constant in my life still, sighed, and then turned back to the recording device. I knew someone else would already be condensing my thoughts down later. Especially considering what had happened to me, Laura had suggested the recording device rather than me writing everything down. Writing everything down like that was just a bit too hard timing-wise these days… plus how I got here in the first place wasn’t helping matter either. I was already getting hungry for my midday snack... Still, I had to press on while everything was still fresh in my head. So, taking Laura’s advice, I pushed the recording button once more. I sighed again and leaned back into my chair. “Well, I could start earlier and explain a bit, but I suppose ‘Departure Day’ was where everything truly changed for me…” * * * The day is here at last and now there’s no more waiting. I’m 18, graduated from high school, and now it’s late August. Before everything changed a few years back, for someone like me, that meant a job, travelling the world, or college. It was a mark of maturity for everyone in this country or at least a sign that one’s life was moving forward. Now, however, being a guy, this time of year in my life can only mean one thing for me. I’m headed to a center, or what the government calls a ‘Juvenile Evaluation Center for All Males,’ located somewhere within 100 miles of me right now. Each had a different name and even reputation, but my fate to at least one of them was already sealed. And here I was all this time in my life over the past year, thinking that stupid law would be repealed by the time I reached 18 and then hit the beginning of the term in late August of the same year. I think every guy my age hoped the same thing… I mean, forcibly take a bunch of 18-year-old males and test their maturity as a barrier to enter society as an adult, or if they fail… then something else. A law like that in the ‘land of the free’ just had to be repealed. ‘Right?’ Wrong. Apparently fifteen years of a law enacted was just the right amount of time where most were still happy about the perceived benefits of the law, and any who weren’t, could still be told to ‘just give the law some more time to sink in’ and hope that later, it would become more normalized. Anyone told that last part wasn’t holding their breath… including me, especially now on ‘Departure Day.’ See, before fifteen years ago, no one had ever been to one of these centers, but now, every year after a male turned 18, they got sent off to a center and evaluated for their maturity the following August, whether they wanted to or not. Refusal meant an outright failure, so rebels against the law had almost altogether disappeared in the past 15 years. It was a harsh punishment and sentence for even those of us who went willingly, but everyone knew that if the given male candidate could pass, they would leave the center with a wealth of new information, a career path to a near guaranteed success, and a continuance of education or an already lined-up job fitting with the passion or vocation that they had chosen at the center. It was a mighty reward that ensured society’s continued success, here and even all around the world in most countries now, but for the less optimistic, rowdy, or fortunate bunch regarding their fate, they always knew about option B. Like an axe waiting to strike above our necks, option B always lingered there. A sudden breeze jostled through the open window in my family’s modest house located out in the suburbs. My parents, Henry and Emma, had married a year after college and found two successful jobs: a structural engineer for my mom and a landscape designer for my dad. They raised three kids as normally as possible, and we all lived perfectly normally until four years ago; a picture in the hallway still marked that day, which is where I now found myself lost in thoughts. “Are you tired and need a break from your regressed little one…” I quickly blocked out the noise coming from the family room where my dad was watching the last few minutes of the football game, now interrupted by an all-too-familiar commercial of the past 15 years, highlighting just how common the practice was now. I still found it weird that they hadn’t changed it since the law was first enacted, but by now, it was really more of a PSA than a strict commercial to convince people to comply with the law. Still, despite society’s more or less compliance these days and that the law might have even been seen as a common practice these days, it was an almost unmentionable topic in most households that had one son under 18… including this one. After all, the potential regression of a member of the family could be touchy for everyone involved. So, my family never talked about it… well, except for that one time… * * * My older brother, Ben, had gone to the center himself on his ‘Departure Day’ over two years ago. Like before, he had come back from the center to celebrate Thanksgiving with us, but unlike his usual upbeat and positive self, this time, we could all tell he was worried about something. Mom had been pestering him the whole time about his experience at the center, but he had remained continuously tight-lipped about it in front of anyone who dared ask. His face would darken for a moment, he would snap at us, and we would all move on. Two minutes later, it was like it had never happened. Still, I was just starting out in high school and a morbid curiosity burned within me to know more. Seeing the PSAs and the like about what was potentially going on there, I didn’t want to ask too many questions myself out loud. I was going in four years whether I liked it or not and knew I would find out then. Despite the questions buzzing around in my head, I didn’t need Ben to add to them to my steadily growing fears. Right after we gave our usual beginning thanks, we were just passing around the turkey and mashed potatoes, when he asked the question that we had all been dreading since he had first left. “Are you all actually okay with this whole regression law?” Mom’s face went white. Katie, our younger sister, forcibly busied herself with her cranberries, and Dad seemed sad all of a sudden. Again, fearing my own fate, I made sure I took a quick bite of stuffing to keep from saying my own feelings on the subject while also keeping an open ear to maybe slake one of the questions in my head. Regardless of the palpable tension though, no one spoke, so, the room remained quiet for an uncomfortably long period. Already starting to form a bit of an attitude towards these things though, Katie finally spoke up. “I think it can be sad but maybe also a good thing?” I wanted to break every one of her Barbies right then. She was a good kid, annoying, but kind in her own younger sister kind of way. ‘But this?’ She was a girl, which meant she could go and do what she wanted whenever she wanted to do it. The world was her oyster, but for me and Ben… it was a different matter altogether. “I agree with you sweetie,” my mom then interjected. “If it’s done right, and everyone’s happy, in the end, does it matter how?” My heart formed a tiny pencil-width crack. She had always supported Ben, Katie, and I in whatever we did, but now… I wasn’t so sure if she was on our side anymore. If this stupid law went the wrong way for either Ben or I, she would essentially be losing the sons that she and Dad had raised. If the worst happened, anything that had happened before would have just felt more like window dressing… ready to be removed and forgotten about forever when the time came to revert back to how we once were. Hayden down the street was a year ahead of Ben and seeing him as I went to school this year… my fears had started that night. “Darn right it matters!” My dad obviously had an opinion about the whole thing, and I felt a little justice on Ben and I’s side for once tonight in this whole matter, but the room quickly filled with a mounting argument on either side as well. “In my day, you grew one way, and that was toward the sky and then down to the grave. Not this grow up, grow down, then grow sideways business.” No one dared argue with him when he got like this. He was the best dad, but his stubbornness in certain matters was legendary. Finally, though, Ben broke the silence that had persisted since Dad had shouted out his opinion. “Good to know, Dad. Hard to argue with that logic I guess.” Ever the peace maker, I could tell that Ben just wanted the conversation to move on. Still, he then shifted his gaze toward me, “What about you little bro? You seem awfully quiet over there.” Everyone’s gaze suddenly fixated on me, and I shrunk back instinctively. I hated being the certain of attention, but I knew that the sooner I answered, the sooner all this could just be over with. “I… I guess I just don’t know,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “I guess if you’re happy with it, being in it yourself, then that’s what matters now. Honestly though… I just try not to think about it. Why worry about something that’s far off in the future for me, right?” I was lying through my teeth, but I didn’t want to admit to my family that I was outright terrified of the day I would leave for the center as well. I think Ben could tell I had just lied, but he didn’t push the matter any further. So, the conversation ended quickly after that, and it took a dirty joke from my sister and scolding from my mother for the family to begin to crack a smile again that night. * * * It wasn’t even the longest of conversations in the family, but that short period of time had lingered in my mind ever since then. It popped into my head every once in a while, but since I had graduated a few months ago, I could barely think of anything else. Even while we were all at the beach last month, it was hard to pull my eyes away from all the guys who had obviously gone through option B. Waddling around and looking no better than… ‘I just can’t say it…’ But I could see them clearly and I dreaded to think that one day, I could be just like them. ‘Shit! Stupid option B. Friggin’ crappy law!’ I tried to distract myself from thinking about that day at the beach again, but in this house, my averted gaze proved useless. Unfortunately, one only needed to view our neighbor playing in the front yard across the street to know just how bad things could get if one failed the program. Fortunately, though, after his three years at the center, my brother had apparently managed to avoid every outcome of option B, left the center, and then had never looked back or even talked about his time there. My mom had asked once for more details once he had graduated fully, but based on his own dirty look, she knew well enough to never ask again. Still, he had graduated. Determined to make the most of his life, since he had graduated from the center, he had taken his training at the center in stride and then took the remaining required courses at college and became a chemical engineer at a major company in the city. He didn’t live with us anymore but would still visit occasionally; like birthdays, holidays, and the occasional pre-planned stop and say ‘hi’, eat dinner with us, quickly catch up on everything, and then leave once more type of visit. My thoughts of my older brother’s success were soon interrupted by a loud screech outside. Knowing that sound anywhere by now, I quickly rushed to the front window. Of course, for Ben, he would also come on specialty days…like today, now commonly known as ‘Departure Day.’ As I quickly looked out into the street where I saw he had stopped and parked his used 2028 blue glow metallic Chevy Trailblazer, I could see him exit his pride and joy once more. Our parents bought that car for him in high school, I think honestly as a way for him to help with errands more than his own amusement at the time, but back then I honestly cared more about riding in the front seat at that point than the logistics of why. Further, I had even saved it and maintained it with Dad for him when he left the center. It was a symbol of hope of better days and its arrival her couldn’t have come sooner. Despite my feelings toward the car, our parents had been worried during those three years that he was away at the center, especially where they had noticed… changes, but through it all, that car stood as a testament to his success and our hope of him passing. So, him coming back, it was a wonderful feeling when he finally pocketed the keys after so long and then took off for college with a noted swell of happiness all around him. Since then, our family had always joked and been curious if he cared more about leaving that place or just seeing his old car again. Still, my thoughts quickly shifted back to Ben today as he trudged through the lawn and wore his usual khakis and button-down shirt, a lanyard now hanging and bobbing off his neck and body with each step from his job in the city. His normally neutral, or at least reassuring face, stood grim and lost in thought. It was an unusual look for him after the center and the subsequent posting to his new job, but I quickly recognized it as his typical reaction to anything to do with the center. Intrigue had run rampant through my mind before with what had happened to him there, but now, being less than an hour from my own ‘Departure Day,’ that look on his face only twisted up my stomach in fear as I opened the door to greet him. Upon seeing me at the door, however, his expression soon changed to the softer and more welcoming expression I had come to know since he had graduated. For today, though I still questioned his previous look, his usual demeanor was a comfort to me in a way I could never fully explain, but gladly accepted, nonetheless. “Hey there bro! You waiting for your older brother to give you one last nuggie for the road?” Not having time to mount an objection from me, he lunged, bolted past the door, and quickly grabbed me, and proceeded to ruffle and give me his usual annoying but loving nuggie to my hair; a tradition of ours since I had at least tried to start competing with him after I entered middle school. “Ah, quit it, you big loaf!” I growled, trying to swat his large hands off me and away from my head. He stood at a decent and even six feet tall, while I had inherited my mother’s side genes and stood just shy of only five foot eight inches without much chance by now of stretching any higher. “What’s the magic word?” he lovingly but mockingly asked. “Please,” I gasped. With his usual chuckle, he let me go and semi-twirled me to face back at him. Sputtering for a second, I tried to motor my way through our greeting to think about anything else other than the center. “It’s good to see you, bro. How’ve you been? It’s been a few weeks now since we last talked. Work? Date? Is she hot? Does she have a younger sister or some younger friends who don’t mind vertically challenged company? Spill. Come on, don’t leave me hanging!” Ben quickly took on a defensive posture. “Woah, woah, woah there. Slow down.” We both grinned at each other. “It’s nothing really. Honestly, it’s just work for me, buddy. I’ve been working on a project for a new government contract, and it’s been taking all my time up lately.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in toward me, “I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, but if this thing works, dirty fuel emissions will be knocked down another 30% in a few years’ time and run at least 80% more efficiently without being more dangerous or resource dependent.” “Woah,” I whispered back, reciprocating his lean in. “That’s really cool. Did you find some alien tech or something?” Ben gave me his usual crooked smile whenever I made one of my cornier jokes. My brand of humor annoyed him when we were younger, but ever since the institute, he seemed to not mind as much anymore. “Nah, we just took some of the existing fuel, ran it through a mesh fiber we just developed…” Ben continued on like that for a bit. Science was always his strong suit, even before the center, high school, or even middle school for that matter. He was the kid who asked for a microscope for Christmas and then proceeded to actually use it, rather than just collect dust in a closet somewhere like mine had done when I was ten. Still, despite my lack of scientific talent, I was proud of him for what he was doing, and further on a day like today, it gave me a bit of hope I would be just as successful in my own way after the center, rather than be doomed for option B. “…and that’s it. Nothing else to it,” he finally finished. “Right… simple,” I mocked. “Let me just call Curie or Einstein to translate for me, and we’ll call it simple then.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Haha. Well, maybe you’re right for just this once about what I’m doing lately.” His eyes shifted and his crooked smile returned. “Who knows? Maybe little green men did lend me a bit of a hand this go around.” We both got a good chuckle out of that. It reminded me of how much I missed having my brother around, and maybe it was the prospect of me leaving for three years with few visits to my family in between, but I was feeling his absence more lately. His subsequent return today had elevated that feeling even more. See, I tended to close up around new people unfortunately, but I compensated for it later by usually being far more outgoing with people once I got to know them. It wasn’t always easy, but I never really had to try too hard with Ben. I had always known my brother, and despite a few arguments now and then, I knew I could always count on him and that had been a safety net for me for years now, even when he was at the center. Unfortunately, the back of my mind rationalized that after today, I was about to go to a place where few of those longer-term relationships could even be possible. I knew, especially without seeing my brother very often, I would have to try even harder with anyone I met at the center. “Earth to John. Earth to John. Calling John Clark,” my brother echoed, trying to get my attention and even going so far as to snap his fingers in front of my face. I quickly saw his snapping hand wave in front of my face, and I quickly exited my previous thoughts. I hadn’t realized I had been drifting away so badly. “Huh? Oh… yeah… crud, you say something?” Ben rolled his eyes again. “Nothing really.” He sighed. “I was just seeing if I had lost my brother in some kind of trance or whatnot. I mean, you were really in the zone there for a minute. Where’d you go? Everything okay?” “It’s…it’s nothing,” I shuffled my feet and averted his gaze. My lying game was not on point, and I knew Ben could see right through me… he always did. Still, I didn’t want him to know I was terrified about what was about to happen to me. Luck was never one of my strong suits, and in a place like the center… from what I could find out, I knew you needed a hefty chunk of luck in your back pocket to get through it. “Right… and Dad’s not going to burn anything he puts in the oven this year.” His sarcasm practically screamed at me. We both knew full-well that our dad was infamous for burning anything and everything he ever put in the oven at least. He was a master griller, but at one point, the fire department knew us by our first names growing up when mom ever went on one of her business trips. Despite some of those dinners being ruined, I looked back at that time and by now it was almost comforting to know some things would never change. At the same time though, with his sarcasm, I knew that I had been caught in my lie. “Come on, John. It’s me here. What’s up?” Ben asked, now placing a hand on my shoulder. Again, I didn’t want to show my fear, but I knew that of everyone in this house, Ben might be the only one who actually got what I was feeling and going through today. “It’s… it’s the center.” Ben’s hand dropped from my shoulder and his face clouded over again at the mention of that place, adding further knots to my already twisted stomach. I didn’t want to tell him, knowing that would have been his reaction, but I also knew my time was running out. I almost tried to take it back, but Ben sighed and then took a big breath. “Look, about that place... There’s something you should know...” I leaned in closer. “The heads of the departments, the guy in charge, anyone who can move some minds there… they’re important.” It was an odd way to put that, but I leaned in, wanting to know more. If I could have an advantage going in, I knew I needed to exploit it as soon as possible. “Why? What do you mean, and why them?” “That place is…complicated.” His eyes briefly looked like they were miles away and I wondered what he was thinking back on. “I don’t know which center you’re going to exactly with all the new ones they’ve been building around here lately, but they’re all about the same, at least with their end goals. To get out of there, all you need to do is…” “Eeeeeeee! He’s here! He’s here!” a voice shouted from above us. I didn’t need to see a face to know where that sound came from; I had lived with it for the past 15 years and two weeks. It was my baby sister, Katie, and she still was at least excited to see Ben when he came over. To be honest though, while Katie and I were closer when we were younger, we had both drifted apart during the past few years. I think she was still too immature for me, and I was probably too overbearing for her, but she was still family… which made some of her new views even harder to cope with though. Digging deeper, I knew part of the tension between us had come from her being a girl and me being a boy. That argument probably sounded stupid and even immature, but like I had thought on Thanksgiving, it meant a great bit of difference in the modern age. Those not strictly identifying with one gender or another were given tests in the years leading up to their own ‘Departure Day.’ A few guys even tried to ‘fake’ identifying as girls initially, but after they were caught, they were sent straight to the center and were ‘deemed perfect for one of the punishments there,’ or at least that’s what made the papers from a statement the judge had made at the end of their trial. No one but the accused and their families knew what that meant exactly, but the government had assured everyone that ‘they had gotten what they deserved.’ Regardless though, gender mattered in this new world of ours. “I can’t believe he actually made it!” She sounded so triumphant, and I briefly wondered if she was looking forward to essentially being an only child in this house for the next few years. Being the youngest, she didn’t have it the easiest growing up with two older brothers, but her life was infinitely easier than Ben’s had been and mine was about to be, so I never felt guilty when Mom or Dad took Ben or I’s side when we were growing up. “You think you would have learned some timeliness when you were at the center, huh?” I could hear Ben’s clenched fist crack a bit, but I could also see he was desperately trying to not make a scene with her on my big day. Still, her comment struck me hard as why this whole mess had started in the first place. Simply put, males had been deemed too much of a problem for society as a whole, call it genetics or hunting instincts or whatever, but the government decided that it was best for the new generations to be put through a test of sorts. If they passed, they would be ahead of where they might have otherwise been, but if they failed, society could deal with them accordingly and ‘neutralize the threat.’ Or that’s at least that’s how they justified the law initially. It was a close vote, but the law had passed. Women, like my sister or my childhood crush and neighbor, Laura, could do anything they wanted after they graduated high school. Most ended up in prominent positions and few ever thought of repealing the laws once they were in power. For the men who eventually passed, they had the same opportunities, but oddly, they never seemed to want to repeal the law either. I always wondered why, but being my ‘Departure Day’ already, I knew I couldn’t fight what was coming. “Oh, hush Katie! He’s here and that’s the important thing.” My mom shuffled from the back of the house where she had been preparing cookies for my sister’s bake sale tomorrow and looked at us with a wide smile, as if she was relieved to know we were both still here. I glared at the mixing bowl in her arms, as I felt my sister should have been making her own cookies for the sale, but not wanting another argument with her about her apparent immaturity again, I had simply removed myself from the equation. Instead, I had tried to take the day to try and calm myself down, but with everything ahead of me and all my questions still, it hadn’t worked. “Henry! Henry!” my mom then called out to the backyard where my dad had been the sky, I knew it was likely just had to do with the rain coming later this afternoon. Another person might have gotten upset that the patriarch of the family would grumble about seeing his wife or his children, but it was just on brand for him. He loved us all in his own way, but as he had told us countless times before, rain and gardening were only good together if one didn’t have to weed in a downpour. As if thinking the same thing, Ben and I just scoffed under our breath over his delay in seeing us both, Ben for just arriving, me for leaving soon. Our mom turned back to us. She might have made an excuse if we were other company, but she just rolled her eyes and ran to hug Ben quickly. It was a nice little moment and not even my sister’s entrance and continued distance from both Ben and I, and then our dad’s grumbled annoyance could hurt that. We were all together today, and as my mom pointed out, it might not be like this for a while. I knew I was the reason for that, and my stomach ached a bit in fear over what was coming for me. “How about we take a picture?” Mom suggested. We had done the same thing with Ben, and as if to confirm her reasoning, she pointed to a nearby picture that we had taken on the day that he had left as well. It might have been a bit of a morbid tradition, but most families took one last photo nowadays… just in case. One only had to look outside at our neighbors across the street, the Killian’s, to understand just how much things could change from one’s ‘Departure Day’ to the end of it all. “Alright everyone,” Dad said after setting up the camera on top of the tripod. He liked things old school sometimes, and his 2019 camera was a perfect example of that. Mom always suggested the digital camera on her phone instead, since it was much faster, but he always insisted for moments like these that an ‘actual camera’ was better. “I’ve got a five second delay and… Ben.” Mom and I shot our looks to my older brother. He was playing around with Katie’s hair, clearly trying to get a rise out of her. “You stop that right now,” Mom scolded to him. “You know better than anyone that we don’t have much time today.” Ben’s hand snapped back to his side, and his head drooped down slightly. “Right. Sorry…” Again, I could see that same look of repressed pain on his face. ‘I’d give anything to know his thoughts right now…’ Still, our dad just grumbled a bit and then clicked the photo before running over to the other side of our mom. “Alright. Chins up and smile this time everyone!” Not wanting to waste any more time, we all behaved perfectly and made sure one shot was all it took. Running back, our dad gave a thumbs up and the family dispersed for a moment. Looking at the time myself, I knew the bus would be here soon for my ‘Departure Day.’ I saw it pass by every year, but I knew that today was my turn. So, wanting to make sure everything was packed, I went back up to my room. Not ten minutes later, I heard a knock at my door. “Come in.” I was hoping it was Ben so that maybe I could ask him some more questions like I was going to before our sister interrupted and alerted everyone that he was here, but it was only my mom. “Everything packed already?” she asked, her worried expression coming through clearly. She had already gone through this before and she probably knew the statistics weren’t on my side. It was estimated that at least one of every three guys that went into the program failed it. My brother had passed, and while I could still be the one that made it, my odds weren’t as good now. Zipping my single suitcase, I nodded. “Yeah… I just wanted to check I had everything that was on the list again.” I gestured to my bed where a single white paper was, listing the school supplies and what I should bring or not bring. It was just one of the questions I had for Ben… I wondered why things like clothing had to be kept at home. “Doesn’t seem like much, huh?” My mom had helped me a bit with the list, but I had insisted on maintaining some independence with it and purchased most of the things myself. I could tell that her seeing my packed bag now was already starting to get to her. “Yeah… but it’s not forever, right?” I wanted to stay hopeful for her, even if I wasn’t myself, but my mom’s expression still remained fearful and full of worry. “Right… right. It’s not forever…” She and Ben had gotten closer during his time at the center, and for the first time, I wondered if she actually knew more about his time there than the rest of us. I wanted to ask today again, but when I first did on the day I got my acceptance letter, she had quickly shut me down, calling their moments ‘private.’ She didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night, so not wanting to repeat that, I remained silent. “Well, let me help you bring your bag downstairs at least,” she offered. Seeing it as allowing her to be part of this day in her own way, I let her do that much at least. Downstairs, Ben and Dad were already waiting by the front door and were debating about postage and a forwarding address. “No, he’s going to be the one near Dawsonville,” Dad argued. “No way. I was sent there and that was already a few years ago. There’s no way he would be sent to that one.” Ben seemed supremely confident in his answer, but I knew that neither really knew. “Way more likely to be near Judgeton.” “But that’s on the other side of the city!” my mom shrieked, now clearly listening in, nearly dropping my suitcase from the shock of me being even further away than Ben had been. “Maybe it’s Smacktown,” my sister calmly suggested, flipping through another page of her teen romance novel while sitting nearby in the living room. “I think you mean Smeckton, Katie…” my brother corrected. “Whatever…” Our sister quickly dove right back into her book, not caring if she was right or wrong. “You don’t really think he’ll be sent to that one, do you, Ben?” my mom asked worriedly. Ben hesitated, Mom seemed petrified, and Dad stayed eerily silent. The silence was nearly killing me, and I had enough with the questions already bubbling up inside of me. I wanted… needed to know why everyone was acting so strange about Smeckton. I needed one less question in my head before I left. “Hold on… what’s wrong with that place? Is there something I should know?” Everyone squirmed for a moment, but Ben ultimately sighed and came over to me before placing his hand on my shoulder like he usually did to comfort me. “I’m not sure I should even be telling you this… probably not even going there, but because you asked… the Smeckton center is one of the original locations. It’s far away from pretty much everywhere except the town of Smeckton. It’s…” Ben quickly looked distant as if recalling an old painful memory. “Well, it’s strict.” I could then see the flash of panic in his eyes, and I wanted to know more, but by then, I knew my questions would either kill my nerves or only lead to more questions. Truth is though, no one knew where I was headed until I sent them a letter the first day. For all anyone knew, I could be sent to the center up North by Suttonburg, or the one to the west beyond the mountains in Diana City, or one of the several others within 200 miles of here, the max radial distance as required by law now. Looking down at my feet now, I was reminded by how little I actually knew going into the center. Seeing my single suitcase next to them, all I really knew was that I could pack it and a single backpack with whatever non-banned items, such as the usual cadre of weapons, drugs, and all, that I could stuff in there. Further, no cell phones were allowed, and the school would provide a tablet with a keyboard to be used for the duration of my time there that they would heavily monitor. Normally, if this was some horror movie, that would have been a giant red flag and I would be screaming at the main character to bail as soon as possible, but going to the center was the law now, so my red flags had to be damned. Regardless, I lastly knew that before 1 PM, a bus or van would show up and take me away. Everything else I knew was only rumors, mostly pertaining to option B, and I didn’t want to dwell on those for very long. It turns out I didn’t even have long to dwell on my thoughts even if I wanted to. Just as the clock chimed to announce that it was 12:30, the screeching of van tires could be heard outside. All jokes and conversations going on around me instantly died. We all looked to the front of the house with dread. While my brother’s tires an hour ago now had screeched and seemed to represent a hope or a sense of life and joy, this screech seemed more like the pained echo of the death of all hope, like some wailing spirit from the bowels of all that was bad in the world. Gulping, I went to the window first and pulled back the curtain to confirm that my greatest fear so far in life had now arrived and was waiting to take me away. The tiny bus was white and painted with the official logo for the ‘Juvenile Evaluation Center for All Males’ organization. Like the pale horse of death, it was coming to take me away to my ultimate doom. Though it was never actively talked about, that van was the source of nightmares all around the world for any guy who had just turned 18. With its arrival at their house, the horrors of fate of every guy out there now came as well. Even the guys who eventually passed had to go through this particular gauntlet and whether they admitted it or not… doubt crept into everyone’s minds who stepped onboard. What awaited us on the other side when we eventually exited that van was a mystery to anyone who hadn’t lived it. For those that made it, like my brother, they never talked about it. So, for someone like me, it only made things worse. “It’s here…” My words tumbled out of my mouth like I was announcing that the executioner had just arrived and was ready to lop off my head for committing treason. My family looked equally pained… almost as if they were never going to see me again. Still, our mom quickly launched into me and gave me a huge hug. Our dad soon followed, and even Ben and Katie joined in as well. It was supposed to be comforting, but not even remembering the last time every single member of my family hugged me… it didn’t help my nerves. Finally, though, the bus honked, and everyone let me go. “I guess I’ll see you all at Thanksgiving, right?” I wasn’t even sure about that at this point. Apparently, some didn’t even last that long in the program. “We will, but until then, keep your chin up, John,” my dad said with a swill of pained emotion in his voice. “Listen to them but don’t let them get to you.” “He’s right,” Ben added. “Just follow the rules, and before you know it, it will be done and will just seem like a bad dream.” His old look of pain resurfaced again, and I felt that blasted queasy feeling in my stomach bubble up once more as well. My mom, tears beginning to form in her eyes, gave me a small plastic bag full of homemade cookies. “For the road,” she said, seemingly only seconds away from losing it altogether. “Share them with anyone on there. Try and make a friend early…” she dabbed her eyes briefly. “But we’ll see you soon, okay? We love you.” Not able to form any words at all anymore, I just nodded and turned to my sister. For once in a long time, I didn’t see annoyance in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, but she then finally spoke up at last. “Just make it home again, okay?” Abrupt and not really comforting but caring in her own way. It was something, so not really sure what else to do, I simply nodded again and tuned back to everyone else. I cleared my throat and finally found my words again. “Well, wish me luck and see you all soon… I love you all…” It felt like such a weak goodbye, but I could feel my fear gurgling up in my body already and another honk signaled my need to leave anyways. I needed to keep it together, and by now, even if the driver hadn’t just honked again, I knew that I just needed to get on the bus and leave quickly. Prolonging the goodbye was just painful now. So, I donned my previously packed backpack, grabbed my single suitcase, and headed out the door. I then quickly rushed to the bus handed the driver the pass that had been sent to me in the mail last month along with the checklist of what I could, couldn’t, and had to bring with me. “John Clark?” the bus driver asked gruffly as I stood in front of the open door after giving him my ticket. I quickly nodded my head and kept my mouth shut. “Good.” He then placed my ticket in a bin next to him and turned back to me. “No funny business once you’re on board, ya’ hear? One step out of line and you start the center with one giant demerit.” His eyes glared for a moment and then oddly became softer. “Trust me, kid. You don’t want that. Those who start off with that almost never make it to the end.” I gulped but still nodded. “Y… yes, sir. No funny business from me. I swear.” A small grin appeared on his face, and he used his thumb to point to the back of the bus. “Good. Now, wave bye to your family and find a seat in the back. You have 30 seconds.” Not even thinking, I turned back to my family, all still huddled on the front porch, and gave them one last goodbye wave. I knew that it was the last time I was going to see them until the first holiday break over Thanksgiving. It was the longest stretch of time away from home at the center on average, but still, I couldn’t help but drift away from all that and feel a little strange about not seeing Laura or any of my other friends here to wave me off like Ben’s had. I was comforted in the fact that I had said goodbye to each of them already. I also knew Laura had already headed off to college and per the law, my friends were going to their own separate locations, but all this still felt strange. It didn’t feel like my life or that all this was even real, but as soon as I neared the bus and saw a few passengers already seated there as well… somehow, everything began hitting me all at once that all this was very much my new life and not just some horrible dream. Coming out of my thoughts and seeing my family still, I could already tell that mom was starting to break down and that Ben and Dad were trying to comfort her. It wasn’t the cheeriest of goodbyes, but still, it felt nice when each, even Katie, waved back to me and flashed me symbols of love and luck. It was a nice moment, but with the clock counting down and the bus already humming back to life, I waved one last time and then found a spot in the back. A sputter and a small screech later, the bus was off, and my old life was left in the dust behind me. About 20 minutes later, we had picked up two other guys and were now headed into the mountains to the west of the city. ‘Definitely not Dawsonville then…’ I sat back and tried to put my own fears out of my mind as buildings and main highways soon gave way to trees, hills, and valleys. “Name’s Bill.” The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, but I then saw a red headed guy looking right back at me. I then saw his hand arched back over the seat and extended right to me. “Oh, uh, I’m John.” I quickly shook his head. “Good to meet you.” “Hey,” another voice to my left called out. “I’m Luke.” Bill and I turned over to him. His letter jacket seemed an odd choice to bring, since everything would either be burned or shipped back to our houses, but admittedly, there was a part of me that wondered if it was almost like his safety net against whatever was coming or a reminder of better times. Still, Bill and I smiled and quickly welcomed another into our midst. Likely sharing the same apprehensions about where we were headed, we quickly bonded, though admittedly, Mom’s cookies also helped smooth things along. “So, any guess as to why the roommate agreement we signed said, ‘until graduation or one of you departs?’” I had wondered the same thing myself, but it had been a question I was definitely too nervous to even attempt to ask Ben about. “I don’t know… kind of didn’t want to think about it.” “Fair enough,” Bill noted. “I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’ve seen some of the older guys in my neighborhood and well…” Luke and I nodded. We both knew what he was implying. “Same here,” Luke said quickly. “This one guy still wets the bed in my neighborhood. Apparently, his parents still consider him a ‘good’ outcome. How messed up is that?” “Very,” Bill agreed. Both turned to me, waiting for my answer, but I couldn’t help but feel differently… As if fate was stepping in, I quickly saw a sign for products to help caregivers with those who had failed the program and were doomed to option B. It was a cheery and even gaudy display of their products with a guy posed off to the side seemingly enjoying them. It stood in stark contrast to the dark and swirling clouds behind it. “Well, all things in perspective, I think it is actually…” I said, turning back to the two guys who I hoped would be my friends. Unfortunately, both looked at me like I had bugs crawling from my ears. “Still messed up, definitely, but… it could be a lot worse.” “Worse than bedwetting?” Luke seemed shocked, but Bill remained quiet for a moment. I thought back to his earlier reference to the older guys in his neighborhood. I nodded. “Much worse.” I sighed and specifically remembered the Killian’s. “My neighbors… we were really close with them. My older brother, Ben, was about as old as their only kid, Franklin, so they became friends pretty quickly growing up. Got even closer when Ben was there for him when his dad died.” “So, what does that have to do with this whole thing?” Luke asked impatiently. “Well,” I continued, “they went to the center together. Lasted over two years even, but then, one day, Ben came home… Franklin didn’t.” “What happened?” I could already hear the nervousness in Bill’s question. He had every right to be and I suspected that despite his question, he already knew the answer. “Ben graduated,” I said, with a feeling of hope that maybe I could as well, but that hope was also dashed because of Franklin. “Franklin didn’t. And now… he spends his days like any other diaper-filling and drooling toddler out there who went with option B… and that’s on his good days. So yeah… considering what could happen, bedwetting isn’t too bad.” Ben and Luke seemed horrified about that outcome and sat back in their own seats, too shocked to say anything more. I had forgotten that outcomes like those weren’t exceedingly common everywhere, but it was a reality that I knew everyone on the bus would have to come to grips with it sooner or later. As if on cue, lightning thundered in the distance as we rounded a corner, and my eyes turned to the distant rocky peaks and curving road we were now on. Staring out, a sign soon came into my view. It was hard to see at first, but a closer flash of lightning illuminated the wording perfectly; Smeckton – 14 Miles… Smeckton Institute and Juvenile Evaluation Center for Males – 15 Miles. I gulped hard at the realization of where the bus was now headed. My pulse began to race, and I closed my eyes, trying to shut out this new piece of bad news. This blasted program was bad enough, but from the little of what Ben had told me about Smeckton… my odds for passing, if its apparent reputation was anything to go off, had just plummeted. I hadn’t even made it to the center yet and already my luck was turning sour. I couldn’t imagine lasting another three years, but I knew that I had to try at least.

Chapter 1: “Abby, is this really necessary?” A whine sounded from her throat. Dani crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the ceiling as her legs were held up by the ankles. A warm wipe made its way over her nether regions, cleansing every inch of her dirty bottom and between her legs. “Yes, Dani, this is necessary. It’s necessary when you willfully disregard all instructions not to eat gluten. Really, Dani, what were you thinking?” her voice was firm, not angry, but the disappointment was clear. She’d only had a tiny bite of cake left on the counter and it was only too tempting dipping her finger into the frosting and biting into the yummy sweetness. The doctor said she had Celiac disease but Dani hadn’t believed a word they said. These Amazon’s were on a power trip and the only thing the doctor believed she should be having was milk straight from an Amazon’s tit. But now her tummy ached and the messy explosion down below was the result. Abby stared down at her with the same condescending look given to all Littles trying to prove they were bigger than they actually were. “Just because you are a Little does not mean we are all out to get you. Believe it or not, Doctor Heany actually wanted to help you. This is all your own fault, Daniella. You have no reason to be upset.” Okay, she did have a point, the Little reluctantly agreed. But, that didn’t mean she had to diaper her! Dani squirmed, wiggling around on the table as the Amazon woman reached down below, pulling out the thick padding. “NO!” She cried out, anxious to get away from the monstrous article of clothing, if it could even be called that. Dani knew she had been extremely lucky the past several years. The apartment building she used to live in decided they’d no longer accommodate unadopted Little’s after her neighbor had left the sink faucet running and fell asleep which resulted in the flooding of the entire apartment. The damage wasn’t extreme but the Landlord was not pleased. The Little was adopted not even a day later and the Landlord refused to rent to Little’s any longer. It wasn’t that Dani didn’t understand the Landlord’s frustrations but everything in this world was Amazon size, meant for those eight feet and taller. They had step stools and ladders and accommodations were made for the regressed but the average unadopted Little hardly stood a chance, especially when they couldn’t even reach a sink faucet - a task that would be simple if she wasn’t so short. And she’d gotten lucky, finding an Amazon that would even rent to her in the first place because most places wouldn’t even entertain the thought. A Little pretending to be an adult, no more mature than a toddler, yeah that’ll go well… Knowing she was about to be booted out on the street, tears welled up in her eyes. She was the prime candidate for any Amazon. They just couldn’t ignore their parental instincts, seeing a Little in distress (or any Little in general). The urge to smother them with “love” back into diapers and turn their brains to mush was too strong. But Abby wasn’t like the other Amazon’s - not really, well, kind of - she was different. Abby had saved her. But it’s not how she saw it at the time. Dani had been arguing with the Landlord, a grumpy ten foot tall man who never had time for Little’s and their whims (as he liked to put it) about just needing another day or two to move out her stuff. Her best friend said she could stay with her for a while until she was sorted. But she had too much stuff to move in twenty-four hours coupled with the fact there were about fifty other Little’s moving out the same day, it was an impossible task they were meant to fail at. Look at all the Littles, too immature to follow directions correctly. Too tiny to even lift and carry out all their items. That is why instead of them doing the carrying, they need to be carried by a big and strong Amazon. He’d all but laughed in her face as she continued to argue her case, not only for herself but other fellow Littles. However, it wasn’t until after, she’d realized she’d gone a bit too far. “I’m half tempted to call the adoption center!” The man exclaimed. “Not even able to follow proper instructions, disrespectful and talking back? This is a serious case of Maturosis.” Oh god. Her heart had dropped to the bottom of her stomach, unable to do anything as she watched him pull out her phone. “Please!” She pleaded. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry-” “What’s going on here?” They’d both turned around at the sound of the voice. An Amazon, one of the tallest she’d ever seen, came strutting over across the lobby. The woman must have been about thirteen feet and that was tall for Amazon standards. Unconsciously, she backed up, eager to be rid of both Giants because while one was worrisome, two was a nightmare. “Miss Brady!” The man’s voice turned jovial at the site of his fellow Amazon. “Nothing to worry about here. Just the standard case of Maturosis, I’m dialing the adoption center as we speak.” Tears poured down her cheeks and the Amazon stared down at her, blue eyes shining with an expression she couldn’t make out. The Amazon was beautiful and blonde with curves she could only dream of having. “Oh don’t do that,” the woman smiled, waving her hand. “I’ve been searching for a Little for myself actually! I think Little Miss -“ “Daniella Avery.” Said the man with a Cheshire cat grin as he hung up his phone. “Miss Avery would be absolutely perfect! You don’t have to worry about her apartment. I’ll take it over as well.” The Little didn’t have time to run as she was quickly scooped up and swung over her shoulder. The girl let out what could only be described as a tantrum. Kicking and screaming and pounding on the Amazon’s back, that should have been the end. At twenty-one years old, this should have been the point where her life drastically changed forever and any happiness she contained disappeared. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was quite the opposite. OoOoo Abby won in the end, like always, and could only smile at the pouting Little who couldn’t have been any more adorable in her puffy pink diaper secured tightly around her waist. Honestly, she’d be content making her go out dressed in only that but Abby really didn’t have the energy to deal with the tantrum that would surely ensue. “Why can’t I at least wear a pull-up?” “Do I really need to explain this Dani?” She did not. The Little stayed silent. “You know what we agreed on. Say it.” Her hand landed down on her pale thigh tainted pink, having been slapped one to many times in response to her poor behavior. Dani frowned, rubbing at her wet eyes. “Mommy knows best and Little girls need to learn that their naughty behavior has consequences,” diapers being it. All Abby really required was obedience and a companion to watch over but not regress. The Amazon, unlike most others, did not desire a baby to look after or to be called Mommy or diaper full-time. She wanted a Little she could snuggle up with at the end of the night, a Little that would still maintain their adult mind and could have normal conversations yet acknowledge their place in an Amazon's world. Dani could handle that because her Mommy, for all-intents and purposes, always said, it could be a lot worse. She had freedoms, too many to count and it just came over the small price of being fussed over and treated at the most like a five to six year old. However, the times she was diapered, dressed up in humiliating garb and made to nurse were her own fault. It was her own stupid actions having landed her in this position. Like now. But Dani knew, if she even voiced a desire to be regressed, Abby wouldn’t hesitate. Instincts always won over in the end. “Very good,” Abby smiled, patting her head. “Arms up.” The Little complied, allowing the sparkly blue dress to be slipped over her head ending just past her knees. Abby would’ve had her permanently dressed in pink just like her nursery and about every babyish outfit she owned but seeing a diapered Little in pink and alone in public was a recipe for disaster. Hands under her armpits, she was lifted to the ground. Her legs wobbled attempting to catch her balance having been on her backside for way too long. Her head didn’t even reach halfway up to the changing table just like every other item in Amazonia and while Dani was proud to be Little, she wished she were just a few feet taller. Only at 4’8, she was short even for Little standards which made her even more delectable to the Amazons and absolutely impossible to be taken seriously, more so than her fellow Littles. Now, Abby hummed a tune, something familiar from her childhood as they stood at the mirror, brushing her red curls back into a low ponytail. “All my friends are going to see that I’m wearing a diaper,” Dani sulked looking down at the ground because she couldn’t bear to stare at her own reflection. “You don’t have to play with your friends. We can always stay here and have a Baby day. We can watch your favorite movie and cuddle and have bathtime. I know how much you love bubbles.” Her cheeks turn pink at every word, worse than the last. Dani was mortified to admit how much she actually enjoyed herself during those times. It was maybe only a year after she’d been adopted that she truly let herself relax and indulge in the lack of responsibilities, realizing she wouldn’t be taken advantage of. Being taken care of for once instead of having to worry about her every little move, was a nice change. Still, Dani couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing this was exactly what so many Little’s were fighting against, what she had fought against, and here she was enjoying it. Even now, Dani wouldn’t mind a cozy day in her favorite fuzzy pajamas. But the Little knew it was more of a punishment and there was no fun in being reminded of how stupid she’d been. “What if they say something? What if they laugh at me?” “Then they are not your friends.” Finished tying the black ribbon at the top of her hair, she was lifted into her arms. “My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore though. I don’t need a diaper, really. I’ll be fine.” “But we can’t be sure, can we?” The woman gave her a look. “Besides, you don’t have to go to your friend's house at all but I know how much you were looking forward to the, what was it… bachelorette party?” No! She couldn’t miss it! Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she carefully considered her next words. Abby would keep her home if she really wanted too. She didn’t even have to let her keep seeing her friends and that’s what Dani appreciated the most. But like everyone, the Amazon had her limits and Dani was inching dangerously close to crossing the line. “You’re right.” The Little finally muttered in defeat. There was no arguing her way out of this one. “Of course I am!” She bounced her in her arms. “Mommy is always right!” OoOoo It was a sunny August day as they made their way outside from the third floor and out onto the busy street. Surprisingly, Dani had no fight as she was strapped into the pink stroller (which was always a problem). Abby watched as she laid her head back, soaking up the sun and her eyes closed. A hint of a smile appeared on her lips at the very visible sight of the puffiness beneath her dress, pulled up by the strap between her thighs. She’d fussed at the frilly white socks and Mary Jane’s but really, it was the least of her concerns. Even just the tiniest argument allowed her to maintain her sanity, showing that she still had a voice to fight back against her imprisonment. She closed her eyes as to not see all the cooing Amazon’s, pretending she was somewhere on a warm island sipping a Mimosa and not stuck in this horrible contraption they called a stroller. It was a quick walk, about twenty minutes away yet it couldn’t have felt shorter as they came to a stop in front of the five story building. Tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, the area was predominantly occupied by Littles and Inbetweeners, not quite as big as Amazons but still tall enough that they were ignored by the Amazons. “Here we are!” Abby chirped. Leaning down to undo all the belts, Dani didn’t hesitate to hop out, seeing that they were alone on the street. “Here is your phone and gift for your friend,” she reached down into the bottom pocket of the stroller. “Are you fine to go in on your own?” “Yes!” Dani said eagerly, grabbing the wrapped present and tiny flip phone. The last thing she needed was her friends seeing her Mommy walking her inside like a baby. “Very well. Do you remember our rules?” Abby bent down, taking her chin in her hand so she couldn’t look away. “Yes,” she sighed. “No drinking, no dirty behavior and no boys.” Dani struggled not to roll her eyes. It was the tiny restrictions like this that got her the most fed up. She was twenty-one years old for crying out loud and the girl had needs! “I will be back at six pm but text me if you need me beforehand or want to come home early. I will be here in a jiffy.” “Six?” Dani sputtered, doing her best not to stomp her foot. “That’s only five hours! The party is going on all night -!” “Daniella!” She said sharply. “I’ve been very patient all morning with your little fits. Do you want me to make it shorter? Do you want to go at all? We can turn around right now and go back home. We could also go upstairs and spank your little bottom in front of all of your friends.” A dark look had settled over her eyes, warning she was on her last straw. “B-but,” tears just about welled up in her eyes. “I hardly see Carly and it’s her most special day! Can I stay until ten at least? Pleaseeee?” “Absolutely not. Six o’clock.” “What about nine?” Abby paused, seemingly considering her words. After a pregnant pause she said, “eight o’clock.” “Eight-forty five-“ “Daniella…” her hand warningly grasped her bottom. “Fine.” She relented. “Eight o’clock.” The Amazon sighed. “That’s your bedtime so I don't want any whiny girl later on and don’t even try to argue for overnight since there is no adult present.” “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I’ll be good!” Dani couldn’t help but squeal, knowing this was the best she was gonna get. Attacking Abby with a hug to the neck and a thousand kisses to the cheek, really she was grateful. How sad was that… happy for just another two hours… oh how much she’d fallen. Her reaction was adorable, melting the Amazon’s heart because all she wanted was for her Little girl to be happy. She didn’t want to leave her alone with a bunch of other Little’s, especially with the very grown up behaviors they still presented, but it was a necessary sacrifice if she didn’t want Dani to despise her forever. Unlike other Amazon’s, she actually cared how her Little felt which was not a popular sentiment. “Now run along,” she sighed, disentangling her arms and patting her bottom. “You don’t want to be late.” OoOoo The receptionist knew her by now, a kind Inbetweener who really didn’t care if she was Little or not just as long as no trouble was caused. She said hello, practically skipping towards the elevator that for once was placed at the right height so she could press the button. The only reason Dani hadn’t moved in here was because the complex had reached their quota for Little’s allowed. Only thirty-five percent could be occupied by Little’s in order to accommodate the Inbetweeners so they wouldn’t feel upstaged. Not that it really mattered in the end, but still, it made her pissy just thinking about the stupid rule. It was a quick ride up to the fourth floor and the party was already in full swing. “Dani!” Squeals broke out throughout the room as she walked through the unlocked door. She was embraced with hugs from her already tipsy friends, not only drunk on happiness. “Congratulations!” She exclaimed finally seeing the blonde bombshell of her best friend. She embraced the bride to be in a short white dress meant to show off her boobs and ass in the best way possible. Abby would have a stroke if she saw what she was wearing right now. Dani couldn’t help but think. “Wha-what are you wearing?” Carly stepped back, finally taking in her appearance. Her face heated up, realizing all eyes were on her and the room had gone quiet. It wasn’t a secret that she was adopted but it was embarrassing knowing she was different from everyone else. Sometimes, the energy was just off. There was them and then there was her. It was almost as if they were weary of her, as if her Littleness would rub off on them somehow. They were still her friends, nothing would change that, but these days she felt even more insecure. “Abby.” Is all she said. Hums of realization went around the living room. “I’ve got clothes and makeup in my room,” said Carly. “Go change and for fucks sake, take off the diaper. No Amazon is ruining our night.” Oh, she didn’t have to say that twice! A smile lit up her face as the energy resumed and she rushed off. A few minutes later, there are large exaggerated bangs on the bedroom door. “Knock knock knock! Open up bitch!” Olivia. She smirked. “I’m naked!” “Even better!” The door opened to reveal the girl who had been with her through thick and thin. The girl who’d contemplated begging Abby to adopt her just so they could remain together before Dani had told her what a stupid ridiculous idea that was. But that’s who Olivia was. Crass, confident and unequivocally lovable. Her caramel skin positively glowed, hair pulled up in a crown of long braids in a short midnight black dress and don’t even get her started on her long tanned legs. She’d always been the hot girl in college. The one all the boys chased after and every other girl wanted to be. “You look hot. Is that a new brand of diapers? Gucci? I heard they’re making them extra absorbent nowadays.” “Oh shut up!” They collapse into a fit of laughter, jumping on their friend’s queen size bed. Olivia was the one person she didn’t need to hide around, the one person who could turn any awkward situation into a joke and who didn’t really seem to care about her new status in life. “Help me choose an outfit before they start wondering where we are. Jesus, she’s got so many clothes.” She walks to the closet, pulling out a blood red corset dress with a dangerous slit up the side. “Too slutty?” Oliva’s brows wiggled in a suggestive manner. “Not enough!” “Perhaps, we should consult with Mommy dearest. I wonder, does she have any matching red diapers?” “Don’t give her ideas,” Dani shuttered at the thought. “Now help me into that thing and do my makeup. I want to look our age for once.” OoOoo Bachelorette parties were supposed to be sweet and wholesome, celebrating the start of a new chapter in the woman’s life. For Carly, there would be none of that cutesy crap. As Littles they already dealt with it enough. Early marriage wasn’t uncommon for Littles in Amazonia because one day you could be free and the next day stuck in a crib. You never knew how much time you had. Dani hadn’t even gotten to the point of finding a boyfriend before being adopted and the thought of marriage was a faraway dream. That’s why she couldn’t have been any more happy for her friend, getting to live out all of her fantasies. “Are you staying the night?” Olivia asked as she carefully applied her eyeliner. “Until eight.” Dani sighed. “Let me guess, Abby?” “You bet.” She muttered. ”Good thing you’ll be here for the stripper then.” “Stripper!” Dani gasped, eyes flying wide-open. “Shhh!” Olivia put her fingers to her lips. “It’s a surprise. We planned it for Carly. Don’t say anything to her!” “H-how’d you even find one?” “The Underground, duh. How else would we?” It was no surprise that any raunchy, sexual activity including drinking were off limits to Little’s. Anything that threatened the innocence of a Little was outlawed. That’s why there was the Underground. Anything a Little needed could be found there. Alcohol, Lingerie, certain activities… you just needed to know where to look. “We figured you couldn’t stay the night so they’re coming at half six.” Dani was grateful for the thought, yet her face still turned as red as her hair. They shouldn’t have to make decisions like this in the first place or change the plans just to accommodate her. Often she wondered if her presence was more of a hindrance. “Don’t be like that,” Olivia nudged her playfully. “I love you. Carly loves you. We all love you. Let loose, have some fun before you go back to baby jail. Perhaps you’ll just meet the love of your life.” Dani barked a laugh. Imagine. A stripper and a diapered Little. That would make one hell of a story. OoOoo A/N: Hey all! I know it’s been such a long time since I’ve posted but I’ve been so busy with school. I’m coming up on my last year of college, I’m in the middle of an internship and getting ready for Masters programs so literally I’ve had no time for anything else! I just wanted to post a little something because I need a break from everything. I know that I have so many stories going on but when something pops in my head, I’ve got write it down! I’ve got about one hundred drafts of different stories written but I’m still working on Baby Dolls and whatever else is posted right now. I’m not really sure how long this story will be but please stick with me! This is my first time writing a diaper dimension story so please share your thoughts and as always, I love reviews! Also, I had no clue what to title this so any better suggestions are welcome!!!

Chapter 1 Tish held the pen in her hand. She was shaking and wasn't sure she would be able to sign the document in front of her. It was partly from fear and partly from anger. She still couldn't believe this was happening to her. She felt so alone but knew that there were millions of others facing the same thing. She looked down at the legal document in front of her. She had read through it twice but it didn't matter. At the bottom of the last page were spots for two signatures. On the left was a signature line labeled "Minor Person", waiting for her to sign. How could she be a minor person when she was 20 years old? Her birthday was in 4 days. This was rediculous. On the right was a second signature line labled "Sponsor/Adult" and that line had already been signed by her friend and roommate Jenn who was sitting next to her. Tish looked up at Jenn who was waiting for her to sign. Jenn gave her a reassuring look and nodded towardsd the paper, encouraging her to sign. All Tish could think about was how unfair this was. She and Jenn were practically the same age, yet they were in entirely different situations. Jenn was only a few months older than her and she was the 'adult'? If only she had been born a week early she could have escaped what was about to happen to her. She put that out of her mind and brought the pen down and awkardly signed the paper in front of her. "Thank you Tish. I know this is awkard for everyone but just know what you are doing here could save the human race.", The woman across the table took the signed documents, quickly reviewed them for accuracy and put them in a folder. "Uh huh, that's what they say.", Tish retorted. "Tish! Don't be one of those people. You know the science is clear on this. The whole world is doing their part in this. You should be taking this more seriously.", Jenn pleaded. "Want to switch places then?", Tish snapped back. "Jenn is right. You both need to take this seriously. The documents you signed today show your committment. Jenn, since you are acting as her sponsor and guardian with regard to the new laws, you will be held just as accountable as her to follow the rules and instructions." "We understand.", Jenn confidently replied while Tish folded her arms and looked down. "Tish, I we realize this is hard for you to accept. You just missed the age cutoff by a few days but there a lot of people going through the same thing. Frankly, I haven't seen anyone as reluctant or resitant to this as you. Jenn has spent a lot of her time going through the training necessary to be your sponsor. She has sacraficed a lot of her time and is taking on a big responsibility. You are lucky to have her. There are many people who aren't so lucky! People who don't have anyone close they can depend on. Those people have to depend on complete strangers, and it won't be easy for them, but we are all in this together. I guess what I'm saying is you are a lucky, and you should realize that. So I don't want to hear of any trouble from you two, ok?" Tish looked up at Emma and Jenn. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for what Jenn was doing for her but it didn't change the fact that all this seemed uncessary and unfair. She was so sick of hearing that we were "all in this together", everyone needs to "do their part" and all the other buzzwords and phrases the media and government pushed on everyone. She was sick of it. Anyone that spoke out against these new measures was deemed to be some sort of irrational selfish jerk. "No Emma, you won't. This is just such a strange thing going on for everyone. Everyone will come around I'm sure. And maybe it won't take long to find a cure or whatever. I'm pretty hopeful about that, but until then I'm sure we'll be fine once we get going and into the routine.", Jenn stated while massaging Tish's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "That is everyone's hope Jenn. Now if you don't mind, I've got about 50 more of these appointments today for the other stragglers. Please find your starter kit on the way out. It will be labeled with both of your names. Everything you need for your first week is included. Remember your training and everything will go smoothly. Remember, we have an appointment in 1 week from today, but remember that random inspections may happen at any time. Carry your ID with you at all times. Jenn, because you look young, you may be asked for proof of age. Tish of course won't have that problem. Good luck and I'll see you in a week." Tish and Jenn walked out of the office into a lobby full of people sitting and fidgeting awkwardly. All eyes were on them as if trying to seek out any information about how their meeting went. The room was full of different people of all ages. Guys, girls, children and their parents, friends, couples holding hands, and others. Tish wondered about all of the weird situations the new law would cause for people and their relationships. She wondered about her own relationship. Her boyfriend was 22, so he was immune to the restrictions. At first it made sense that he would be her sponsor but that option was quickly removed from the table. As the laws were being debated back and forth over the many months, some lawmakers got their way that there could be no opposite sex minor/sponsor relationships unless both parties were married or the person was a legal guardian. Of course, the government failed to take into account all sorts of other lifestyles, situations, exceptions etc. It was a typical bearucratic mess that you would expect. There were protests and speeches and marches, but in the end things move so fast that is how it ended up. No solution was perfect and no side of the argument got everything they wanted. The other fact was her boyfriend lived 45 minutes away which would also be inconvenient for other reasons. Luckily he was very supportive and said he would stand by her over the next year. Jenn found the box with their names on it and they loaded it into the car. The drive home was awkard. Jenn tried to make small talk and assure Tish everything was going to be ok. "You say that, but I'm the one having to go through this. I'm just really worried about John. He says he will stick by me." "He will. I've always like John, Tish." "I know but a whole year without sex? I just don't understand why we can't, you know, do other things. Why are they being so strict with all of it?" "Tish! We've talked about this before. You know why. The future of the human race is a stake. Even if you don't believe it or whatever, it's true!" "Yeah yeah, I know.. the science. But maybe we can sneak around somehow." "Tish, you know the rules. If you get caught.. Well, and...." "What?" "Umm, it's just that messing around is going to be pretty impossible for you." "Huh? Just what does that mean? Tell me!" "I'll explain everything in a bit ok? I'm really not supposed to tell you anything until we open the box later together." "Geez Jenn, like who is going to care. But whatever, you are always the rule follower." They arrived at their apartment in about 15 minutes and took the large box inside and set it on the floor. It was Sunday afternoon and they both had to work tomorrow, but they had a little time to relax before having to get ready for tomorrow or discuss the kit. They worked around the house for awhile, made dinner and opened a bottle of wine. When they were cleaning up dinner Jenn finally broke the ice. "Tish, it's time to go through the kit. There is a little worksheet we will have to do and things to discuss. We both have busy days tomorrow so we just have to do it and get it over with." Tish had noticed a slight change in Jenn's tone. Almost an suble aire of superiority or authority. She wondered if this was how it was going to feel for the next year. "I know.. I know I'm putting it off. I still can't believe this you know?" "I know.", Jenn took Tish's hand and squeezed it as she lead her over to the box. She knew a lot more about what was going to happen than Tish did. She had been through several training classes to become Tish's sponsor. For some reason they didn't want the minors, as they were called, knowing all the details. She knew right now all over the country people were about to do what they were doing. Open these boxes and have their lives changed. She knew people were probably live streaming it, blogging and posting things on the various social media sites. She tried to ignore the noise of all that and focus on what she could best do to support her friend through this. Jenn figured that after a couple of weeks the newness of all of it would wear off and people would just have to accept that this was the way of life for awhile and the world would adapt. Jenn handed Tish a pair of scissors. Tish slid the blade across the heavy tapes and the heavy cardboard box poped open. The scent of the air from inside the box hit her nose. It was unfamiliar to her but not unpleasant. She took a deep breath and peeled back the edges and looked in.

Description: A baby for a bully - A story in which a girl enters a very reclusive school and, at school, will suffer at the hands of bullies who will make her their baby -------------------Chapter 01---------------- Ha-na was a small, beautiful 16-year-old girl with blonde hair that shone in the sunlight. Two pink strands stood out in her hairstyle, giving it a touch of originality. Her biggest dream was to become an idol and create her own musical hits. To pursue this dream, she studied at a renowned girls' school that was forming the current idol groups. It was a sunny day when Ha-na decided to take a break in a local café. The establishment was not very busy at the moment, which gave her a quiet environment in which to relax. She entered wearing her standard school uniform, a skirt combined with a shirt. As he entered the café, his eyes met a woman sitting alone at a table near the window. The woman had a laptop open in front of her, and her gaze seemed full of curiosity. Ha-na approached and greeted her: "Hello, my name is Ha-na. May I join you?" The woman smiled gently and replied: "Of course, make yourself at home. My name is Park, I'm a journalist. I've been expecting you. We have some things to talk about." Park explained that he was working on a story about the famous Melody cases, that famous idol school that hides a lot of secrets She asked Ha-na to provide proof of the story she had mentioned in a previous email. Ha-na looked around, making sure no one could see, and, with a quick gesture, lifted her skirt, revealing a diaper. She then lowered it, showing that she was wearing it. Park was surprised by the revelation, but kept her expression calm. "Now that we have the proof, you can tell your story," she said. Ha-na sat in a comfortable chair in the small café, her eyes fixed on Park, the curious journalist who surrounded her with questions. Although hesitant at first, Ha-na decided to open up and share her darkest secret. It was something that few people knew, but now it was time to reveal it. After a brief moment of silence, Ha-na took a deep breath and began to tell her story. She revealed that, against all expectations, she had received a special invitation from the renowned Melody school. It was a chance in a million, as this school was known for training the most talented and famous idols in the country. The Melody School was a veritable paradise for aspiring idols. With several buildings spread across a vast campus, each dedicated to different aspects of artistic training, the institution was a veritable music empire. Ha-na described the campus as a magical place, where the sound of melodies filled the air and dreams came true. As Ha-na shared her excitement at receiving the invitation, she mentioned that she knew about one of the school's most famous future idols, Baek Ha-rin. The teacher accompanying her, Mi-hai, mentioned Ha-rin's name with admiration and enthusiasm. "Wow, you've got a great chance," said Mi-hai excitedly. "You're going to study in one of the newest rooms, newly created in the building that will house the most famous future idols, including Baek Ha-rin." Ha-na knew that Baek Ha-rin was one of the rising stars in the music industry. Her powerful voice and captivating stage presence made her one of the most promising idols of her generation. Ha-na deeply admired Ha-rin and dreamed of following in her footsteps and achieving similar success. As Ha-na recounted these details, Park's mind filled with images of the Melody school. She could visualize the spacious corridors, decorated with bright murals depicting the most famous idols who had ever passed through. Ha-na's school uniform, consisting of a pleated skirt and a white shirt with pink details, perfectly matched the school's vibrant and energetic atmosphere.

(I wrote this years ago, back in my fanfiction days. Some money may have exchanged hands for me to continue it, so I brought it back from the dead. I tried to find my original posting, but It's gone. So this is a repost with two new chapters.) The five and a half year old brown haired girl sat with her face scrunched in concentration as she stared deeply at the group of cheerios sitting on the kitchen table. MOVE! She yelled at it within her mind. “What the hell are you doing you little brat? Clean this mess off the table!” Harry Wormwood barked at his daughter. “Yes, daddy.” Matilda quickly answered swiping her hand across the table and scooping up the scattered pieces of cereal into her palm before making her way over to the trash can. “I work too damn hard for you to be wasting food like that!” The large man with the receding hairline said. “Sorry, daddy.” Matilda said returning to the table to properly pour herself a bowl of cereal this time. Matilda scooped a spoonful of cheerios in her mouth as she sat deep in thought. Maybe this was all just her imagination, Matilda thought to herself ignoring her older brother, Mikey, who had began throwing his own cereal at her. She had thought for sure she had somehow blown that TV in the living room to bits the other night. All she had done was glare at it while wishing it would break and the next thing everyone knew, it exploded! Maybe it was all just a coincidence. Maybe she had stayed up one too many nights reading past her bedtime. Matilda simply sighed again as she got up and put her empty bowl in the kitchen sink before finishing getting ready for kindergarten. Matilda slipped on her favorite blue dress before carefully brushing her hair and tying it up with her red silk ribbon. After carefully going over her “special homework” from Miss Honey (8th grade algebra) she packed up her backpack and waited by the car. Soon Matilda was on her way to her most favorite place of all-school. Matilda smiled widely as she took her seat behind her best friend after saying good morning to Miss Honey. “Want to hear something crazy?” Matilda whispered to her friend. “The other night I think I broke my families TV set; with my mind!” “I think you’ve been reading too much.” Lavender said giggling. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Matilda agreed smiling, but suddenly frowned when she was alerted by a sudden pressure coming from her bladder. Matilda looked at the clock checking to see how much time she had before class started. If the Trunchbull found her out in the hallway even a second after the bell rang! She didn’t even want to think about that! “You okay?” Lavender asked seeing the sudden serious expression on her friends face. “I have to go to the bathroom.” Matilda admitted blushing slightly. Normally she could hold it no problem, but today was show and tell and she didn’t want to be distracted at all. Suddenly the bell rang as everyone ran to their seats before the Trunchbull made her morning rounds. Everyone jumped slightly as a large stern looking woman with her hair pulled into a tight bun holding a leather riding crop stormed in un-announced. “Surprise inspection!” The Trunchbull yelled snapping the riding crop in her hand. “Everyone on your feet!” All the children, including Miss Honey, nervously sprang up at attention. “Textbooks have been going missing from my office!” The Trunchbull said walking up and down the row of children glaring at each and everyone of them as they all nervously averted their eyes. “I think I know just who the thief is!” The Trunchbull said glaring down onto the small brown haired girl. “Wormwood! Open your backpack!” Matilda gulped as she picked up her bag and unzipped it before having it suddenly snatched out of her hand and overturned onto the floor. Textbooks of various grade levels spilled onto the ground with loud thumps as the Trunchbull bent down to pick up the Intermediate Algebra book that under normal circumstances a kindergartener should have no business carrying around. “I-t’s not what it looks like!” Matilda stuttered as she felt the back of her dress grabbed. “Oh, I think It’s exactly what it looks like!” The Trunchbull said smiling maliciously while showing off her yellowing teeth. “You’ve been stealing books out of my office!” She spat. “Ms. Trunchbull, please-” Miss Honey started to say. “Shut up, Jen.” The fat woman said grabbing a fistful of Matilda’s hair from the back of her head causing the young girl to wince in pain as her eyes watered. “I’ve caught the thief red handed! Don’t try and cover for her!” She snarled pointing the riding crop at the blond woman who looked on with a look of horror on her face. “I’m taking the brat where she belongs and if you take one step out of this classroom you're fired!” She threatened while dragging Matilda through the hall and into her office. “No, please! Not the Chokee!” Matilda begged as she was drug along. “That’s exactly where you’re going you good for nothing thief!” She yelled opening a separate door that had several large nails and pieces of glass protruding from the inside. Matilda grimaced as the door was opened to reveal the tiny space only a child could fit in without being impaled by the sharp pointy objects. “Now stay there!” The Trunchbull said pushing the young girl into the corner and slamming the door closed and bolting it with several dead locks. Matilda whimpered as she stood in place while the door was shut leaving her in total blackness. Tears rushed into the young girls eyes as she stood trembling in the dark from fear. How long would she have to stay in here? An hour went by and then another as the cause of the girls trembling went from fear to her steadily filling bladder. She tried to take her mind off of it by thinking about the latest book she had read by Charles Dickens. Matilda moaned quietly shifting from foot to foot thankful that her small size allowed her that much room to move about. Her teacher, Miss Honey, had been giving her textbooks from more advanced grades to help her prepare for college. The Trunchbull must have noticed they had begun to go missing from the supply cabinet in her office. “I have to pee.” Matilda whispered in agony as she grabbed the front of her dress and bunched the material inside her legs to get a better hold. What was it that she had read about the human urinary system? Girls her age could only hold so many mls before their bladders gave up. Matilda moaned again as she used both her hands to press down in order to apply extra pressure. She didn’t dare call out for help for fear of her sentence inside the Chokee being doubled, or even tripled, but she was running out of time. If she had an accident who knows how the Trunchbull would punish her. Not just the Trunchbull, but her parents as well! Last time she wet the bed they hit her upside the head and took away all her books for a week! She was only three at the time to boot; she didn't want to know what would happen if her mom was called to the school to pick her up because she had wet. Matilda grimaced as she felt moisture beginning to enter her panties. She pressed down even harder and slightly bent her knees as much as the small space would allow. Another ten minutes in she had begun to leak for a second. Matilda wondered how long she had been in here. How many hours had it been? She moaned in desperation as a second longer leak escaped and then a third. “SOMEONE HELP!” She finally yelled out as the door began clanging as if someone was trying to open and close it without undoing the deadbolts. Finally after several hours Matilda lost control as she felt warm liquid beginning to trickle down her legs; slowly at first but picking up momentum as Matilda finally gave up and removed her hands as she sobbed. The steady stream of urine trickled and pattered onto the ground soaking her panties, socks, shoes and dress. Matilda continued to cry; she was hungry, tired, wet and miserable. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she heard someone approaching and undoing the dead bolt. There wasn’t enough time for her accident to have dried; there was no way to hide this. She clenched her eyes shut waiting for the worst as the door was quickly opened. “Oh, Matilda.” She heard as she opened her eyes to find a very worried looking Miss. Honey. “It’s okay, sweetie.” Miss Honey said pulling the girl out and wrapping her into a tight embrace while Matilda couldn’t help but cry and beg for forgiveness. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Her teacher said kneeling down to her height and lightly tracing the girl’s tear streaked face with her palm. “I’m sorry!” Matilda continued to sob, but stopped when she felt herself suddenly get lifted into the air causing her to wrap her arms around Miss Honey’s neck as she buried her head in her shoulder as she was carried down the hall. “Please don’t call my parents.” She begged as she was set down in the bathroom. “Why not? I’m sure they’ll understand. Accidents happen-” “No! They won’t!” Matilda insisted locking her fear filled eyes with Ms. Honey’s. “I wet the bed when I was three and and.” She said starting to sob again. Ms. Honey bit her lip anxiously thinking of what to do. Clearly something had happened in the past to worry her this much. This was so unlike the normally mature girl. Ms. Honey finally nodded in understanding as she remembered the last run in she had had with Matilda’s parents. “Alright, honey, I won’t call your parents.” The teacher assured her. “How about you wait here and I’ll see if the nurse has anything.” “Okay.” Matilda agreed calming down some and went and hid in a cubicle until her teacher had returned. “Matilda, I’m back.” Ms. Honey said entering the girls bathroom carrying a dress as Matilda peaked her head out from the stall. “How about you go in the big stall.” She suggested as she began to dampen a washcloth in the sink before following the girl into the teachers only cubicle. “Go ahead and take off anything that’s wet.” Miss Honey instructed as Matilda was forced to remove, well, everything while Matilda blushed as Miss Honey began cleaning her wet skin. “I’m sorry, dear, but this is all the nurse had in the way of underwear.” Miss Honey said apologetically as she held up the babyish teddy bear print diaper. Matilda blushed furiously while Miss Honey helped her put it on still standing and tape it up. “I’m sorry.” Matilda apologized again looking away once they were back in the empty classroom. “This wasn’t your fault.” Miss Honey said kneeling down and wrapping her arms around the girl in a big hug. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. You were in there for four hours; I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. Would you like to come over to my house after school? I can wash your clothes for you.” She offered referring to the bag Matilda kept hidden under her chair containing her soiled dress. “I’d like that.” Matilda nodded with a smile. Chapter 2 Jennifer Honey sat at her desk with a worried expression plastered all over her face. She shifted anxiously about in her chair as her eyes fell upon the empty desk that should have been seating her star pupil. While she loved each and every student in her kindergarten class; there was something special about Matilda. Her intelligence far surpassed any student in this school yet she was only six. How could she have been so stupid, Miss Honey chastised herself. She thought the Trunchbull wouldn’t notice a few books missing here and there, but she was wrong and now Matilda was paying the price. She needed to find a way to get her out of there, but with the Trunchbull sitting in a chair in the corner watching her there was nothing she could do. Miss Honey bit her lip anxiously as she worried about Matilda. She had seen children come out from the chokee completely traumatized and she couldn’t blame them. This had to be illegal she thought while she walked around passing out worksheets for her students. Suddenly the lights in the classroom began to flicker on and off as the Trunchbull jumped to her feet. Ms. Honey hid her smile knowing how superstitious the Trunchbull was. Maybe if something else happened she hoped while stealing the occasional glance over her shoulder at the giant olympian that was gawking up at the florescent lights while beating the case with her riding crop. Ms. Honey began instructing the children on how to work through the addition problems but froze mid sentence as suddenly the door to the classroom sprung open and then loudly slammed shut by itself. Ms. Trunchbull cowered away from the door as it continued to open and close by itself. Ms. Honey peeked into the hall as her eyes widened in surprise to see all the doors to all classrooms were opening and banging shut by themselves. The lights continued to flicker on and off as if someone was playing with the lightswitch. Ms. Trunchbull at that moments found what little courage she had left and sprinted out the door as it slammed shut behind her before opening once again. Teachers began peeking into the hallway to see what was going on as the Trunchbull sprinted down the hall, out the building and to her car. Ms. Honey immediately made a beeline for the principal's office after she timed her escape from the self operating doors. After jumping into the hallway she began sprinting until she got to the chokee to see the door rattling and shaking. Quickly Miss Honey unfastened the dead bolt and threw the door open to find the sobbing child standing in a puddle of urine. “It’s okay, sweetie, Ms. Trunchbulls gone now. You can come out.” Miss Honey said gently coaching the shaking child into her arms. “It’s okay.” “I’m sorry!” Matilda cried as she felt Miss Honey wrap her arms around her and pick her up. “Shh. It’s okay, Matilda.” Miss Honey whispered rocking the girl in place noticing that the lights had stopped flickering and all was finally still. How strange she thought as she carried the girl into the nearest bathroom and set her down. “Please don’t call my parents.” Matilda begged with wide pleading eyes filled with fear. Normally it would have been school policy for any and all accidents to be reported, but something in the girls eyes told her she should let this slide. What could she tell her parents anyway? Your daughter wet herself while we locked her in a cage for half the day? “Alright.” Miss Honey agreed. “I’ll try and find you something to wear.” She walked back down the hall towards the nurse's office while ignoring the streams of kids and teachers pooled into the hall for lunch break. “Ah, Jenny! What can I do for you?” The school nurse said looking up from her paperwork. “Hi, Carol. You wouldn’t happen to have any clothes that would fit a six year old girl, would you?” “You can check the lost and found box.” Carol said pointing to a drawer. “Thank you.” Miss Honey said digging through the box and pulling out a white one piece dress that looked like it would fit the girl. “What about underwear?” She asked after going through the box of mostly sweaters. “No, I don’t have any. What happened?” Carol asked looking up. “One of my students was put in the chokee for too long.” Ms. Honey explained with a sigh. “Poor things really shaken up about it.” “You want me to call her parents to come get her?” Carol asked quickly putting the pieces together. It wasn’t the first time a child had wet themselves from being left in there and unless something changed it wouldn’t be the last. “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ve met her parents before; I don’t think she get’s the love and support she needs at home.” Miss Honey said. “I think it would be better if I just helped her get cleaned up and we move on.” “You wouldn’t be talking about the Wormwoods, would you?” Carol asked going through some drawers. “Yep.” Miss Honey said nodding. “How’d you know?” “I called her mom once when Matilda came in with a fever. She told me to tell Matilda to suck it up, told me not to bother her and hung up.” Carol explained opening up a package and pulling out a plastic garment. “She can’t go without underwear so she’ll have to wear this.” She said holding up the diaper. “You don’t have anything else? I think this would just upset her more.” Miss Honey said frowning while examining the folded up garment with cute printed teddy bears. “It’s not even a pull up.” “Sorry.” Carol apologized with a shrug. “Kids don’t leave underwear lying around, thankfully. Here’s a washcloth too.” “It’ll have to do, thank you.” Miss Honey said before rushing back to the bathroom to find Matilda hiding in a cubicle. “It’s okay, no one else is in here. How about you come out and I’ll help you get cleaned up.” “What if someone walks in?” Matilda squeaked while Miss Honey dampened the green washcloth in the sink. “Then let’s go in the big stall. I found some clothes that will fit you.” Miss Honey said smiling comfortingly once Matilda finally stepped out of the cubicle and followed her teacher into the larger stall. “Alright, let’s see.” Miss Honey said inspecting the damage. The poor thing was literally soaked. “Go ahead and take off everything wet.” Matilda silently nodded turning her head away as she pulled down her soaked blue striped panties and dress leaving her completely naked. She jumped slightly as Miss Honey knelt down and began wiping her legs down with the damp wash cloth. Matilda blushed and closed her eyes. She wasn’t used to having anyone care for her and she definitely wasn’t used to having accidents. Matilda let out a quiet moan in embarrassment and covered her face with her hands as the washcloth moved higher up her legs until she felt it cleaning her privates and butt. “I’m really sorry about this next part, but It’s the only option.” Miss Honey explained as she unfolded the plastic garment as Matilda’s eyes grew wide in shock as her teacher began taping a diaper on her waist. “I-it was just a one time thing!” Matilda whimpered while her teacher adjusted and played with the waist band. “I’m- I’m not a -a baby!” “Of course you’re not a baby; you are a very wonderful and mature young girl who just had a run of bad luck is all. We just can’t have you going without underwear and this is all I could come up with.” Miss Honey explained motioning for Matilda to lift her arms so the dress could be slipped on. “There! All better.” She said smiling as she unlatched the door while Matilda picked up her wet clothes and followed Miss Honey out. “Thank you.” Matilda said still refusing to make eye contact after they returned to the now empty classroom once they found a bag to put the wet clothes in. Miss Honey glanced at the embarrassed young girl who took her seat and stared out the window. Miss Honey wondered what she could to do make Matilda feel better until an idea struck her. “Would you like to come to my house after school?” Miss Honey asked. “I have a large collection of all sorts of books you’d be interested in. I could even wash your clothes for you.” She smiled seeing the shine in Matilda’s eyes return as the girl nodded gleefully. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………. The rest of the day went along smoothly without any paranormal activity. Miss Honey quietly chuckled to herself as she saw Matilda making weird faces as she tried to adjust to the extra padding underneath her. Miss Honey sighed in frustration while she quietly graded papers during nap time. While other students were learning how to read and write basic words and letters, Miss Honey had Matilda writing full essays and book reports. Another grammatically flawless research paper on the human heart she thought as she read over Matilda’s work. Matilda didn’t belong in kindergarten, or even elementary school for that matter, but the Wormwoods had nearly slammed the door in her face when she suggested she begin preparations for college. The Trunchbull was of course no help either, accusing Miss Honey of being weak minded and that she was attempting to “pass the little brat off on someone else”. Seeing no other solution, Miss Honey took it upon herself to provide Matilda with the proper level of education she deserved and began trying to assess just how high of a grade level she should be at. So far she had aced every test this school had to offer which put her above the 6th grade. What she really needed was a full time private tutor, but there was no way she could ever convince the Wormwoods to pay for something like that. Once the final bell had rung dismissing the children, Matilda hung back eagerly awaiting getting to spend alone time with her favorite person. “Ready?” Miss Honey asked smiling as Matilda enthusiastically nodded her head. “You need to call home first and make sure it’s okay with your family.” “Oh.” Matilda said as she bit her lip. “Okay.” She said finally dialing the number into the phone sitting atop the desk. Miss Honey frowned as she overheard the conversation on the other side that sounded a lot like “Don’t bother me with that.” “They said it’s fine.” Matilda lied. Close enough Miss Honey thought as she grabbed her stuff and walked out the door. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Just how had she let this happen Miss Honey thought as the two of them huddled together in the small closet in the mansion. She should have never told Matilda the story of her childhood. She thought that by explaining to Matilda that she hadn’t grown up in a loving home either Matilda wouldn’t feel so alone. The young girl had looked shocked to learn of Miss Honey’s father’s death and of being forced to live with the Trunchbull as her aunt growing up. What she hadn’t expected was Matilda to run into the house when she told her of her lost doll that was left behind. While walking past the mansion that rightfully belonged to Miss Honey, the two had hid behind some bushes as they watched the Trunchbull pull out of the driveway and next thing she knew Matilda had made a mad dash inside to retrieve Miss Honey’s doll. Overcome with sudden nostalgia Miss Honey had looked around instead of getting Matilda and making a run for it. Not five minutes later the Trunchbull had returned and the two of them were forced to hide in the nearest closet. That was nearly two hours ago Miss Honey thought as she sat on the closet floor with Matilda in her lap. Miss Honey grimaced as Matilda leaned back putting pressure on Miss Honey’s full bladder while she cursed herself for not using the bathroom at school before she left. How was she supposed to know she’d be hiding in a closet from her deranged aunt all night? She wondered if this was how Matilda felt being stuck inside the chokee all day. She grimaced again as Matilda began shifting in her lap increasing her discomfort dramatically. The girls restlessness only seemed to be increasing as the minutes slowly dragged on. “What’s wrong?” Miss Honey whispered in Matilda’s ear when she heard a small quiet whimper escape the young girls mouth. “I have to go pee.” Matilda mumbled as she shifted again. “Yeah me too.” Miss Honey whispered back. “As soon as she goes upstairs we’ll make a break for it. Just try not to move so much.” She said as she felt a sudden spasm from her bladder from the pressure of Matilda’s constantly shifting weight against her lower stomach. Miss Honey began to worry that if they didn’t make it out soon she really would feel like how Matilda felt earlier. At least Matilda was wearing protection she thought giving the girls front a pat to see if she still had it on. Miss Honey shook from the effort of clenching as Matilda squirmed causing a little to leak out. She’d have to get Matilda to sit still or else she was going to have an accident too. There was only one way that was going to happen. “Sweetie, it’s okay if you can’t hold it.” Miss Honey whispered through clenched teeth. “Just go ahead and pee in your diaper.” “No, I can hold it!” Matilda said pressing her hands into her lower half. “I’m not a baby.” “This doesn’t make you a baby.” Miss Honey whispered wrapping her arms around Matilda to hold her in place. “It’s called being resourceful and making due with what you have available.” “But…” Matilda mumbled trying to think of a counter argument. “Sweetie, just go. You’ll feel better.” Miss Honey encouraged holding the girl against her while petting Matilda’s hair. “I won’t tell anyone.” “Promise?” Matilda asked as her face burned with embarrassment at the thought of wetting a diaper while sitting in her teachers lap. “Promise.” “O-okay.” Matilda mumbled turning her body and burying her head into Miss Honey’s shoulder as the woman tried to comfort her by rubbing her back. Miss Honey bit her knuckle and clenched her thighs together while she heard the loud hissing of Matilda relieving herself into the garment secured to her waist. Miss Honey could feel the diaper slowly expanding atop her legs and growing warm. Matilda lightly trembled as she kept her head buried in her teacher’s arms. “It’s okay.” Miss Honey whispered when she realized the girl had begun to cry. “Shh we still need to be quiet.” She said as she lightly patted the girls back. “I’m going to be in the same boat soon if we can’t get out of here.” She admitted as she sharply inhaled wishing the space she was in was big enough to move around. “What time do you think it is?” Matilda asked as she felt her teacher beginning to tremble and fidget. “Six maybe.” Miss Honey said through her now labored breathing. “Matilda, no!” She gasped as Matilda stood and slowly opened the closet door to peek her head out. “She’s watching a movie.” Matilda whispered sitting back down in Miss Honey’s lap who let out an audible groan. “Miss Honey,” Matilda said studying the pained expression on her teachers face in the dimly lit closet from the cracks in the doorway. She smiled sympathetically knowing her teacher wasn’t going to last much longer. Miss Honey let out a weak smile as she clenched her fists at her side. “I guess now I understand what you went through today.” She groaned feeling a leak escape and then another as she desperately tried to keep holding it in despite her dress already becoming visibly wet. “It’s okay, Miss Honey.” Matilda said wrapping her teacher in a hug once her little hand had felt the dampness on her teachers dress. “I won’t tell either.” With misty eyes Miss Honey nodded knowing it was going to happen anyway. She patted Matilda’s head as she forced her clenched and trembling body to relax. Almost immediately pee gushed and hissed into Miss Honey’s panties as it pooled beneath her soaking her dress and legs. “I can’t believe I just did that.” Miss Honey said with a depressed sigh. “ I haven’t had an accident since I was a little girl.” After another 20 minutes Matilda stood and peaked her head out the door again to find the Trunchbull snoring loudly in the recliner. “She’s asleep.” Matilda whispered as Miss Honey stood from her puddle on the ground and peeked her head out. Quickly and silently the two made their way through the house and out the front door. It was nearly 7pm by the time they made it to Miss Honey’s and both were in desperate need of cleaning up. After throwing all the clothes in the wash Miss Honey took a quick shower before calling Matilda’s parents to ask if she could stay the night. After getting a less than courteous, “You can keep her for all I care” Miss Honey hung up the phone and was about to ask Matilda what she wanted for dinner when she heard a sudden “Woah!” Come from the living room. Matilda stood looking up at the overflowing bookshelf that took up nearly half the wall. Her brown eyes sparkled as she read over all the different titles. Miss Honey smiled as she quietly watched before taking a seat in her favorite recliner and instructed the girl to pick one. Matilda stood indecisive for a moment before finally choosing one about a dragon. Miss Honey then motioned for Matilda to climb up in her lap as the young brown haired girl eagerly obliged as she pushed up the sleeves to one of the woman’s old T-shirts that nearly went down to Matilda’s knees. After snuggling up close to her teacher Matilda began to read out loud with ease, never stumbling over any difficult words until she could barely keep her eyes open. Miss Honey finished reading the chapter for her as Matilda closed her eyes and rested her head on Miss Honey’s chest as she listened to the woman’s voice lulling her to sleep. “I wish you were my mommy.” Matilda muttered before losing consciousness. Miss Honey stopped reading in surprise and looked down to find the young girl fast asleep. She smiled and set the book down as she lightly stroked Matilda’s back. “I wish I was your mommy too.” She replied. Chapter 3 There was just no way she could make this happen she thought as drew up a document of her monthly finances and bills. She could barely support herself on her income. How could she support a small child? Not to mention she’d need to get her a private tutor. Miss Honey sighed before switching off her monitor and joining the girl in her bed who appeared dead to the world. She smiled as watched the girls deep even breathing for a few moments before flicking off the light on her nightstand. It was a nice thought, but it could never work on her current income. Who's to say her parents would even just hand her over to her just because she asked? Them supporting her while living here would probably be too much to ask for as well. How would she even start that conversation? Hi, remember me? Since you don’t seem to want Matilda, can I have her? There’s just no way she thought until she felt a pair of tiny arms wrap around her waist as a small body huddled up resting it’s head on her stomach. I’ll find a way, Miss Honey thought to herself while running her fingers through the young girls thick brown hair as the pair slept peacefully through the night. …………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Miss Honey was the first to awaken Wednesday morning in the darkened room. She squinted her eyes at the digital alarm clock which read 6:08 AM. Just a few more minutes, she thought taking notice of the sleeping girl cuddled up against her chest. She could be yours, the voice inside Miss Honey’s head told her as she lightly rubbed the girls shoulder. Can she really? Miss Honey thought as the girl began to slightly stir. “Time to wake up, Matilda,” Miss Honey whispered as the girl slowly opened her brown eyes before searching the room in confusion until finally they met with the woman’s kind smile. “Did you sleep well?” She asked as Matilda nodded her head in response as Miss Honey began lightly stroking the back of the girls head. Suddenly Matilda’s eyes went wide as the color drained from her young face causing Miss Honey to retract her hand. Was she uncomfortable with this much affection? The woman tried to best to read the startled features on the young girls face, but came up with a blank. It was almost as if she looked...afraid? “Honey, what’s wrong?” She asked growing concerned once Matilda’s eyes had quickly begun to fill with tears. Suddenly the girl ducked into the covers before pulling them up over her head as she curled into a ball sobbing. “Matilda, please come out.” Miss Honey said worried. Did she do something wrong? Did she somehow hurt her? Why are the lights flickering? The bed is...shaking. An earthquake! “I-I can’t.” The woman heard coming from underneath the covers. “Why not?” Miss Honey asked, but received no reply. “Would you come out if I made...french toast?” Nothing. “Pancakes?” Still nothing. “You’ll have to come out if you want to go to school.” Miss Honey said smiling at finally seeing movement underneath the covers as a small tear streaked face popped out. “What’s got you so upset this morning? Are you scared of earthquakes?” She asked as Matilda shook her head. “The only time I’ve seen you this upset was when you...oh.” Miss Honey said as she pulled back the blankets to confirm her suspicion. “I-I’m sorry!” Matilda said as more tears fell down her face. “Matilda, it’s ok.” Miss Honey said with a soft smile. “Look at me; it’s ok. It was just an accident.” “I haven’t wet the bed since I was three.” Matilda mumbled looking back down. “How about I run a bath for you, and we forget this happened? Just like yesterday,” Miss Honey said as Matilda nodded her head as her teacher lead her into the bathroom to run the bath. Matilda stood awkwardly in the corner gripping the bottom of the now wet T-shirt as she watched Miss Honey fill up the tub for her. “Go ahead and get in and I’ll bring you your clothes and a towel.” She said. “Just go ahead and throw the shirt on the ground, and I’ll wash it later with the bedding.” Matilda nodded again and undressed before tentatively sticking her foot in the water to check the temperature before slowly lowering herself in the tub. I can’t believe I peed in Miss Honey’s bed, Matilda thought as she breathed a heavy sigh. That’s three times in one day! She’s never going to let me stay over again. Matilda let herself sink lower into the water as she imagined her teacher telling the entire class what she had done. What if she puts me in the chokey as punishment? Once Matilda was settled in Miss Honey walked to the back of her cottage where she stored her washer and dryer. After collecting the girls now clean clothes from the previous day and a towel Miss Honey stood in front of the open bathroom door studying the girls worried expression as she sat motionless in the tub. Poor thing, she thought before making her presence known. “You look so down.” Miss Honey commented as she sat on the closed toilet seat lid. “I enjoyed getting to read with you last night.” She said after a moment of silence. “I enjoyed it too.” Matilda said while finally meeting the woman’s gaze. “I’m sorry about your bed. You’re probably never going to let me come over again.” She said sadly. “Matilda, it’s normal for kids your age to occasionally have accidents; these things happen. Haven’t you ever read that?” “I did, but it’s not normal for me.” “Have you been stressed more lately?” Miss Honey asked as she began digging through the bottom cupboards underneath the sink and produced a large plastic cup with a nearly completely faded design. “I guess being put in the chokey was pretty scary.” Matilda admitted. “It would scare me too.” Miss Honey agreed as she dunked the cup into the water and poured it over the girls’ head. “I don’t like being in tight spaces. Miss Trunchbull used to lock me in the closet for hours as punishment. Ever since I can’t handle feeling trapped.” “Were you scared yesterday in the closet?” Matilda asked as Miss Honey nodded. “I was, but you were there with me so it wasn’t too bad.” Miss Honey said splashing the girl in the face. “Hey!” Matilda said giggling. “You’re always welcome here, Matilda; bedwetter or not.” Miss Honey said with a smile as the light returned in the girls eyes. “Really?” Matilda asked. “Really.” Miss Honey answered. “As long as it’s okay with your parents of course. I can’t just kidnap you, but whenever you feel like staying over you’re more than welcome. “Now, think you can hand me that shampoo bottle over there? It’s the white one in the corner.” “Sure.” Matilda said as she stretched out her hand. Suddenly the white bottle began to shake before it slowly rose in the air by itself and floated gently into the girls outstretched hand. Matilda stared at the bottle in utter shock before slowly meeting the woman's equally stunned gaze as the two sat in silence trying to process what just happened. Chapter 4 Matilda sat alone in her room among the pile of borrowed library books thinking about the past two days. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to her afternoon in the Chokey. The feeling of being trapped inside that tiny little space made her chest tighten in anxiety. She closed her eyes, while taking a few deep breaths as she leaned back on top of her bed. It was bad enough she had had an accident then, but to follow it up by being put in a diaper by Ms. Honey. She shivered at the thought. Then she got them both locked in a closet for several hours where she ended up wetting the diaper, and poor Ms. Honey, she thought. It must feel so much worse for an adult to have an accident. To top the whole day off, she just had to go and wet the bed! “Ugh” Matilda moaned softly. Other than that though; it had been so... nice. Never before had she felt so cared for than she had in that 24 hour period. She smiled as she remembered the feeling of Miss Honey’s warm arms wrapped around her. When was the last time her own mother ever made her feel like that? Had she ever? No, definitely not. She had never held her or read with her, or even... said she loved her. How many perfect scores on tests had she shown her in hopes of earning some kind of praise only to be told, “that’s nice” or “I’m on the phone”. The way Ms. Honey had held her though. It had made her feel like she was actually...wanted. She probably does that with all her students though; It’s not like she was anything special. So what if she could read at a higher level or do a few math problems. She probably does that all the time. “I hope she lets me come over again sometime.” Matilda mumbled wrapping her arms around her pillow pretending it was her teacher’s soft stomach as she remembered the lovely feeling of having her hair played with. Would she ever let her over again, she wondered. It wasn’t just the bedwetting that was the problem now after all. Matilda had actually scared her teacher. She grimaced as she remembered the look Ms. Honey had given her after the bath tub incident. It was a look of pure fear. “She probably thinks I’m some kind of freak now; that’s definitely why she wants to meet with my parents alone tonight.” She had had this inexplicable feeling for days now that something...strange was going on with her and just the other day wasn’t she trying to move cereal around? To think that it actually happened though. It wasn’t just her imagination; it really happened! She was elated when she had gotten over the initial shock, until she saw the look on her teachers face however. The two had walked to school that morning in complete silence, leaving Matilda to wonder if she had done something wrong. She hadn’t meant to make the shampoo bottle move on its own, it just sort of happened. She went to reach for it, but it came to her instead. The feeling of guilt intensified when Ms. Honey forbid her to tell anyone what had happened that morning; even Lavender. She felt kind of bad ignoring her friend all day in favor of daydreaming or looking over at Ms. Honey for some sign that she wasn’t in trouble. If only she’d smile gently at me like she usually does, she thought unaware her teacher was lost in her own thoughts. Matilda had been so distracted that day that she hadn’t even finished all of her special school work like she usually did and was forced to take it home as homework on top of her usual reading assignments. Pre-Algebra and intro to chemistry just didn’t hold her interest like usual. When Matilda heard the doorbell ring, she sprang to her feet and dashed to the end of the hall peeking her head around the corner so as not to be seen. She could hear her parents grumbling about their show being interrupted as an unhappy Harry Wormwood opened the door to find one of his least favorite people standing in the doorway. “What do you want?” Harry barked. “Mr. Wormwood.” Miss Honey said trying to stand up as straight as she could under the intimidating man’s glare. “I’d like to talk to you about the possibility of adopting your daughter.” Chapter 5 The twenty-three year old dirty blond haired woman sighed and bit at the inside of her cheek as she asked herself for what felt like the millionth time how she was going to make this work. It would help if her aunt didn’t take most of her paycheck, but the fact of the matter was, she did. Nearly all of it. She told herself, as she had told herself many many times, it was the only way she could get this job. The Trunchbull had gotten her way, as she always had by terrorizing the girl growing up, and had prevented the woman from attending college, even though it was Miss. Honey’s dream to become a teacher. She was lucky in the sense that the Trunchbull didn’t care if the teachers she hired had proper teaching credentials or not, as the children’s well being was not her first priority- or any priority. Cranham Hall had an extremely high turnover rate for teachers, as it was widely known the Trunchbull would simply fire anyone right before hitting tenure, if they could even last that long. Most simply gave up mid year. As far as Miss Honey was concerned, they’d never had a teacher last more than a few years before they’d crack under the terror of the Trunchbull. So whether it was desperation, or the Dictator like Principal simply wished to continue tormenting her niece by keeping tight reigns on her, she offered Miss Honey a teaching job, under a signed contract that 75% of her wages went directly in the Trunchbull’s pocket. For “Back payment of raising her,” the woman had said. “It’s not like she could teach anywhere else without a degree,” She had told herself many times and even though she took home less than a part-time minimum wage job, she was happy….sort of. At least she was making progress. It had taken years of saving to move out on her own into her shack of a cottage, but she was finally free! - sort of. Money wasn’t everything after all, but now that she was considering expanding her one person family- it was certainly becoming a bigger and bigger problem. A problem so big in fact, she was about to face her biggest fear of all- her aunt. Her legs trembled at the thought as she tried to take deep even breathing to calm herself down. She wouldn't ask for much, perhaps make it a 50/50 deal instead of 25/75. That was reasonable, right? And that was how she had ended up in front of the headmistresses door, her legs were shaking, she felt like she was going to be sick, but it had to be done- for Matilda. “What do you want?” Trunchbull yelled from the other side of the closed door ten minutes later once Jennifer Honey had managed to find the courage, somehow, to knock on the door. “M-Ms. Trunchbull...It’s..-It’s me.” The woman choked out, fear evident in her voice- just the way Ms. Trunchbull liked it. “C-can I come in?” She asked after receiving no reply. “Whatever.” She finally heard before pausing to calm her nerves, and gently pushing open the door with a creak. “Well, what is it? I don’t have all day!” The Trunchbull barked after seeing no effort on Miss Honey’s part to begin speaking first. A trait the Trunchbull had taught her very early in life. Do not speak without being spoken too- ever. That was the number one rule. “I-i’ve been thinking of starting a family.” Miss Honey finally said trying her hardest to keep from buckling under the Trunchbull’s menacing glare. “What? You actually found someone that would fuck you!?” The Trunchbull laughed in a disbelieving way as Miss Honey cringed at the sudden rise in her voice and coarse language. “You expect me to believe someone- no ANYONE, wants to see your disgusting body. Don’t make me laugh!” She said taking her infamous riding crop and circling around the young trembling woman while looking her up and down. “With what breasts will you tempt him with?” She asked taking the end of her crop and circling around Miss Honey’s chest and poking at each meager lump underneath her shirt. “With what ass will you shake at him?” She suddenly cracked the whip against Miss Honey’s backside causing the woman to yelp in pain. “Or are you trying to marry for money perhaps?” The Trunchbull said forcefully taking the younger woman’s chin in her hand and forcing the terrified soul to look her in the eye. “ANSWER ME!” “There is no man!” Miss Honey said anxiety gripping her core. This was a bad idea, this was a very bad idea. “So then what are you planning, you conniving bitch! Trying to run away from me are you?!” “N-No, Miss Trunchbull, I-I was thinking of..of adopting a child!” She stuttered out as the beast of a woman finally released her face. “O-one of my students actually.” “Oh, and where do you plan to come up with that kind of money? Being a whore? It would suit you.” The Trunchbull sneered. Jennifer closed her eyes in order the hide the fear in them. “I-I was hoping we could re-negotiate my contract...a little.” “Why would you even want one of those disgusting little things?” The Trunchbull asked sitting down in her chair as her lip curled in disgust. “This girl is...special, unlike anything i’ve ever seen. I just want to raise her in an environment where she would feel wanted and appreciated, most of all, loved.” Miss Honey said. “I was hoping maybe, I-I could keep a bit more of my salary so this could be possible.” “I’ll give you 75%” The Trunchbull said so suddenly Miss Honey didn’t believe her ears. She could only stare at the woman blinking in confusion as the sudden understanding. Was she finally coming around? With 75% she could pull it off! “IF” Miss Trunchbull started to say with a wicked smile showing off her rotting teeth. “You can last the rest of the day in there.” She said as she pointed her riding crop at the Chokey. Miss Honey’s face fell faster than a rock falling to the bottom of a pond. In there? There was no way...not anymore. It was the place that haunted many of her nightmares. The thought of stepping anywhere near that box of death made her lungs feel as though they were no longer doing their job. A cold sweat broke out over the woman’s skin as her eyes filled with tears. “A-anything but that, please!” She begged backing away from the door as her past childhood trauma at the hands of aunt came crashing down on her. “Since you obviously don’t want her, I take it you’ll have no problem with me expelling her, will you?” The Trunchbull grinned. “You’ll never see that brat again.” “No! Please, No!” Miss Honey begged as tears fell from her face. “Don’t send her away!” Miss Honey cursed herself. Why did she have to be such a coward? Why couldn’t she be brave and stand up to her aunt? Matilda stood in there for hours yesterday because of her; so why couldn’t she do the same in return? “What will it be? Get in the box or say good-bye to Wormwood.” She taunted grabbing Jennifer by her wrist. “Now doesn’t this bring back memories. Get in the closet or I’ll break your wrist...again.” She whispered pushing the struggling woman towards the chokey. “I won’t fit!” Jennifer tried to counter attempting to become dead weight, but the menacing giant pulled her along as if she weighed nothing more than one of the children the Trunchbull bullied herself. “Oh, I’ll make you fit, Jen. You’re still the little whiny, spineless coward you’ve always been. I think a little time in the Chokey will do you some good.” She said pulling open the door with one hand and tossing her in with ease. “A single peep out of you and you’ll never see the little brat again!” She said and with that, the door was slammed shut in Miss Honey’s face as bits of nails punctured her arms. She was indeed too big, but she managed to crouch down and pull herself in a ball in order to avoid any more superficial wounds from the doors “decorations.” The only question was how long she’d last. She was beginning to hyperventilate and it had only been a few minutes. The Trunchbull was right; she was nothing more than a coward who couldn’t stand up for herself or others. What would Matilda think if she saw her like this? She was crying like a punished child. Pull yourself together! Matilda went through this yesterday and was fine! Shooken up sure, but fine. She would be fine too. Deep breathes and keep your thoughts on something else. Miss Honey distracted herself with thoughts of the heroines in books she had loved as a little girl. Books had always helped her through those long miserable days as the Trunchbulls “plaything.” How many hours had she locked herself in her bedroom reading as an escape from her deranged aunt? Jennifer had always dreamed of being brave like them, but in truth, she was as weak, timid and powerless now as she was back then. Her goal was simply to be the kind of adult she wished she had in her life growing up. What she really wanted most of all, was to be that adult in Matilda’s life. From what she could tell, she deserved so much more than what her “family” had to offer. Matilda needed someone who could recognize just how special she really was- strange telekinetic powers and all. Miss Honey smiled faintly in the darkness remembering the previous night. Matilda had indeed said she wished Miss Honey was her mom, and it had sent the woman's heart a flutter like nothing ever had before. She had greatly enjoyed getting to cuddle up in her favorite chair while holding her and just listening to her read until Matilda had fallen asleep in her arms. It was pure bliss and the ache in her heart longed for more. Miss Honey had a lot of time while locked up to think about her second largest challenge. How would she convince the Wormwood’s to give her custody of their daughter? While not the most intelligent beings on the planet; they were certainly proud and marching to their house and accusing them of bad parenting sounded like a terrible idea. Another problem she encountered was how they viewed her. While clear they did not care for their daughter as a person; they might think of her as their “property.” As terrible as the thought sounded, it was the only way Miss Honey could imagine winning custody. She would have to play their game. It sounded horrible to the woman and she cringed at the thought, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was the only way. “Oh, Matilda, please forgive me for what I’m going to say tonight.” She whispered. She was smart; she’d understand it was all an act. Chapter 6 Matilda sat in her bed gripping her stuffed bear tightly. What was going on? Why was her teacher here at the house? The temptation to peek her head out of her room was quickly building up more and more. Her father had been in a bad mood when he got home from work, something about a raid on a warehouse and profit losses, but he may as well have been speaking an entirely different language. Matilda knew lots of things far above her age range’s capabilities, but her father’s business practices was an area she purposefully let herself be uneducated in. Some things she knew were best left unknown. They had just sat down in front of the TV when there was a knock on the door. Whoever it was, Matilda had thought at the time, they in for an unpleasant surprise. There were two rules in the Wormwood house: Don’t interrupt Harry Wormwood when he was eating, and don’t interrupt Harry Wormwood when he’s watching Tv. This person had broken both those rules. At first, he pretended he didn’t hear it and kept on eating his microwavable meal, but then the knocking began again. He snorted in annoyance with a, “I’m not getting that!” Matilda knew better than to answer the door as well. If Harry Wormwood didn’t get the door it meant no one was to either. When the knocking became more persistent, Harry Wormwood slammed his silverware down before pushing his tray away with enough force to knock it over. The air had become tense. No one uttered a single word while Harry stormed over to the door muttering curse words under his breath the entire way. The rest of the Wormwood family craned their necks to see who was brave or stupid enough, to come knocking on the door during dinnertime. Harry had sent the last door-to-door salesman running in a panic with a message to the others never to come back. When Matilda saw that it was her teacher, her heart sank. She was the last person she wanted to see treated poorly by her father. “You again!?” He had shouted, before turning and glaring daggers into his daughter. It was her teacher; therefore, it must be her fault Harry’s logic told him. “Room. Now!” And that was how she had ended up here in her room, worried out of her mind for the one person who had ever shown her kindness. Her curious mind couldn’t take it anymore. She slid out of her bed and hurried over to her door. She quietly as she could pulled it open and cringed at the loud groaning sound it made. She stood in place terrified as she wondered if anyone else heard that. After a minute or two of no one storming down the hall to punish her for trying to eavesdrop, she let out her held breathe and tried to focus on what was being said. Try as she might though, she couldn’t make out a thing. She had to get closer, she thought. She slipped out her open door and as quietly as she could tiptoed down the hall. Matilda stopped at the edge of the hall right before she knew she could be spotted. She held her breath as she strained to listen. ………………………………………… “Mr. Wormwood, did you know it cost 35,000 pounds a year to raise a child?” Miss Honey said. She was anxious and sweating. She was about to pull off the biggest bluff she could think off, in other words, she was lying through her teeth. She had no idea what it cost to raise a child, but if she had to guess, it was more around 10,000 a year. It was still 10,000 more pounds a year than she had. She was so relieved when Mr. Wormwood had told Matilda to go to her room so she wouldn’t have to say this in front of her. She’d look like an idiot. The first thing she had done was butter him up. She complimented his house, his wife, his business sense, and it had taken all her acting skills to do so, but also his intelligence. She had wanted to gag when she said those things, but it had served its purpose. Suddenly she went from unwanted intruder to guest of honor. She hated everything about what she was doing, but she had no choice. She had to play these people’s games. Mr. Wormwood’s smug smile faltered as he stared at her with a look of utter horror on his face. She could see the gears moving behind his eyes as he tried to do the math in his head. If she weren’t so nervous she would have surely let out a chuckle at how comical he looked. His face reddened like a frustrated child about to throw a tantrum over a simple math problem. “But I have two!” He finally blurted out before clenching his jaw. “Did you know that girls cost almost twice as much as boys?” She lied again. “We are materialistic beings: clothing, accessories, make-up, jewelry.” If he had half a brain he would have noticed Matilda was not that type of girl, but fortunately for Miss Honey all Harry could see were the dollar signs flying out of his pocket. He looked to his wife as she simply shrugged. It was true for her, so why wouldn’t it be true for the little runt as well. “I can’t afford two of you!” He barked. “Just last week she spent almost 125 pounds on hair products!” “Well, sow-rry, but my hair gets all frizzy when I use that cheap stuff.” Mrs. Wormwood complained twisting her long blonde locks in between her fingers. “I could lose my business!” He said. Miss Honey smiled on the inside. This is exactly what she had hoped would happen. Clearly their finances were more important to them than their children. Just one final jab into his pride. “What would the neighbors think of that?” Miss Honey said trying to sound as casual as possible. “It’s too bad you decided to have more than one kid. I could see you starting the next Vauxwell Motors.” She watched his face turn bright red. She wasn’t sure if he was about to yell and scream or simply internally combust. Finally he let out a defeated sigh. “You know, it might still be possible.” She said. He looked up at her, eyes begging for a solution. “Your son, he seems like such a good boy, a spitting image of you in fact. You could put him to work and together you could make that dream possible.” “Yes, you’re right. He is a spitting image of me, and if he’s anything like me, you know he’ll be great!” He said. Miss Honey nodded her head as she felt a little bit of her lunch coming back up. “Just think, Wormwood and Son, 1,000 car lot right off the highway where everyone could see your name.” His eyes shone brightly as he saw the dollar signs. Maybe he could even afford a commercial! “But Matilda…” Miss Honey said with a grimace. “As her teacher, I can honestly say, she doesn’t have what it takes.” “That runt is a burden to us all. I hardly believe that’s my own flesh and blood. I think there was a mistake at the hospital.” He scoffed. “What if I told you I had a plan that would save you 15,000 pounds a year and take away the burden of having someone like her in your family?” On the outside, Miss Honey remained calm and collected, but on the inside she wanted to scream. How could she say those things about her? Where was this manipulative lying side coming from? If her father could see her he would be ashamed. “You could sure make quite the investment into your business with an extra 15,000 pounds a year.” “Yes, yes I could!” “What if, for a measly 850 pounds a month, I raised her for you. I could turn her into a proper Wormwood for you.” “And you can’t do that at that school I’m sending her to?” He asked suddenly becoming suspicious. “Why should I pay you?” “She’ll be out of my class in less than a year. Then she’ll go to some other teacher that doesn’t have your best interests at heart. Not to mention, normally, it would cost closer to 3,000 pounds if she stayed here with you.” Miss Honey said. “Why should you bother to raise her if she’ll be no use to you?” She dug in her bag for the paperwork. This was it. All they had to do was sign this paper and she’d have a legal document agreeing that they would pay her child support. She wasn’t proud by any means of what she’d done, but once she had Matilda it wouldn’t matter. “So if I sign this?” Harry asked looking over the document. She could see him stumbling over the larger words as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Then she’s out of your hands and you’re one step closer to that empty lot by the highway.” She said. Her hands shook as she bounced her knees in anticipation. She was bouncing her knees so much she was shaking the whole coffee table. Wait…that wasn’t from her, the whole house was shaking! The last time this happened…Oh no! Miss Honey looked up and saw Matilda standing in the hallway. Her expression was one of which Miss Honey had never seen on her before. Tears were streaking down her face, not of sadness but of rage. Suddenly Mrs. Wormwood screamed. Photo frames, dinner trays, and sharp silverware was flying around the room. Even their 75 lb television set was hovering off the ground. “Ghosts!” Mrs. Wormwood shouted. “The ghosts are back!” She stood on the couch screaming and using her arms to cover her head. Did these people really believe in ghosts? “Not again!” Harry shouted grabbing a broom as he swatted at the flying silverware. So they didn’t know about Matilda’s powers. She could use this to her advantage. “Look!” Miss Honey shouted amongst the chaos. “Look at Matilda! She’s possessed!” Matilda’s eyes narrowed even more as everyone looked at her. The house shook even more violently and to confirm their fears, she lifted her hand and pointed it towards her father as a Tv dinner tray came from behind and smacked his bottom repeatedly. He swore loudly and as he begged for someone to help him. “It really is her!” Mrs. Wormwood shouted. The house was utter chaos. The light bulbs shattered one by one along with the tv screen. Fashion magazines swarmed around Mrs. Wormwood as she screamed and batted them. Michael was cowering underneath the coffee table, large butt sticking out as a prime target. Another tray dinner tray swooped down and smacked him as he shot up howling only to hit his head on the table. “Sign the paper and it will stop!” Miss Honey said amidst the chaos. “I will take her and banish the demons plaguing her!” “Sign it, Harry!” Mrs. Wormwood shouted. “Where’s a pen?” Mr. Wormwood shouted. A drawer off to the side began shaking violently and burst open as a pen shot out and stabbed into the coffee table just inches from his fingers. “She’s trying to stab me!” He shouted before tugging the pen out of the table and signing the paper. “OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Miss Honey grabbed the paper, grabbed Matilda’s hand and ran out the door as everything in the air fell to the ground. Now the only problem was calming her down. “Matilda, I am so sorry you heard that! I didn’t mean a word I said! It was all a trick! It was-“ Miss Honey searched the young girls face for the rage and fury it so obviously shown earlier, but to her surprise, all that was there was a mischievous smile. “I know it was.” Matilda said calmly. “You…you mean you’re not mad?” “You’re not the only one who can act. My father is stupid, but he would eventually figure out it was a trick. I needed to improvise to make him afraid. You played well on his pride and love of money, but the one thing that drives him even more is fear.” Matilda explained. Miss Honey stared at her in amazement. To think a six-year-old girl could process her surrounding that well. What surprised her even more was the suitcase and backpack she carried. Miss Honey hadn’t even noticed until just now. “You’re packed?” She asked. “How did you pack so fast?” “I had everything ready days ago.” She said with a smile. “I just knew you’d save me!” Matilda quickly latched on to the woman’s waist as they stopped walking. Miss Honey smiled widely as she bent down and held her new daughter in her arms. “So how do you plan to rid me of my demons?” She asked with a giggle. “I guess it’s something we’ll just have to figure out together.” Chapter 7 “Matilda, please come out.” Jennifer Honey said, trying to coax the small child out from under the blankets. The lump ever so slowly began to move forward until a small face emerged sporting a look of pure guilt. “It’s not your fault.” “I’m so-“ she tried to say, but was cut off by a gentle finger pressing against her lips. “You don’t have to apologize every time this happens. It’s okay, I promise. Why don’t you hop in the bath and let me take care of this? Leave your wet things in the hallway.” Matilda nodded her head and unpeeled herself from the covers before she made her way to the bathroom, head hung in defeat. At least the house didn’t shake this time, Jennifer thought to herself as she stripped the bed. Maybe she should schedule her a doctor’s appointment. In the week that Matilda had come to live with her, this was the third time she had wet the bed. With Matilda swearing up and down this never usually happens, Jennifer was worried. Perhaps Algebra two was a little too advanced for the six year old. Or maybe it was their other training that was too much for her little body to handle. What would she tell the doctor? I think my newly adopted daughter, whose parents I convinced was worth less than a car dealership, is wetting the bed because of the physical strain of having telekinetic powers? Oh yeah, that’ll go over real well. They’d think I was nuts. Great job, Jenny, lose custody over her before the paperwork is even finalized. It wasn’t like Matilda could use her powers on demand yet; although they had been having fun trying. The first night started with her attempting to levitate a piece of popcorn. Jennifer would throw it in the air and Matilda would try to manipulate it into her mouth. After a handful of failed attempts, they spent most of the evening just throwing popcorn at each other. It was great. They giggled, lost in an all out free for all, the purpose of the exercise completely forgotten. It wasn’t until Jennifer had launched a handful at Matilda’s face did they remember why they had started this in the first place. Instead of showering the young child in bits of popped kernels, they froze midair, suspended in place by invisible hands. It was then they discovered emotions to be the driving force behind it. The lights had flickered on and off because she was afraid. The popcorn kernels hung in the air because she was happy, and the worst of all, the night Jennifer had taken Matilda from her home. She had been hurt. The way her parents had given her up without a fight, even if that’s what she had wanted, hurt her to the point of being able to manipulate a household full of objects. It was as clear as day to Jennifer now. Matilda had lied. She wasn’t acting that night, and if she was, it was only to reassure Jennifer she was ok with it. Maybe the reason for her bedwetting now was because she was hiding that hurt deep within herself. The thought tore Jennifer up inside; to the point she was tempted to see if she could move objects as well. She wondered what she could do to help her. What could someone like plain and simple Jennifer Honey have to offer someone extraordinary like Matilda? An education? Jennifer spent more time learning from Matilda than Matilda learned from Jennifer. Money? Even with the money from her parents they would still be scraping to get by. Love? Yes, that was the one thing she could give her. Matilda had already stolen her heart long ago on that very first day. She’d shower her in the love and affection she had so obviously been lacking in. It was all she had to give her. “Miss Honey! I forgot a towel!” Matilda’s voice rang from the bathroom, snapping her from her thoughts. She went to the cupboard to look for the biggest, and fluffiest one she could find, but all that was there were thin, old ratty things she had picked up from a garage sale more than ten years ago. Hmm, that was something they could do today. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and the swap meet would be in full swing. “Here you go.” Jennifer said handing over the least torn up towel she had to the dripping wet and shivering child. “You know, it’s the weekend. You don’t have to call me Miss Honey at home.” Matilda looked at her puzzled for a moment seemingly lost in thought. “What should I call you then?” Deep down she wanted to hear the word, mom, but stopped when it was on the tip of her tongue. Too much too soon. “Jennifer’s fine.” “I can’t call you by your first name.” Matilda said. “You’re my teacher!” “Not at home I’m not, silly. Hmm, how about, Jenny?” She said, taking the towel from her and throwing it over her head. Matilda giggled as her head popped out. “I guess that’s okay, but only here. It’s impolite to call a lady by her first name.” “Whatever you’re comfortable with, but you still have to call me Miss Honey at school. Now what would you say to going over to the swap meet after breakfast? It’s a nice day out after all.” Jennifer suggested rubbing the towel over the girl’s head. “That sounds fun!” After a quick bite to eat of toast and tea, Jennifer pulled a mason jar of change out of the cupboard and examined it. She had maybe about ten pounds at the most saved up. She frowned slightly as she pulled out the highest denominations and put them her pocket. They’d have to be careful and only buy what they absolutely needed. “Miss Honey, here.” Matilda said reaching out her fist. Jennifer opened her palm as Matilda deposited a wad of bills in her hand. Where in the world had she gotten this? There had to be at least 100 pounds if not more. “I saved my allowance.” Matilda said with a shrug. “No, sweetie, this is yours.” Jennifer said trying to give it back, but Matilda just shook her head. “Hold it for me then.” Jennifer sighed, but agreed. She should be supporting her, not the other way around! She couldn’t spend a little girl’s allowance! She’d sell all her books if she had to! They walked out the front door and chatted about the book they had been reading together- an old warn out copy of a Charles Dickens novel Jennifer had picked up years ago at a second hand bookshop for fifty pence. Maybe if they still had the energy- and money- she could take Matilda there. She’d probably find it a lovely place to spend an afternoon browsing. When they got onto the main road ten minutes after 9 am, the little town was in full swing with the nearby farmers market as bustling as ever. After they finished with the swap meet, she figured she should stop by on the way back and pick up a few groceries. She’d have to ask Matilda what she liked to eat. Once they arrived, they got lost looking at all the little odds and ends people were selling in their stalls. Different kinds of music blared from various large boom boxes. A stall to their left sold every type of flower she could think of: lilies, tulips, roses, and daisy’s lined the white plastic table in ten gallon buckets. A tent to their right had dresses and blouses swinging from hooks in the gentle breeze. Food vendors were out setting up their sugary snacks on display sending scents of cinnamon wafting into the air. She was curious about what kind of things Matilda was interested in. All she knew of was her love of academics. Even her packed suitcase and bags-which she said she had packed days prior- was nothing but necessities. Not a single toy. Did she even have interests outside of reading? Jennifer kept a close eye on her as they walked through the stalls. The little girl browsed around, but nothing appeared to really keep her interest for long- until she came upon a beat up looking chess set. Her eyes shone as she opened it up and examined the pieces. “Do you know how to play?” Jennifer asked. “I’ve read about it, but I’ve never had any one to play with before.” Matilda admitted. “I had hoped there would be one in the classroom, but-“ She trailed off looking it over. “Well, chess is a little advanced for a kindergarten class.” Jennifer said with a laugh. “Would you play it with me?” “Of course! I’d love to.” Matilda smiled wide and pulled a five-pound note out of her pocket. Just how much money did this girl have? If she hadn’t known her to be such a sweet and honest girl, Jennifer would have assumed she cleaned her parents out before she left. The elderly man smiled and handed her her change, as he looked her up and down. “She yours?” He asked as Jennifer proudly nodded. “Make sure she doesn’t eat the pieces.” He said. Jennifer frowned and looked to Matilda to gauge her reaction. She had almost expected her to be angry at being talked down to, but she just smiled and shook her head. “I’m not very fond of the taste of wood, sir.” She replied before turning and searching through the other games he had. Jennifer stood at a distance glad to have found something she was interested in other than just books and schoolwork. Board games did seem like something she would be interested in. She wondered if he had any jigsaw puzzles they could do together in the kitchen, but a look to her left revealed Matilda was already one step ahead of her as usual. “Margaret!” The old man shouted into his trailer. “If I sold all the games here for two pounds each, and subtracted the seven percent the lot gets, what would my profit be?” “I don’t know! I’m not a calculator!” A woman’s voice shouted back. The man grumbled under his breath and reached for a pen from his pocket along with a dirty napkin. He sat hunched over scribbling number down. “We’d make fifty nine pounds and 34 pence if we sold everything!” He shouted back a few minutes later. “Your math is off.” Matilda said without looking up from the instructions on the back of the game. “You need to take your number of board games, multiply it by two, which gives you 72 pounds, and then multiply that by .07. That gives you five pounds and four pence. Now subtract that from your 72 pounds and you end up with a total of 66. 96 pounds.” The man blinked in surprise for a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. “Cute.” He said, before yelling inside for a calculator. A few moments later, the woman named Margaret appeared with calculator in hand and passed it off to him, before she returned to the sanctuary of the trailer. Miss Honey watched him curiously for a moment as he punched in numbers from his napkin. He remained still staring at it, before erasing it and starting over. “What did she say her answer was?” He asked after a moment of silence. “66.96 I believe.” Jennifer said, a smile spreading across her lips at his shocked expression. She knew that look. It was the exact same look she had worn the first time she had experienced Matilda’s calculations. “Here you go, six pounds for these.” Matilda said, handing him the money as she held up the puzzles she had picked out. He stared at her blankly for a moment, before thanking her and accepting the money. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t eat those pieces either.” Jennifer said as they continued on. Chapter 8 Matilda tossed and turned in her sleep. The dream had started off so pleasant. She was just about to be crowned England’s youngest chess Grandmaster. Miss Honey was there with a bouquet of flowers for her, and the audience was cheering. She heard a voice bellow from the audience, “That’s my daughter!” and “That’s my little girl!” She followed the sound until she locked eyes with her mother beaming up at her- an expression she had never received from her before. Matilda felt a rush of happiness and relief rush over her and then… everything changed. The audience gasped. She looked down at herself to see her bare legs damp with pee. Her dress was ruined. The cheers turned to cries of disgust. The expression on her mothers face became one she was all too familiar with, repulsion and indifference. “See, this is exactly why we sent you away!” Harry Wormwood yelled. “Disgusting, get her out of my sight! You’re a Wormwood it’s time you started acting like one!” Matilda felt a giant hand clamp around her arm. She let out a wail of pain as the Trunchbull dragged her off stage and onto a different one. She was thrust into a chair facing the other children in the school. There, sitting on a table was a giant chocolate cake. No! This wasn’t her punishment! This hadn’t happened to her! She was in the audience! Her only punishment had been… Then she found herself standing alone, wet and cold, staring at the nails in the walls mere inches from her face. If she dared move even a muscle she would be met with the sharp pain of rusty metal cutting into her skin. Even worse, she could get tetanus! She had read about that in a book and it sounded awful! A small panel opened and eyes peered down at her. She had expected the Trunchbull, but instead they were Miss Honey’s. “Please let me out!” Matilda begged. “I’m disappointed in you, Matilda.” “Wake up, Matilda.” “I’m sorry!” The small child moaned in her sleep and shivered from the damp bedding. A gentle hand touched the top of her head. Her eyes sprung open and she examined her surroundings. She slowly sat up and looked around the small apartments one bedroom. Various items that had once been on the nightstand were now scattered across the floor. A mirror that had once hung on the wall now spread shards of glass on the carpet. “Was there an earthquake?” “N-not quite.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . “Stress.” the doctor said after a moment as Matilda pumped her legs that dangled off the exam room table. “That’s it?” Miss Honey asked. “Are you sure? She really hasn’t been herself lately.” “How so?” “Well, she’s been acting sort of...well...childish.” Miss Honey said. The doctor raised an eyebrow as he looked at the small six- year- old girl sitting on the table, and then back to Miss Honey. “I mean she’s normally very mature, but she’s started,” She dropped her voice to a whisper, but Matilda could still hear the word “accidents.” “I mean, it’s not a big deal or anything, but I just want to make sure there isn’t some kind of underlying issue.” “I could check her blood sugar, make sure we’re not dealing with juvenile diabetes. Excessive urination can be a symptom.” “Please, but it’s not just that it's, well, how do I put this? Things have been… flying around the room when she gets upset.” “Flying around the room?” The dr. looked at the woman doubtfully. Miss Honey locked eyes with Matilda, whose expression was one of horror as she shook her head. “You mean she’s getting upset and throwing things?” “Y-yes, like that.” Miss Honey said. “So she’s been throwing tantrums and you’re concerned because it seems out of the ordinary for her?” “Yes!” Miss Honey exclaimed as Matilda scowled. She was not throwing tantrums, Matilda thought until she remembered last night. Miss Honey had brought up the idea of wearing diapers to bed. Logically it made sense! It shouldn’t have been such an issue, but instead of thinking things through like she usually did, she had resisted the idea and it had led to their very first fight. Not even a fight, but a disagreement...at least until the unknown pressure inside her had become so unbearable she had thrown it out and the invisible force smashed the bedroom mirror to bits. She couldn’t play dumb with her arms outstretched like some kind of cartoon superhero mid attack as glass exploded around the room. Matilda sighed. She knew she needed to apologize, even if she didn’t quite understand how she had made the mirror blow up. Matilda tried her best to tune out their conversation, even if it was about her. The pressure in her chest and behind her eyes was beginning to bother her and if she didn’t get it under wraps, she would unintentionally demonstrate what Miss Honey was talking about. She tried to think about Miss Honey’s promise that afterwards they’d go to the museum together. They were having a special exhibit today on ancient civilization. She had always wanted to go. It was huge! Three stories and there was a massive hedge maze in the back. She had tried on several occasions to go, but they never let her in without an adult. Even that though quickly lost its grounding ability after listening to the two of them go back and forth. “May I be excused? I need to use the restroom.” “Yes, of course. I need something from you though.” The doctor said. Matilda hopped down from the table and was handed a specimen cup. She examined it. She knew what it was for from reading about medical tests, but she had never had to herself. She couldn’t even remember when the last time she was in a doctor’s office. Had her parents ever taken her at all? “Am I current on all my vaccinations?” Matilda asked. Legally, she would have had to be for school, but she had a sinking suspicion Crunchem Hall wasn’t very particular about following the laws. Hadn’t she seen a girl in her class get thrown over a fence by her hair on the first day? Bruce Bogtrotter would agree “normal” wasn’t in their schools vocabulary. The doctor let out a patronizing chuckle. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard a little girl ask me if she was getting a shot that way before. Why don’t you let the adults discuss that?” “Please, I’m-” Matilda started to say, but was cut off. “Now I know shots can be scary, but it’s not as bad as you're imagining.” “I want-” “Now run along and go potty, or do you need your mommy’s help with that?” He gestured to the cup in her hands. The pressure in her eyes was too much to take. Behind the doctor, the wastepaper basket began to levitate. Miss Honey let out a gasp. “Yes, I think I’ll go help her!” Matilda felt a larger hand begin to pull on hers, and the trash can fell back to the ground with a loud thunk. The doctor swiveled around in his chair searching for the noise as Matilda let Miss Honey lead her to the bathroom. Once there, Miss Honey watched with a mixed feeling of apprehension and wonder as bits of paper towel floated around the family style bathroom. Matilda on the other hand, seemed hardly to notice. She stood as still as a statue, staring transfixed at the trashcan as garbage continued to rise. After about a minute, everything fell to the floor leaving the bathroom covered in trash. Matilda let out a relieved sigh and rubbed at her eyes. “Matilda.” Miss Honey said, a bit of apprehension in her voice. The young girl looked up upon hearing her name. “What’s going on? How long has this been happening?” Matilda thought about it. “Well, I guess it started when I accidentally blew up my dad’s tv, but i’m still not sure. I can’t control it or anything. I get this burning in my eyes and I feel like I’ll blow up if I don’t get it out. I’m really sorry about the mirror, Miss Honey. I wasn’t trying to break it, I had to get the pressure out before it broke me!” She blurted out without stopping. She hadn’t realized her eyes had begun to water and sting, but this time for a more mundane reason. “Please don’t send me back!” “Matilda, I would never send you back, sweetie. You are the most extraordinary and brightest child i’ve ever met. You are wonderful, and special. I’m sorry your family never recognized you for what you truly are. Maybe the doctor’s right and you are just under a lot of stress right now. Sometimes I forget you’re only six-years-old. You may have the mind of someone far beyond your age, but your body is still growing.” “I was embarrassed and. . . I lost control of it.” Matilda tried to explain. “I think I need more practice.” “Well,” Miss Honey said looking around the room. “I guess we can start by cleaning up in here.” Matilda took in the room for the first time and cringed. There were paper towels everywhere! One was even dangling from a vent in the ceiling! Not only that but the faucet had turned itself on. She pointed at the nearest piece of trash and concentrated and then… nothing happened. She pointed again and again trying with all her might, but the most she could get to happen was turning over a crumpled up wad on its side. “Where are you when I need you?” Matilda said. Resigned to her fate of manual labor, Matilda used her foot to sweep everything into a pile and Miss Honey picked it up and put it back in the trash. Matilda looked up at the vent. How were they going to get that down? “Do you want help with that?” Miss Honey asked quietly. “I guess, but how?” Matilda said, still looking up. “Well, you sit on the toilet and lift your gown up and i’ll hold the cup so you don’t drop it.” “Wha-” Matilda started to ask until she saw Miss Honey holding the specimen jar. Matilda’s face grew a shade of pink. “I can do it myself. I’ll meet you outside.” “Are you sure, it can be tricky with small hands.” “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” She waited until Miss Honey left, before reading the directions on the label and sat on the toilet. Why in the world would she think I needed help with this, she thought to herself. She lifted the gown and bent over, but she couldn’t see where to position the cup. All she could see was the gown no matter where she bunched it up. Some genius she was if she couldn’t even pee in a cup by herself. Resigned to doing it by feel, she blindly stuck the cup under her and relaxed. She could hear it splash in the bowl below. This wasn’t right. She moved her arm around under her until she heard a different sound and felt the warm liquid begin to fill from the outside. There, no problem. She had this. She. . . . . . . . “Matilda?” Miss Honey asked, seeing the young girl come out with her head hung low. “I dropped it in the toilet.” ….. They had made her drink eight cups of water. She felt so full by the time she downed the last one. She looked down at both her arms now covered in bandages and felt relieved. Sure the shots had stung, but the momentary discomfort was nothing in comparison to catching a preventable disease. She had been right to be concerned. She hadn’t been vaccinated since she was a baby. So it had been one shot. One cup of water. Another shot. Another cup of water. “I know Diphtheria isn’t very common here as its mostly found in Asia and developing middle eastern countries, but a virus that creates a toxin that can destroy the nose and throat, before leading to paralysis and death doesn’t sound pleasant. It’s still nothing compared to Polio though. Miss Honey, did you know that 1 in 200 people that had Polio ended up paralyzed?” Matilda rattled on. The doctor chuckled politely, as she spouted out different dates, until she had come to the M.M.R. vaccine. That date he did know off the top of his head. It was 1971 and as she confidently repeated it, he stopped in his tracks and stared at her as if he was noticing her for the first time. He had assumed she was pretending to know as children sometimes did in order to appear more knowledgeable than they really were. “That’s right.” he said as he knit his eyebrows together. He wanted to assume it was a lucky guess, but that didn’t seem right. “Do you know what M.M.R stands for?” “Mealels, mumps, and rubella, they each had their own separate vaccinations in the late sixties, but they didn’t put them together until early 70’s.” Matilda said. “Where did you learn that?” “A library book about contagious diseases. It was really interesting, but I skipped over the pictures, especially when it came to the bubonic plague.” “I don’t blame you. That medical book, you read it or did someone read it to you?” “I read it.” “And you understood it?” “Yeah, I wash my hands a lot more now.” “You said you were six, correct? How long have you been able to read adult books?” Matilda shrugged and thought about it. “Well, my parents left me home alone since I was three, and it was really boring so I’d walk down the library everyday since it was just a couple blocks. The children’s books stopped being all that interesting pretty fast, so I guess since I was four?” “Wait, what?” The doctor asked alarmed. He looked up at Miss Honey. “She’s been left unsupervised since she was three?” He gave her an accusing look. “Yes, that’s why she’s in my care now. She is a student in the class I teach and I started noticing signs of severe neglect. When I asked her parents about it, they signed over custody to me. I’m just waiting on the courts to make me her legal guardian.” Miss Honey explained. The doctor relaxed a little. “You must be a very kind person to take her in. Most would just report them and move on with their lives.” “Matilda is a very special girl. She’s not like other children her age. I asked my kindergarten class as a joke to multiply a large sum, and she knew the answer right away. I thought she was kidding until I worked it out with a pencil and paper.” “I’m starting to understand your concerns a little better, but I stand by my earlier assessment. I think it’s just stress. It can affect the body in strange ways, especially small children. I must admit I am quite impressed with her knowledge and mental capabilities, but she is still just a child. If the urine test and blood work come out fine, my advice is give it time. This is a big change in her life, and she might just be having trouble adjusting emotionally. If the bed wetting becomes persistent, get a mattress protector and maybe some of those absorbent night underwear for kids.” “No!” Matilda said, before cringing in embarrassment for interrupting. “I’m sorry, but please, no diapers. “I’m, I’m…” she started to say before pausing to get her thoughts in order. “I’ve really never had this problem before.” “Well, I wouldn’t call them diapers.” The doctor said, but she shook her head. “Well, then I would suggest no liquids before bed, and if need be, set an alarm in the middle of the night to wake you up to use the bathroom.” Matilda frowned. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “That’s a thought.” Miss Honey agreed. “Let’s do that then.” “You ready to try this again?” The doctor asked, handing Matilda another specimen cup. “Please take this nice woman to help you this time.” “You, you really don’t need to help me.” Matilda mumbled. “It’s kind of embarrassing. You’re my teacher.” Miss Honey frowned, feeling a little hurt. She thought they were more than teacher and student at this point. Is that all Matilda saw her as? “Well, we can’t have you drop it again, what if one of my female nurses went with you?” the doctor asked. Matilda shrugged. She’d rather do it herself, but she had blown that chance. Anything was better than accidentally peeing on Miss Honey’s hand or something. She might blow up the sink with her mind. She had read that viruses were spread via bodily fluids, and what if this sudden telekinetic thing was a symptom of some unknown illness? She couldn’t risk passing it on to her. Not Miss Honey. Anyone but Miss Honey. The nurse would wear gloves at least. If she couldn’t do this by herself, this was the next best option. She gave her agreement, before giving her small hand a glare. “This is your fault.” she whispered at it as she followed a young black haired woman with glasses back into the bathroom. “Go on and lift up your gown with both hands and spread your legs.” Matilda didn’t fight it when she felt herself get cleaned, it was weird but necessary with her hands occupied. “Now what you’re going to do is pee for a second to flush out anything, and then stop.” Matilda stared over at the sink and relaxed. One second went by, and then two. No, no, no, no!! “I can’t stop it!” “No worries, it happens. It takes practice, as long as I can get enough in the cup. Good, just a little more, and... this should be enough. D-did the sink just turn on?” Oops, Matilda thought as the nurse stood back up with the half-full cup. “Go ahead and finish up here and meet us back in the room. Don’t forget to wash your hands in the haunted sink.” Matilda breathed a sigh of relief when she was alone. Embarrassment seemed to be the trigger for whatever made her lose control. She didn’t realize doctor appointments could be so...awkward. At least all the embarrassment for the day was over, she thought as she washed her hands, blissfully unaware that the day had only given a taste of what it had to offer. Chapter 9 As smart as Matilda was, there was one thing she didn’t fully grasp, and that was just how remarkable she really was. She didn’t know why adults sometimes gaped at her with glassy eyes, or why Miss Honey kept telling her she was special. She had never thought herself as special before. She had certainly never been told so by her family. She enjoyed reading and learning new things, but in her mind that didn’t really set her apart from anyone else her age. She didn’t feel any different than her friends, Lavender and Hortencia. They all loved pulling pranks on Miss Trunchbull, but if anything though, if anyone was a “genius” it was Hortencia. Matilda and Lavender were in awe of her when it came to her bravery and how far she was willing to go to pull one over on the Trunchbull. They looked up to her, as any pair of six year olds would look up to an 11 year old, with awe and reverence. When Hortencia had told the tale of how she had single handedly snuck into the Trunchbull's office and sprinkled every single one of her pair of gym shorts in itching powder, it had elevated her to god status in their young eyes. Once the doctor had left the room, Matilda changed back into her overalls, glad to be rid of the gown. She got her legs in fine by herself, but when it came time to hoist the straps up, she winced. Both her arms gave off a dull painful throb which she fought through as she tried to fasten the buckles. There was something that Miss Honey had said that had bothered her. She didn’t quite understand what she had meant by “she was usually so much more mature than other kids her age?” What did she mean she was being more childish than usual? Did Miss Honey expect her to act like an adult all the time? Matilda had a sinking feeling Miss Honey was putting her on a pedestal far higher than she deserved to be on. Matilda wondered if she meant childish because she needed help sometimes. “How are you feeling? Still up for the trip?” Miss Honey asked, before taking the loose strap of Matilda’s overalls and buckling them for her. “Yes!” Matilda said and frowned as Miss Honey fastened her clothes for her. Was this childish? She had been enjoying having Miss Honey there, brushing her hair and tucking her into bed at night. It was a new experience for her, but was she not supposed to? Was that a childish thing to want help? Mom’s always did that sort of thing for their kids in books, but Matilda wondered if that’s why Miss Honey liked her, because she was “more mature”. Was she the exception to the rule because she was different? They walked in silence down a few blocks in the small village. Matilda stared questioningly at Miss Honey’s offered outstretched hand before they crossed the busy intersection. Was it some kind of test, she wondered to herself. Before she could make up her mind on what to do, Miss Honey had taken her hand and led her across. Matilda let out a small whimper as she let her arm be raised. She had only expected pain during the actual injection process, but not after. Once they stood in front of the large white multi-story building all thoughts of pain and childish actions were far behind her. Now she was the one who eagerly marched forward pulling Miss Honey by the hand. She was so excited to be here! The place was full of adults and children alike on a bustling Saturday afternoon. A banner hung on the entrance that read, “Come Meet our Award Winning Olympic Athletes! Today Only!” Matilda was fascinated by the displays. Each room had a different civilization. There was Rome, and Egypt, Incan, Persian, Ancient Greek, Chinese, Mayan and Mesopotamian. That was just a traveling display that came and set up one month a year before packing up and moving to another city. There was still the Museum's usual year around displays she had never gotten to see. There were paintings, and sculptures, and the Garden Maze in the back that drew flocks of families. She heard along the way there were hundreds of different types of plants to see. She had seen pictures in a book and it looked so beautiful. In the center of the maze was a huge gorgeous fountain. “So what do you want to look at first?” Miss Honey asked. “You pick, I can’t decide!” Matilda admitted. “How about we start with Rome and work our way around?” Matilda peered into various glass cases and read all about various inventions, and tools. There was a display about the founding of the Julian calendar she found fascinating. She hadn’t even realized nearly 30 minutes had gone by in the first room alone. She had been reading about the history of aqueducts when Miss Honey reminded her if they wanted to see everything she couldn’t stop and read every little plaque that had writing on it. They passed through Inca and Mayan territory, but Miss Honey had to practically drag her out of the Egyptian room. She would have stayed in there all day if given the chance. The mummies history, and the pyramids were so interesting that she hadn’t even flinched reading about the embalming process despite Miss Honey’s concerns about it giving her nightmares. After two-and-a-half hours they had finished all the civilization rooms. Matilda was ready to jump straight into the paintings, but Miss Honey pulled her in a different direction. “How about we take a break for a bit?” Miss Honey said. Matilda noticed she looked moderately uncomfortable. She seemed to be looking around for something, spotted it and Matilda obediently followed until they came to a line for the Restroom. It was fairly crowded and by the time it was her turn, Matilda began to feel the effects of all the water she had drunk. There was just one problem though, she realized as she stepped into a stall and closed the door. She couldn’t raise her dominant arm past her chest. Matilda winced in pain as she tried and tried again to reach the straps of her overalls. “Matilda, are you okay?” Miss Honey asked from the other side of the stall door after a few minutes. “Do you need help?” “N-no!” Matilda lied, sighing in defeat. Needing help getting undressed to use the restroom fell squarely in the childish category. She didn’t need to go bad anyway. She’d ask for help if it was an emergency, but for now she was fine. She kicked the plunger with her foot for show to flush the toilet and came out to wash her hands. “Ready for more?” Miss Honey asked and Matilda eagerly followed. She quickly forgot about her predicament for the next twenty minutes until she found herself shuffling from foot to foot. She stared at the paintings with less rapt attention and focus to detail. After another ten minutes she was no longer enjoying the paintings at all. She was about to admit defeat and ask Miss Honey for help when a familiar voice behind her called her name. “Matilda! Miss Honey!” Matilda spun around to find her older, blonde friend Hortencia and her mom. “Oh, hello!” Miss Honey said as Hortencia made the introductions. “Be careful out back at the Olympics display.” Hortencia warned ominously. “The Trunchbulls here and in a foul mood.” “Why?” Matilda asked, her joy now turned to horror. “Have you ever seen her in a good mood?” Hortencia shot back. “No, I mean why is she here?” Matilda asked, but the answer to her question came to her the moment she closed her mouth. “The Olympics display.” “Yeah.” Hortencia nodded before leaning in close and whispering in Matilda’s ear. “And because I put something in her drink.” She grabbed Matilda’s hand and slipped something inside of it. When she pulled back away, Matilda examined the laxative wrapper crushed in her fist. She nearly lost control of her bladder from laughing, only recovering once she crossed her legs and leaned forward. “You okay?” Matilda gave a side glance at Miss Honey, but she was busy talking to Hortencia’s mom to notice. “I need your help.” Matilda whispered. “Not here though.” She waited for a break in the adults' conversation to ask as politely as she could if she could go show her friend something in the other room. “I’ll be right back!” Matilda reassured them both once she had gotten their consent and dragged Hortensia by the hand towards the restrooms. She froze in dismay as she read, “Closed for Cleaning.” “What, what did you want to show me?” Hortencia asked. “Nothing, I needed your help with my overalls. I can’t get them off and I need to pee.” “Why didn’t you just ask Miss Honey? Why do you need my help for?” “Because. Besides it doesn’t matter, it’s closed.” Hortencia rolled her eyes. “That’s such a little kid problem. You little kids can't hold it for five minutes without peeing your pants. Fine there’s another one downstairs. I’ll take you.” Hortencia groaned acting like it was the biggest chore. “Thanks.” Matilda mumbled, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I can’t lift my arms for some reason. ” “Why?” Hortencia asked as the two of them rode the escalator down. “Got a bunch of shots this morning and-” “Tetanus, wasn’t it?” Hortencia nodded her head in understanding. “Had to get one after spending all day in the chokey. I came out with all these cuts and scrapes before Trunchbull let me out. I had to tell my parents I got cut from the metal in the jungle gym, but yeah, couldn’t lift my arm for a week.” “So it’s normal?” Matilda asked. “I guess.” “Where are you two going?” A voice rang out. They turned to see Miss Honey and Hortencia’s mom at the top of the escalator about to ride it down. “The bathroom!” Hortencia yelled back up. “Matilda needs help getting her pants off!” Matilda cringed. “Thanks.” she mumbled. She could feel the heat radiating off her face. “Tell the whole place why don’t you.” “I think I will.” Hortencia said with a grin. “She’s about to pee herself!” She yelled back up before letting out a laugh. “Lighten up, no one cares, you’re just a little kid after all!” Matilda was horrified and the worried expression on Miss Honey’s face didn’t help. Even worse, she could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. She rubbed at them as tried to get the sensation to go away. “Jeez, don’t cry I was only teasing you.” Hortencia said. “I’m not crying, there’s something up with my eyes.” Matilda said. She stopped at the bottom of the escalator and blinked trying to get the sensation to go away. “Matilda! Are you okay?” Miss Honey said. Matilda could hear the worry in her voice without looking at her. She must have taken two steps at a time to get to her this fast. “I’m fine, my friend is just picking on me.” Matilda said, plastering on a fake smile. Try as she might, she couldn’t stand still long enough for that sentence to ring true. “Are you going to lose control?” Miss Honey whispered in Matilda’s ear. Her face burned crimson. “No! I don’t have to go that bad!” Matilda said. “I meant the other thing.” Miss Honey said. “Oh, umm, I- I don’t think so.” Matilda said, sounding unsure. The burning pressure was now worse thanks to the question and the realization that they were surrounded by precious and priceless artifacts was not lost on either of them. “Let’s go outside just in case.” Miss Honey said. “Can I use the restroom first?” Matilda asked, but she knew the answer to that question as soon as a poster fell off the wall behind them. “Quickly! Let’s get you out of here!” Miss Honey scooped Matilda up and raced outside, leaving behind a confused Hortensia. “Uh, see you at school!” She yelled after them. Miss Honey briskly walked outside only to find the courtyard packed from the Olympics display. There was nowhere for her to release the pent up energy without being spotted, and the last thing either of them wanted was to be caught by… “Jen! Jen! What brings you by?” The Trunchbull asked. “Come to see me perform my famous hammer throw perhaps? Wait, what are you doing with the Wormwood brat?” The Large muscular woman sneered at Matilda, who hid her face in Miss Honey’s shoulder. No matter how brave she was with her friends, her natural instinct was to shrink in terror when caught face to face with the horrible beast. “Absolutely! I wouldn’t miss it! When’s the next demonstration?” Miss Honey asked, trying to appease the horrid women. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing out of school with the Wormwood brat?” “We came to see the exhibits, and-” Miss Honey’s words were cut off by a faint gurgling sound. Miss Trunchbull's face paled. “What do I care what you do with the little vermin on the weekends?” The Trunchbull said before storming away inside while holding her stomach. Miss Honey breathed a sigh of relief before spotting the maze. “Here!” She said, rushing inside around a few corners and into a dead end. She set Matilda down in front of a pile of leaves when they were sure they were alone. “Would that help, whatever it is to calm down?” Matilda nodded and stared fixated at the pile until it was as if a strong wind had entrapped itself in the corner of the hedge. Miss Honey watched the leaves swirl around for a few moments, until the small pocket of wind died down. Matilda now kneeled on the ground with her ankles crossed and hands holding herself. Using her powers had made her urge to pee so much worse. She suddenly felt very weak. She gasped as she felt a small trickle escape into her pants. No. No. No. Not while she was awake! Not in public. “Oh, Matilda, I didn’t know you needed to go this badly. ” Miss Honey said. She rested her hand on the small child's back. “ I’m-I’m fine.” Matilda said, before standing up. She still shifted from foot to foot, but felt she could move on. She looked down at her pants alarmed at the tiny dime sized wet stain. She covered it quickly with her hands, but Miss Honey had already seen it. “Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t undue the clasps? I would have helped you.” Miss Honey said gently as they slowly made their way towards the center of the maze. There had been a sign for porta-potties along with an ominous sign. “Due to the recent cost of the dying plant life and flowers, please use the portable facilities located in several points along this maze.” A large red circle with a parent and small male stick figure peeing into the bush was crossed out with a big red line through it along with more text underneath. “Punishable by permanent ban and 250 pound fine.” “Because it was a childish thing to need help with.” Matilda mumbled, as she shuffled along as fast as she could. “I can’t lift my arms from the shots.” “Matilda, look at me.” Miss Honey said. Matilda kept moving but looked up. “I want you to rely on me, okay? I know you’re so used to having to take care of yourself you don’t know what it means to rely on others. But If you ever need anything, big or small, I want you to tell me, okay? I don’t want you to feel you have to do everything by yourself.” Matilda nodded, too preoccupied on the situation to let the words she was hearing sink in. Her eyes were watering and her pants felt suspiciously damp. She was afraid to look at the damage. After three more wrong turns, her heart soared when she saw the exit. “It’s the center!” She cheered rushing forward until she stopped dead in her tracks looking horrified. “What? What is it?” Miss Honey said, until she saw the problem. “Oh no.” She mumbled, before meeting the near crazed look in Matilda’s eyes. “Well, I guess we better get in line.” They stood in the back and waited with Matilda occasionally letting out a cry. She couldn’t hide her situation now. A tiny wet streak ran down a pant leg. Passerby’s offered Miss Honey a sympathetic nod as if to say, “Been there with my little one.” The door to the only porta potty finally opened. A mother and her toddler were about to go in when the crowd jumped as something large barreled towards them all. People left and right were shoved out of the way with grunts of, “MOVE!” and “Out of the way!” were hurled at them. The Trunchbull, holding her stomach, pushed and shoved her way to the front of the line, knocking over the mom and toddler in the process before going inside and slamming the door in the process with an angry THUNK. Miss Honey looked down at the horrified look on Matilda’s face as she held herself, tears now streaming down her face. She rubbed her back sympathetically, before guiding her away. “I have an idea.” She said. Matilda whimpered as she saw her last remaining hope vanish in front of her. She couldn’t make it through the maze to the other bathrooms. “Over here.” Miss Honey whispered, leading her into a corner of the last dead end they had come across. “Take off your shoes and socks.” Matilda thought she knew what Miss Honey wanted her to do. Her face turned red, but it was better than having a full blown accident. Miss Honey was going to stand guard so she could pee in the grass like a dog. She kicked off her shoes before pausing to bend and hold herself again, before managing to slip off her socks. “Please help me with the straps.” Matilda begged. “Why?” Miss Honey asked, before realization dawned on her. She gave Matilda a sympathetic smile. “No, sweetie. You need to keep them on.” She gave her head a gentle pat. “Wha-” Matilda choked out as she sobbed. “No, please no!” She tried to undue the strap herself, but her arm was now even worse than before. “I can’t!” “Sweetie, it’s okay, I promise. Just get it over with.” Matilda sobbed. “No, I’ll go back in line. I can make it!” “Shh. Honey, you already didn’t make it.” The woman said, but her voice was gentle and non chastising. She knelt down until she was eye level with her. “There’s no point in fighting the inevitable any longer.” “I- I-’m so sorry.” Matilda cried. Another, larger streak had begun to form but then stopped. “Matilda, really it’s okay. You’ll feel better if you just get it over with. I promise. I love you, and a pair of wet pants, or sheets isn’t going to change that.” Matilda stood there stunned. It had taken her so off guard that she let go of herself and stood still, staring at Miss Honey as if seeing her for the first time. Had she just heard what she thought she did? The distraction had been enough. Matilda whimpered and turned towards the hedge as she felt her bladder decide enough was enough. She leaned her head against the hedge and began to bawl as warm liquid began to freely flow down her legs, soaking the faux denim and coming out at the ankles, leaving a patch of damp grass at her feet. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Miss Honey whispered gently, rubbing Matilda’s back. “That’s it. It’s all over now.” She gently spun the girl around to face her. She ran the back of her hand along the girls damp cheeks. There was still a look of uncertainty and shock in her eyes. “Talk to me, Matilda.” “Were you just saying that?” Matilda asked, almost a whisper. “Saying what?” Miss Honey asked, but the young girl didn’t respond. She was at a complete loss, until a sad thought crossed her mind. “Matilda,” Miss Honey whispered. She felt something large and thick catch in her throat. “Has anyone ever told you they loved you before?” Matilda stood still for a moment before slowly shaking her head no. Miss Honey sighed sadly before kneeling down and wrapping her arms around the trembling girl and rocked her back and forth. “I love you, Matilda.” “No, Miss Honey, you’ll get all wet.” Matilda said, but made no move to push her away. “I don’t care.” “Miss Honey.” “Yes?” “...I love you too.” ……………………………………………………………………………….. When the two stood up and made their way back to the center of the maze, they noticed the line for the Porta Potty had not changed at all. Was Miss Trunchbull still in there? Matilda wondered. She had an idea, a terrible, but wonderful idea. She doubted she could pull it off, but the fluttering anticipation in her chest told her Maybe. Despite her current ordeal, she hadn’t felt this happy and at peace… ever. If she could smash a wall, and knock over shelving… what if? “Is that lady still in there? The big one?” Matilda asked. A woman and daughter pair turned around and took in the state Matilda’s clothes. The woman gave her a look of sympathy before nodding her head. It was all she needed to know. “There’s a fountain by the exit.” The woman called out after her. “Miss Honey, could I use my powers for evil, just this once?” She motioned something with her finger and Miss Honey knitted her eye-brows together. It took her a minute to respond, as being a good role model and poetic karma fought for dominance. “You could try, I mean it’s not like you could...right?” Miss Honey smiled for a second. “I feel like I could do anything right now.” Matilda whispered. She stared at the porta-potty. It had worked with the glass. She threw her whole mind into it. She summoned every emotion she had felt today. Embarrassment, shame, and lastly, a new one she had never felt before. Love. Ever so slowly she could see the blue box begin to rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. “KNOCK IT OFF YOU LITTLE MAGGOTS!” Bellowed an angry voice from inside. Back and forth. Back and forth. “I MEAN IT, IF I FIND WHOSE DOING THAT I’M GONNA MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!” The rocking began to pick up momentum. People in line began to back up. Back and forth. Back and forth. Finally with one last mental push, the porta potty tipped over. “Huh, sure is windy today.” Miss Honey said casually as they turned their backs and began the walk back home. “Right, Miss Honey, It just seems to come out of nowhere.” Matilda said with a grin. “You know you don’t have to keep calling me, Miss Honey.” Matilda took her hand in her hers. “What do you want to be called?” Jennifer thought about it for a moment. “When you’re ready, how about mom?” Matilda smiled. “Okay, mom.”

Author notes: For some, this story will be easily recognized and it is my reboot of another story of mine. I am doing this because I have improved my writing and those have a lot of holes. It was written badly. It was one of my first stories, so many stories will go through this. Messages: Please read, criticize, speak. My English is not my native language, but I am learning. Do you have any tips on how to improve? There are three chapters for now. The rest will be here soon. Intro: A complex story of crime and investigation. A very popular girl is kidnapped to be a baby. Chapter 1: The Abduction It was a quiet evening in southern Maine, and the fresh air of the park seemed to invite people to enjoy the day. Amelia, a petite girl with blond hair and a radiant smile, was jogging through the park as part of her exercise routine. She wore a blue T-shirt with the word "CAL" in bold letters—a reference to the California Golden Bears—and gray leggings that clung to her athletic body. During a brief pause, she took her phone out of her pocket and took a selfie with the trees in the background at dusk. When she posted the photo on social media, she used the hashtag #FreeLife. It was as common a gesture for Amelia as breathing. With over a hundred thousand followers, her popularity was undeniable. After posting the photo, she picked up her water bottle and took a few sips, feeling the hydration revitalize her tired muscles. Not far away, a woman with brown hair and an attentive gaze was sitting on a bench, discreetly observing Amélia. When the young woman finished drinking and began to stretch, the woman stood up and walked towards her. As soon as the woman approached, she pretended to trip and deliberately bumped into Amélia, causing the girl to drop the water bottle on herself. "Sorry! Geez, it seems like I spilled water on you," the woman said, her voice full of forced friendliness. Amélia tried to divert the situation with a polite smile. "Don't worry, it's nothing serious." But the woman insisted, a strange glint in her eyes. "Oh, no! Let's go to the bathroom. You need to clean up." Before Amelia could refuse, the woman grabbed her hand firmly. The unexpected strength surprised Amelia, who, even though uncomfortable, reluctantly followed. As they walked, she began to notice something strange. The bathroom was in the opposite direction from where they were going. "Ma'am, I think we're going the wrong way," Amelia said, her voice full of hesitation. The woman didn't respond. The park was almost empty, and the pressure of the woman's hand increased. Before Amelia could react, the woman took a cloth from her pocket and pressed it against the young woman's mouth and nose. A strong chemical smell invaded her nostrils. Amelia tried to struggle, but her vision began to blur and her muscles lost strength. The last words she heard before she passed out were whispered in the woman's sweet, sinister tones. "Sleep well, baby. You'll be home soon..." When Amelia's consciousness faded, the woman arranged the young girl's limp body in her arms as if she were a child. She passed a few people in the park, but her calm and confident appearance made no one suspect anything. To others, she just looked like a mother carrying her sleeping daughter. The woman walked over to a black SUV parked near the park entrance. When she opened the back door, she revealed a child's car seat, something common for those with small children. Without rushing, she positioned Amelia in the seat, fastened the seatbelt and, in a gesture that bordered on the absurd, put a pacifier in the unconscious girl's mouth. With everything ready, she got in the car and drove off, leaving the peaceful park behind and plunging into the darkness of the road. More than a thousand miles away, in Washington, D.C., a young man lay in bed, enjoying a rare moment of rest. His cell phone rang, and he answered it promptly. "Special Agent Paul speaking," he said in a professional voice. On the other end of the line, an authoritative female voice answered. "We have a kidnapping in Maine." Paul sat up quickly, feeling adrenaline rush through his veins. He recognized his boss's voice immediately. A kidnapping? In Maine? His rest was over. The mission was just beginning. Chapter 2: Agent Paul Levesque Paul Levesque was awake early that morning. The smell of golden pancakes, fried eggs, and crispy bacon mingled with the strong aroma of coffee he was brewing in his French press. Wearing a University of Miami T-shirt, Paul had an air of confidence and command that was almost tangible. As he piled the pancakes onto his plate, he cradled the phone against his shoulder and spoke. "Do I really need to be a team player?" He sighed as he paced the kitchen, balancing his coffee cup in one hand. On the other end of the line, a firm but friendly voice answered. "Yes, you do. They want you closer to the area. Not just for the results, but to help the newbies. And in addition to the coffee, get some aspirin. I guess you had a long night." Paul paused for a moment, his mind briefly returning to a flashback of the previous night: a poker table, scattered chips, and laughter. He remembered his opponents' thinly veiled attempts at cheating and the smile he'd given them when he'd turned over the winning cards. "These guys had their cards marked," he said with a sarcastic smile. "They tried to fool me, but I took a lot of money from them." He took a sip of coffee and concluded, "But I'm on my way now." The NCIS office was a mix of modern efficiency and tradition. State-of-the-art computers lined neat desks, while whiteboards covered in notes and photos illustrated ongoing cases. A glass bulletin board displayed a world map with pins marking relevant locations. Three agents were already at their posts. Lewis Bishop, an elegant man with impeccably combed hair, looked at his watch and muttered: "Will Casper show up today?" Cassie Evans, a young woman with straight red hair tied in a tight bun, looked up from her computer and answered without taking her eyes off the screen. "The way they called us yesterday, it's very likely he'll show up." Lewis smiled sarcastically. "Okay, Oracle Cassie, what else can you tell us?" Cassie, unfazed, answered, "Same as you, Lewis." Before Lewis could reply, Tony Shepar, a young African-American with a serious expression, intervened. "If Casper doesn't show up, the sharks up there will swallow him." Lewis chuckled, "Tonny, tell me the whole story." Before Tonny could speak, the elevator doors opened and Paul Levesque walked into the office. His presence was immediately noticeable. He set his things down on his desk and, without wasting any time, asked, "Have we had any ransom demands, Cassie?" Cassie raised her eyebrows. "No. No sign of any." Lewis leaned forward, smiling curiously. "First, how do you know our names? And second, what ransom demands?" Paul took a sip of coffee and looked calmly at the three agents. His sharp mind had already noted the details on the plaques on their desks. He answered matter-of-factly, "First: MI6 agent and cybercrime expert, Cassie Evans." He paused and turned to Tonny. "Special Agent Tonny Shepar, former SEAL and Sniper." Finally, he looked at Lewis. "Senior Agent Lewis Bishop, former New York City police officer and one of the best interrogators in NCIS." The three of them were silent for a moment, impressed by Paul's accuracy. He continued, "And the second question: who would kidnap a young girl in Maine?" As he walked up the stairs toward the conference room, Paul was already mentally mapping out his plan for handling the case. The mystery was just beginning.. At the agency, Paul stands in front of Monica's office, where a sign on the door reads "Boss." He enters the office, noticing Monica, a tall, black woman with braided hair and an infectious smile. Paul says: "What an interesting team, but I only work alone, so I won't work." Monica responds with a teasing smile: "Do you still want me to call you immature?" She laughs, but her tone quickly turns serious. "This case is important, and you're going to work as a team." Paul replies, "You know what happened last time." The two stare at each other, and the silence is heavy, filled with memories. Monica says firmly, "You know what? That wasn't your fault, and everyone knows it." Paul has a flashback. Sounds of gunshots and an explosion echo in his mind, but he changes the subject, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Who is this girl?" Paul asks, gesturing to the folder on the table. Monica opens the folder and shows a photo of Benson. "Benson is a famous influencer, a spokesperson for several brands, and the daughter of an important politician. She also has several connections with the attorney general." Paul looks at the file carefully. Benson's father is a member of the chamber, and she is the granddaughter of a famous general. He asks, "Did we get a ransom demand?" Monica shakes her head. Paul thinks to himself: It doesn't look like a kidnapping for money, but for something else. He reads from the file that Benson's last post was in the park. We have a beginning, he concludes mentally. Paul leaves the room and goes downstairs, lost in thought. It looks like I'm going to work as a team. Ever since that time... I can't think about that now. I need to focus on the girl. Arriving at the place where the other agents were gathered, Paul declares: "Guys, let's go. I'm going to work with you." Everyone looks at each other, surprised. The idea of Paul working as a team seemed unlikely, but there he was. "What did you find on the girl's social media?" he asks. Cassie answers: "Not much. Meteoric success. A little money here, another there, and boom, she's a hit. Success. You can see it in the first ten posts: everything is self-promoted. Plus, her schedule is practically all posted on social media." Paul reflects on how this makes life easier for the kidnappers, allowing them to know exactly what Benson's doing. Lewis adds: "The family is powerful. Her father is running for governor of Washington state. I've already called him to talk." Tonny adds, "I've warned the parents not to talk to the media yet. I'm holding the Amber Alert until we have more information." Paul agrees. If he's a psychopath, he'll want to see the media coverage. Holding back information might lead him to make a mistake, like stopping at a gas station or other visible location. Finally, Paul starts delegating tasks. "Tonny and Cassie, go to the kidnapping scene. Lewis and I will talk to the parents." Everyone starts moving with determination. For the first time, Paul feels like giving orders as a team isn't so bad. Chapter 3: Maniac At the small local gas station, a news program on a worn-out TV was showing a peculiar story. The newscaster was reporting, with a cynical tone, about people running naked through the streets after leaving a fruit stand, resulting in an unexpected increase in local revenue. A tall woman with neat brown hair and striking features watched for a moment as she waited at the register. In her hands was a bottle of fresh milk. At the register, a baby in a carrier caught the woman's attention. With a shallow smile, she played with the child, babbling sweet nothings that made the child laugh out loud. The baby's mother smiled kindly, but quickly turned her attention back to the line. The attendant announced the price: "One dollar." The woman handed over the bill, took the milk, and walked gracefully to her car. Inside the vehicle, a regular black SUV, Amelia remained in the child seat, still unconscious. The woman opened the back door and sat next to Amelia, holding the bottle of milk she had just bought. With practiced movements, she prepared a bottle, adding a few drops of sleeping pill before mixing the liquid. Holding the bottle, she murmured with a sadistic expression: "My baby can't wake up now. It would be so perfect if you had bedwetting, you'd come home already wet...". The woman held Amelia by the back of the neck, tilted her head gently and force-fed her the bottle. Amelia, still numb, swallowed the liquid without resistance. With the radio tuned to KIIS-FM 102.7, the woman continued on her way. Pop music filled the silence as the car glided along increasingly deserted roads. Approximately 1h30 later, she arrived at a secluded property in Maine. A welcoming-looking yellow house stood amidst dense trees, with a rug at the entrance that read "Mrs. Roberts' House." The woman got out of the car, picked up Amelia and carried her inside. The interior of the house, with its simple and cheerful decorations, contrasted with the surroundings. She climbed a narrow staircase and entered a room decorated like a nursery, but with a frightening aura. The walls were painted in pastel colors, with drawings of teddy bears and stars. The crib was made of light, polished wood, with high bars and soft padding. In the corner, there was a nursing chair, next to a small table with diapers, ointments and an electronic surveillance machine. Obsessively organized toys were arranged on shelves. Despite the childish environment, there was something oppressive and uncomfortable in the air. The woman laid Amelia in the crib and adjusted the bars so that she could not escape. As she did so, she spoke in an almost maternal tone, but with a glint of madness in her eyes: "Poor child, your parents want to take you away from me. Washington? How crazy! You are mine now. If you are a good baby, you will have a long life with me here. But if you disobey... it will be tragic." Amélia began to regain consciousness. Her vision was blurred, her mind confused. When she tried to move, she realized that she was surrounded by bars. She stood up unsteadily, touched the wooden material and realized that she was in a crib. . "It can't be...", she thought, trying to understand how she had ended up there. She looked around, observing the details of the room: the painted teddy bears seemed to be staring straight at her; the mobile hanging over the crib turned slowly, producing a sinister melody. Amélia tried to climb the bars, but she didn't have enough strength. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she fell back onto the mattress with a dull thud. The door slowly opened, revealing the figure of the woman, who wore a smile of satisfaction. "Look at the baby trying to escape," she said mockingly. Amélia stared at her, trying to sound firm: "I'm not a baby! Who are you?" The woman gave a wicked smile and replied, "Of course it's a baby. And you can call me Mommy Lindy." Amelia opened her mouth to protest, but Lindy was quicker, placing a pacifier in her mouth. "Shhh, babies don't talk to their mommy like that. Now, let's see how you're doing..." Lindy lifted Amelia easily, holding her with one hand as she tugged at the back of Amelia's sweatpants. "No poop..." she commented casually. Then she checked the front. "No pee either. Too bad! Don't you know holding it in is bad for your health? But we'll fix that." Lindy's voice was sweet, but her words were laden with sinister intent. With ease, she placed Amelia on the changing table next to the crib, holding her steady as she said, "First, let's feed you. A baby needs to be strong to play!" Amelia felt helpless, trying to understand the woman's insanity and frantically thinking about how to escape this nightmare. Meanwhile, Lindy seemed to savor every moment, controlling the situation with a frightening calm.

Author's Note (Read before you read): This is based off of a roleplay between @Nappy_Queen and myself that can be found in the role play section of the forum. I have edited it and updated the descriptions in it to flow well and offer a more detailed view of the story than our rp offers. Please let us know what you think and where you want to see it go. Chapter 1: Janet got home from another day at the office. She worked part time as a secretary in her husband’s company Designated Adventures, a leading company in technology and science. Today her coworker, a young woman in her early twenties, announced she was pregnant. While Janet was happy for the young woman, she was jealous as well. At thirty Janet expected by now she would have started a family. She has been married to her husband for five years now and they had dated since high school. So many times they had argued about starting a family. Her husband always argued it wasn’t the right time, he’s just starting his business, they wouldn’t have time for each other, the excuses went on. She was so tired of arguing with her husband for something that she felt should come easy for them. They were financially stable, had a beautiful home, great friends, a family of their own is all that was missing. Over the last few months Janet had begun to see her husband as selfish. His every concern was what he wanted how changes would affect him. He acted like a child only caring about his wants and needs and her feelings be damned. Janet poured herself a glass of Riesling as she began looking over the current and recently finished projects on her laptop. She flipped through the documents item after item noting progress. She was about to turn off her laptop when she saw a new project was almost complete that she was not aware was on the books. From the looks of it, the device was a gun that could change the size of anything. Suddenly, an idea formed in Janet’s mind. If he won’t give me a baby, maybe he can be one” The project was two weeks from completion giving her plenty of time to prepare and get her plan in motion. Jon was riding high, he had a beautiful wife, great friends, and a company that was driving full steam toward a public stock trade debut in a month. He had planned that after the release of a few of his newest inventions one of which was his most secret project, the size ray. It was just completing animal trials and would be ready for human testing in two weeks. The thirty-one year old was the owner and CEO of the company he had started with his best friend. They stood to make a ton of money when the company went public. He had already made millions while it had been private. Jon drove home in his blue 2021 corvette stingray. He loved having the top down letting the wind whip through his hair . He pulled into the driveway of his beautiful suburban home which was subtle for his wealth. He and his wife liked to keep their extravagance to a minimum. In the back seat he had Asian food for his wife, a token for him being a little later than usual. He knew she would be upset that he stayed late in the office again, but he hoped the takeout would smooth things over. He walked into the kitchen and saw her working on her computer, "working late there my cute secretary?" He spoke in a sexy teasing tone as he walked up to her. The tall six foot one man put down the takeout bag which wafted it alluring smells into the room. "I got you take out from that place you like downtown." Jon smiled as he put his arms around her. "What are you working on?" he asked looking at her computer, but the screen had long since went black as she seemed to want to keep that a secret from her husband. Janet had gone through half the bottle of the sweet white wine before Jon got home. She sighed as he said he got food from the place she liked. She didn't even like Chinese food all that much. He liked it, much like everything these days though that didn't seem to matter to him. She decided once more she would try to talk to him. "Just looking over the projects, everything seems to be on time. There are even a few things ahead of schedule.” She paused choosing her next words carefully. “Did you hear Lynnette, in accounting, is expecting? You'll have to find someone to fill her place when she goes on maternity leave." Janet refilled her glass of wine. “It's exciting don't you think her and her husband are both still young figuring things out but they're going for it full steam ahead. It makes me think about you and I. About us starting a family of our own." "Yea, well that is great for them and I’m so happy that they are going to have a kid. I’m giving both of them leave. I’m sure we can find someone to pick up her hard work, but she did say she wanted to work for about five months into her pregnancy." Jon said sitting next to his wife smiling. "Janet, is this about having kids again?" Jon’s demeanor changed to a more serious one. "You’re being very baby crazy Janet, why is that?" Jon asked, eating some sweet and sour chicken. Janet frowned at his comment. Putting down her glass of wine she stared at him. "Baby crazy? Is it so crazy to want to start a family with the man I've been with since I was a teenager? Is it crazy if I expect you to care about the one thing I care about when I've always prioritized you?!" She stepped away from him infuriated. "Do you not realize we are in our thirties now? While you've got all the time in the world to start a family I don't. I'm on a timer and my biological clock is ticking! How is it you can do so much for everyone else but not me? I always support you in everything." She shook her head, grabbing her wine glass, she finished the contents and put the glass in the sink. "I'm going to bed." Janet didn't even look at him as she left the kitchen to shower and change for bed. She was tired, emotionally and physically drained. He put everything into his business, friends, even his employees. Why can't he just learn he should have put more into their relationship, into hearing and supporting her wants as she did his. Janet thought went into their marble bathroom. Janet had tears rolling down her face as she got into the shower. She cried not out of sadness but frustration. Again he cast aside her feelings about starting a family; he even called her crazy?! Well she'd have to show him just what baby crazy looked like then. She took her shower and changed into a purple satin pajama shorts set. After lotioning her body and brushing her hair Janet shook her head looking at the main door to the master bedroom. In all the time it took her to shower and prepare for bed he still couldn't even bother to come talk to her. She sighed and got into bed. Changes were definitely needed around here. Turns Out she'd lay out her plan to make those changes happen. Janet turned out her bedside lamp leaving their room in pitch dark. Jon sat at the kitchen table, he felt so guilty, “shit, that’s how she feels?” He asked himself as he poked at his orange chicken. He wasn’t hungry anymore, he didn’t want to do anything but be with his beautiful wife. He was worried she would be upset for him coming after her, but he stood up and sighed. Jon walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and down the hall toward his and his wife’s bedroom. He slowly opened the door hoping she wouldn’t bite his head off when he opened the door. He braced for the absolute worst. “Janet? Honey?” He asked softly, wary she could be asleep already. He was met with the sound of light snoring from the slightly drunk woman. Jon entered the room before he stood on his wife’s side of the bed looking down at her sleeping. “Honey can we talk?” He whispered at her. It was a Friday night and he was hoping that they would’ve had a nice night drinking wine and beer like they used to a few years ago. He got no reply and he knew that waking his wife up would make things far worse. He just went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into his boxers and t-shirt before he got under the covers next to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and smiled. “Honey I love you, let’s have a kid.” He whispered into her ear. Janet had woken while Jon was moving about the room getting ready for bed. When he whispered that they should have a child she felt happy but also upset. Instead of ignoring him she let out a sigh. "Please, don't just say it to placate me. Then you'll just resent me for it later. I want you to have a child with me because you want to. Because building a family matters to me just as much to you as anything else you've built. Don't just pity me and decide to do it to ease your temporary guilt or as some sort of consolation." Janet loved her husband and wanted to start a family with him more than anything. She'd been in love with him the day they met junior year of high school. Now for him to say let's have a child she knew she should be elated but she felt like it was a sincere gesture but made more to make peace then out of love for her. "Honey, I’m not just trying to placate you. Let's just talk about it. I feel like you're mad at me, don't you like our life together? I promise I’ll be ready to settle down. The company is going public in a few months and we stand to make millions if not billions off of it. That will make our life so comfortable that we can have as many kids as you want." Jon said as he snuggled up to her and felt himself getting turned on by the heat of her body and the smell of her moisturizer. "I will make a baby with you when you feel like it's right." He said as he kissed her shoulder and then her neck. "I love you sweetie. I just want to make our lives comfortable." Jon said even though he knew the company was all set to go public with or without him. He had his best friend on it and he knew he wouldn't screw him. Mason was his best friend since elementary school and they both stood to make tons of money with the public offering. Janet sighed. "I enjoy our life together but I want more. I want to raise a family with you. I want to carry your children and watch our children grow and teach them with you. How much more comfortable does our life need to be? We have a beautiful home, nice cars, our bills are paid, and we have a decent savings. The company goes public within the month. Having more money doesn't make us more prepared for a child than we are now." She moaned softly when he kissed her neck. Thirteen years together he knew just where to kiss her to excite her. "You've given the company of your time and attention for the last nine years. Mason can take care of things for a bit. It's time to put all your energy into us. Into building something here at home." "I will honey, I love you and I want to help raise our child. I just am not sure how I can be ready. You are clearly the more parental parent than I am." He said smiling as he heard her moan when he kissed her just below her ear. Works every time, he thought to himself as he used his hand to slip under her nightgown and massage her breast. He was in the mood and he was going to have sex with his beautiful wife. He knew there was a condom in the top drawer of his night stand but what he didn't know was that Janet had used a pin to poke a few holes in it. He also was not aware that she was off the pill. "Honey, how about we revisit this after we go public? I know it's hard but it's just another month or two. After that I can focus on you, and starting a family together. Then I will also maybe know how to properly raise a kid, that's something you seem to know a lot about." He massaged her nipple, "how about we relax and enjoy each other?" Janet relaxed under his touch as he massaged her breast. She nodded her head. "Mmmm fine one month." She kissed him on the lips as she gently placed a hand to his cheek. "I won't wait even a day longer so you'd better be prepared." She smiled as she slid her other hand into his boxers taking hold of his hard shaft. "Now make love to me." She kissed him as she stroked his shaft up and down slowly. She knew her husband would reach for his condom. Just like she knew he would never think to check it for holes. Janet was done waiting and doing everything on his time. She was off her birth control and currently ovulating. They would start their family tonight whether he knew it or not. Jon grabbed the condom from the drawer in his bedside table not checking for holes he put it on and smiled. “Who’s your daddy?” He asked as he whispered into her ear. Janet smiled for tonight he could be be daddy. Soon enough he'd be calling her mommy and she'd have another baby on the way. Just the thought of the changes to come excited her. Janet was passionate in her lovemaking giving everything to her husband. It would be the last time he had sex for some time so she wanted it to be mind blowing. The sex was passionate, Jon loved having sex with his wife. She was wild and so hot and she loved being filled by him especially when she felt the condom fail to hold back all of the load. Jon didn’t know but she did, soon she would be pregnant and have another baby in diapers. Jon slumped over in bed and fell asleep almost right away. He softly spoke, “I love you my Janney bean.” She cuddled into him as they lay naked. As he drifted off to sleep she smiled and kissed his cheek. "I love you too baby". Two weeks later… Janet smiled as she received a locked briefcase from the labs. One email through her husband's account stating she would be picking up the size ray for him to do testing off-site and it was in her possession. Jon had said they would start a family, but after thirteen years she knew him. He would find excuse after excuse to put off what she wanted. He'd done so multiple times over the years. For the last two weeks she had been getting things ready at home. Jon never inquired or showed interest when she redecorated. She was certain he hoped her home design projects would keep their discussion off her mind. Nothing could be further from the truth. Janet pored over the notes on the ray and its use until she had it memorized. She had redecorated one of the guest bedrooms turning it into a nursery for a baby boy. Now with the ray gun in her possession she had everything in place. As usual Jon worked late. It gave Janet ample time to get everything in place. Jon had been crazy busy at work, he had forgotten about the deal with his wife to start a family. His size ray was about to start human trials as they had successfully shrunk and regrown lab rats. They also had doubled the rat in size safely giving him confidence that it would work well. He and Mason were also going to use the size ray's success to announce their public stock options. They were also getting ready with age freezing serum that was about to enter human trials too. Together they were going to make billions of dollars. With a successful day behind Jon drove home in his red mustang parking it in the garage. He went right to the kitchen to prepare dinner when he saw the bottle of pink perfume he had bought Janet for her birthday with a note next to it. Hey Handsome, you've been working hard. Get undressed and come to the guest room across the hall from our bedroom. Tonight I'm going to take care of you. He smiled as he looked down at the note. He felt himself getting turned on under his pants. Oh Janet, I love you, He thought to himself as he put down the perfume and started to walk back to the front hall before he went up the stairs to their room. He walked into his closet and threw his clothes on the ground and grabbed a condom. So, she has been working on a sex room, my wife has a wild side. He thought to himself as he walked across the hallway completely nude. He flung open the door and said, "daddy's home baby." Then he paused looking around the room. It was not what he expected at all, it was a baby's room. It seemed to be made for a baby boy, but he also saw some girl things sprinkled about. There was a crib with a mobile of trains swinging around in a circle. There was a changing table with pampers cruisers diapers packs that has Sesame Street prints. There were toys on the floor and the walls were pictures of trains, he loved trains. Next to the changing table holding a diaper and his size gun was Janet and she seemed to look a little taller than her normal five foot frame too. "Honey? What is this?" He asked his mouth going dry as little beads of sweat formed on his neck. He also felt his member begin to harden a little seeing his taller wife. Rather than give him time to run or ask questions she pulled the trigger. A bright ray pf light emitted from the gun and flew across the room at Jon. The ray hit Jon as he looked shocked and confused asking about the nursery. Before her eyes Jon began to shrink inch by inch. Her once six foot tall husband shrunk down to her height. Then the height of the crib. Still she kept the ray trained on him. Down he went getting smaller and smaller. Finally she released the trigger and turned off the ray gun. There before her eyes naked was her husband the size of an infant. Janet smiled as she walked over to Jon and picked him up. Jon was in shock, he had not moved the entire time she was shrinking him and he forgot that she seemed taller than before. He had watched as she and the world around him grew bigger and bigger until he was maybe two feet tall, maybe smaller. He was scared. He could now be manhandled by his nieces and nephews and they weren't even out of pull-ups. He had no clue but when Janet walked over and picked him up he almost peed himself. "It's okay baby mommies got you. This is your new room mommy worked very hard on." She carried him to the changing table. Moving the shrink ray to one of the drawers she laid him on the changing table fastening the safety belt over his chest. Jon’s shock wore off when the restraining buckle on the changing table was fastened. His arms were pinned to his sides which was exactly what Janet wanted. . "Now let's get you changed and ready for dinner." Janet raised Jon's legs and he'd feel the cool baby wipes as she wiped his bottom and little pee pee. Janet hummed as she set about getting Jon into his first diaper. "My new room? Mommy? What are you talking about? Janet Megan Smith you change me back right now!" He yelled using her maiden name. He was red with embarrassment and anger and jumped as the first cold wipe hit his penis which seemed to be smaller than normal even given his smaller size. He looked down as his wife's massive hands moved so easily over his body wiping it down. He then watched as a giant razor was used to clean his hair off before she cooed and got a diaper. The diaper looked huge to him and on the front of it was a smiling Elmo that seemed to be mocking him as she held it close to his face. "I’m not wearing a diaper Janet. I am your husband not a baby!" Jon said as he looked into the eyes of Elmo and then up at his giant wife who seemed to take up the entire space above the changing table. She looked like a heavenly angel from this angle. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and her blue eyes were soft but determined. Despite her looks he was scared of her even with her light smile he was still shrunk being put in a pampers diaper on a giant changing table. Janet couldn't help but chuckle add he fussed on the changing table. She couldn't take him seriously even calling hey by her full maiden name. "My aren't you cranky my little prince. I think sometime is ready for din din and off to bed." Janet laid the diaper under his bottom and sprinkled his bottom with baby powder she gently rubbed it into his skin. Lowering his legs Jon would feel the padding of the diaper under his bum as she powdered his crotch. Satisfied he was well powdered she pulled the diaper up between her fussy babies legs and fastened the tapes closed around him. "There we go isn't that better pumpkin?" The diaper was soft and comforting as it was wrapped up covering his smaller penis. He had watched the slightly hard penis disappear behind Elmo's smiling face. Jon continued to squirm and fuss on the changing table. Janet looked at him, her tone was gentle but firm. "Now Jon that's quite enough of that. If you continue all this fussing mommy will give you a warm bottom so you have a reason to be so fussy". He instantly stopped squirming at her threat. He looked up at her as she unbuckled him from the changing table. "Janet, you have to stop this now, please I am your husband not a baby who needs to have a pampers diaper." He said pointing to the diaper. Janet took out a blue onesie with a firetruck on it after getting his head through she released the strap so she could get his arms in and pull the onesie down snapping it closed at his crotch, the pamper crinkling in response. Janet picked Jon up and cradled him in her arms unhappy with the firetruck as he preferred a train. He hoped his wife didn't see his reaction as she picked him up. "Is my little prince ready for dinner?" She cooed to him as she carried him out of the nursery toward the kitchen. "I ate coming home," he lied as she looked at him holding him close to her ample breasts. He was again looking up at her gentle face feeling himself getting hard in the diaper as she walked toward the kitchen. Janet sighed as she got to the kitchen and set Jon into a blue and red highchair. "It's not good to lie to mommy. You and I both know you came straight home from work." Janet took a white bib with a teddy bear on it from the counter drawer and fastened it around his neck. He blushed as he was caught in the lie, it was like she was a mom and he was a kid who had been caught. He could not believe he didn’t even notice the high chair when he walked in from the garage. He shook his head and spoke. "Sweetie is this because I didn't want to give you a baby? I will be happy to put one in you right now please just make me big again. I can't be seen like this!" He said as he moved around in the highchair trying to escape. He watched his giant wife move around the kitchen. She took out two jars of Gerber baby food and emptied them into a plastic bowl and warmed it in the microwave. Jon’s mouth dropped open as she did this. He couldn’t believe this was real. He felt himself feel sick as she warmed them looking over at him. To make things worse he felt his bladder ask to be released. When the food was at the right temperature she sat down in a chair in front of him stirring the food. He watched her as she approached sitting in a chair and was still taller than him in the high chair sitting down. "I know you're feeling very confused right now so mommy will talk and you will be a good baby, eat your food, and listen okay?" “Talk? Janet, let’s talk when I am bigger and not in a dia..” he tried to finish his sentence when the first scoop of baby mush was put into his mouth by his wife/mommy. It tasted like the food after he had chewed it chicken, carrots, and peas all in one scoop with the plastic blue spoon with a steam engine on it. He wanted to close his mouth but she just kept shoving food in. He tried to keep up but it started to dribble down his chin onto the teddy bib. "For a long time you have been putting all your focus into the company. So much so that you neglected to put any of your attention here at home unless it directly affected your concerns." Janet sighed and continued feeding him the baby food. "For a long time I went along with everything putting my wants aside. You kept taking what I give you for granted. You felt you could make all the decisions for our future and I should be happy and go along. In a relationship, a healthy relationship, the wants and needs of both people are taken into account. Both people plan their future together. For all your smarts you couldn't seem to work that bit out hmm?" She was talking about how he wasn’t listening to her and how he was not being a good husband. She had a point, but shrinking him and making him wear diapers was too far. Therapy would have seemed more logical in his mind. “I did know that, I thought you liked it when I took control.” He tried to respond to her last sentence but it sounded like it was garbled from all the food in his mouth. She probably had understood him but he looked silly for sure. He looked up at his wife as he swallowed then was about to repeat himself when he felt his bladder as again. "Okay, Janet lets talk about this later. I need to pee." He said looking at her expecting her to react or let him out. Janet chuckled, he looked like quite the messy baby. He had food on his bib dribbling from his mouth. "Yes, you have your diaper on sweetie so you can go pee pee while you finish your dinner." She cooed to him as she fed him another mouthful of the baby food. "There is a difference between taking control, making things happen for both parties to be happy, and taking control to ensure that your specific wants and needs are met and your partner just having to go with it." She smiled as he squirmed in the highchair fighting his bladder. "I tried many times to talk to you but you just cast my concerns aside. Then two weeks ago you had the audacity to call me baby crazy," She chuckled. "That's when I realized you weren't going to learn. Sure you said we'd start a family but you didn't mean it. I bet you haven't given it a single thought since that night right? You said you aren't ready to be a dad. So now instead you can be a brother." She smiled placing a hand to her flat belly. "You see, I took your feelings into consideration. I wanted to start a family you don't want to be a dad so I'll raise our family and you can be a good sibling instead of a daddy." Her last words hit like a pile of bricks. Forget the diaper, forget the mushy food in his mouth; his wife was pregnant and he was going to have to be the brother instead of dad. He looked up at her and felt tears forming in his eyes. He was now struggling against his bladder and his eyes. Jon lost the battle against both. A hissing sound was heard as she let her final words hang in the air. She knew what was happening in his mind and in his pamper. The diaper under his onesie started to get warm as his penis released its full bladder. Tears rolled down his eyes as she used the words he used to weasel out of having a kid against him. There he was crying in a wet pamper in a high chair with baby food in his mouth and down his chin. He felt helpless and that was exactly what Janet wanted. "But mommy... I want to be a daddy not a baby brother." He said sniffling as the tears kept flowing as did the pee. She used his bib to wipe his face clear of baby food. "Goodness your fussy tonight. My baby boy needs milk and beddy bye." Taking the dirty bib off him Janet picked up her crying baby. "You’re much too little to be a daddy pumpkin. Mommy wants you to be a good baby brother and maybe when you're grown up you can be a daddy". She carried him to the nursery and laid a baby blanket on the changing table. Janet made quick work of changing Jon's wet diaper and getting him powdered and into a dry one. His diaper changed, Janet used the baby blanket he was on to swaddle him. She held him in her arms as she sat in the rocking chair. "Hush now baby time for milk". He began to calm down as she sat down in the rocking chair. "Janet I am sorry please let me be the daddy to my kid, please I am sorry I learned my lesson." He said as he watched his wife pull out her breasts which were dripping with none other than breast milk. Janet had been taking another invention of the company, a supplement to encourage milk production in the breast for wet nurses. She opened her top and unclipped the cup of her nursing bra. Jon’s mouth went dry and hung open as she smiled. He had always been a boob man even if her ass was fine her breasts were amazing not to mention that now they had grown because of the milk production. Jon let the massive nipple go in his mouth. Instantly, milk started to flow and to not drown he had to swallow the sweet milk that tasted amazing. It was more fatty than he imagined but it tasted so good. Janet smiled gently rocking as her baby husband nursed from her. He seemed to settle down almost immediately when presented with her full milky breast. He kept drinking but in the middle Janet popped him off her left boob and to her right where he kept drinking. He felt his belly fill and he got a small gut from it. He felt safe and warm and had calmed down. He looked up at her as he unlatched full. "Honey, I am sorry." He said as milk dribbled out of his mouth. He had an erection in his diaper which was hidden by the diaper and the blanket. He felt lethargic like one feels after eating too much turkey at thanksgiving dinner. He let out a small burp and a yawn. He tried to think straight and tried to say something to his wife but it all came out as what Janet could best describe as a toddler's ramblings or a drunk man's slurred speech. There was something in there about him wanting to be a daddy and him being a grown up. He didn't say any bad words but he was not happy about being small. That was obvious. At the end of his rant as Janet was putting back in her bra he felt himself get another small boner in the diaper. He also said something that surprised Janet, her shrunken baby husband said something about his pampers being comfy. He looked up at her and smiled. Janet smiled back at him, she could tell he was in a losing battle wanting to talk but being full and warm making him sleepy. Janet was surprised when Jon stated his diaper was comfy. She smiled kissing his forehead as she lay him in his crib snugly wrapped in the soft warm baby blanket. To Janet it seemed maybe this transition wouldn't be so hard for him after all. Jon wanted to fight, he wanted to stop his wife from stripping away everything, but he just simply couldn’t. The crib’s mattress felt like it was made out of memory foam. Janet turned on the train mobile above his crib which played a soft lullaby as the plush steam trains rotated above him. As the trains started to rotate above him he drifted off to sleep like a baby. He didn’t even hear her turn on the baby monitor and night light before turning off the lights to the nursery. "Goodnight baby boy sweet dreams". Janet closed the nursery door and hummed as she went to her bedroom to relax for the evening. Janet could hardly believe how well everything went. She picked up her iPhone and called Mason. "Everything went as expected. Effective tomorrow you will be the face of the company. You were right about the breast feeding he settled down quickly when I left him to nurse and went right to sleep". She laughed pleased with how everything was going. "I'll wait a few days, let him adjust, then we'll come by the office so you and I can iron out the finer details." She ended the call and ran herself a hot bath relaxing thinking about the wonderful future she had before her. -End of Chapter 1

Author's Note Hi! I'm Nicky, and I'm thrilled to join the Daily Diapers Community. Writing has been a passion of mine for many years, and over time, I've created numerous drafts and story ideas on ABDL that I've kept to myself—until now. I finally gathered the courage to share something, and I truly hope you enjoy it. I'm looking forward to connecting with fellow ABDL here. 😊 ____________________________________________________________________________ The Web of Lies is a psychological thriller about trust, manipulation, and the slow unraveling of a seemingly perfect life. Alan, a confident and successful man in his 40s, begins to notice strange things happening—small accidents, unexpected loss of control, and concerns raised by his wife, Lisa, about his health. At first, they seem like minor worries, but they slowly grow into a pattern that makes Alan question himself and his ability to stay dry. The story explores how care can become control and how easy it is to doubt your own reality when someone you love plants those doubts. This is a story about the power of suggestion and how even the strongest minds can be tested when trust is twisted. It’s a gripping tale that will keep readers guessing at every turn. Enjoy! 🙃 P.S Comments are much appreciated! ____________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 1: The Waiting Room Alan sat on a stiff leather chair in the pristine waiting room of Dr. Hargrove’s office. The walls were painted a muted, calming gray, adorned with abstract art that didn’t quite command attention. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the silence, occasionally interrupted by the muted voices of the receptionist on the phone or the shuffle of a patient’s feet down the hallway. Across the room, a small fountain gurgled softly, its soothing sound doing little to ease Alan’s tension. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, each second dragging on longer than the last. Alan glanced at his watch, its familiar face offering no comfort, and then at the closed door leading to the doctor’s office. His knee bounced anxiously, a nervous rhythm that betrayed the calm façade he tried to maintain. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he thought. This wasn’t his life. His world revolved around work deadlines, weekend barbecues, and the occasional round of golf. He was the guy everyone called when they needed a laugh or a drinking buddy, not the one sitting outside a doctor’s office, waiting to hear about someone else’s medical troubles. Yet here he was, summoned by Lisa’s concerned tone and Alan’s unspoken distress. Alan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as his gaze wandered over the room. He noticed the small details now, the way his mind always did when he was trying to distract himself: the slight scuff on the baseboard near the door, the stack of outdated magazines on the low glass coffee table, the faint smell of antiseptic that lingered beneath the air conditioning. He let his eyes close for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. How did it come to this? Alan, his best friend, had always been the confident one—the guy who seemed to have everything together. Yet over the past two months, something had shifted. Alan couldn’t pinpoint when it started, but looking back, the signs were there. One memory led to another, each connected like a breadcrumb trail. And it all started two months ago, on that seemingly perfect morning. *Flashback* The day had started peacefully. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of their modern kitchen, illuminating the marble countertops and the gleaming stainless-steel appliances. Alan sat at the breakfast table, his coffee steaming beside him as he scrolled through his phone. His focus was split between work emails and the calendar notification reminding him of his packed schedule. It was the kind of morning that felt routine, unremarkable—until Lisa called his name. “Alan,” her voice came from the laundry room, gentle but carrying an edge of something he couldn’t quite place. He barely looked up. “Yeah?” “Can you come here for a second?” she asked, her tone shifting slightly—soft, yet insistent. Alan sighed, setting his phone down as he stood. He walked to the laundry room, where Lisa stood by the counter, her blonde hair neatly tied back, the faint scent of her citrus shampoo filling the air. She was holding something in her hand, her fingers pinching the edges delicately, like it might fall apart. “These were in the laundry,” she said, lifting a pair of his white briefs for him to see. Alan froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing. “What about them?” Lisa hesitated, her expression a careful mix of concern and discomfort. She tilted the briefs toward him. “There’s… a stain.” Alan moved closer, his heart skipping a beat as he saw what she was pointing to. A faint yellowish blotch marred the otherwise pristine fabric, spreading in the center like an unwelcome accusation. His face flushed. “That can’t be mine.” Lisa tilted her head slightly, her soft blue eyes locking onto his. “Alan, it was in your side of the hamper.” “Well, I didn’t do that,” he snapped, snatching the briefs from her hand and holding them up as though examining them closer might make the stain disappear. “It’s probably detergent or something. Maybe it didn’t rinse properly.” Lisa’s expression didn’t change. If anything, her concern seemed to deepen. “Maybe,” she said slowly, her tone calm and measured. “But it doesn’t look like detergent to me.” Alan tossed the briefs onto the counter, feeling his frustration mount. “I would know if something like that happened, Lisa. This is ridiculous.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch light but steady. “Alan, I know this is uncomfortable to talk about, but things like this happen sometimes. Especially if you’ve been under stress.” “I’m not under stress,” he said sharply, pulling his arm away. “I don’t have—whatever it is you’re implying.” Lisa blinked, stepping back slightly as though his reaction had startled her. “I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying, if something’s going on, it’s better to catch it early. That’s all.” Alan stared at her, his mind racing. Was she serious? Did she actually think…? He shook his head, grabbing the briefs again and tossing them into the laundry basket. “There’s nothing going on. It’s just a stain, okay? End of story.” Lisa nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice almost apologetic. “I just don’t want you to feel embarrassed if it happens again.” “It’s not going to happen again because it didn’t happen in the first place,” Alan muttered, storming out of the laundry room and back to the kitchen. As he sat down at the table, Alan’s thoughts churned. He picked up his coffee but didn’t drink it, staring instead at the swirling steam. Lisa’s voice echoed in his mind. Stress. Things like this happen sometimes. It didn’t make sense. He was healthy, active. Sure, work was demanding, but it wasn’t like he was losing sleep over it. Wasn’t he? He shook his head, trying to push the thought away. Lisa was probably just overreacting. She worked in healthcare, after all. Nurses were trained to see problems even where there weren’t any, always looking for signs of trouble. That’s all this was, he told himself—Lisa being overly cautious. Nothing more. Lisa watched him from the doorway, her arms folded loosely across her chest. Her face betrayed no emotion, but inside, she was already thinking ahead. The first step was always the most delicate, but it had gone exactly as she’d hoped. A little stain, a little concern, just enough to make him doubt himself. She could tell by the way he stormed out that she’d struck a nerve. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she turned back to the laundry, picking up the briefs again and tossing them into the wash. It wasn’t about the stain itself—it never was. It was about planting the seed, a tiny whisper in his mind that something might be wrong. All she had to do now was water it. *End of Flashback* Alan leaned forward in his seat in the waiting room, staring at the floor tiles as memories rolled through his mind like a film on loop. His knee bounced restlessly, a steady rhythm that betrayed the calm he tried to project. His hand drifted to the edge of the chair, gripping it tightly as he recalled the golf course incident—an otherwise normal day that had spiraled into something else entirely. *Flashback* The sun was warm on his back, the breeze cool and refreshing as it rustled through the trees lining the course. Alan had always loved golfing with Poll. It was one of the few places where he could unwind, leave behind the endless emails and meetings that occupied his weekdays, and simply exist. That day had been no different—or at least, it hadn’t started out that way. “Two strokes ahead already?” Poll said, shaking his head as he set down his club. “You’re showing off, man. Stop making me look bad.” Alan laughed, adjusting his cap as they walked to the next hole. “Maybe you need to practice more instead of blaming me.” Poll groaned theatrically, grabbing his iced tea from the cart and taking a long sip. “Practice? That’s for people who don’t have natural talent.” Alan smirked, lining up his shot. He took a deep breath, grounding himself in the rhythm of the game, and swung. The satisfying crack of the ball echoed, and Poll let out an exaggerated whistle as it soared across the course, landing near the green. “Show-off,” Poll muttered, grinning. “You’re lucky I’m such a good sport.” “Just admit I’m better,” Alan shot back, leaning on his club. The banter continued as they finished the first nine holes and parked the cart near the clubhouse for a quick break. They found a small outdoor table with a view of the course, and Alan stretched his legs, letting the breeze cool him down. Poll was in high spirits, gesturing wildly as he recounted a story about a disastrous flight he’d been on. “So, I’m sitting there,” Poll said, waving his iced tea for emphasis, “and the guy next to me starts sneezing. I’m thinking, great, I’m catching something. Then—” Poll’s hand clipped the edge of his glass, and the tea tipped forward in slow motion, splashing across the table and onto Alan’s lap. “Damn it!” Poll exclaimed, grabbing napkins. “Sorry, man. My bad.” Alan stood quickly, brushing at the cold, wet fabric. “It’s fine,” he said, chuckling lightly. “It’s just tea. No harm done.” “Still, let me—” Poll started, but Alan waved him off. Alan wiped at his pants, trying to make light of it. He wasn’t thrilled to be walking around with damp pants, but it wasn’t the end of the world. These things happened. Poll was about to let it go when he spotted Lisa walking toward them. She was carrying her tote bag, dressed in a breezy summer dress that looked effortless but undoubtedly wasn’t. She flashed them both a smile as she approached. “Hey, you two,” she said brightly. “Who’s winning?” “Don’t ask,” Poll muttered, grinning. “He’s wiping the floor with me.” Lisa laughed, her eyes shifting to Alan. She hesitated for just a fraction of a second, her smile fading slightly. “Alan, what happened?” “Poll got excited and spilled his tea,” Alan said, his tone light. “No big deal.” Lisa’s gaze dropped to his lap, lingering there a moment too long. “Are you sure it’s just tea?” she asked, her voice soft, concerned. Alan’s smile faltered. “Of course it’s tea,” he said, his tone sharpening. “What else would it be?” Lisa stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I’m just asking. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed if it’s… something else.” “It’s tea, Lisa,” Alan snapped, louder this time. “That’s it.” Poll shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the tension rise like a storm cloud. He decided to step in. “Hey, she’s just looking out for you, man. No need to bite her head off.” Alan shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “I don’t need anyone looking out for me.” Lisa held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay,” she said softly. “I just wanted to check. That’s all.” Alan muttered something under his breath and walked toward the restroom, his chest tight with frustration. He didn’t even need to use the bathroom, but he needed to get away from the table, from Lisa’s quiet scrutiny and Poll’s awkward silence. Inside the cool, tiled bathroom, Alan leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, his jaw clenched. The tea spill had been a harmless accident, but Lisa’s words clung to him like a second skin. “Are you sure it’s just tea?” she’d asked. What kind of question was that? Did she actually think he’d…? Alan shook his head, gripping the edge of the sink. He was healthy. He’d never had an issue like that in his life. The very idea was ridiculous. But the longer he stared at his reflection, the more the doubt crept in. Lisa wasn’t the type to overreact, he told himself. She was a nurse, trained to notice problems before they became serious. Maybe she saw something he didn’t. Maybe— Alan shook his head again, harder this time. No. There was nothing wrong. It was tea. That was it. He wasn’t going to let Lisa’s overactive imagination make him question himself. He straightened, splashed cold water on his face, and forced himself to take a deep breath. When he returned to the table, he plastered on a smile, ignoring the way Lisa’s eyes lingered on him as he sat down. The rest of the game passed in strained silence, the easy camaraderie of earlier completely gone. Alan tried to focus on his swing, on the feel of the club in his hands, but his mind kept drifting back to Lisa’s question and the nagging doubt it had left behind. *End of Flashback* His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen: no new messages. Just a phantom vibration, or maybe his own anxiety playing tricks on him. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, his jaw tightening. His mind drifted back to the golf course. He couldn’t seem to let it go. The moment had been so innocuous, so ordinary—Poll knocking over a glass, tea spilling onto his pants. A harmless accident. Yet somehow, Lisa had managed to turn it into something else entirely. Are you sure it’s just tea? The words played on a loop in his head, each repetition chipping away at his confidence. What had she meant by that? Did she really think he’d wet himself? The absurdity of it was almost laughable, but it didn’t feel funny. It felt invasive, like she’d reached into his mind and planted a thought he didn’t want to acknowledge. And then there was the way she’d looked at him—like she was trying to see past his words, to something hidden beneath the surface. It wasn’t concern; it was something sharper, more probing. Alan shifted in his seat, the stiff leather squeaking beneath him. He hated how much power that single moment seemed to hold over him now. The way Lisa had asked the question—softly, almost innocently—made him feel like denying it was a defense in itself. Like by saying, It’s just tea, he was confirming her suspicion. Why didn’t I just let it go? he thought. Maybe if he’d laughed it off instead of snapping at her, the moment wouldn’t be stuck in his head like this. Maybe she wouldn’t have looked at him like she knew something he didn’t. But that wasn’t it, was it? The moment wasn’t stuck because of how he’d reacted—it was stuck because of how she’d framed it. She’d made him question something he hadn’t even considered. She’d made him doubt himself. His jaw tightened as the memory burned in his mind. Was that her goal? Was she trying to get under his skin? Or worse… what if she was right? Yes, of course, she’s right. Why else would he be sitting here in the doctor’s office if there wasn’t something to it? Alan’s mind shifted to another moment, weeks after the golf course incident. The dinner party. He’d almost forgotten about it—pushed it out of his mind, really—but now, sitting in the waiting room, it came rushing back with startling clarity. *Flashback* It had been a posh evening, the kind Lisa loved to orchestrate. Their friends filled the house with laughter and conversation, wine glasses clinking, the warm aroma of roasted vegetables and garlic wafting from the kitchen. Alan had been in his element, chatting with Poll and a couple of others, feeling the buzz of good food and good company. “Alan,” Lisa had called from the kitchen, her voice light and cheerful. “Can you grab the wine from the fridge?” “On it,” he’d replied, heading into the kitchen with an easy stride. He liked helping out during these gatherings; it made him feel like he was part of the team, not just the host. He opened the fridge, his fingers wrapping around the chilled bottle. As he turned, his elbow caught the edge of a glass on the counter. The water spilled before he could catch it, splashing onto the front of his shirt and pants. “Damn it,” he muttered, grabbing a towel from the counter to dab at the wet spot. It wasn’t a big deal—the water would dry—but he still felt a pang of annoyance. He hated looking anything less than put-together, especially in front of their friends. Before he could finish drying off, Lisa appeared in the doorway, her brow furrowing as her gaze dropped to his pants. “What happened?” she asked, her tone concerned but with a trace of something else he couldn’t quite place. “Nothing,” Alan said, brushing it off. “I knocked over a glass. Just water.” Lisa stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the darkened patch of fabric. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant. Alan froze, the towel hovering over his shirt. “What do you mean, am I sure?” he asked, his irritation bubbling to the surface. “It’s water, Lisa. What else would it be?” “I just…” She hesitated, her eyes meeting his with a mix of pity and caution. “I just wanted to make sure. I don’t want you to feel ...” Alan snapped, his voice rising. “It’s water. That’s it.” Lisa’s expression softened, her lips curving into a small, apologetic smile. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” “You didn’t upset me,” he muttered, turning back toward the living room. “I’m fine.” Lisa didn’t say anything as he walked away, but Alan could feel her gaze on his back, lingering like an unwanted touch. Alan’s jaw clenched as he walked back into the living room, his damp pants still clinging uncomfortably to his legs. He could feel the weight of his friends’ eyes on him as he approached the dining area. Conversations had continued, laughter still punctuating the air, but he was certain it had been quieter when he entered. Too quiet. Like they had been talking about him. “Everything okay, Alan?” Poll asked, his tone casual, but Alan swore there was something behind the words—a touch of concern or curiosity that made his skin prickle. “Fine,” Alan said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. “Just knocked over a glass.” He sat down in his chair, forcing a smile, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that their laughter and whispers weren’t as carefree as they’d been before. His gaze darted to the group across the table, who were leaning toward one another, their voices hushed. Were they glancing at him? No, they couldn’t be—but it felt like they were. Lisa appeared behind him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “Alan,” she said softly, her voice pitched low so only he could hear, “why don’t you go upstairs and change? You’ll feel more comfortable.” “I’m fine,” he muttered, his jaw tight. “Alan,” she insisted, her fingers squeezing his shoulder gently. “You’ll feel better if you’re not sitting in wet pants. And… I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” His head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. “The wrong idea? It’s water, Lisa. Everyone knows that.” “Of course they do,” she said quickly, her tone soothing, almost placating. “But you know how people can be. It’s better to avoid any… misunderstandings.” Alan felt a flash of heat rise to his cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from anger. Why was she making such a big deal out of this? Why was she making him feel like it was a big deal? Still, he couldn’t argue without drawing more attention. “Fine,” he said curtly, standing abruptly. He ignored the glance Poll shot him and made his way upstairs, his shoulders stiff with tension. *End of Flashback* He’d tried to forget about it after that, but the moment had stuck with him, festering in the back of his mind. Why had she asked if he was sure? Did she think he couldn’t tell the difference between water and something else? Or was it another one of those “concerns” she couldn’t seem to stop voicing lately? The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt. It wasn’t just the question—it was the way she’d asked it, like she was planting a seed of doubt and waiting to see if it would grow. And the worst part? It had grown. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even now, weeks later. It gnawed at him, made him feel like he was being scrutinized in ways he didn’t fully understand. He hated how much control those moments seemed to have over him now. The golf course, the dinner party, even the damn laundry stain—it all felt connected somehow, like pieces of a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. Am I overthinking this? he wondered. Or is she really doing this on purpose? The clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm blending with the hum of the air conditioning. Alan’s jaw clenched as the memories looped in his mind, each one heavier than the last. Why can’t I just let it go? But deep down, he knew why. It wasn’t just the moments themselves—it was the way they made him feel. Like he was losing control. Like the ground beneath his feet wasn’t as solid as it used to be. And that was what scared him the most. ____________________________________________________ To be continued ____________________________________________________

Jennifer Crowley is a promising young woman, brimming with intelligence but also not very imaginative when it comes to fantasy subjects. Little does she know that at the college she's going to her new dorm mate is a witch! Not just that however it seems this girl is absolutely evil with people she doesn't like...and Jennifer isn't well liked by her. So Jennifer now has to suffer under her new roommate...or her new mama. If you wanna do this roleplay hmu in chats or send a friend request to jemmolioni on discord! I'm desperate to roleplay so please give me a chance?

I'm Back with another story. Check out my previous one here >The Girls Holiday.... Hopefully you like this one 😊 The Storywriter (Part 1 ) I guess with every story I must first introduce myself, My name is Robert or Rob for short. Unless if your name is Emily (My Wife) and can get away with calling me Robby, grrr I hate nicknames with a passion. Anyways enough digesting I guess, We live in a small town called Maplewood, every face is a familiar one and we both lived a life threaded with love and quiet dreams, This is where my Ego comes into play I guess with my Slender looks i tend to stay at home a lot and work from home. See I am a Storywriter, People basically email me ideas and plots and I make them into a story of magical wonder and fiction and sometimes fact. Emily works in the local nursery as an administrative assistant and I am very much packing my weight, If you don’t get my expression she makes you double back if you past her in the street and nearly bang your head into the lamppost and forget what you just saw, Lets just say I am a very lucky man however we do have 1 big problem in our relationship and that is we cant have children, Emily has a medical condition, The doctors tried to rectify this due to our young ages however was unable to. Fast forward 1 year to today and I have just has my 21st birthday, Emily is a little older at the age of 24 but we get on and that’s all that matters, We have lived in Maplewood now for 1 year and settled in well. The Community is very small and word gets round this town faster than my Nan can walk to the corner shop. With no family in any reasonable traveling distance apart from the Mother in Law who comes over once a week and cleans for us, Family gatherings are a lot of hard work to organise. As I look out the window I can see that a golden haze settled over the town. I am sat at my cluttered desk and the hum of the computer is like a distant white noise. I am writing a story for a client called “The secrets within” when suddenly I got an email notification on my screen. Now normally I would just ignore this email and keep typing but I was particular curious by the title of the email called ABDL, I was trying to work out the acronym to such a strange email but couldn’t figure it out in my head so I had to click on the email to read more. As I sat reading what was written in the email, a sense of fear came over me if I can do such a thing. I had thoughts about the whole scene and thoughts how I was going to make it into a story, I also had thoughts why someone would want this to happen to them and thoughts about refusing as I do not do sexual stories or erotica at all. My thoughts soon snapped out however when the doorbell to the house rang and made me jump out my seat.

Prologue: A girl called Tiffany has been an ice skater since she was a child, thanks to her mother and sister, but there was something hidden that worried her a lot, her mother, who was Mary, a dominant woman, always pushed her to the extreme, whether it was gymnastics or skating, it was hours and hours of training and that wasn't the worst of it, she took growth inhibitors to get smaller, her mother said that gymnasts and skaters shouldn't be big and that wasn't the worst thing, she was treated like a baby so that she could compete in the children's competition, she was forced to wear diapers and pants and that combined with her size went unnoticed, she was a child, so she wouldn't be caught moving out of town. Chapter 1 Tiffany, the Ice Queen, was what all the headlines proclaimed. However, behind this glorious title was a very different reality. Sitting in her car seat, Tiffany looked like a child of eight, despite her seventeen years. Wearing a black Barbie T-shirt and sweatpants, her appearance was undeniably childish. Her rather large pants showed the edge of the diaper she was wearing, making the contrast between her apparent and real age even more obvious. On the bench next to her was Stacy, a fair-haired, soft-skinned girl wearing designer clothes, and her thirteen-year-old sister, holding a pink bottle of formula and gently putting it to Tiffany's lips. Stacy was saying: "Drink it all up, baby, so you can grow up strong." It was a scene that might seem strange to anyone who didn't know the story behind that family. In the driver's seat, Mary, a charming and beautiful woman, drove the car with determination. Her face, despite its serene expression, showed an expression of affection. Looking at the scene, all it took was one serious look to make Tiffany, who was a little stiff and didn't want to drink the bottle, drink it and her gaze returned to one of tenderness. How had Tiffany gotten to this point? Some time before: Tiffany was a native of the state of Minnesota, more precisely of St. Paul. Her family, which once enjoyed a middle-class life, was now facing crises that left deep scars on their daily lives. Mary, the matriarch of the family, was sitting at the table, enjoying a slice of pie and a cup of tea. Leafing through pages of sports magazines, she came across cut-out photos of renowned ice skaters and gymnasts, whose performances exuded grace and talent. The images were a constant reminder of a glorious past and unfulfilled dreams. As her mind plunged into memories of the past, the sound of the "Esmeralda" dance song echoed on Mary's lips. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, and anxiety took hold of her. "That girl is late for training again... it must be those silly little friends of hers," muttered Mary, visibly stressed. Shortly afterwards, the door opened and Tiffany walked in, her blonde hair protected by a cap. On seeing her mother, who asked her why she was so late, Tiffany replied with an excuse about schoolwork. Mary pretended to accept the explanation and went to her daughter's room. Tiffany's room was a child's haven, adorned with colorful posters of her favorite ice skaters. Each image seemed to echo the pressure and expectations that hung over her. As she headed for the bathroom, Mary called for Tiffany, who promptly went into the living room. There, her mother urged her: "We have practice now, come on, little girl." Tiffany tried to argue that she needed to use the bathroom first, but Mary pulled her firmly by the arm, insisting that there was no time to lose. What did the suitcases and ice skates in her car mean? Tiffany's life was a real puppet show, with invisible strings pulling her in unpredictable directions. Author note Hello, I've been away for a while and for a good reason I'm preparing Becky's story in book format with many more details and perhaps surprise photos 🫢 look forward to it! If you want to see photos and more stories, come to my DeviantArt and if you want to support my work, go to my kofi. https://ko-fi.com/lolabunny2rabbit https://www.deviantart.com/lolabunnyrabbit2

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.

Chapter 1: For Her Good I will add the story here as I can. Full story already available here: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AFictionalPhile and https://www.deviantart.com/afictionalphile/gallery/91841094/for-her-good-15-chapters The problem was that she had three roommates. Yet, Sir always said that never being alone was for her good. Sir said it just like that, in a text message, in response to her worrying. Sir said that life goes on. Sir said that... I will not bury the lead. I will not sugarcoat it. Consent culture rightly necessitates that I lay this more bare than anything. We are trying to change your life. Remind yourself once again, Mari. Are we entering this agreement purely for sensation? It was conversations like these that made Mari blush more than the details of their agreement. Sir's language stripped Mari like she'd brought a bomb through TSA. Sir had so effectively undressed her fantasies and fears, in these months, Sir had so quickly probed and unwound her proclivities, that she still felt like a child going to a parent with something as trivial as a hopelessly knotted shoelace. Except that in the case of Sir, she'd shown up presenting her tangled up psyche. Sir had unraveled her problems just the same. Sir had found her mental G-spot with the precision and command of an award-winning chiropractor. Sir never had to say things like: You will cum for me now. Instead Sir would just say: ahhh...that got you there, didn't it? And Sir, as if they were in Mari's head and not in her phone, would always be right. Big girls would respond with more than just emojis, wouldn't they? Sir's presence was digital yet encompassing. Texted but seemingly scriptural. No manager, professor, teacher, or other esteemed individual in her life had so thoroughly outclassed her. She was a rowboat bobbing beside a cruise ship, when Sir's messages crowned her phone banner. Never before had she been so blissfully cowed. Nothing crossed her mind that Sir had not thought of first. No mental caverns existed that Sir could not, with just a few whispers, lead her out of. I understand what you mean. Know this. You are the brave one. You are facing who you are. Take your sense of unworthiness, Mari. Let us say that you're the fuckup. The dropout, the girl with the dead end job. The under-performer. Let's pretend that your three roommates are indeed smarter, better grown-ups than you. Let us say that you've screwed up every relationship you've been in because you're a needy crybaby. Let's own that, Mari. Let's ball it up – put it in a diaper. Change it often enough and it won't leak. If we do this, perhaps none of your faults will leak into your worthiness either. *** A few days before the beginning of her agreement, the first cardboard box (Sir said that there would be very many), lay unopened beside her bed. The box was tucked between her bedside table and the closet, wedged in the space so that she could not even exit her bed to that side without crushing it. It stood out little among the messiness of her room – another token of fuckupery that even Sir did not know about. Even her roommates called her Monster Mari for the way underwear, socks, and clothes were piled on the floor. At her best, she told herself that it was organized. That there was a method to Monster Mari. At her worst, she knew the panties were going in a shoebox, destined for the mail. For Your Good. Just days away from the beginning of her agreement. Sir's last question burned on the phone. Is this thing we are about to do purely sensational? She shot off a message. "No Sir," she said. She knew it was a little girl's answer, and that Sir wouldn't be pleased. Sir was going to coach her through her fears, once again, and in the end Sir would be right. Mari rolled over and groaned. Sir had owned her orgasms almost since they'd begun messaging. She'd almost begged Sir to take them; without prompting, one night when they were first messaging each other. Before diapers and all that took over their DMs. She'd just asked for permission, Sir ignored it. She'd asked again, hot, her fingers moving fast. The question had prompted another lecture from Sir – one of the hottest things she'd ever experienced. Sir would do no half measures. Sir played no games. Permission now is meaningless without a totality, Mari. And I won't get into something so serious, so flippantly. That night, she'd wanted it. "Can I?" she asked. Again and again. Mari. You can do whatever you like tonight. We can have a serious conversation about it, and I would like to. But we will not have it now. They'd had that conversation just a few days later. Mari, for all her distractibility, for all her reprimands at work for not being on the phones long enough, for not working as hard as she could be, had never been more focused on a thing in her life. Selling her pussy to Sir was a divine urgency; it was the only thing that could get her heart to stop beating through her ribs. She sat on calls at work, at her desk in her Monster Mari room, one hand constantly between her thighs. I have a standard for this, Mari. This isn't my first rodeo. You will only cum with my permission. When I command you to go to your room to play and cum, you will do so. I will not ask when this would be disruptive. Though it may not be what you want, I will always ask For Your Good. Honesty is up to you. You can have sex with any person and any outcome is acceptable, so long as you report it to me afterwards. The last part always struck her as odd. Almost disappointing. She was hoping at least for something savage. Anal chastity, the purchase of some grotesque implement to rail herself on camera. It took her months to test Sir's nugget of freedom. When she returned to Sir with reports of a cocktail-soaked conquest, she was surprised about how happy Sir was for her. "Aren't you...I used YOUR pussy like that? You know?" Use big girl words. "Aren't you jealous?" I get to talk to you as much as I do. You don't know who I am. I have no right to feel jealous. And least of all no cause. I'm proud of you. "But it's YOUR pussy and I just...used it..." It was a guy, right? And he fucked you? "Yah. It wasn't, like, amazing. But yeah." And did he cum inside of you? This sort of question, with anyone else, would have made her roll her eyes. But with Sir it piqued her. She was once again disrobed with a text and it took great discipline for her to not respond with an emoji. "Well...in a condom. But yeah." That's what pussies are for, Mari. I am like an underwriter for your car, if you had one. I would not be displeased if you drove your car. I would, however, like to know if you were spinning donuts in a parking lot with it. Think of it this way. Your pussy doesn't belong to me. Rather, it simply does not belong to you. We do not live in a world where a public pillory to display your entries is safe or acceptable. But know this. The world is a better place when you have been mounted and used. In the same way that the world is better when food is eaten and not left to spoil, just so I hope that those who want to enter you, may. It is the same with your eventual diapering. When the day comes, Mari. You are not giving up your adulthood. You are simply accepting that everyone – everyone – is more adult than you. She remembered thinking about this for a while, and almost forgetting to ask for permission. "Will this be the case when I'm in diapers?" Yes, of course. "Will I get an exception for my diapers when it comes to...sex?" Do you want an exception? "No..." Then why does a little girl ask this question?

Disclaimer: I’m posting a little outtake and sneak peak of what my next story is going to be after ‘A Little’s Life’! The story won’t be in the ‘You’ pov but this was just a fun little idea I had where you can place yourself in the main character’s shoes! I may end up putting this in the actual story later on but I’m still deciding on that. However, enjoy in the meantime and tell me what you think! OoOoo Your incontinent now. The sensation is there when you need to go but the desire to hold it in is no longer present. You release your bodily fluids into a thick oversized article of clothing around your lower half for the pleasure of another and absolutely love it because that’s what she loves. Your Mommy. She loves when you wet yourself and even more when you mess. There’s a thrill of excitement and the maternal pleasure mixed with a scheming sparkle behind her cloudy blue eyes that makes every cold and soggy moment worth it. “Tickle me surprised, that can’t be… y /n?” a voice called out in the distance directed at you but can’t look away from the screen because Mommy said good girls and boys watch Soggy Froggy and Soggy Froggy won’t let you go until your diapers are as soggy as each other’s which is never a problem. “Oh, y/n doesn’t answer to that silly name anymore.” Mommy laughed with a wave of her hand. “It’s good to see you out and about!” “I see you have finally broken the unbroken.” “It’s just the power of the Revamp.” The person sounds impressed and you can’t help but feel pride. It had taken a lot of work to undo all of the damage caused by your own selfish wants and desires. You had been a spoiled brat, demanding more and more unrealistic expectations like the rights to make your own decisions and have a mind of your own. Hah! As if! You were just above five feet tall and that hardly constituted an adult plus the fact you were nearly thirty eight years old with a full time job? Someone had been pulling the piss out of you, fueling your delusions for so many years. It was a relief when Mommy finally stepped in and if not for the the Revamp, you never would have seen the beauty and joy of being re-diapered, having all control taken away and being reminded of what a dumb, immature baby you are with a pea sized brain made for nothing but an Amazon’s pleasure. And you couldn’t forget Soggy Froggy. A high pitched giggle escapes past your lips as Soggy Froggy ribbets out the song: Soggy Froggy likes to hop. Soggy Froggy likes to jump. Soggy Froggy likes to laugh and Soggy Froggy likes to dance! Do you know what else Soggy Froggy likes to do? Soggy Froggy likes to poop, just like you! Can you make a boom boom like Soggy Froggy? How soggy are you? Oh you were very soggy and that wasn’t the only thing. Your diaper was already bursting at the seams, ready to spill over but that didn’t matter. Mommy loved a good blow out and the messier the better, especially in public. It was the blush of your skin and startled look in your glazed over eyes that got her going every time. It is at those moments you recall the fleeting memory of the dignity you used to possess, how far you had fallen, which just added to the debasement that she made sure you wouldn’t forget. But it was something that you deserved and the Revamp was a reminder of that in the form of a grumbling tummy and expanding diaper every day. “Oh, y/n doesn’t respond to that name. Hasn’t in months now!” Yes, that’s right. No more y/n. Only y/n. “Hehehe!” You giggle and giggle and at Soggy Froggys request, allow your grumbly tummy to do what it is yearning for. There’s an audible crinkle as your diaper swells with warm piss, ballooning out nearly to your knees and it’s good you were in a stroller because you wouldn’t be able to walk otherwise (not that you needed to much these days). A pungent odor of stale urine stuck to the inside of your thighs and a freshly made warm bowel movement creeped up your backside in an uncomfortable, disgusting feeling. As the screen goes black suddenly, the episode is done and the iPad has disappeared from your hands tucked away in the underbelly of the contraption. “What a darling girl you have,” the woman cooed with her pearly white teeth bared in a way that reminded you more of the monsters hiding beneath your crib than a friendly smile. “It seems someone has finally learned the pleasure of diapers.” “Yes, well life is better when all you have to do is eat and play and sleep all day.” “And not even wipe your own ass.” “Precisely!” The two laugh, reminiscent of the whines of hyenas closing in on their prey. “Y/n was such a bitch back then. You don’t know how badly I wanted to stick an enema up their ass and watch them squirm and beg.” Hissed the mysterious Amazon. The eleven foot tall woman glowered down at you with sudden hateful eyes and you do not know what you have done wrong but it must have been bad because you was very naughty back then, very immature talking back to these Amazons who obviously were way more smarter and mature. Shooting a worried look to Mommy, she is not paying attention and you shift uncomfortably in the soiled smelly diaper as the harness harshly pressed against the sodden padding. You desperately want a change but know it is incredibly selfish to wish that because Mommy worked so hard, just like every Amazon, and it wasn’t fair to demand so much from a person. You want to scream against the inequality but a firm pat to your succulent crotch emits a loud squelch and the awful thoughts leave your mind. It reminds you of why you are in diapers in the first place and why you should be grateful for Mommy’s sadistic love and care. Just a dimwitted Little, your wants and needs don’t even come second or third or fourth to the much superior beings. That’s why you had a binky to reflect, keep quiet and remember why you are in this position in the first place. To remind you that you deserved every overflowing diaper, uncomfortable restraint and punishing hand because you failed at being grown up and had to be set back in your place. If a collar was a slave’s symbol of ownership and submission then a diaper was yours and Mommy held the chain. “Y/n has at least two bowel movements a day, sometimes even three and wets every hour or so! We can’t have them forgetting their place, can we?” The question is phrased toward you and shaking your head in response, you are unable to speak due to the ballooned pacifier between your lips and Mommy smiles down at you. Good baby. You read the praise in her eyes. Obedient. Silent. Wet and messy. That’s all you need to be to fulfill your purpose in life no matter how degrading and it wasn’t for my own comfort but for the Amazons' will. That’s what the Revamp taught every infected Little, the disease seeping into the nooks and crannies of your brain and stripping away any semblance of humanity you had left. Left in place were simpering, helpless beings finally having seen the light. The Revamp didn’t change who you are. Instead it forced you to admit who you’ve really have really been all along and embrace your natural self that society forced you to suppress. It was six months ago in a leak across the nation the Revamp occurred. In a technologically dominated society that could not function without the ample and quick use of the shiny and inventive gadgets, the dimension was in a panic. The solution to the dire problem was a revamp which meant the reworking of the entire systems and as they were powered back on twenty four hours later, Littles began to drop like flies. Infected from a mass hypnotization across the city by the Revamp, it brought out every Little’s inner submissiveness and utmost childish side. Finally you were able to see reason and to give yourselves over to what the Amazons’ had been campaigning for years: Dominance. The Littles are on the bottom diapered and swaddled in an Amazon’s care, being the weakest members of society and Amazons are on top because it was only the way it could be. The larger you were the more space you would inevitably take up but the Amazons had been pushed away and shoved in a corner for however many years all in the name of faux equality. But the Revamp had quickly fixed that, restoring the natural order to society where everyone has a definitive place and everyone is happy. You didn’t know until the Revamp that’s what you needed. A true Little doesn’t understand the feeling of freedom until on your backside with a nozzle up your bottom with your stomach being pumped full of warm soapy water by an Amazonian goddess. Relishing in the pain and discomfort, you accept the lack of responsibility, the lack of choice, and finally have a chance to let go of all the worries pent up inside which made you fully appreciate and value what a minuscule person you had become, even less than that. You have allowed the true rulers and natural leaders of this world to shine and rightly so and that was your doing - giving joy to another even if it meant giving up your own. It was the ultimate sacrifice. It is your final attempt at a selfless act to correct the selfishness you’d thrived in for however many years but your actions can never be forgotten. You can only move forward and do your part to contribute to the natural order of society by being less than you actually are, making yourself smaller in order to make the Amazon species bigger. You will accept your diapered life and permanent stench of baby powder and constant stink of your own mess while crawling on your hands and knees or awkwardly waddling always a step behind the much more intelligent beings. By sacrificing your own small and unimportant space, it allows for another taller and better person to take over. And that was the greatest pleasure of all time - well maybe second - that is after the worshiping and suckling of the Amazon’s milk filled tits and large domineering hands holding you down as you writhed in discomfort and humiliation. There was no greater shame than standing naked in front of an Amazon your age or younger as they bend you over and drag you around like a rag doll, thwacking your jiggling bottom and locking up your hairless neither regions that remind you that every semblance of adulthood, privacy, and dignity was just a foolish tale. That is when you're reminded of the evil, corrupted person you used to be when a tingle of excitement dances in a place that it should not be and only Mommy can decide when and if you will be satisfied because she is an adult. She is an Amazon. She is your everything, she is your world and the center of your universe. Without her, you would have been stuck in a monotonous nine to five job wasting your life away in this faux victim mentality while actively oppressing the true oppressed that are Amazons - your Mommy - the people who only want to care for you even after all the trauma your kind has caused, such selfish dwarfs you are. It’s so distressing you begin to cry until the warm familiar comfort of the soft and fluffy diaper is slipped between your legs and you're floating on a cloud in your mind and below. If it was not for her kind heart and generosity you would have been left waddling blind in the dark, leading a life only half - lived with dry undies and warm pillows but the Revamp made you see reason and Mommy saving you was just the cherry on top. “Aren’t you going to change them? They could get a diaper rash.” The stranger pointes down at you not out of concern but thinly veiled glee. You have forgotten your filthy state, sans clothing besides the completely brown and yellow stained padding that once was white and your bodily fluids have now crusted to your baby soft skin. “Oh, don’t worry about Y/N.” Mommy ruffles your hair. “Diaper rashes are a good reminder to help these troublesome Littles to remember their place. As you know if you give them an inch they will take a mile.” As Mommy spoke you could only giggle and squeal from behind your pacifier, suckling harshly to distract yourself from the stinging tears because somewhere deep in the recesses of your mind, a tiny voice screamed: This isn’t you! This isn’t right! You’re an adult! You have rights! They’ve brainwashed you! You want to listen to the voice but the Revamp is strict and its teachings are so firm in place that it keeps you captive in chokehold. Your eyes glaze over as another mushy warmth slides outside from inside you into your abused diaper and you know it’s the Revamp’s helping hand, a gentle nudge to remind you how far you have fallen.

What has Jackie been up to since last we saw her? Well, let's find out! Part two coming next week! If you're unfamiliar with Jackie, this might feel like a weird place to jump in. I've written about her and some of the other characters in these stories before, so you might want to check out Baby's Unexpected Trip and Jackie's Play Date first. ----- Jackie was still tired. Strapped into her car seat, she couldn’t help but be reminded of just how much she had become the baby that everyone else in her life told her that she was. It was barely one in the afternoon, and she’d slept her normal 13 hours the night before. And despite having only woken up at 8, by 11:45 she’d already had breakfast, her daily morning breastfeeding, and lunch. She’d been put down for her nap a little earlier than normal, and being accustomed to her rigidly enforced habits, hadn’t been able to fall asleep as quickly as normal. Before she knew it, Mama was waking her from what felt like only minutes of sleep. After a quick brush of her hair, Mama brought her out to the car and had her strapped in in no time. The loud, childish songs that were playing over the car stereo while Mama drove were even more annoying for Jackie than normal. She often liked to tell herself that she would be fine without the embarrassing amounts of sleep that she got, but if Jackie ever had a day where she got less than an hour and a half for a nap, she’d find herself tired for the rest of the day and sometimes would be so grumpy that Mama would decide that she needed to go to bed even earlier than her normal 7pm bedtime. As usual, Mama hadn’t bothered to tell Jackie where they were headed, but the change in routine gave Jackie a pretty good idea of their destination. Though it was theoretically possible that they were heading to a birthday party for one of the other adult babies in the area, it was most likely that the change signaled that it was time for Jackie to get a haircut. Jackie had made this trip many times before. For almost the first year that she had been returned to infancy, Jackie hadn’t had a haircut. Her hair had been fairly short in college, but it had eventually grown extremely long and fairly unmanageable. Her Nanny, as her Mama was then known, had heard from one of her fellow care-givers that there was a salon in town that closed down its normal business one Saturday afternoon every couple of months and provided haircuts to several of the big babies in the area. For the remaining two years that she had lived as her biological parents’ overgrown infant and the three years since she’d been “adopted” by her Mama, Jackie had been a regular on those Saturday afternoons. As with almost every trip out of the house, Jackie had come to hate her haircuts. With the salon closed, it was only other adults in her situation and their caretakers who were around, but having more people around always increased the opportunities for humiliation. Not only did Jackie have to continue to play her babyish role in front of the other mommies (whose rules and admonishments for their own charges often gave Mama new and humiliating ideas to use on Jackie), but she had to endure the haircuts themselves. Over the course of the five years since she’d been subject to several particularly mortifying styles. At first, her mother had favored a relatively simple cut that lent itself to easy pigtails – a classic but basic look that Jackie could live with, especially when left down. Once Mama took over such decisions, though, things changed significantly. Within a few months, Jackie’s head had been completely shaved, and even applied with a cream that had left her without hair growing back in for the next few months. Though that had saved her from a few rounds of haircuts, Jackie had hated having no hair, especially since during that period Mama treated her as much like a newborn as possible by carrying her more and increasing the amount that she breastfed Jackie. After about six months, Jackie’s hair had finally begun to grow back and the trips to the salon resumed. At first, her trips had mostly involved styling, but eventually her hair was long enough to need trimming in order to maintain a style over the course of the next few months. Her hair was not nearly as thick as it had been before it was cut off, but it had still gotten long enough now to be tied into high ponytails that emerged from the top of her head, which Jackie found to be a particularly humiliating look. Though Jackie wished they wouldn’t, they soon arrived at the salon. Mama parked the car in the parking lot behind the building and came around to the back door of the car. She grabbed the large, pastel pink diaper bag with the embroidered inscription “OPEN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY” from the seat next to Jackie, and then unbuckled the straps that had tightly restrained her in the seat. As she climbed out of the car and Mama closed the door behind them, Jackie suddenly became highly self-conscious about her outfit. Though it hadn’t fully turned cold yet, the slight autumn chill had meant that Mama had begun “making sure that her little baby wasn’t cold” when they went out. As such, Jackie was wearing a rather heavy pink fleece jacket that fastened with four buttons stylized to look like small children’s blocks spelling the word “baby” from top to bottom. The jacket was paired with a matching wool hat designed to look like what a baby girl would wear home from the hospital, complete with a small ribbon bow that featured prominently on Jackie’s forehead. In practice, since the garage door hadn’t even been open when Jackie got into the car, the coat and hat only served to make Jackie much too warm and contributed to her inability to shake her post-nap grogginess. Peeking out from under the coat was the very bottom of the skirt of her short, royal purple baby dress. Of course, none of this did anything to hide the matching purple rhumba pants that theoretically concealed her obviously bulging diaper. Her legs were covered by a pair of opaque white tights that had been put on over her diaper but underneath her panties. On her feet, she wore black Mary-Janes with a modest heel, and the entire look was accompanied by her oversized and omnipresent pacifier. Immediately, though without great force, Mama grabbed Jackie by the wrist and led her across the parking lot to the salon’s entrance. Mama pressed the doorbell, and though there was little chance of being seen and she’d be happy for it as soon as she was inside, Jackie wished that the door wasn’t locked so that she wouldn’t have to stand exposed in her babyish attire as they waited. After what felt like minutes, but was really just about 15 seconds, the door was opened by the salon’s proprietor, Ms. Parker. “Oh, Baby Jackie!” she exclaimed. “Come in darling, you must be freezing out there. It’s so good to see you!” Jackie wasn’t freezing in the slightest, but she gladly stepped into the salon, followed by Mama. Ms. Parker closed the door behind them, and then planted a kiss on Jackie’s cheek. “Say hi to Ms. Parker,” Mama said as she pulled Jackie’s pacifier out of her mouth. “Hi Miff Pahkah,” Jackie lisped. Her job done, the pacifier was just as quickly replaced and Jackie automatically began sucking on its bulb. Mama went to work, first removing Jackie’s hat and then removing Jackie’s coat, all while Jackie stood there uselessly. “I just love your dress, princess!” Ms. Parker said, taking a small step back to survey it as Mama hung up the coat and diaper bag on a rack near the door. “Say thank you to Ms. Parker,” Mama said, again removing the pacifier, ostensibly so that Jackie could speak more clearly, though she was still mandated to lisp outlandishly. “Fank you Miff Pahkah,” Jackie said, following the time-honored strategy of exactly mimicking the words that Mama prompted her with. “And maybe a little curtsey so that she can see it better?” Mama prompted while returning the pacifier to its normal home. Jackie didn’t necessarily want to, but she obediently grabbed a hold of both sides of her dress, bent her knees as she raised her hands to more fully reveal her diapers (Jackie knew that nobody was actually paying attention to the skirt), and finished with a slight twirling flourish that guaranteed that she wouldn’t be required to repeat her humiliation. “Oh, very beautiful!” Ms. Parker exclaimed. “Now why don’t you go play with your friends?” Grateful to be out of the high-pressure interaction with a less familiar grown-up, Jackie continued the five or so wobbly paces down the entrance hall of the salon and stepped out into the main part of the shop. It featured a single room, with the cutting area in the front and chairs for waiting along the wall in the back. Jackie suspected that the salon must normally cater to families with young children, as there was a play area that took up much of the floor behind the chairs that was full of toys that the babies were to play with on these Saturdays. Jackie surveyed the scene. In the chair, apparently just about to get her haircut was Jackie’s frequent playdate companion, Baby Tory. Tory’s nanny and Jackie’s Mama were good friends, as they were similar ages and similarly eager tormentors of their charges. Though Jackie and Tory had little in common themselves except for their babied states, that friendship meant that the two of them saw each other at least monthly outside of haircuts. Ironically, since haircuts always happened on Saturdays, Tory never came with her nanny, but instead with her mommy, the wife of Tory’s ex-boyfriend who had been dominating Tory with her husband for nearly two decades. Mama and Tory’s mommy had much less in common, and so while they were cordial, there was much less chatter than during a regular playdate. On the floor in the center of the room was Stephanie, the first girl that Jackie had ever met who was in a similar situation to her. Hers was in fact very similar, as she too had been regressed by parents who were disappointed by the choices that she had made independently, though she continued to live with them and was accompanied to the salon by her mother. Over by the wall, Jackie could see Baby Kori, whom she had met a few times outside of the salon and often saw here. Kori was being fed a bottle across the lap of her slightly older sister, who Jackie had learned had regressed Kori after having spent more than a year supporting her and providing shelter without Kori showing any signs of seeking a job. Though Kori was only a few years younger than Jackie, Jackie had always felt like they had little in common. Once she had learned more about Kori’s background, Jackie had done her best to keep her distance when possible at the salon, as she felt that if anyone deserved this fate, it might well be Kori. Finally, sitting on a tiny chair at a tiny table and having a tea party with a few dolls that sat in the other seats was another baby that Jackie didn’t feel comfortable around, albeit for different reasons. Susie, as she was called, was the only baby that Jackie knew that wasn’t actually a girl, but in fact a sissy. His wife, who sat along the wall with the other dominant women, had regressed him several years prior, and in many ways, Susie stood out for her girlish looks and behavior even in a room full of women who dressed and acted like the most stereotypical of little girls. The sissy always wore short, lacy dresses that were filled out by layers of petticoats and complimented by higher heels than any of the other babies were ever permitted, and today’s pastel yellow dress was no exception. While all of the babies in the room lisped on the rare occasions they were allowed to speak, Susie’s was so high-pitched and ridiculous that Jackie could barely believe it could possibly come from an adult, let alone a man. Jackie didn’t really have a problem with Susie, but the presence was still somewhat off-putting. Except for her actual father and for Mama’s boyfriend of more than two years who she now was made to call Dada, her world was exclusively female. While part of her recognized that Susie was much too busy being thoroughly embarrassed about all of the women in the room seeing him this way, Jackie couldn’t help but be extra self-conscious about her babyish status and especially her diapered state when she knew that there was a man of approximately her age in the room. In addition to the people in the room, the other thing that Jackie quickly noticed as she stepped in was the smell. She’d recognized early on in her first visit to the salon that one of the reasons that the salon closed to other customers during this time was the unmistakable stench of a daycare that overtook the salon. Sure, there might have been some concern for anonymity (though Jackie assumed that was mostly the caregivers not wanting too many people aware of their likely criminal exploitation of their charges rather than a sudden concern that the babies might be even further humiliated), but most customers wouldn’t want to share a small shop with so many babies and so many diapers. The close concentration of high quantities of baby powder, stale urine, and often much worse meant that the room soon smelled much like any of the babies’ nurseries at home. The pungent aroma that had greeted Jackie as she entered the room let her know that one of her companions was either wearing a messy diaper currently or had recently been changed out of one. Upon reaching the carpeted play area, Jackie dutifully dropped to her knees and began to crawl over to Stephanie, who in her mind was easily the best choice to play with given the circumstances. Almost surely just because they had met first and had a similar backstory, Jackie had long ago decided that she liked Stephanie the best of her “friends.” She had no idea what she might be like if they were to meet outside of the confines of their second infanthood, but here they had built up a reasonable rapport. Had it been a playdate, the two girls would have been forced to endure an elaborate greeting ritual that involved sharing a dramatized, wet kiss on the lips. However, in this setting the mommies seemed to think that it was more hassle than it was worth to have each girl greet each other in such an involved manner, since it necessitated the removal and replacements of pacifiers several times over and could never be done efficiently so long as one girl was getting her haircut. Instead, Jackie and Stephanie simply exchanged a knowing glance from behind their binkies, and Jackie picked up a stuffed animal from the pile near Stephanie. Although Jackie and Stephanie weren’t allowed to actually speak unless prompted, and certainly weren’t permitted to converse with each other, now that they were playing together, they were expected to make noises that “showed that they were having fun.” This was quite a challenge, since they were expected to be fairly raucous without having the opportunity to coordinate any sort of premise with each other, and they weren’t, in fact, having much of any fun at all. By now, Jackie had learned that her playtime with the other babies was designed to make them resort to the most demonstratively babyish forms of play possible, and also to force them to really work at it, which would make it challenging for them to pay attention to the grown-up conversation. This was a shame, because Jackie was always desperate to overhear it. It often contained interesting details about her companions’ lives and backstories and it was almost the only time she ever heard anyone speak in anything but baby talk. As usual, the result of the play rules meant that Jackie and Stephanie started to make a range of noises, ranging from humming to animal noises, with occasional high-pitched squeals and obviously fake, childish giggles mixed in as well. While not remotely stimulating, the exercise did require some focus, which helped to make time pass faster than it did when Jackie was on her own in a playpen. Soon enough, they were approached by Mama, Stephanie’s Mommy, and Ms. Parker. “I’m sorry to break up your fun, babies, but it’s time for somebody’s haircut,” Ms. Parker said patronizingly. It turned out that it was Stephanie’s turn, and she was helped to her feet and escorted over to the chair by her Mommy and Ms. Parker. In the meantime, Mama put her hands in Jackie’s armpits and used her prodigious strength to lift her straight off of the ground and carry her towards one of the couches on the side of the room. “It’s time for my wittle gurl to have a nice big buh-buh before her turn,” she cooed right in Jackie’s ear. They sat down at the far side of the same couch that Kori had been fed on earlier. Kori had been released and was now making the required fool of herself while attempting to dance along to a video playing children’s songs on the television in the corner of the room. Her mommy/sister, however, remained on the coach, and quickly asked if she could feed Jackie her bottle, which was fairly common practice at these events. Though Jackie wished she wouldn’t since she somehow found it even more humiliating to obediently slurp down formula when someone unfamiliar was doing the feeding, Mama unsurprisingly agreed. From the arm of the couch, she picked up the bib that she had removed from Jackie’s diaper bag and fastened the Velcro together behind Jackie’s neck. The bib was a simple white number embroidered with a yellow duck, sized for an actual baby. It would be completely useless if anything were to actually spill, but that was virtually impossible during a bottle feeding. Instead, it was meant to be another ridiculous little reminder of Jackie’s infantile status, a function it performed quite effectively. Mama eased Jackie’s head back into her new tormenter’s lap, and then positioned Jackie’s feet across her own lap. She quickly handed over the bottle, and Jackie’s pacifier was quickly replaced by the rubber nipple of the bottle. Although Kori’s Mommy was cooing all sorts of comments about how sweet she was, Jackie knew that she had no obligation to in any way respond except by continuing to suck on the grossly sweet formula that made up almost all of her daily liquids. Despite the added humiliation of the close attention of a near-stranger who could have been a social peer had her life taken a more normal path, Jackie was quickly settling into a rhythm when she was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing to announce the arrival of another customer. Turning her attention away from Stephanie, whose hair she had been washing, Ms. Parker disappeared down the hallway to answer the door. “Oh, hi, you must be Julia! I’m Ms. Parker. It’s so nice to meet you!” Jackie heard from across the short distance to the door. “I am. We’re so excited to meet you too!” “And look at this!” Ms. Parker continued, turning her tone towards a more syrupy coo that told Jackie that she had turned her attention to Julia’s charge. “How precious, you must be so proud! Oh, please do come in. This is exciting!” As she heard the sounds of coats being taken off and hung up, Jackie racked her mind to think if she knew a caretaker named Julia. She didn’t think so, which might mean that she was about to meet a new entrant to the bizarre social circle she inhabited, though she knew that she didn’t know most of the dominant women in the salon’s first names, so it was possible that she was mistaken. “All right, come right through then and I can introduce everybody,” said Ms. Parker, confirming Jackie’s suspicions as she reemerged from the hallway. She was followed by an average height woman of seemingly no more than 25 dressed in a chic sweater and flattering jeans, who Jackie quickly surmised must be Julia. Somewhat hiding behind her, each being gently pulled along by one of Julia’s hands, came not one but two girls who would clearly be joining Jackie on the list for Ms. Parker’s haircuts today. Jackie was stunned, as she’d never seen anyone with two babies before. Furthermore, a quick doubletake confirmed that the two girls were quite clearly identical twins. They were both just slightly smaller than Julia, and wore matching baby-blue dresses with pink puffy sleeves that were so short that they didn’t even make an effort to conceal the thick diapers they wore underneath. They even seemed to be nervously sucking on their pacifiers in almost perfect unison. From across the room, the only difference that Jackie could spot between the two of them was that one of the two women wore a childish-looking pair of pastel-purple-rimmed glasses. Jackie’s gawking was curtailed at least temporarily when Ms. Parker addressed the room in a deliberate, sing-song voice that kept up the premise that the big babies would only understand what she was saying if she used that preposterous tone. “Everyone, we have some new friends today! This,” she said, gesturing towards the girl with glasses, “is Baby Lauren. And here is her sister, Baby Katie. And this is their mommy, Julia.” “Say hi to your new friends, girls,” Julia gently commanded, ushering them forward from behind her as she spoke. Still behind their pacifiers, both girls gave a muffled “hi” and a weak wave from the hand that Julia wasn’t holding. Katie, in particular, seemed unable to pick her eyes up to look at the crowd. “Babies, all the other little girls here are going to be your friends,” continued Ms. Parker, beginning a round of introductions. “Right here just getting her hair cut now is Baby Stephanie. Over there by the TV is Baby Kori.” Jackie’s eyes followed the direction of the point, seeing that Kori had paused her arrhythmic shaking and twisting, leaving her in an exaggeratedly bow-legged stance in front of the television as she looked back over her shoulder to take in the show-stopping arrival of the twins. “This is Baby Susie and her mommy,” Ms. Parker said, as Jackie noticed slight looks of surprise register on the twins’ faces at the sight of the obviously sissified man. Susie had abandoned her tea party and was now being read a children’s story by his wife while sitting on the floor between her legs with his head resting on her thigh docilely. Jackie had reason to believe that Susie in fact quite despised this role, but she was always amazed at just how devoted of a mama’s girl the sissy could play. “Over in the corner, that’s Baby Jackie having a nice bot-bot from Kori’s mummy,” Ms. Parker said, turning the room’s attention to where Jackie wanted it least. “And her Mama is on the other side of the couch.” Nothing was expected of Jackie, but she still froze. Even as she had followed the conversation around the room, she had continued to make steady progress on her bottle, but now it simply sat in her mouth as she felt the focus of the newcomers turn to her. It truly didn’t matter, but she suddenly wished that her head had been on the other side of the couch so that her exposed diaper bulge would be pointed towards the back wall of the room as opposed to being clear for all to see. She knew that two of the three women might be dressed even more ridiculously than she was, and that the third was the one who dressed them like that, but she still felt an instinctive need to preserve the modesty that she had functionally lost long ago. Perhaps fortunately for Jackie, she could see as she turned a blushing glance towards the new entrants that they were not really paying her much attention already. They were looking in her general direction, but their attention was focused squarely on the floor near the sofa adjacent to the one Jackie occupied, and Jackie could suddenly see why. As Jackie had been doing her best to zone out the annoying cooing from Kori’s mommy by focusing intently on the cartoon images on the side of her bottle, it seemed she had missed the early stages of Tory getting a diaper change before the doorbell had rung. Though it had perhaps just begun, her mommy had clearly not allowed the new company to be a deterrent. As the room’s attention turned to them, she was holding the middle-aged woman’s ankles high in the air with one hand and grasping for baby wipes with the other. One look at Tory’s filthy bottom and the diaper underneath her confirmed for Jackie that Tory had been the source of the smell that Jackie had noted when she walked into the salon. Jackie’s eyes lingered for a moment longer and she saw the mortified big baby twitch as the first cold wipe broke through the shameful brown mush and revealed her clean-shaven skin. Jackie had seen Tory’s diapers changed many times before, but she’d never seen her look remotely so embarrassed. The silent tears that Jackie could see welling in Tory’s eyes betrayed just how much she wished not to meet new people with a dirty backside being helplessly wiped. Jackie turned her glance back to the entrance, and observed that Lauren, Katie, and even Julia all had looks that could best be described as awe on their faces. She wondered if they were surprised only because it was an odd way to meet someone in their 40s, even in the circumstances, or if part of the look had to do with how Tory put up no discernable resistance even in the face of such extreme humiliation. After a rather lengthy pause, Ms. Parker offered a narration. “THAT,” she said without needing to gesture, “is Baby Tory and her Mommy.” “Nice to meet you, everyone,” offered Tory’s mommy, looking up between wipes of her charge’s dirty anus. “Sorry about my little poo-poo princess here. Babies like her never do seem to pick a good time to make stinkies, do they?” Perhaps sensing a moment to inflict maximum embarrassment, she quickly moved herself closer to Tory’s face and cooed rhetorically, “You never do make stinkies at a good time, do you Baby Tory? I don’t think so. You’re just a big poopy princess with bad timing!” With that, she planted a patronizing kiss on her crying forehead and returned to the task of cleaning up after the shameful evidence that her accusations carried more truth than Tory would have liked. Jackie felt bad for Tory, but was also glad that attention had focused on her so briefly and that it hadn’t been her being so singularly humiliated. She realized that she had been gawking like everyone else when Kori’s mommy gently pushed on the bottle to ease her head back into the normal lying position. She once again began suckling as she heard Ms. Parker dismiss Lauren and Katie to go play. She saw Lauren dash off to the tea set that Susie had vacated with surprising energy, and noted that Katie looked decidedly less enthusiastic as she followed. “Kori, keep dancing over there,” Kori’s mommy instructed to what in reality was her sister while continuing to firmly hold Jackie’s bottle in place. “Yeff mummy,” came the hastily squealed response, and Kori furiously redoubled her remarkably childish efforts. Jackie looked up and realized that both caretakers were glowing. Instantly, she realized that neither her Mama nor Kori’s had felt any sympathy for Tory, but instead had shared her Mommy’s thrill in the utter humiliation that was inflicted. Jackie could tell that all of these women must have shared a set of instincts that allowed them to treat the babies like this in the first place, and that each of them was feeling a major rush right now. It didn’t actually surprise her in the slightest to see Mama react this way, but it still scared her. She didn’t think Mama could recreate that particular scenario, but thrills like these often turned into Mama’s most innovative ways to torture Jackie within her humiliating role in their strange family. Jackie tried not to imagine finding herself at the center of that scene as she finished her bottle. Once she was done, she was sat up in Kori’s mommy’s lap, with the slight warm squish that accompanied the position change reminding her that she’d been uselessly trickling pee into her diaper since she was changed a few hours ago. Kori’s mommy began to steadily apply firm pats to Jackie’s back, beginning the embarrassing process of producing a few pre-requisite burps before the feeding could really end. She held the bib up to Jackie’s chin with her other hand. For a second Jackie was a bit confused, but then she realized that it was probably a stand-in for a burp rag, which wasn’t really necessary for adult babies but was still used occasionally by most of the dominants in the room. Jackie took in the scene in front of her. Tory was now secured in a fresh diaper and was herself in the midst of bottle feeding, which was surely a welcome respite from the attention of a few minutes earlier. Jackie’s focus settled onto the mysterious new twins. What caught her eye first was that they were playing differently than the other babies in the room. The most obvious difference was that they were standing up. Though standing could occasionally be a part of specific activities like Kori’s dancing, in general all of the other babies in the room were expected to be crawling and doing all of their playing on the floor. Beyond that, though, Jackie was struck by the energy that Lauren and Katie were bringing to their play. Lauren seemed to be completely over the embarrassment she felt upon walking in, and was constantly jumping around from toy to toy, picking it up and playing with it for a few minutes before bounding off the next item that caught her eye. Katie seemed mostly concerned with not losing Lauren, and would quickly follow her sister everywhere she went. It was like nothing Jackie had ever seen before. She was expected to show signs of enthusiasm when playing with the other babies, but nobody cared that the enthusiasm was obviously faked so long as it existed. Yet, with these twins, it almost seemed like they were actually enjoying themselves. Jackie’s observation time was cut short after a few more minutes when Ms. Parker, now finished with Stephanie’s haircut, came over to announce to Jackie that she would be next. “Oh, yay, how exciting!” Mama said, choosing different words than Jackie would have. She sprung into action, removing the bib from Jackie’s neck and picking her up from Kori’s mommy’s lap. Though she was carried some at home, Jackie always noticed that Mama loved to show off by carrying Jackie and any of the other babies she could as much as possible when she was in a more public setting. Here, Mama effortlessly brought her across the room and deposited her into the chair. “Still want what you mentioned in your email?” Ms. Parker asked. She and Mama were always careful not to ever expressly say what the haircut would be, so that Jackie never knew what she was getting until it was happening. Jackie wouldn’t have had any say in the decision no matter what, but not letting her know what was even happening to her was yet another way that Mama accentuated her helplessness to her. “Yes, please,” said Mama. “Alright then! Baby Jackie, this won’t hurt a bit.” Jackie knew that it wouldn’t physically hurt in the slightest, but her pride wasn’t as certain to be left unscathed. As was usually the case, she could only hope that the haircut would simply tidy up her current style. She wouldn’t have chosen to wear her hair that way, but at least she was used to it. Ms. Parker busied herself fastening the Hello Kitty smock around Jackie’s neck. She’d seen it before, but it always amazed her. They could easily have used a monotone smock like one would expect to find at most salons and Jackie very much doubted that she or any of the other babies who came into the shop would have felt that the smock made them feel particularly adult, especially given that they were all still sucking on their pacifiers during the haircuts. The more childish smock didn’t actually make Jackie feel any more babyish, but it was yet another illustration to her of the almost absurd lengths that Mama and the other caregivers went to ensure that she and the others never even came close to the trappings of adulthood. As Ms. Parker began using a spray bottle to moisten her hair, the new woman, Julia, came over and approached Mama, who had taken up one of the two seats closest to the chair to watch proceedings. “Mind if I sit?” she asked. “Oh, of course not. Nice to meet you,” Mama said, extending a hand for a handshake. “Have you and Jackie been coming here long?” “Well, Jackie has been coming here for about 5 years now, but I’ve only been bringing her for the last three or so.” “Oh, wow,” said Julia, sounding genuinely surprised. “That’s longer than I would have expected that Ms. Parker had even been doing this.” “Oh, you flatter me!” chimed Ms. Parker as she continued to run a comb through Jackie’s light brown hair. “I did my first one of these on Baby Tory on the second day I had the shop almost 20 years ago. I knew her mommy a little from a couple of kinky parties we had seen each other at along the way, and when I opened the shop she asked if she could bring Tory by. Back then it was just her so we did it after hours, but it just keeps growing!” “She’s been a baby for 20 years?” Julia asked. “Absolutely,” said Ms. Parker. “Wouldn’t know how to be a grown-up if she tried anymore.” “Wow! That’s crazy. I never knew things like this could last so long.” “Tell me about it,” said Mama, in a juicy tone that told Jackie that she was clearly turning to gossip mode. “When I first met Baby Jackie almost six years ago, I never would have guessed. Now I can’t imagine how boring life without having her would be.” Jackie was glad someone was entertained. She found her life to be incredibly boring, and the times when it wasn’t boring were usually much worse. “Wait, I thought you said you’ve only had her for three years?” Julia asked. “And who had her before if you knew her six years ago?” “Oh right, I should have explained,” said Mama. “Jackie calls me Mama now, but she used to call me Nanny. Right after she finished college, her parents decided that she wasn’t really turning out right and that they were better off just keeping her as the family baby. So they basically made her what you see here today. For a little while, her Mommy stayed home with her, but eventually she wanted to go back to work, so they hired me to be her Nanny. I didn’t exactly know what I was getting into in terms of a time commitment, but the pay was great and I loved getting to come up with ways to baby her as much as possible. So then, about three years ago, her parents came to me with a proposition. They definitely still wanted Jackie to be a baby, but they felt like having Jackie live at their house didn’t make sense anymore. She was basically always asleep when they were home except on the weekends, but having her there meant they couldn’t really travel without it being a major hassle. So we came to an agreement. They furnished my house with all of the stuff they already had, but kept all of Jackie’s stuff there too. They still pay me, actually more since it is 24/7 now, and Jackie usually spends a day or two on the weekends over there for a while so I still get some alone time. Plus, now we can coordinate it so that she goes over there for longer and I actually get to take some time off too. And I still love to find new ways to keep a big baby in line, so it’s great for me.” Jackie could see Julia looking at her now in the mirror. Though the story hadn’t really been about her as much as Mama, she still was blushing at her embarrassing role in it. Julia was nodding, seemingly taking it all in. “Seems like a good job,” she finally responded. “Best I’ve ever had,” said Mama. “I have to say, I was a little surprised when Ms. Parker said that you were their mommy, not their babysitter or something. How did you get into this?” As the conversation was continuing, Jackie was annoyed by a tugging at the back of her hair. She couldn’t see to be sure, but from the weight it felt like Ms. Parker was pulling her hair into tight curlers. Jackie was bemused by the thought of what that might wind up looking like, but the rare chance to overhear adult conversation kept her attention. “Well, it was really kind of an accident,” Julia started.... To be continued

*Describe:* The story is about a boy who has a perfect sister and they make a bet that makes him have to deal with his baby and maybe sissy treatment Chapter 01 It was a beautiful day at the Hill house. The sun shone brightly in the sky, illuminating every corner of the small house. A not very large family lived there: a teenager called Parker and his younger sister, Aniyah. Parker was a young man of average height, not very athletic, stubborn and clumsy. He had a condition that forced him to wear Goodnites, which made him even more insecure. Aniyah, a beautiful, fun-loving girl, was the definition of perfection in person. She had excellent grades at school, a busy social life and was very responsible for her age. That day, the girls' parents planned to go out partying for several weeks, leaving Parker and Aniyah alone at home. The two siblings had an insane feud between them, as siblings often do. They were in the living room, arguing about who was the best at a particular activity, when Parker had an idea. "Aniyah," he said, with a mischievous smile on his face, "let's settle this once and for all. Let's have a competition!" Aniyah, always willing to accept a challenge, looked at him curiously and said: "A competition? I like the idea, but it's not a competition without a prize. What do you think?" Parker scratched his head for a moment, thinking about the possibilities. "Well, I have a few ideas," he said hesitantly. "We could put money on the line, or maybe the winner gets a week without housework..." Aniyah interrupted, shaking her head. "These ideas are silly. I have a better idea. The loser will have to obey the winner and do whatever he tells them until our parents come back. What do you think?" Parker looked at her, surprised by the proposal. He knew his sister was intelligent and a strategist, but he hadn't expected her to suggest something so daring. However, he didn't want to back down. "All right," he said at last. "I accept the challenge. Let the competition begin!" The brothers stared at each other for a moment, each determined to show off their skills and prove that they were superior to the other. They decided that the first competition would be a bike race to the local park. They both ran out into the yard, grabbed their bikes and positioned themselves at the starting line. "Ready... Go!" Shouted Aniyah, and the two brothers pedaled with all their might. Parker, although clumsy, was determined, while Aniyah showed her skill and grace on the bike. The race was fierce, with the two brothers fighting for the lead. However, on the last stretch, Aniyah managed to overtake Parker and crossed the finish line in first place. She let out a shout of joy, knowing that she had conquered the challenge. Parker was aware that he would have to start obeying his sister as soon as he woke up that morning. During the night, he had put on his Spider-Man Goodnites, one of the baby diapers his mother had insisted he wear. Parker hated the feeling of wearing those diapers, but he had no choice. When he woke up, Parker felt his Goodnites get wet, as usual. He pulled down his pants, revealing the faded Spider-Man print on his diaper. Parker got out of bed, feeling uncomfortable as he knew he would have to face Aniyah. He wanted to go to the bathroom to change, but before he could leave the room, Aniyah came in and intercepted him. "Looks like we've got a wet diaper down there," teased Aniyah, with a mischievous smile on her lips. Parker blushed instantly, feeling embarrassed by the situation. He tried to leave the room, but Aniyah blocked his way, reinforcing her authority. "Let's see the damage, that's an order," said Aniyah, with a tone of superiority. Parker, in a mixture of resistance and embarrassment, retorted: "I don't have to show you." Aniyah laughed, reveling in her position of power. "My forgetful little brother, remember? You lost the bet, now you do whatever I want." Parker bit his lips, feeling helpless in the situation. He knew he had no choice but to give in to Aniyah's desire. With a resigned sigh, he allowed Aniyah to come closer. She bent down and pulled up her pajama pants, revealing her wet Goodnites. "Very good, little boy," said Aniyah, with a childish tone in her voice. Before adjusting her pants, she made a playful gesture, as if she were two years old. Parker felt extremely uncomfortable with the situation. He wondered how far Aniyah would go in her new position of power. However, he knew that he was obliged to obey her commands, as per the agreement. With the Goodnites duly replaced and his pants pulled up, Aniyah finished: "Little boy, you're just wet." Want Parker felt a mixture of shame and frustration. He knew he would have to face more challenges and humiliations as long as he wasat Aniyah's mercy. Author note Hi, this is Lola I've had a hard time with my story about Abigail and her stepmother I lost her with more than 30k on Wattpad and I'm going to have to respond and I got discouraged it was hard here it's business as usual but I've created a way to support myself Subscribe Star and Kofi https://subscribestar.adult/lola-bunny https://ko-fi.com/lolabunny2rabbit

We welcome your comments and criticisms. Prologue: A young girl named Abigail will have to deal with her stepmother for six months Chapter 01: Abigail was a beautiful, intelligent girl with bright blonde hair and a clever look in her eyes. She lived with her family, including her stepmother Lilian, who was a strong and dominant businesswoman. Lilian was about to marry Abigail's father, Mike, a man who traveled a lot for his work. Despite having an initially friendly relationship with Lilian and enjoying the moments they spent together, Abigail had a secret that worried her. Ever since her mother left when she was little, Abigail had suffered from the problem of wetting the bed at night. Her father reassured her that it was just a passing phase, and Lilian also tried to be understanding, but deep down she considered her immature and discreetly called her "baby" because she still didn't have proper bladder control.All of Lilian's cruel actions were hidden from Mike, always away from his eyes. Abigail felt helpless and feared what would happen when her father wasn't around to protect her. One evening, during a family dinner, Mike made an announcement that would change the course of everyone's lives. He revealed that his company would be opening a branch in another country and that he would need to move for six months to manage this new venture. Abigail sank into her chair at what her father said, but also felt a certain relief, as she knew that her stepmother wouldn't be staying at the house during this period. Before Abigail could get up and leave the table, her father asked her to stay and announced something that left her even more astonished. He said that, as the wedding between him and Lilian was approaching, and considering the closeness between Abigail and her stepmother, Lilian could look after her during his absence. Abigail lost consciousness for a moment, unable to process what was happening. Still half-stunned by the shock of her father's announcement, Abigail was still dizzy when Lilian broke the silence and said: "You wanted to go to bed at that time, didn't you, Abigail? I'll take you." Abigail wanted to refuse, but some part of her, perhaps the fear of confronting Lilian, made her agree. "Yes, let's go," she said, holding out her hand to Lilian, who promptly took it. The two went up the stairs together, arriving at Abigail's room. The room still bore traces of the girl's childhood, even though she had long since outgrown that phase. Toys scattered around the room, walls painted in pastel colors and a small closet full of children's clothes gave the place an atmosphere that no longer matched Abigail's age. Lílian selected an outfit for Abigail, chosen from among the pieces she had bought months ago, clothes that were more reminiscent of a child's style. She picked out a light blue sweater with floral prints. Abigail allowed Lilian to help her put it on, feeling uncomfortable. After covering Abigail with the blanket, Lilian approached and said, with a tone of veiled threat: "Little one, I have a deal for you. If you wake up dry tomorrow, I won't do anything to you. But if you wake up wet, there will be changes in this house." Abigail, aware that this was her only chance of avoiding trouble, decided to accept the deal. With a little hesitation, she murmured: "Yes.”

Sander is on a summer vacation ch1 Introduction: This is the story of a 19-year-old boy named Sander who had to go on vacation with his aunt and cousin at their summer house. He had hoped to be home alone while his folks went on a cruise. Sander is a little short for his age; he is 5'1" and has dark hair and blue-green eyes. He had an extremely feminine build and face. Many people mistook him for a girl. His aunt's name is Heidi, and his cuisine is Hanna. This is how it began. Chapter 1 Sander lay still in bed when the door to his room opened. The sound of steps came in as a hand touched his hair. "Good morning, sleepy head." sanders' mother said. He turned to his mother, who grabbed the duvet and dragged it off him. "Hey, stop!" "You must get up now; we're leaving in a few hours!" his mother said. "Yes, go away," he said. He became irritated as he thought about what he was being punished for. Imagine being punished simply because he was cheeky at a party. Is that so bad? Maybe it was silly to be drunk and flirt with the daughter of my father's boss, but he was punished for not being alone when my father was abroad. I got up and dressed. Downstairs, my parents awaited me for breakfast. "Hey, Junior! You finally got up! Make sure you have some breakfast; we are leaving soon." his father said. Sander went to make himself some breakfast and sat down with them. "I see you're still annoyed by your punishment, Sander. But, after your little stunt at the party you attended, which caused friction with my boss, I expect you to understand. Since we're having difficulty, your buddies will be urging you to do more nonsense. Therefore, you'll be living with your aunt Heidi." his father said. Mom smiled with care before she spoke. "Remember, you'll have a wonderful time with Aunt Heidi. It's been years since you've seen her. Your cousin Hanna will also be there, making it a cozy gathering. Hanna is a little older than you, but you used to have fun playing with her when you were younger. You two used to play house together; it was sweet. I think you had a small crush on her," his mother said with a big smile. Oh my god, Hanna! Will she also join us? Yes, I had a slight crush on her. We always played house together, but I was only about six or seven years old then. She wasn't especially nice to me, but she was beautiful! She always got what she wanted and made me dress girly and other such things. "No, Mom. Please. I promise not to have any house parties." "No, we don't trust you; it's happened too often, and that's final," his mother said, slightly irritated. My mother got furious. The way she stated it made me feel uneasy, even afraid. Then Mom grinned. I was still shivering while thinking about this tour. "Hello! Earth is calling Sander! I'm trying to get in touch with you." said his mom with more irritation. Sander snapped back to earth, "Oh yes, what is it, Mom?" "After finishing your meal, go to your room and pack your bags. Pack carefully, as you will be away for three weeks. After quite a while of packing, my mother entered my room and asked if I was ready. "Yes, I am." As we embarked on our journey to Aunt Heidi's, we settled into the car and prepared for the long drive ahead. Upon reaching our destination, we found Aunt Heidi outdoors, loading her luggage into her vehicle. When we emerged, I spotted Heidi. As she came closer, I could tell she was about to offer me a hug. I was taken aback because she was beautiful, especially for a woman in her late forties. She had a balanced figure, wearing trousers and a blouse. I thought she was in good shape, but I couldn't quite find the words to describe it. Her breasts had a great curve, and the blouse featured a lovely neckline. Her bra showcased her stunning figure, and I felt excited about our vacation. "Hello, Sander. It's great to see you again. It has been a long time, but you haven't grown much since I last saw you. I now understand why your mother needed a babysitter.” his aunt said with a slight smile. Heidi just gave me a somewhat mischievous look. I'm not sure what she's up to! I couldn't respond; I was stunned, but suddenly, my mother grabbed my arm. "But Sander, don't you say hello?" Mom murmured, "Hi, Heidi," and hugged her sister tightly. They stood and talked for quite a while. Dad, furious, honked from his car. He shouted, "We have to go now!" Mom kissed me on the cheek before getting into the car and leaving. Heidi approached me and circled. "Yes, then, it's the two of us, little one," she said. I struggled to lift my bag, which Dad had carried in and out of the car; Heidi noticed and came to help. "Shall I help you?" she said with a little mockingly look in her eyes. "No, I can do it myself; thanks!" I said, a little annoyed. Heidi stood beside me, and I could see her little smile. "No, this takes too much time," she said with a smirk of irritation. Heidi nudged him aside and lifted it as if it were a pillow. I was amazed; she seemed strong, I thought. At the same time, her lips parted. "Yes, it's good to exercise a little; you should try it a bit." his aunt said with a smile. He felt a sense of despair wash over him as he watched all the luggage being loaded inside. As he stood there, feeling forlorn, she walked up, locked eyes with him, and offered a small, reassuring smile. "Now we will just wait for Hanna. Isn't it great that she will also join us? It's perfect! You and she will have a great time together, just like in the old days.” she said with a smile. I looked up and saw a red car. I became focused as the vehicle came to a halt, the door opened, and those long, lovely legs appeared. A tight top made beautiful contours around her figure when she exited the car. Her full-size breasts strained against the tight top, and you could tell she wasn't wearing a bra since her nipples pressed against the cloth. As she stepped out of the car, he noticed tight-fitting shorts rubbing against her bum. He couldn't help but struggle to keep his dick calm. She was so sexy and appealing. The thoughts quickly shifted into a blissful trance; perhaps this wasn't a terrible vacation. Hanna was 24 years old, a little older than Sander, but we played a lot together when we lived side by side. She thought it was great fun playing with him, especially when he had to wear girly clothes. She had a way of always making him wear diapers. Sander always felt like she did it to humiliate him to the max, but she's probably outgrown that by now. Hanna said "hello" to her mother and then looked at Sander. She gazed at him for what seemed like an eternity, then her eyes narrowed, and she started to smile. She approached him, wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him. He felt her breasts press against him, and he closed his eyes slightly in pleasure before she released him and smiled. "I'm glad you'll be joining us, Sander. This will undoubtedly be an amazing summer, as you shall see," said Hanna with a big smile. She eventually retrieved her belongings. After everything was ready, we went to load the car. Heidi opened the door, and Sander noticed the car seat was covered with plastic. She gave me a sly glance. "I sometimes bring some special people to the cabin. There have been some mishaps in the car with them," his aunt said with a sly smile. Hanna giggled slightly at Sander's expression. He felt that his aunt's expression was off-putting. As he looked back at Hanna, she came with a pity-babyish look. "Maybe he should have had a car seat for the babies; I guess he must be right on the border of what is legal," said Hanna with a light laugh. Aunt Heidi gazed at me solemnly and offered a faint smile. “You're probably right, Hanna, but I don't have the opportunity to get it now, and Sander is a big kid now, aren't you? He was not a little boy in diapers, like when you were younger. I remember he always had wet diapers when he played house with you, Hanna," said his aunt with a big smile. He became so embarrassed by what they both said that he just looked out the window. We started driving, and Hanna and Sander talked about all they had done and what had happened since they moved several years ago. Hanna had some water bottles in her purse and asked if he wanted one. "So lovely, thanks. Because it was scorching outside, the water was perfectly normal—and quite refreshing. Summer vacation had commenced. She informed him that she had extensively studied over the previous year. She was relieved that it was summer vacation, that she would have more freedom, and that she could revisit her friends. He suddenly noticed that they were nearing a gas station but paid little attention to it as he leaned against the window, hoping to catch some sleep. Suddenly, Sander jolted awake, his body tense. Hanna glanced at him with wide eyes before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She looked down and noticed a dark line between his crotch and his pants that got darker. He didn't understand why or what had happened. No, he hadn't. She smiled slightly, but he didn't understand why or what had happened. He hadn't wet himself since. He was in diapers. Hanna suddenly yelled out. "Mom, I don't think Sander is that grown,” Hanna said in a tone of laughter. "What? What are you talking about, Hanna?” his aunt said. "Sander wet his pants." Hanna tried to hold back the laughing. He turned red, and I didn't know what to say. What had happened? "I thought that you were a big boy now, Sander. We'll be there soon. He has to wait until we arrive; there are only five minutes of driving left," said his aunt in a slightly irritated tone. As they veered off the busy main road, the car traveled down a secluded private road surrounded by towering trees. Suddenly, a stunning, tranquil lake came into view. They made a right turn and soon stopped the car. As he stepped out of the car, he was struck by the breathtaking sight of the lake. The summer house stood magnificently by the lake, showing grand and beautiful architecture. Its wide entrance welcomed guests, and a balcony offered a stunning lake view. A sizable annex was neighboring the main house, and a floating jetty extended into the water. Suddenly, Heidi came toward him. "Isn't it nice here? I think it's so peaceful here,” said his aunt as she looked at the lake. "Very nice," Sander mumbled as his aunt looked at him. "But Sander, is it something I should know about?" said his aunt with a slight concern in her look. My face flushed, and he comforted Aunt Heidi, saying, "It was just an accident." "Okay, kiddo. You'll have to come with me to change; you're soaking wet," his aunt said with a smile. He glanced downward and realized with dismay that he had entirely forgotten about the embarrassing accident he had just had. They were standing at the main entrance, which she had graciously unlocked for them to enter. Upon entering, they were greeted by a spacious hall where one could conveniently hang up jackets and change into shoes. Beyond the hall, a series of three doors stood in a row. He proceeded further inside, pausing at each door along the way. "The first door is my room, the second is a private room, and the third is yours. The bathroom is next door. You can shower while I collect the luggage. Hanna will sleep outside, in the annex," Aunt Heidi said. He entered the room assigned to him when he came out from the bathroom, wrapped in a large towel. It was a nice, decorated room with a large bed with steel bars in the front and back. His suitcase was open, so he found a T-shirt, boxers, and sweatpants. He was going to wear a pair of boxers when Hanna suddenly walked in. Hi, little one. I thought you were a big kid now. But I should have known; I always had you in diapers when I had fun with you. Always wet. And you were a little excited, too, I remember. Was it the diaper, or was it my breasts?” Hanna said mockingly. Her expression made him tense, so he responded with irritation. "Haven't you heard of knocking?" “No, I'm having a great time, sweet Sander. You would look beautiful in some cute feminine outfits, even more so now. The name Sandra suits you better as you've grown older.” said Hanna with a curious smile. She disappeared. As Sander stepped out, he saw Hanna lounging on a sunbed. She looked attractive lying on her stomach, wearing only tight shorts, with her top off. She was captivatingly beautiful. He couldn't look away despite feeling humiliated and angry by her actions. Suddenly, he heard her voice. "Come on, Sandra. Lay down next to me," Hanna said in a sweet voice. They both lay on their stomachs and started a small chatter. It was nice to hear how she was doing. Aunt Heidi called out to us after a long time on the sunbed. "Let's eat, kids," said Aunt Heidi. It was finally time to retire to bed after a delightful supper and a wonderful evening together. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading to his room. As he settled in, Hanna and Heidi bid him good night. Exhausted, he quickly drifted off to sleep.

Description An introverted volcanologist, Olivia, stumbles across a demon during a hike up a volcano. The demon of humiliation follows her and makes her do embarrassing things such as wetting herself and messing herself. Chapter 1: Olivia’s Volcano Trek in Montserrat The heat was stifling, even through the thick protective suit Olivia wore. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she ascended the jagged slopes of the Soufrière Hills volcano. The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur, a constant reminder of the volatile power slumbering beneath her feet. Yet, the danger was intoxicating. Olivia thrived on the adrenaline, the thrill of exploring the raw, untamed heart of the earth. Montserrat’s landscape was a testament to the volcano’s might. Lush rainforest abruptly gave way to barren ash fields, scarred by the fury of past eruptions. Olivia’s boots crunched on the brittle ground as she navigated the desolate terrain, her eyes scanning the landscape for signs of activity. Her instruments beeped and whirred, recording every subtle tremor, every shift in temperature, every whisper of the volcano’s breath. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ash fields, Olivia decided to make camp for the night. She settled down in a small depression, shielded from the wind by a jagged outcrop of rock. As darkness fell, she huddled closer to the fire, the flickering flames providing a small haven of warmth in the chilling night air. Suddenly, a bone-chilling cold enveloped her. The fire sputtered and died, plunging her into darkness. A sinister presence seemed to fill the air, a silent menace that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Then, she saw it. A figure emerged from the shadows, its form shimmering and shifting like the flames of a dying fire. It was short and gaunt, with eyes that burned like embers. Olivia gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. The figure moved closer, its eyes fixed on her with a malevolent intensity. Olivia tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or even breathe. The figure reached out, its hand glowing with an eerie light. It touched her forehead, and a wave of icy cold washed over her. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the figure vanished, leaving Olivia trembling and alone in the darkness. The rest of the night was a blur. Olivia stumbled back to base camp at first light, her mind reeling with the terrifying encounter. She boarded the plane home in a daze, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of fear. But the horror wasn’t over. As the plane soared through the clouds, Olivia felt a cold sensation creeping up her legs. She tried to ignore it, but it grew stronger, more insistent. Finally, in a moment of mortifying humiliation, she realised she had wet herself. She rushed to the nearest bathroom with her bag, luckily she carried a extra set of clothes for if she spilt something on herself. She quickly got unclothed, cleaned herself and put on the fresh pair of clothes before quickly stuffing her bag with the soiled pants and panties along with her other clothes. As Olivia stepped off the plane onto British soil, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still being watched. The unseen presence that had tormented her on the volcano seemed to have followed her home. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that her ordeal was far from over. Chapter 2: Arriving Home The taxi pulled up to the curb, its engine sputtering into silence. Olivia stepped out onto the familiar pavement, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the volcanic heat she had recently escaped. She lugged her heavy suitcase up the path, her keys jingling in her trembling hand. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door and stepped into the comforting darkness of her home. The house was silent, save for the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Olivia flicked on the light switch, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She dragged her suitcase into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, exhaustion washing over her. But the unease that had settled in her gut on the plane refused to dissipate. A cold dread clung to her like a second skin, a constant reminder of the unseen presence that haunted her. With a sigh, Olivia pushed herself off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen, hoping a cup of tea would soothe her frayed nerves. As she entered the brightly lit room, her heart lurched. There, perched casually on the kitchen counter, was the demon. It hadn’t changed. It was still the same gaunt figure, with eyes that burned like coals. It watched her with a chilling intensity, a smirk playing on its lips. Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Surprised to see me?” the demon purred, her voice like the rasp of dry leaves. Chapter 3: Olivia’s Not So Welcoming Guest “Aw, did I scare you wittle Olivia? Make you wet your panties like a baby on the plane?” the demon sneered, its voice dripping with malice. “Don’t worry, it’s only going to get worse. Maybe you’ll need these to keep you dry.” It held up an adult diaper, its own grotesque face leering from the front, surrounded by erupting volcanoes. Olivia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and fury. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” She clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with defiance. “This is wrong. You can’t just invade my life and humiliate me. I won’t let you!” “Such anger,” the demon murmured, feigning concern. “Is it because you can’t control your bladder, or is there something else troubling you, dear? Perhaps I can help alleviate your distress… if you’re willing to cooperate.” Olivia gasped, her legs trembling as she realized she was wetting herself again. “Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you want from me? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, just please stop this!” A dark shadow fell over the demon’s face as it spoke. “You will obey me, Olivia. You will wear the diapers, and you will do so without complaint. Failure to comply will result in… consequences.” Its voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Olivia’s voice trembled despite her defiant words. “No, no, no!” she cried, backing away from the demon. “I won’t do it! I refuse! You can’t make me wear those… those things. I’m not a baby anymore!” “Well, well, well,” the demon drawled, its voice thick with sarcasm. “Looks like someone needs a little assistance with their wardrobe.” It snapped its fingers, and Olivia found herself clad in the demon’s personalized diaper. “Voila! A fashion statement fit for a queen… or should I say, a baby?” The demon chortled, revelling in Olivia’s mortification. Olivia’s body shook with rage and humiliation as she futilely tugged at the diaper. “This is wrong!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the house. “You can’t do this to me! I’m not your plaything! You have no right!” The diaper was not coming off of her. “This is just the beginning, Olivia,” the demon cackled, its voice filled with glee. “You will wear this diaper as a constant reminder of your helplessness. And when you’ve had enough, when you’re broken and begging for release, then you may grovel at my feet for a changing.” With a final, mocking bow, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia trapped in her degrading predicament wearing just a diaper and t-shirt. Chapter 4: On Purpose The moment the demon vanished, a burning thirst overtook Olivia. Her throat felt like parchment, her mouth a desert. She stumbled to the kitchen, diaper crinkling, her hands shaking as she filled glass after glass with water, gulping it down desperately. A wave of nausea followed, a sickening realization dawning upon her. This was the demon’s game. The thirst, the diaper – it was all a cruel ploy to break her. And with the amount of water she’d consumed, she knew she’d soon be wetting her diaper. Olivia’s stomach churned as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Damn it, she thought, her voice catching in her throat. She had to find a way to avoid soiling this diaper. A walk, maybe? Fresh air might clear her head. She waddled into the living room, the diaper’s plastic crinkling with each awkward step. Reaching the stairs, she gripped the banister, hauling herself up one agonizing step at a time. In her bedroom, she grabbed a pair of jeans, relief flooding her as she managed to pull them up over the bulky diaper. But as soon as the zipper closed, the denim vanished, leaving her exposed once more. “No!” she cried, a sob escaping her lips. They were her favorite jeans, a soft, worn reminder of simpler times. Now, she was trapped in this infernal diaper, a prisoner in her own home. The thought of venturing outside, of facing the world’s judgment with a demon’s face plastered across her backside, on a diaper of all things, was unbearable. Despair washed over her, threatening to drown her in its icy depths. She needed a distraction, something to anchor her to reality. Spotting her old colouring book on the shelf, she snatched it up. Flipping through the pages, her eyes landed on a familiar image: a volcano, its slopes bathed in fiery reds and oranges. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Volcanoes used to be her passion, her refuge. Now, they were a symbol of her torment. The volcano on the coloring page stared back at Olivia, a mocking reminder of her predicament. Crayons in hand, she tried to focus, but her thoughts kept returning to the demon’s taunting words and the humiliating diaper encasing her. Each rustle of the plastic felt like a brand, a constant reminder of her helplessness. Desperate for a distraction, she dumped out a jigsaw puzzle, hoping the intricate pieces would occupy her mind. For a while, it worked. But as the image of a tranquil meadow began to take shape, a familiar pressure built in her bladder. Olivia squirmed, squeezing her thighs together, her focus shattering. The potty dance she’d outgrown decades ago made a reappearance, a desperate attempt to hold back the inevitable. But the urge became unbearable, a searing pain radiating through her lower abdomen. With a defeated sigh, Olivia released a tiny trickle, hoping to relieve the pressure and stop after. But the floodgates opened, and a warm steady stream poured into the diaper, she was soaking the absorbent padding on purpose. The heat spread through her groin and to her bum, a mix of shame and a strange, forbidden thrill. It was a surrender, a perverse fulfilment of the demon’s twisted desire. Olivia stood over the jigsaw puzzle, the sodden diaper clinging to her skin, a warm, but cold reminder of her degradation. The stench of urine filled her nostrils, a wave of shame washing over her. She couldn’t stay like this, wallowing in her own filth. With renewed determination, she tugged at the diaper’s fastenings, her nails digging into the unyielding plastic. A desperate trip to the kitchen yielded a pair of scissors, but even those proved useless against the demon’s magic. Trapped, defeated, she sank to the floor, the wet diaper chilling her princess parts. Never in her life had she felt so violated, so utterly helpless. Yet, a flicker of defiance remained. She wouldn’t let this demon break her. Returning to the puzzle, she forced her mind to focus on the remaining pieces. As the final piece clicked into place, a triumphant smile briefly touched her lips, quickly replaced by a gnawing hunger. Her stomach rumbled, demanding attention. The diaper squished and crinkled unpleasantly with each step as she made her way back to the kitchen. Wrenching open the fridge, she grabbed the container of prune stew she’d prepared before her trip. She devoured it greedily, the sweetness a temporary comfort. Avocado toast followed, the familiar routine offering a semblance of normalcy in this bizarre, degrading situation. Chapter 5: Uh oh… Olivia pushed away her empty plate, a wave of nausea replacing her hunger. As if summoned by her discomfort, the demon reappeared, a fresh diaper dangling from its bony fingers. “Ready to admit defeat, little one?” its voice oozed with smug satisfaction. “All it takes is a simple plea. Just ask nicely, and I’ll grant you the sweet relief of a clean diaper.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but defiance hardened her voice. “I’ll never beg you for anything,” she retorted. “Get me out of this diaper, now!” The demon’s smile widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Oh, but you belong in it, don’t you, Olivia?” It gestured towards the dampness spreading across her thighs. “You’ve already proven that.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet the demon’s taunting eyes. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her. “And here’s a little secret,” the demon continued, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That prune stew you just devoured? It’s going to make you… well, let’s just say you’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later. See you bright and early tomorrow, Olivia.” With a final, mocking chuckle, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia frozen in horror. The implications of its words hit her like a thunderbolt. She’d wet the diaper, and now… now she was going to soil it. The thought was unbearable, a new level of degradation she hadn’t anticipated. “No,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible. But it was too late. The demon was gone, and Olivia was left alone to face the consequences of her actions, her stomach churning with dread, shame and stew. Panic rising in her throat, Olivia bolted from the kitchen, her sodden diaper slapping against her thighs. She needed a plan, a way to escape this humiliating fate. But the demon’s words echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of her powerlessness. “You’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later.” Her frantic search for a solution led her to the bathroom, where she frantically rummaged through drawers and cabinets. Toilet paper, sanitary pads, even a plunger—nothing seemed capable of staving off the inevitable. A wave of nausea swept over her, a visceral reaction to the thought of soiling herself in front of the demon. She collapsed onto the cold tile floor, tears welling in her eyes. Was this really happening? Was this her life now, at the mercy of a sadistic demon and a humiliating diaper? Time seemed to warp and stretch as Olivia sat huddled on the bathroom floor, her mind a whirlwind of panic and humiliation. The initial wave of nausea subsided, replaced by a dull ache in her lower abdomen. She knew what was coming, but the thought of succumbing to the demon’s twisted game filled her with a visceral revulsion. Minutes turned into an agonizing eternity. The pressure in her bowels intensified, each gurgle a symphony of impending doom. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her legs trembled with the effort of holding back. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers digging into her thighs, a desperate attempt to maintain control. But it was a losing battle. With a defeated groan, Olivia finally relented, her body betraying her resolve. A warm, viscous substance oozed into the diaper, a sickening contrast to the chill of her fear-soaked skin. The stench filled the small bathroom, a pungent reminder of what she just did in her diaper. She buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body. The demon had won, for now. But deep within her, a spark of defiance remained, a tiny ember refusing to be extinguished. Exhaustion finally claimed Olivia, her body collapsing onto the bed, the soiled diaper a heavy, shameful weight against her skin. Sleep came fitfully, plagued by nightmares of the demon’s leering face and the suffocating stench of her own waste. Each toss and turn was a reminder of her predicament, the diaper chafing against her raw skin, a constant source of discomfort and humiliation. She had succumbed to the demon’s twisted game, her own actions fuelling its cruel amusement. The weight of her shame was crushing, a dark cloud suffocating her spirit. Yet, even in the depths of her despair, a flicker of defiance refused to die. This was not the end, she vowed silently. She would find a way to break free, to reclaim her dignity and her life. Chapter 6: You got me begging… Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom. Olivia stirred, a groan escaping her lips as she tried to stretch her cramped limbs. But something was amiss, a sticky warmth clinging to her skin, a foul odor invading her nostrils. Memories of the previous night flooded back, and a wave of nausea washed over her. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” a voice purred, its honeyed sweetness a jarring contrast to the demon’s grotesque form. Olivia jumped as her eyes snapped open, her gaze colliding with the demon perched on the edge of her bed. It wore a sickeningly cheerful grin, its eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “How was your night? Did you sleep well?” Olivia recoiled, pulling the soiled diaper closer to her body, a futile attempt to shield herself from the demon’s scrutiny. “Go away,” she croaked, her voice raspy from sleep and shame. “Oh, come on now, don’t be like that,” the demon chided, its voice dripping with mock concern. “We have so much to discuss. After all, it’s a big day for you, isn’t it? Your first full day in diapers.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. “Leave me alone,” she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. She tried to sit up, but the diaper’s weight and the lingering nausea held her back. “Oh, come on, Olivia,” the demon coaxed, its voice dripping with false sympathy. “You can’t stay in that dirty diaper all day. It’s uncomfortable, unsanitary, and… well, frankly, it smells awful.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The demon was right, of course. She desperately needed a change, but the thought of begging for it, of submitting to its twisted game, made her stomach churn. The demon leaned closer, its breath hot against Olivia’s skin. “Just ask me nicely, Olivia. Say the words, and I’ll grant you relief.” A war raged within Olivia. Pride and defiance battled against the overwhelming urge for cleanliness and comfort. Finally, her resolve crumbled. “Please,” she choked out, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. “Please change me.” The demon recoiled, its grin twisting into a sneer. “That’s not how you ask for a favor, Olivia,” it chided, its voice sharp as a whip. “Where’s the gratitude? The humility? The desperate plea for my mercy?” Olivia’s cheeks burned with renewed shame. She swallowed hard, the words sticking in her throat like jagged shards of glass. “Please,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, master, would you be so kind as to change my diaper?” The demon cocked its head, studying her with a critical eye. “Better,” it conceded, “but not quite there yet. You need to sound more… pathetic. More desperate. More like the helpless creature you’ve become.” Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes, her voice thick with emotion as she spoke. “Master, I am nothing without you,” she choked out. “I beg of you, please grant me this small mercy. I am filthy and unworthy, but I plead for your kindness. Please change my diaper.” The demon’s smile returned, a predatory glint in its eyes. “That’s more like it,” it purred, snapping its fingers. A fresh diaper materialized in its hand, its design identical to the soiled one. “I like it when the new ones beg for diapers. Now, be a good girl and lie still.” Olivia obeyed, her body trembling as the demon slowly and deliberately changed her diaper, its touch lingeringly cold and impersonal. “Could have just clicked my fingers,” it purred, its voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “But where’s the fun in that? A snap of my fingers, and poof! No mess, no fuss. But where’s the entertainment in that? Seeing you squirm, begging for my help… now that’s truly delightful.” The demon chuckled, a sound like nails scraping down a chalkboard, and held the soiled diaper up, the stench assaulting Olivia’s nose with renewed intensity. A cruel grin spread across the demon’s face. “Well, well, well, look at the state of you. Seems like you made quite a mess last night, didn’t you, little one? Perhaps you underestimated your ability to hold it. Or maybe you reveled in the mess a little too much, making a game of it all. You naughty little girl.” Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to spill over. The demon’s words were like acid, burning away her last shreds of dignity. The demon cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. With practiced ease, it used a wet wipe to clean her princess parts and her bum, its touch rough and impersonal. “Hold still,” it commanded, its voice devoid of any warmth. Once Olivia was clean, the demon barked, “Legs up!” and waited impatiently for her to comply. With trembling hands, Olivia lifted her legs, offering a brief glimpse of her exposed bum. The demon wasted no time, swiftly sliding the fresh diaper underneath her. It then sprinkled a layer of baby powder over her princess parts and bum, the cool powder a stark contrast to the burning shame radiating from her core. Finally, with a flourish, the demon lifted the front over crotch and snapped the diaper tapes into place, securing it snugly around her waist. “There you go, all clean and… well, relatively fresh,” it sneered, sniffing the old soiled diaper in the air with exaggerated disgust. “But remember, Olivia,” it added, its voice dripping with false sympathy, “accidents happen to the best of us, especially when they’re wearing diapers like a little baby. And when those accidents happen, you’ll know exactly how to beg for my… assistance.” The demon’s grin widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. As it leaned in close, its breath reeking of sulfur, it whispered, “And make sure you beg well, because the consequences for disobedience are… unpleasant, to say the least.” With a final, lingering stroke of her cheek, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia alone with the lingering stench of shame from her soiled diaper next to her and the chilling realization that this was only the beginning of her torment. Chapter 7: The Demon’s Assistant Despite the lingering trauma of the demon’s touch, Olivia found herself oddly relieved to be in a fresh diaper. The clean, dry sensation against her skin was a stark contrast to the soiled diaper that now lay discarded on the floor, a tangible reminder of her humiliation. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, the emotional turmoil of the past hours taking its toll. She crawled back under her covers, the fresh diaper a small comfort amidst the chaos. Sleep came easier this time, her dreams less haunted by the demon’s menacing presence. As the morning sun streamed through her window, Olivia woke with a renewed sense of determination. She wouldn’t let the demon control her life. She would find a way to break free from this twisted game, to reclaim her dignity and independence. A loud knocking at the door startled her, interrupting her thoughts. Could it be the demon again, so soon? She cautiously approached the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Olivia cautiously cracked open the front door, shielding her diaper-clad body from view. “Package for Olivia Parker?” a cheerful voice chirped. “Yes, thank you,” Olivia mumbled, snatching the box and swiftly closing the door. A wave of relief washed over her. Just some LED lights she’d ordered before her disastrous trip. A perfect distraction from her current predicament. Parcel tucked under her arm, she turned towards the stairs, only to be halted by another insistent knock. With a frustrated sigh, she set the box down and yanked open the door. “Lucille,” a woman declared, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, “the Demon’s assistant. I’ll be coming in now.” Before Olivia could protest, the woman swept past her, her movements a whirlwind of chiffon and perfume. “Excuse me!” Olivia sputtered, indignation rising in her throat. But her protest was cut short as the woman—Lucille—snapped her fingers. In a flash, a bright pink pacifier appeared in Olivia’s mouth, silencing her. She gagged, her fingers clawing at the plastic, but to no avail. The more she struggled, the tighter her mouth clamped around the pacifier, her own body betraying her. Humiliation flooded her as she realized she was now not only trapped in a diaper but also reduced to an infantile state with the pacifier. Lucille surveyed Olivia with a critical eye, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Well, well, well,” she drawled, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. “Looks like someone’s been a naughty girl. Didn’t your master teach you any manners?” Olivia glared at her through the pacifier, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She tried to speak, but the pacifier rendered her words into muffled, infantile gurgles. Lucille chuckled, a sound like wind chimes laced with venom. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head with a manicured hand. “I’m here to help you adjust to your new… lifestyle. The Demon has big plans for you, and I’m here to ensure you’re properly prepared.” She snapped her fingers again, and a mountain of baby supplies materialized in the middle of the living room: stacks of diapers, bottles filled with a milky liquid, jars of pureed food, and an assortment of pastel-colored toys. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as Lucille began unpacking the items, her movements efficient and practiced. “Now, now, don’t look so glum,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “This is just the beginning. You’re going to have so much fun with all these new toys, aren’t you, sweetie?” She picked up a rattle shaped like a volcano, shaking it enticingly in front of Olivia’s face. Olivia recoiled, her disgust evident even through the pacifier. This was a nightmare, a grotesque mockery of her life. But as Lucille continued to unpack the supplies, a chilling realization dawned on her. This wasn’t a temporary punishment; this was the demon’s vision for her future. A future filled with diapers, baby formula, baby food, and the constant presence of Lucille. Lucille perched herself on the arm of the sofa, her gaze fixed on Olivia like a scientist observing a lab specimen. “Now, Olivia, darling,” she began, her voice a sickeningly sweet melody, “let’s talk about our new arrangement.” Olivia, still struggling fruitlessly against the pacifier, let out a muffled growl of frustration. “Oh, hush now, there’s no need for that,” Lucille chided, her tone saccharine but her eyes cold. “I’m here to help you, after all.” She leaned forward, her words dripping with condescension. “From now on, I’ll be your… caregiver, shall we say? I’ll be in charge of all your needs – feeding, changing, playtime, even bath time.” A sly smile curled on her lips. “And of course, discipline when necessary. Maybe even rewards! However, the Demon expects complete obedience, you understand?” Olivia’s eyes widened in horror. This was worse than she could have imagined. Lucille, with her patronizing tone and condescending touch, was to be her constant companion, her jailer in this infantile prison. “Don’t worry, darling,” Lucille cooed, misinterpreting Olivia’s silence. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love your new life, with all its simple pleasures and childish delights.” She picked up a teddy bear from the pile of baby supplies, its beady eyes seeming to mock Olivia’s despair. Olivia shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. This was not her life, not who she was. She was a scientist, a volcanologist, a woman with a career and a future. But the pacifier in her mouth prevented any protest, any plea for reason. All she could do was watch helplessly as Lucille laid out the grim reality of her new, demeaning existence. Lucille reached out a manicured hand, her fingers pinching the pacifier between Olivia’s lips. With a swift tug, she removed it, a triumphant smirk on her face. “There now,” she purred. “Don’t you feel better already?” Olivia gasped, her lungs filling with air from her mouth for the first time in what felt like hours. “You can’t do this!” she cried, her voice hoarse with emotion. “This is wrong! It’s insane!” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Insane? Perhaps. But it’s also the Demon’s will, and as his humble servant, I’m merely following orders. Besides,” she added, her voice dripping with condescension, “you seem to be adjusting quite well already. Look at you, in your pretty little diaper, sucking on your pacifier like a good girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but anger fuelled her defiance. “I’m not a baby! I’m a grown woman, a scientist! This is degrading and humiliating!” Lucille shrugged, her expression nonchalant. “Oh, darling, we all have our roles to play in this grand cosmic drama. Yours just happens to be a bit more… infantile. But don’t worry, you’ll soon learn to embrace your new identity. And who knows,” she added with a wink, “you might even find that you enjoy it.” Olivia’s stomach churned with disgust. The thought of finding any pleasure in this twisted situation was abhorrent. But as she met Lucille’s gaze, a cold fear settled in her heart. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that this was just the beginning of her ordeal. The demon and its assistant had a plan for her, and she knew now that she was powerless to stop them. A sudden warmth spread through Olivia’s diaper, the familiar sensation of wetness bringing a fresh wave of humiliation. She looked up at Lucille, who wore a triumphant smirk, confirming Olivia’s worst fears. “See?” Lucille purred, her voice a chilling melody. “You can’t control it anymore, darling. One minute you’ll be playing with your toys, the next… whoops! A little accident. Such a shame for a grown woman, wouldn’t you agree?” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “But don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll get used to the constant wetness, the never-ending cycle of shame and dependency. Welcome to your new life, Olivia. It’s going to be a messy one, now that’s for sure.” The demon chuckles at her humiliation. Chapter 8: Who’s Humiliation? Yourmiliation. Olivia’s cheeks burned as the warmth spread through her diaper, a mixture of shame and anger coursing through her veins. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the pacifier quickly appeared in her mouth stifling any protest. Her eyes, filled with a mix of defiance and despair, locked onto Lucille’s mocking gaze. Lucille, sensing Olivia’s inner turmoil, continued her cruel taunts. “Oh, don’t be so glum, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head condescendingly. “It’s only pee, after all. It’s a natural bodily function, even for big girls like you. But now, you’ll have to rely on me, your ever-so-capable assistant, to clean up your little messes. How thrilling!” A wicked gleam entered Lucille’s eyes as she reached for a diaper bag overflowing with supplies. “Don’t worry, though,” she chirped, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “I’ve brought everything we need to keep you nice and dry. After all, we wouldn’t want your pretty little bottom getting sore, would we?” She paused, a sly smile spreading across her face. “But first, let’s see how well you can crawl. Maybe a little spanking will motivate you? A nice, firm reminder of the consequences for disobeying your new caretaker.” She tauntingly said as a menacing paddle appeared in her hand. The thought of being spanked like a child sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. She had always been fiercely independent, a woman who commanded respect in her field. Now, reduced to a crawling infant, she was at the mercy of this sadistic caretaker. With a heavy heart, she obeyed, lowering herself onto her hands and knees. The crinkling of the wet diaper against her skin was a constant reminder of her humiliation. “That’s a good girl,” Lucille praised, her voice laced with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Now crawl, Olivia. Show me how eager you are to please.” The assistant pointed towards a pile of diapers at the other end of the room, a wicked glint in her eye. Olivia, fuelled by a mix of shame and defiance, began to crawl, pacifier in mouth. Each movement rocked her wet diaper back and fourth against her princess parts, she felt herself getting hot and bothered. She wanted to reach inside of her diaper and touch herself, but she shook her head and gritted her teeth, focusing on the pile of diapers, a beacon of hope in this degrading ordeal. With each agonizing inch, she prayed for the strength to endure this humiliation, clinging to the belief that she would find a way to break free from this twisted game before she actually started to enjoy it. Lucille watched Olivia’s progress with a predatory grin. “Not bad, darling,” she purred. “But you could be faster. Remember, the quicker you get there, the quicker you’ll be out of that soggy mess.” Olivia’s muscles burned with exertion, but she pushed herself onward. The diaper, heavy with urine, rubbed against her sensitive skin, a constant reminder of her helplessness. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against the edge of a diaper package, a spark of hope igniting within her. But just as she was about to grasp it, Lucille’s foot came down on top of the package, pinning it to the floor. Olivia looked up, her eyes pleading for mercy, but Lucille only laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the room. “Not so fast, little one,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You haven’t earned your reward yet. A few more laps should do the trick.” She felt her heart flutter as well as her princess parts as she turned around. Olivia whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. She was exhausted, humiliated, and desperate for relief from the sodden diaper clinging to her skin. The smell of urine was overwhelming, filling her nostrils with each ragged breath. Lucille, however, seemed to revel in Olivia’s discomfort. “Aww, is the little baby feeling icky?” she cooed, her voice a sickening blend of mockery and amusement. “Did the naughty girl have an accident? Don’t worry, darling, a few more laps and you’ll be rewarded with a nice, fresh diaper. Or maybe you enjoy the feeling of that warm wetness against your skin?” Olivia’s face burned with shame and curiosity. Did Lucille know she was getting turned on? But she refused to give Lucille the satisfaction of seeing her cry. With a defiant snarl, she resumed her crawl, the soggy diaper squishing and rubbing against her parts more and more with every movement. Olivia let out a little moan as she crawled. As Olivia continued her humiliating crawl, a strange sensation began to emerge from the discomfort. The constant friction of the diaper against her sensitive skin, initially a source of irritation, was now sparking a warmth that spread through her lower body. Each movement, each shift of her hips, ignited a flicker of pleasure she hadn’t anticipated. A wave of confusion washed over her. She was disgusted by the situation, mortified by her own incontinence, yet her body was betraying her, responding to the forbidden stimulation with a growing warmth. She tried to suppress the feeling, to focus on the anger and humiliation, but the pleasure was insistent, a siren song luring her towards a dangerous precipice. Lucille, ever observant, noticed the subtle change in Olivia’s demeanor. A knowing smirk spread across her face. “Oh, I see,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone’s starting to enjoy herself. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little one.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace the sensation, darling. It’s only going to get better from here. Crawl faster!” The demon’s assistant clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the silent house. “Well, well, well,” she chirped, her voice dripping with feigned delight. “Looks like someone’s finally getting the hang of this. But we can’t have you dilly-dallying now, can we, darling? Pick up the pace! Your reward awaits, but only for those who earn it.” Olivia, caught between mortification and a growing sense of arousal, obeyed. She quickened her pace, her hands and knees hitting the floor with rhythmic thuds. The diaper, now saturated, clung to her like a second skin, the friction against her most intimate areas intensifying with each movement. She gritted her teeth, a low moan escaping her lips as the pleasure became almost unbearable. Lucille’s laughter filled the room, a cruel melody that fueled Olivia’s growing shame. “That’s it, darling,” she encouraged, her voice laced with a sadistic glee. “Crawl for me. Crawl like the good little baby you are. The faster you go, the sooner you’ll be rewarded. But remember,” she added with a menacing edge, “if you stop, the punishment will be severe.” Driven by a potent cocktail of humiliation, desperation, and a dark, forbidden pleasure, Olivia surged forward, her limbs moving faster than she thought possible. The room blurred around her, the only focus the pile of diapers looming closer with each frantic crawl. A tingling sensation built within her, a familiar pressure that she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, she reached the pile, collapsing onto the soft, absorbent mound. The dam finally broke, and a torrent of warm liquid flooded her diaper, she sucked on her pacifier harder as she squirted into the pee-soaked diaper closing her eyes with pleasure. A shudder wracked her body, a mix of shame and undeniable relief. She had lost control, given in to the demon’s twisted game, yet a part of her revelled in the orgasm she just had in her pissy diaper. Lucille clapped her hands, her laughter echoing through the room. “Bravo, Olivia!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such a good girl. Now, wasn’t that so much better than holding it in?” She leaned down, her face inches from Olivia’s, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “But remember, darling, this is just the beginning. There are so many more ways for you to please me. So many more messes for you to make.” Lucille pressed her hand against Olivia’s diaper, rubbing it firmly through the wet fabric. “And we’ll have a lot of fun cleaning them up together. Won’t we, little one?” Lucille, sensing Olivia’s heightened vulnerability, plucked the pacifier from her mouth with a triumphant flourish. “Well, well, well,” she cooed, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Someone seems to be enjoying her new reality. Tell me, Olivia, are you ready to be a good little girl and obey my every command?” Olivia, still flushed with pleasure and shame, nodded eagerly, her voice a high-pitched squeak. “Yes, yes!” she chirped, her words barely coherent. “I’ll be good, I promise!” Lucille chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’m sure you will, darling,” she purred. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” With practiced efficiency, Lucille peeled away the soiled diaper, a wave of embarrassment washing over Olivia as the stench filled the air. The demon’s assistant tutted disapprovingly, her eyes narrowing in disgust. “Someone’s been a messy little girl,” she scolded, her voice laced with sarcasm. Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame. The brief moment of pleasure had evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of humiliation and self-loathing. Disgusting. How could she have let herself get to that point? The smell of her own waste filled her nostrils, a constant reminder of her degradation. She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of the overflowing diaper a horrifying tableau burned into her mind. Had she really just gotten off on crawling around like a baby, whimpering for a diaper change? Shame radiated from her core, a sickening heat that threatened to consume her whole. But beneath the shame, a flicker of something else remained – a morbid curiosity, a twisted echo of the pleasure she had experienced. It was a terrifying realization, a seed of darkness planted in her mind by Lucille’s cruel game. The touch of the wet wipes against her skin snapped Olivia out of her momentary haze. Reality crashed back in, a harsh wave of disgust and despair. She gritted her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. This wasn’t her, this wasn’t who she was. But as Lucille fastened a fresh diaper around her waist, the crinkling of the plastic a stark reminder of her new reality, Olivia knew she was trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight. Chapter 9: Playing With Teddy The clean diaper did nothing to alleviate Olivia’s despair. The crinkling plastic only amplified her humiliation, a constant reminder of her infantilized state. As Lucille stepped back to admire her handiwork, Olivia’s mind raced, searching for a way out of this twisted game. “There,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “All clean and dry, just like a little baby.” She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Olivia’s face. “But you don’t seem very happy about it, darling. Is something wrong?” Olivia glared at her, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She wanted to scream, to curse, to lash out, but the pacifier in her mouth stifled any sound. Her only response was a defiant shake of her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Lucille’s smile faltered, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Oh, come now, Olivia,” she chided, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Don’t be difficult. We have so much fun planned for you today.” She gestured towards a pile of colorful clothes on the bed, a collection of frilly dresses and oversized t-shirts adorned with cartoon characters. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as she recognized the outfits. They were the epitome of childishness, the kind of clothes she hadn’t worn since she was a toddler. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her as she realized what Lucille had in store. “Now, darling,” Lucille purred, picking up a particularly garish pink dress with a matching bonnet. “Let’s get you dressed for the day. It’s time for you to embrace your new role, Olivia. The role of a sweet, innocent little girl.” Olivia shook her head violently, the pacifier bobbing against her lips as she let out a muffled protest. She would not wear those ridiculous clothes. She would not be reduced to a caricature of childhood innocence. Lucille’s patience was wearing thin. “Olivia,” she warned, her voice laced with steel. “Don’t make this difficult. Put on the dress, or I’ll have to find other ways to persuade you.” Olivia’s defiance wavered. She knew Lucille was capable of cruelty, of finding new and inventive ways to humiliate her. But the thought of parading around in those childish clothes was almost too much to bear. “Fine,” she mumbled through the pacifier, her voice barely audible. “I’ll wear the dress.” A triumphant smile spread across Lucille’s face. “That’s a good girl,” she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. “Now, let’s get you dressed and ready for playtime.” Olivia stood there, her head bowed in shame as Lucille helped her into the frilly pink dress. The fabric felt cheap and scratchy against her skin, a stark contrast to the comfortable clothes she was used to wearing. The bonnet, with its ridiculous oversized bow, was the final indignity. She felt like a clown, a mockery of her former self. As Lucille led Olivia towards the playpen, the plastic structure loomed before her like a miniature prison. The brightly colored bars mocked her with their childish cheerfulness, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile feeling that emanated from the interior. Inside, a collection of baby toys lay scattered on the floor, their plastic forms gleaming in the harsh light. Olivia knew what awaited her: forced playtime, infantile games designed to further humiliate her and chip away at her remaining sense of self. The playpen wasn’t just a confinement; it was a symbol of her new reality, a place where her mind and body would be moulded into something unrecognizable. Before leaving Olivia to her fate, Lucille produced a baby bottle filled with a milky white liquid. “Here you go, darling,” she chirped, thrusting the bottle into Olivia’s hands. “A little snack to keep you fueled during playtime. Make sure you finish it before I get back, or there will be consequences.” Olivia eyed the bottle with disgust. The thought of drinking baby formula, of being treated like an infant, made her stomach churn. But the memory of Lucille’s earlier threats was still fresh in her mind. She knew better than to disobey. “And remember,” Lucille added with a sly smile, “milk always makes babies need a diaper change. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself feeling a little… wet… soon. It’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?” She winked, a gesture that sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. With a final, mocking pat on the head, Lucille left Olivia alone in the playpen, the bottle of formula a heavy weight in her trembling hand. Olivia stared at the milky liquid, her mind racing. She had to find a way out of this, a way to escape the demon’s clutches and reclaim her life. But for now, she had to play along, to survive this twisted game until she could find a way to fight back. With a deep breath, she raised the bottle to her lips, the taste of the formula a bitter reminder of her powerlessness. The formula, surprisingly, wasn’t as repulsive as Olivia had anticipated. It was sweet, cloying, and left a sticky residue on her lips. As she drained the last few drops, a warmth spread through her lower abdomen. It was the familiar, dreaded feeling, the precursor to another humiliating episode of incontinence. She tried to hold it back, to clench her muscles and resist the urge, but it was futile. A warm trickle escaped, followed by a steady stream. The diaper quickly became saturated, the heavy, wet sensation a stark reminder of her helplessness. Just as Olivia was sinking into despair, the door creaked open. Lucille swept into the room, her eyes scanning Olivia with predatory interest. “Well, well, well,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone couldn’t hold her tinkles. Did the yummy milk make the baby girl tinkle in her diaper? Tell me what you’ve done little girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, a tear tracing a hot path down her cheek. Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely audible over the crinkling of the soaked diaper against her skin. “Y-yes,” she stammered her helplessness a bitter pill to swallow. “I wet myself. Please, I need a change.” Lucille’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “Oh, sweetie,” she crooned, her voice dripping with false sympathy, “did you forget already? It’s playtime now. Big girls need to learn patience, you know?” She gestured towards the scattered toys in the playpen, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Now, be a good girl and play with your toys. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll consider changing you after.” Lucille collected her things from the room and went away again. Olivia’s heart sank. She knew there was no point in arguing. The discomfort of the wet diaper was unbearable, but the fear of further humiliation was even worse. With a defeated sigh, she reached for a brightly colored rattle, her mind racing as she tried to devise a plan. She couldn’t stay like this, trapped in this infantile nightmare. There had to be a way out. Olivia halfheartedly shook the rattle, the hollow sound a mocking echo of her own emptiness. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – anger, humiliation, and a deep-seated fear that this was her new reality. But beneath those emotions, a spark of defiance remained, a refusal to completely surrender to the demon’s twisted game. As she played, her eyes darted around the room, searching for any potential escape route. The windows were too high, the door locked from the outside. Her gaze fell upon the diaper bag Lucille had brought in earlier. Perhaps there was something in there, a tool, a weapon, anything that could help her break free. Mustering all her courage, Olivia crawled towards the bag, her movements cautious and deliberate. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric. A surge of hope coursed through her veins. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she could escape this nightmare. With trembling fingers, Olivia unzipped the diaper bag, her heart pounding in her chest. The contents were a grotesque parody of a baby’s essentials: talcum powder, a tube of diaper rash cream, a handful of pacifiers, and a stack of brightly colored diapers. Olivia’s stomach churned as she realized there was nothing useful in the bag, nothing that could aid her escape. A sob escaped her lips as she slumped back against the playpen wall, a wave of despair washing over her. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own home, reduced to a helpless infant. The demon had won, and her life as she knew it was over. As if sensing her defeat, Lucille’s voice echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of her presence. “Having fun, Olivia?” she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. “Don’t worry, darling. The beginning is starting now. You’ll soon learn to love your new life, with all its messy little pleasures.” Olivia’s body tensed, her stomach clenching in response to Lucille’s taunting words. The formula, now churning in her belly, triggered a familiar urge, a pressure building within her. She tried to fight it, to hold back, but the demon’s influence was too strong. A solid mass of warmth flooded her diaper, the sensation a mix of relief and utter shame. She had lost control again, her body betraying her in the most humiliating way possible. The smell of her poop filled the playpen, a pungent reminder of her degradation. Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes as she whimpered softly. She was no longer just wet; she was filthy, a helpless infant adult wallowing in her own excrement. This was the lowest point of her life, a nadir of shame and despair. She had become the very thing the demon wanted her to be: a helpless, infantile creature, utterly dependent on its cruel whims. Lucille’s laughter echoed through the room, a cruel melody that twisted Olivia’s insides. “Oh, Olivia,” she cooed, her voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet tone, “what a mess you’ve made. But don’t worry, darling. We’ll take care of it.” With a snap of her fingers, Lucille conjured a new toy, a large, plush teddy bear with soft brown fur and innocent button eyes. The bear was oddly oversized for the playpen, its limbs sprawling across the limited space. “Look, Olivia,” Lucille purred, “a new friend to keep you company. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun together.” Lucille says as she snaps her fingers again, this time filling Olivia up with libido. As she spoke, an unsettling warmth began to spread through Olivia’s body. The sensation was different from the shame and disgust she had felt earlier. It was a warmth that tingled and pulsed, a growing heat that seemed to originate from her princess parts. Her eyes darted to the teddy bear, a new and unfamiliar desire taking root in her mind. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, let out a low chuckle. “Yes, darling,” she whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Let your imagination run wild. Play with your new friend, and don’t be afraid to explore your desires. After all, a little mess is nothing to be ashamed of, is it?” Lucille bumps up Olivia’s libido with a click of her fingers. The shame that had consumed Olivia moments before began to morph into something else, a tingling curiosity that pulsed through her princess parts and body. Her eyes remained locked on the teddy bear, its soft fur and inviting curves a stark contrast to the cold, sterile plastic of the playpen. Lucille’s words echoed in her mind, a tempting invitation to explore a forbidden realm. “Don’t be afraid to explore your desires,” she had said. And in that moment, a wave of rebellion surged through Olivia. If this was the life she was forced to live, she would find a way to make it her own, to carve out a sliver of pleasure from the humiliation. With a newfound determination, Olivia crawled towards the teddy bear, her eyes never leaving its plush form. She reached out, her fingers sinking into the soft fur, a shiver running down her spine. The sensation was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold, clinical touch of Lucille’s hands. Emboldened by the rising warmth within her, Olivia pulled herself onto the teddy bear, straddling its plush body. The diaper, already heavy with her excrement, shifted against her sensitive parts, the friction igniting a spark of pleasure that sent a jolt through her body. She gasped, her fingers tightening in the bear’s fur as she rocked against it, the forbidden sensation growing with each movement. Olivia’s body writhed in pleasure as she grinded against the giant teddy bear, the contents of her messy diaper rubbing against her pussy with each movement. The wetness and warmth of the padding only heightened her arousal, her clit throbbing with need. Lucille watched with a smirk on her face, enjoying the humiliation of the adult woman humping a stuffed animal in a wet and messy diaper and recorded her. “Well, well, well,” she taunted, “looks like someone’s enjoying their messy diaper a little too much.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny the pleasure coursing through her body. She pushed harder against the teddy, her orgasm building with each rub of the poopy wet diaper against her princess parts. Lucille leaned in, a playful smirk twisting her lips, “Someone’s already making quite the mess, aren’t they? And it’s about to get a different type of messy, isn’t it, wittle Olivia?” Her eyes sparkled with malicious delight, a hint of purring entering her tone. Olivia couldn’t hold back any longer, her climax hitting her like a wave. She cried out, her pussy pulsing with pleasure as she came into the wet and messy diaper. She continued grinding and grinding, its foul contents spreading further, while she had orgasm after orgasm until she lay against the teddy bear exhausted, but in ecstasy with a very messy diapered bottom. Lucille’s voicedripped with saccharine sweetness, a stark contrast to the cruel glint in her eyes. “Oh, Olivia, what a good girl you are!” she cooed, clapping her hands together in mock delight. “Look at the lovely present you left in your diaper. Such a big, smelly surprise and a sticky one too!” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?” she whispered, her voice laced with a perverse kind of satisfaction. “Such a dirty little baby, making a sticky mess like that. Mommy’s so pleased.” Olivia, already burdened with humiliation, felt a fresh wave of shame wash over her at Lucille’s twisted praise. Tears welled up in her eyes anew, not from the discomfort of the soiled diaper, but from the crushing weight of degradation. She had never felt so small, so utterly debased. “Please,” Olivia choked out, her voice barely a whisper, “just… just clean me up.” The words tasted like poison on her tongue, each syllable a surrender to the demon’s cruel game. Lucille’s smile widened, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “As you wish, my sticky little mess maker,” she purred, her voice laced with malicious glee. With deliberate slowness, she began to clean Olivia, her every touch a reminder of the scientist’s helplessness. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of her situation. But even with her eyes closed, she could still feel Lucille’s cold, mocking gaze upon her. The cleaning process was agonizingly slow, Lucille taking every opportunity to prolong Olivia’s torment. She cooed and praised Olivia’s “good behaviour,” her voice a grating symphony of condescension. Olivia, exhausted from humping her teddy, fell asleep during her diaper change. Chapter 10: Life Could Be A Dream (Finale) When Olivia awoke, she found herself not in her bed, but in a crib, its bars cold and unyielding against her touch. Panic flared as she realized she was locked in, the familiar surroundings of her bedroom warped and distorted by the dim light filtering through the slats. A desperate urge to pee gnawed at her, the sensation growing stronger with each passing moment. Olivia squirmed, her diaper rustling with her movements, but there was no escape. Tears welled up in her eyes as she succumbed to the inevitable, the warmth spreading through her diaper a humiliating reminder of her helplessness. The door creaked open, and Lucille entered, her silhouette framed by the dim light. Her eyes gleamed as she took in the sight of Olivia, trapped and soiled in the crib. “Ah, my little baby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Did you have an accident? Such a shame. But don’t worry, Mommy’s here to take care of you.” Olivia clenched her fists, her cheeks burning with shame and anger. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of defiance and desperation. Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “Not yet, my dear,” she purred. “First, we need to have a little chat.” She walked over to the crib, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back, her body pressed against the cold bars. Lucille leaned over the crib, her face mere inches from Olivia’s. “You see, Olivia,” she said, her voice soft and insidious, “this is your true nature. Helpless, dependent, in need of a mommy to change your dirty diaper.” Olivia’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a baby!” she hissed. “I’m a grown woman, a scientist!” Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “That’s what you think, my dear. But deep down, you crave this. You crave the comfort of a diaper, the security of being taken care of, the thrill of submission.” Olivia wanted to scream, to deny everything Lucille was saying, but the words died in her throat. A part of her, a small, insidious part, whispered in agreement. Lucille reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s diaper. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she purred. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” A strange sensation washed over Olivia, a mixture of shame, excitement, and surrender. She closed her eyes, her body trembling as Lucille unlatched the crib and lifted her out. “That’s it, my little baby,” Lucille crooned, her voice a hypnotic lullaby. “Let Mommy take care of you.” She carried Olivia to the desk, where the strange contraption hummed with an unsettling energy. Lucille placed a helmet on Olivia’s head, its cold metal pressing against her temples. “Now, my dear,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation. “Let’s explore your deepest desires together.” The world around Olivia dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, her consciousness slipping away into the realm of dreams. The chill of the helmet pressed against Olivia’s skin, plunging her into the swirling chaos of the dream realm. She found herself in a dimly lit classroom, the air thick with the scent of chalk and old books. Rows of wooden desks faced a blackboard covered in complex equations and diagrams. Olivia was seated at one of the desks, her legs dangling above the floor. She was wearing a school uniform, a pleated skirt and a white blouse, but the most noticeable feature was the thick diaper peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. A figure stood at the front of the classroom, a stern-looking woman with wire-rimmed glasses and a tight bun. It was Professor Lucille, her voice booming across the room as she lectured on the intricacies of quantum mechanics. “Now, Miss Olivia,” she said, her gaze fixing on Olivia with a disapproving frown. “Can you explain to the class the principles of quantum entanglement?” Olivia squirmed in her seat, her face flushed with embarrassment. She had no idea what quantum entanglement was, and the diaper bulging between her legs made it difficult to concentrate. “I… I don’t know, Professor,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. Professor Lucille sighed, a sound of exasperation mixed with a hint of amusement. “Of course you don’t, you silly girl,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve been too busy playing with your dollies and wetting your diaper.” A wave of shame washed over Olivia. She knew Professor Lucille was right; she had been neglecting her studies, her mind preoccupied with childish fantasies and the comfort of a full diaper. “But don’t worry, Olivia,” Professor Lucille continued, her voice taking on a seductive purr. “I’m here to help you. I’m here to teach you all about the wonders of science… and the joys of diaper submission.” She walked towards Olivia, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. Professor Lucille stopped beside Olivia’s desk, her hand reaching out to gently stroke Olivia’s hair. “You’re such a bright girl, Olivia,” she whispered. “But you need discipline. You need guidance. You need… a firm hand.” Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine, a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew what was coming, and a part of her, a dark, forbidden part, craved it. Professor Lucille stepped back, her gaze intense and unwavering. “Stand up, Olivia,” she commanded. Trembling, Olivia pushed herself up from her chair, her legs shaking beneath her. She was fully aware of the obscene sight she must have presented, her diaper sagging heavily between her legs, a wet patch spreading across the front. “Bend over your desk,” Professor Lucille instructed. Olivia did as she was told, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden desk as she leaned forward, her bottom thrust out. She could feel the cold air on her diaper, the material still damp from her earlier accidents. Professor Lucille moved behind her, her steps measured and deliberate. Olivia closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable. The first slap came down hard, the impact echoing through the classroom. Olivia gasped, her body jolting forward. The sharp pain radiated through her, a stark contrast to the comforting warmth of her diaper. Another slap followed, and another. Each one stung, the pain building with every strike. Olivia couldn’t help but moan, her body writhing beneath the assault. “Is this what you need, Olivia?” Professor Lucille asked, her voice thick with desire. “Discipline? Control?” “Yessss,” Olivia whimpered, the word barely audible. She was beyond shame now, beyond embarrassment. She was lost in the sensations, her body betraying her with each whimper and moan. Professor Lucille continued the spanking, each slap harder and more intense than the last. Olivia could feel her diaper growing even wetter, the heat from her punishment mixing with the warmth of her excretions and the heat from how horny she was getting. Eventually, Professor Lucille stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Olivia’s bottom and princess parts were a throbbing mess, her body aching with the abuse. “Very good, Olivia,” Professor Lucille said, her voice soft and comforting. “You have learned your lesson.” Olivia stayed bent over the desk, too exhausted to move. She could feel the trickle of wetness trailing down her legs, her diaper now thoroughly soaked and leaking. In that moment, she belonged to Professor Lucille. She was her student, her submissive, her plaything. She had surrendered herself completely, her body and her mind. And she had never felt so alive. Suddenly, the classroom vanished, the scent of chalk and the echoing lecture fading into oblivion. Olivia gasped, her eyes flying open as the helmet was removed from her head. The dream’s lingering warmth clung to her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of her bedroom. Lucille loomed over her, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Well, my dear,” she purred, “it seems you’ve discovered a hidden talent for academic submission.” Olivia recoiled, a wave of revulsion washing over her. The memory of her dream-self, the meek student eager for punishment, filled her with shame and disgust. “No,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “That’s not me. That’s not who I am.” Lucille chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension. “Don’t be so naive, Olivia,” she chided. “That is who you are, deep down. You crave authority, discipline, the thrill of surrendering to a dominant figure.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You’re wrong,” she insisted. “This is just a dream, a twisted fantasy you’ve implanted in my mind.” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh, is it?” she challenged. “Then why is your heart racing? Why are your cheeks flushed? Why can’t you deny the undeniable pleasure you felt in that classroom?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. The lingering warmth of the dream, the memory of Professor Lucille’s firm hand, the thrill of submission… it was all too real, too intoxicating. “This isn’t me,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. But even as she said the words, a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. Lucille leaned closer, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she whispered. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” The helmet descended once more, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Lucille’s touch. Olivia braced herself, unsure of what awaited her in the depths of her subconscious this time. The world dissolved into a dizzying vortex of colors and shapes, before solidifying into a starkly different scene. She found herself in a grand ballroom, chandeliers glittering overhead, the air filled with the strains of a waltz. But Olivia was not a guest at this elegant affair. She was dressed as a maid, her uniform crisp and starched, a frilly apron tied around her waist. A diaper peeked out from beneath her skirt, a stark reminder of her subservient role. Across the room, a figure stood out from the swirling crowd of dancers. It was Lady Lucille, resplendent in a flowing gown, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Olivia navigate the crowded room, a tray of champagne flutes balanced precariously in her hands. Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stumbled, her diaper rustling with her every movement. The guests snickered and whispered as she made her way towards Lady Lucille, her heart pounding in her chest. “Ah, there you are, my little maid,” Lady Lucille purred, her voice a seductive melody. “I see you’re having a bit of trouble with your duties.” Olivia lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I apologize, my lady,” she stammered. “I’ll be more careful next time.” Lady Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “No need to apologize, my dear,” she said, her voice softening. “Accidents happen, especially to clumsy little maids who can’t seem to keep their diapers dry.” Olivia’s face flushed crimson. She could feel the warmth spreading through her diaper, a humiliating reminder of her inadequacy. Lady Lucille reached out, her fingers gently lifting Olivia’s chin. “But don’t worry, my dear,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have a special task for you, a task that will require all of your… unique talents.” Lady Lucille led Olivia through the throng of dancers, her grip firm on Olivia’s arm. They reached a secluded alcove, hidden from the prying eyes of the guests. The air here was thick with the scent of perfume and something else, something primal and intoxicating. “You see, Olivia,” Lady Lucille began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I have a… particular interest in those who find pleasure in serving others. Those who revel in their own submission, who find joy in fulfilling their master’s every whim.” Olivia’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew where this was going, and a part of her, a part she had desperately tried to suppress, thrilled at the prospect. Lady Lucille’s hand trailed down Olivia’s arm, her fingers lingering on the curve of her hip. “I’ve heard whispers,” she continued, her voice a seductive purr, “of a brilliant scientist who has a secret, a hidden desire for something… more.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but she couldn’t deny the truth in Lady Lucille’s words. The dreams, the fantasies, the forbidden desires… they were all bubbling to the surface, threatening to consume her. “Don’t be afraid, Olivia,” Lady Lucille whispered, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace your desires. Embrace your submission. Embrace your diaper.” Her hand slipped under Olivia’s skirt, her fingers brushing against the damp warmth of the diaper. Olivia gasped, her body tensing, but a wave of pleasure washed over her, erasing all thoughts of resistance. Lady Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “There you are, my little pet,” she purred. “Let me show you how truly wonderful it can be to serve.” Lady Lucille’s fingers trailed along the wet fabric of the diaper, making Olivia shiver with desire. She could feel her heart racing, her breathing shallow and ragged as the older woman continued to touch her. “You like that, don’t you?” Lady Lucille murmured in her ear, her breath hot and heavy. “Feeling my fingers on your wet diaper?” Olivia could only nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. She had never felt anything like this before – the combination of shame, excitement, and arousal was intoxicating. Lady Lucille’s other hand reached up to caress Olivia’s breast, her thumb circling the nipple through the fabric of her dress. “Such a good girl,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “So eager to please, so willing to submit.” Olivia felt herself sinking deeper into the pleasure, her mind clouded with thoughts of servitude and desire. She wanted nothing more than to please Lady Lucille, to do whatever she asked of her. “Take off your panties,” Lady Lucille commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. “Let me see your diaper.” Olivia’s hands trembled as she obeyed, sliding her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. She stood there, exposed and vulnerable, her diaper on display for Lady Lucille to see. “Such a good girl,” Lady Lucille murmured again, her hand reaching down to stroke the wet fabric of the diaper. “So obedient, so eager to please.” Olivia felt herself melting under the older woman’s touch, her body trembling with pleasure. She had never felt anything like this before, never experienced such intense arousal and submission. “Now, go back to the party,” Lady Lucille said, her voice still firm but with a hint of amusement. “But remember, you belong to me now. You are my pet, my submissive, my little girl in diapers.” Olivia nodded, her mind still reeling with pleasure and desire. She turned and walked back to the party, her diaper wet and heavy between her legs, her mind focused on Lady Lucille and the new world of pleasure she had opened up for her. The opulent ballroom dissolved into a hazy blur, replaced by the stark familiarity of Olivia’s bedroom. The helmet was gone, the echo of Lady Lucille’s seductive voice fading into a distant memory. Olivia blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The sensation of the wet diaper between her legs remained, a tangible reminder of the dream’s intense reality. A wave of shame washed over her, followed by a pang of longing. She touched her cheeks, still flushed from the dream’s passionate encounter, and the denial rose within her. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head fiercely. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Yet, the memory of Lady Lucille’s touch, her whispered promises of pleasure and submission, lingered in Olivia’s mind like a tempting siren song. The logical part of her, the scientist, rebelled against these newfound desires. But another part, a darker, more primal aspect, yearned to succumb to the forbidden thrill. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “Still clinging to your illusions, my dear?” she asked, her voice a silky thread weaving through the silence. “Denial is a powerful tool, but it won’t shield you from the truth forever.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “This is wrong,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re manipulating me, twisting my mind.” Lucille tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Am I, Olivia?” she countered. “Or am I simply revealing what’s been hidden within you all along?” Olivia’s resolve wavered, her mind caught in a tug-of-war between reason and desire. She longed to believe that this was all a twisted game, a cruel trick played by a manipulative demon. But deep down, a gnawing doubt gnawed at her. “You’re lying,” she insisted, her voice a desperate plea for reassurance. “This isn’t who I am.” Lucille’s smile widened, her eyes glittering with triumph. “We’ll see about that, my dear,” she purred. “The night is young, and we have so much more to explore.” The helmet’s familiar weight settled upon Olivia’s head, and the world around her dissolved once more. This time, she found herself in a brightly lit playroom, filled with toys and colorful decorations. But the atmosphere was far from cheerful. Olivia was seated in a high chair, a bib tied around her neck, a half-eaten bowl of mush in front of her. She wore a baby blue onesie, and a thick diaper bulged between her legs. A stern-faced woman in a nanny uniform stood before her, a spoonful of mush hovering in the air. “Eat up, Olivia,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. “Big girls need to finish their dinner if they want to grow up strong and healthy.” Olivia scowled, pushing the spoon away with a petulant whine. “I don’t wanna,” she mumbled, her voice thick with defiance. Nanny Lucille’s smile tightened. “Oh, but you will,” she insisted, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “You’re a naughty little girl who needs to learn some manners. And I know just the way to teach you.” She set the spoon aside and reached for a wooden paddle hanging on the wall. Olivia’s eyes widened in alarm as Nanny Lucille approached, the paddle held menacingly in her hand. “This will teach you a lesson, young lady,” Nanny Lucille declared, her voice dripping with mock disapproval. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before disobeying your nanny.” The paddle connected with Olivia’s bottom, a sharp sting that sent a shockwave through her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, but a strange heat bloomed in her core, a mixture of pain, humiliation, and a forbidden thrill. Nanny Lucille continued her discipline, each strike of the paddle igniting a conflicting symphony of sensations within Olivia. She whimpered and cried, yet a part of her reveled in the punishment, her body responding with a growing warmth and a tingling arousal. “There, there,” Nanny Lucille cooed, her voice a soothing balm as she set the paddle aside. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, are you going to be a good girl and finish your dinner?” Olivia nodded meekly, her cheeks flushed with shame and a strange excitement. She opened her mouth as Nanny Lucille scooped up another spoonful of mush, a flicker of defiance still burning in her eyes, yet her body already yielding to the intoxicating power of submission. The playroom scene dissolved, leaving Olivia blinking in the dim light of her bedroom once more. The helmet was gone, the echo of Nanny Lucille’s stern voice and the sting of the paddle fading into a disturbing memory. She was still in her onesie, the diaper heavy and warm between her legs. The lingering sensation of the spanking, a mix of humiliation and a strange warmth, sent a shiver down her spine. “Well?” Lucille’s voice cut through the silence, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Did you enjoy your little lesson, my dear?” Olivia recoiled, her cheeks burning with shame and confusion. “No,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. “Oh, but it is, my dear,” she purred. “These are your dreams, Olivia. Your desires. Your fantasies.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with disbelief. “No,” she insisted. “This is just some twisted trick you’re playing on me. I’m not like this.” Lucille leaned closer, her eyes boring into Olivia’s. “Are you so sure?” she challenged. “Why else would you dream of such things? Why else would your body respond with such… enthusiasm?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. She couldn’t deny the strange pleasure she had experienced in the dream, the conflicting emotions that had stirred within her. Could Lucille be right? Were these truly her hidden desires, her deepest fantasies? “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. Embrace your little girl side.” Olivia opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. A part of her, a small, vulnerable part, yearned to believe Lucille. Yearned to surrender to the comfort and security of being a helpless little girl in a diaper. But another part of her, the scientist, the rational thinker, screamed in defiance. This couldn’t be her. This couldn’t be what she wanted. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “The choice is yours, my dear,” she purred. “You can continue to deny your true desires, or you can embrace them. The decision is yours.” The helmet’s familiar chill once again enveloped Olivia’s head, and her surroundings dissolved into a swirling vortex. This time, she found herself standing on a sun-drenched beach, the warm sand between her toes, the salty breeze tousling her hair. But something was different. Olivia was clad in a bright pink bikini, her body tanned and toned. Yet, beneath the skimpy fabric, a thick diaper bulged prominently, its outline unmistakable. A giggle escaped her lips as she ran towards the sparkling waves, the diaper crinkling with every step. A group of friends waved to her from the shore, their laughter echoing across the beach. Olivia plunged into the water, relishing the cool embrace of the ocean. But as she swam, a strange sensation spread through her diaper – a warmth, a wetness, a sense of fullness. Emerging from the waves, Olivia felt a pang of excitement mixed with a hint of embarrassment. She knew her diaper was soaked, but instead of shame, a thrill coursed through her veins. She waddled back to her friends, the diaper sagging heavily between her legs. To her surprise, her friends didn’t mock or tease her. Instead, they showered her with compliments, their eyes filled with admiration. “You look so cute in that diaper, Olivia!” one of them exclaimed. “It’s like you’re a little baby again.” Olivia giggled, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. The feeling of the wet diaper against her skin, the attention from her friends, the undeniable thrill of being babied – it was all so intoxicating. She spent the rest of the day playing in the sand, building sandcastles and splashing in the waves, her diaper growing heavier and messier with each passing hour. But the discomfort was outweighed by the sheer joy of embracing her newfound freedom, of reveling in the childish abandon that the diaper represented. As the sun began to set, Olivia’s friends gathered around her, their faces glowing with warmth and acceptance. “We love you, Olivia,” they chorused, their voices filled with genuine affection. “And we love your diapers.” Olivia beamed, her heart swelling with happiness. This was it, she realized. This was what she truly wanted. The freedom to embrace her childish side, to revel in the comfort and security of a diaper, to be loved and accepted for who she was, messy diaper and all. As the beach scene began to fade, a realization dawned upon Olivia. This wasn’t just a dream; it was a reflection of her deepest desires, her hidden yearnings. The joy she had felt, the acceptance, the pure, unadulterated pleasure of embracing her childish side – it was all real, all hers. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, paused mid-motion, the helmet hovering inches above her head. “What is it, my dear?” she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Olivia’s eyes snapped open, her gaze meeting Lucille’s with newfound clarity. The shame, the denial, the confusion – it all melted away, replaced by a sense of liberation. “I see it now,” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I see what you’ve been trying to show me all along.” A slow smile spread across Lucille’s face, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Do you, my dear?” she purred. “And what is it that you see?” Olivia took a deep breath, the words pouring out of her like a dam bursting. “I see that I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m not just a scientist, a rational thinker. I’m also a little girl, a playful, curious, sometimes messy little girl who loves her diapers.” Lucille nodded, her smile widening. “Yes, my dear,” she affirmed. “That’s exactly who you are.” Olivia continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I see that I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can embrace my desires, my fantasies, my love for diapers.” Lucille lowered the helmet, her touch gentle as she removed it from Olivia’s head. “You are free, Olivia,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. “Free to be yourself. Free to be the little girl you’ve always been.” Olivia smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up her face. She looked down at her diaper, no longer a source of shame, but a symbol of her newfound freedom. “Thank you, Lucille,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you for showing me the truth.” Lucille returned the smile, her eyes filled with affection. “You’re welcome, my dear,” she said. “Now, go and play. Be the little girl you were always meant to be.” And with that, Olivia, clad in her onesie and diaper, skipped out of the room, her heart filled with joy and a newfound sense of self-acceptance. A wave of euphoria washed over Olivia as she skipped down the hallway, her diaper swishing with every step. But as she rounded a corner, a sense of unease crept over her. The familiar decor of her house seemed off, the colors too vibrant, the proportions distorted. A chilling realization struck her: this wasn’t real. She was still dreaming, still trapped in the illusion crafted by Lucille’s insidious device. The joy she had felt moments ago turned to dread as she understood the implications. “Lucille!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the empty hallway. “This is a dream! I know it is!” A giggle echoed behind her, and Lucille materialized from the shadows, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Very clever, my dear,” she purred. “But even in your dreams, you can’t escape the truth.” Olivia whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of fear and defiance. Lucille raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, but you are out, my dear,” she countered. “You’re right where you belong.” With a flick of her wrist, Lucille removed the helmet from Olivia’s head. The dream world shattered, the vibrant colors fading into the familiar darkness of the bedroom. Olivia found herself back in the crib, her onesie damp and clinging to her skin. The realization of her predicament, the undeniable truth of her desires, hit her like a tidal wave. “No,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. “This can’t be real. This can’t be who I am.” Suddenly, the world around Olivia transformed once again, the familiar chill of the helmet pressing against her temples as she entered a new dream realm. This time, she found herself in a lavish bedroom, the air filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and musk. The room was dimly lit, casting a seductive glow over the scene unfolding before her. Lucille stood before her, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she gazed at Olivia with hunger in her eyes. Lucille was dressed in a sheer robe that barely concealed her curves, the fabric clinging to her skin in all the right places. Olivia’s heart raced at the sight, a mixture of desire and trepidation swirling inside her. “Welcome, my dear Olivia,” Lucille purred, her voice sending shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her. She was no longer the innocent student or in a classroom or a maid in a ball; she was now a willing participant in a seductive game of pleasure and submission. Lucille approached Olivia, her hand reaching out to caress Olivia’s cheek with a feather-light touch. Olivia’s skin tingled at the contact, her body responding to the intimate gesture. “You’re such a good girl, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her words a tantalizing promise of what was to come. “Let me take care of you.” With a deft movement, Lucille lowered Olivia to the plush bed, her hands expertly undoing Olivia’s clothing until she was left in nothing but her soaked diaper. Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal, a heady mix of emotions swirling inside her. Lucille’s touch was electric as she traced a path down Olivia’s body, her fingers dancing over the wet fabric of the diaper. Olivia couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, her body arching instinctively towards Lucille’s touch. “Such a naughty girl,” Lucille murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “Let’s see just how wet you can get for me.” With skillful fingers, Lucille began to rub Olivia’s pussy through the diaper, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Olivia’s lips. The fabric became slick with Olivia’s arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. But Lucille wasn’t done yet. She produced a vibrator, the buzzing sound filling the room with anticipation. Placing it against the soaked diaper, she teased Olivia with the vibrating sensation, driving her wild with need. Olivia’s hips moved involuntarily, aching for more stimulation, more release. Lucille watched with a wicked gleam in her eyes, enjoying the sight of Olivia squirming under her touch. “Such a good girl,” Lucille cooed, increasing the intensity of the vibrator against the soaked fabric. Olivia’s moans grew louder, her body on the edge of ecstasy. And then, with a devious smile, Lucille presented a giant teddy bear, its plush form inviting and enticing. She guided Olivia’s hips towards the bear, urging her to hump the soft toy with abandon. Olivia couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge, the combination of the vibrator, the soaked diaper, and the commanding presence of Lucille pushing her towards a mind-blowing climax. She rode the teddy bear with abandon, her body shaking with pleasure as she reached the peak of ecstasy. As Olivia’s body trembled with release, the sensations washing over her like a tidal wave, she felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had experienced before. In that moment, she let go of all inhibitions, all reservations, and surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of the dream. The room faded away as the helmet was lifted from Olivia’s head, leaving her breathless and exhilarated. The memory of the dream lingered, a potent mix of desire and arousal that left Olivia questioning everything she thought she knew about herself. Lucille leaned over the crib, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it is real, my dear,” she purred, echoing Olivia’s words from moments before she went into her dream. “And it is exactly who you are.” She reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s soaked diaper. “You see, Olivia,” she continued, her voice a soothing melody, “your tears, your denial, it was all part of the process. You were fighting against the truth, clinging to an outdated image of yourself.” Lucille’s touch sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine, a strange mixture of shame and pleasure. “But now,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “you’ve seen the light. You’ve experienced the joy, the freedom, the pure bliss of embracing your inner little girl.” Olivia’s gaze fell to her diaper, the physical manifestation of her surrender. A tear rolled down her cheek, but this time, it wasn’t a tear of despair. It was a tear of acceptance, of release. She had fought against the truth for so long, but now, finally, she understood. This was who she was, this was what she wanted. And as the tears streamed down her face, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was a little girl, a messy, playful, diaper-loving little girl. And she was finally home with Mummy Lucille. The End. You can read more of my stories on my deviantart page or my site.

Hello everyone, I've come to you today with a continuation of a story I've been authorized to co-author about Louise's difficult life. First a brief summary of the topic and then her new chapter, ⚠️ Triggers warning about: alcoholism Prologue Louise is sixteen years old and has a life that is very complicated by her height, often mistaken for a child, and her mother who was an alcoholic. Chapter 01 Louise is a sixteen year old teenager, Louise looks more like a child than a teenager, she has a body of four, she lives at home with her mother but her life is not easy, her father was a lawyer but when Louise was three years old her father was in a car accident and her mother never got over it and drank too much, her mother's name is Monica. Monica was a super good mother, she liked to go to her daughter's plays and read bedtime stories, but after her husband's death she drowned her sorrows in drink, she tried to stop drinking, her psychologist told her to find other things to do So Monica started looking on YouTube for things to knit, yôga, and cook but she saw a lot of diaper review videos and she wanted to do as well how she would make her daughter wear, At first Louise thought her mother was playing house with her, but as she grew up it was humiliating how much acting she had to do, and in her room she had everything a child needed, toys, teddy bears, dolls, and several diapers. Louise has already thought of running away from home but the resentment and fear of leaving her mother alone is too great and in a while she will be eighteen and she was going to leave home but until she washes the way and continues to play her mother's game Louise came home after a long day and Monica had answered the door and smelled alcohol and Monica spoke up: " let's shoot a video" that was the sign that she would be wearing diapers and then Monica said " someone wet their pants" she pulled up the front of her pants and threw water on them and now it looked like she had wet herself. Monica already had the camera in her hand and started recording and then he did the intro and said " today we went to the mall and Louise had a great time but when we almost got home she had an accident " he showed her wet pants and continued " she's not ready for potty training but now let's take a shower and go to bed "Louise had to leave wearing a princess bathrobe and her mother resumed the recording " guys I bought a new diaper for my little one let's see how it looks" she was taken to the room where Monica did the unboxing saying " this diaper with animal design, flexible fit and tape and that the child does not take off by itself the ideal consumption for those who have a smart baby". Then Monica laid her daughter down on the changing table, which they got at a fair for small children, she did the whole procedure and Louise was wearing the diaper that had a perfect fit and Monica said "we also have a beautiful pink jumpsuit with a zipper back and let's see how it looks". i Monica put it on and it also turned out well and she said "and there is one more thing, the formula that you will take today was also a gift" Monica went to the kitchen and brought the bottle Louise tasted strawberry and went to sleep Louise didn't know it but there were doses of diuretic in the formula and it was for children who have problems going to the bathroom. Chapter 02 Louise's heart sank as she realized that her mother would be going out for the day and a babysitter would be taking care of her. Normally, when a babysitter was around, Louise would hide her baby items and try to pass as a regular child. But this time, things were different. Louise was already wearing pajamas that required help to take off, and to make matters worse, her mother had given her a bottle of milk the night before, not knowing it contained a diuretic. As a result, she found herself in a wet diaper, adding to her discomfort and unease. Desperate for a way out of her predicament, Louise cautiously ventured out of her room, hoping to find something that would allow her to remove her pajamas and regain her sense of normalcy. However, as she turned the corner, she collided with a young woman with blonde hair and a warm smile. To Louise's surprise, the woman scooped her up in her arms and introduced herself as Megan, her nanny for the day. Megan's cheerful demeanor momentarily distracted Louise from her worries, but she couldn't help but wonder what was in store for her now. Gently cradling Louise, Megan reassured her, saying, "Little one, I'm Megan, your nanny. Haha, let's get you out of those clothes." With a nurturing touch, Megan carried Louise to the living room, where she spotted a pacifier and instinctively placed it in Louise's mouth. Aware of Louise's fondness for pacifiers from the videos her mother had recorded, Megan sought to make her feel comfortable. "I know you love these in the videos," she said with a playful tone. "Now, let's see if the baby food is ready." Louise's heart sank even further as she realized that she would have to play the role of a baby for the duration of Megan's presence. The realization weighed heavily on her, leaving her torn between her desire to be treated like a normal child and the reality she couldn't escape. Megan continued to cradle Louise in her arms, her smile unwavering as she grabbed her cellphone and started recording. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she began the video by announcing that she was going to take care of a special child that day, focusing the camera on Louise. In a playful tone, Megan revealed that Louise was famous for her videos, capturing the attention of viewers through her mother's recordings. She highlighted Louise's unique charm and the popularity she had gained in the online world. Although Louise had mixed feelings about being in the spotlight, she couldn't deny the impact her videos had made. Megan concluded the introduction by stating that she had accepted the babysitting job not because she enjoyed taking care of children, but because she saw it as an opportunity to record content with Louise and potentially boost her own channel's growth. It became apparent to Louise that Megan's motives were driven more by personal gain than genuine care for her well-being. With a swift touch on her cellphone screen, Megan ended the recording. She then shifted her attention back to Louise, gently placing her in a feeding chair positioned nearby. As she prepared Louise's breakfast, Megan shared her thoughts, admitting that babysitting wasn't her preferred line of work. Louise couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and confusion. She wondered if Megan truly understood her needs and if she would be able to provide the care and attention she longed for. The sudden realization that she was merely a means to an end for Megan's own ambitions left her feeling even more vulnerable and uncertain about what lay ahead. As the chapter drew to a close, Louise found herself grappling with a new set of emotions. She pondered the true intentions of those around her and questioned whether she would ever find someone who genuinely cared for her well-being, rather than using her for their own purposes. With a heavy heart, Louise prepared herself for the day ahead, uncertain of what would unfold and desperately longing for the return of her mother her's love and attention. These chapters were written by the original author and this is my part and I will continue to comment on them. Chapter 03 Louise was sitting in the high chair in the kitchen, eating the horrible porridge that her mother had invented and claimed in the videos to be her favorite. It was a peculiar invention that her mother had once made to attract a company looking for children to advertise. However, Louise had missed her chance, and now she was standing there, forced to eat that unpleasant concoction. She grimaced as she tasted the first piece. Megan, her nanny, sitting next to her, noticed the look on Louise's face and said compassionately: "It's really bad, love. Let's take your milk". In the videos that Monica, Louise's mother, posted online, she claimed that Louise didn't speak very well due to developmental problems. However, for a teenager who was wearing a wet diaper, the situation was even worse. As Megan got up to get the bottle of special formula for Louise, something caught her eye. On the can of formula, there was a discreet description, mentioning "small doses of diuretics". Louise frowned, confused. She pointed to the wet diaper and said: "Wet to...". Her voice faltered for a moment, but she wanted to express her need to be changed. The situation was childish and humiliating for Louise, but she knew that she needed to keep up the appearance of a baby so that her family would continue to receive money from the advertising company. Megan took the bottle and handed it to Louise, trying to ease the situation. Louise started to drink the liquid, but her head was full of dark thoughts. She was afraid of what the morning had in store for her. Gradually, the strange mixture of porridge and formula began to fill Louise's stomach. She felt a sense of unease and anxiety growing inside her. She knew she would have to face another day of pretending, of being treated like a helpless baby, when in fact she was a teenager with dreams and desires of her own. As she finished her bottle, Louise looked at Megan with worried eyes. She didn't know how to deal with this situation any longer. She wanted to be free to be herself, without having to submit to this cruel game. But for now, she had no choice but to resign herself and wait to see what the morning would bring. Megan picked Louise up in her arms and carried her into the bedroom. As a reluctant nanny, Megan didn't like looking after children at all. She had dreamed of becoming a successful blogger, but all her previous attempts had failed. However, a new opportunity had fallen into her lap. As Megan put Louise in the changing room, Louise knew that this wasn't the first time a nanny had had dark intentions. She had been through this before, and that feeling of vulnerability and fear was beginning to take hold of her again. Megan gently removed Louise's pyjamas, revealing her wet diaper.As Megan began to change Louise's diaper, she opened the door of the cupboard that stored the young girl's diapers. She took out a new packet from the Personality brand, which promised protection for up to 12 hours. A mischievous smile formed on Megan's face: "Let's do a test with the new diaper," she said, revealing her true intentions. Louise watched Megan's every move intently. She knew that this new diaper wasn't just an attempt to find the most efficient product. Megan was taking the opportunity to humiliate her and keep her trapped in this increasingly unbearable farce. With a lump in her throat, Louise held back her tears and prepared herself to face another day of pretending, of being treated like a baby when her wish was to be recognized as a teenager with dreams, desires and a voice of her own. Every step she took towards the living room was a painful reminder of her emotional prison.

BB’S Nursery and Day Care Chapter 1 It was 11pm on a Saturday night and Tommy had been a high school graduate for little over 9 hours having walked across the Townsfield High stage around earlier in the day. He was happy high school was over. He was happy to be off to college in a couple of months. He was also a bit drunk. His best and really only friend was leaving in the morning for Air Force basic training. His Friend Brad had always wanted to be a pilot and fly anything that the Air Force would let him. They shared that dream until it was obvious that Tommy would not be meeting any minimum physical requirements. Brad was 6’2”, athletic and super smart while Tommy stopped growing at 5’ unlike his father who was over 6 ft. tall. Not that Tommy wasn’t smart, he was, and he was also in good shape. He just didn’t fit the pilot mold. No amount of exercising was going to add those extra inches and he let that dream die last summer and buckled down on college. He did not begrudge his friend his dreams. He was very happy for Brad. Tommy learned to accept a different dream. If he couldn’t fly planes then he could go to school and learn to design them. Once the summer was over he was going to Stanford on a full ride scholarship that he worked his butt off to earn. There was a lot a school in front of him but it was exciting. Neither Brad nor Tommy had really ever drank before. Heavy drinking parties were not on the agenda for their future and they turned down most of the invitations or left early from the last semester’s parties. So Tommy was not aware of how several shots of stolen Tequila from the liquor cabinet in Brad's dad’s home office would slow down his reflexes and give him a slight fuzziness. He felt good, real good and did not notice any real impairment. Brad had to be up and on the way to the airport by 5am so they hugged it out, promised to e-mail when they could and Tommy headed home. Tommy drove well. Only a seasoned officer would have noticed anything and probably let it go. He lived in a small subdivision of nice homes on large lots and was close to home when the large grey tabby cat darted in front of him. Caught by surprise he swerved to the right and tapped the brakes. No problem. At least that was what he planned to do. He swerved to the right and instead of tapping the breaks he nicked the accelerator. The car, his Mom’s car, shot forward and into the adjacent yard. The impact with the curb yanked the wheel from his hands and the car slewed sideways. The car ripped through a long length of pristine white fencing, crushed all of Mrs. Nelson’s award winning roses, clipped the backend of the sky blue Mercedes parked in the driveway and came to an airbag deploying stop against a moderately sized oak tree. The cat watched the whole event with the detachment that only a cat can really display then sauntered off into the night not aware of, or caring about the life altering events it had just precipitated. Tommy was stunned first by the impact with the tree. Then the airbag went off. Both hit as one as far as Tommy ever remembered. He was stunned, not quite unconscious but only vaguely aware that the engine had shut off and the only real noise was the ticking of the engine and some hissing noise as the engine coolant leaked out on to hot engine parts. He was jerked into more awareness as his door was opened and the scared angry face of Mrs. Nelson appeared. Mrs. Nelson was just shutting off the living room lights in preparation for bed when she heard what sounded like a major collision happening in her front yard. She grabbed her phone and hurried to the front door. She stared in shock at how much damage could be done to her yard so quickly. Her rose bushes were flattened, the fence she and James Wilder built twelve years ago was in splinters and her car’s rear lights were smashed. She did not recognize the car in the dark poorly lighted yard. Steam billowed up from the engine as she approached the car. She was angry and scared as she looked through the window. The driver was still and it looked like blood was dripping from the driver’s forehead. She opened the door ready to yell at the driver. "What do you....." she started yelling. She never finished her sentence as the driver looked up at her and she knew that face well. Her anger was instantly replaced with concern. "Tommy" she gasped. "Tommy are you ok?" Tommy knew Mrs. Nelson well. She was a family friend. He spent many a summer hour mowing her lawn and doing odd jobs for her over the years. "I think so" he stuttered his head slowly clearing. Then he panicked. "Mrs. Nelson are you ok? I didn't hurt anybody did I?" he almost yelled. "No, my boy you only hurt some stuff. Nobody was around to be hurt." She replied with a slight smile. Just like Tommy to worry about others first. "Just stay still, don't try to get out of the car. You could be more hurt then you know". She reached for the phone but stopped short of dialing 911. Still far in the distance she could hear the sirens. Knowing her neighbors someone had called 911 before she could even leave the house. She pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his cut forehead and had him hold it tight. As the sirens grew louder she heard Tommy begin to sniffle a bit. "I'm so sorry about you flowers Mrs. Nelson, I know how much you love them". "It ok Tommy, they are only flowers. You are more important right now" she said giving him a peck on the cheek. The ambulance arrived first, followed by the fire truck and a police car. The paramedic gently but firmly pushed Mrs. Nelson out of the way as she tended to Tommy and started asking questions. Mrs. Nelson let herself fade to the back of the crowd. She had smelled the alcohol on Tommy’s breathe. She knew where this going to go. She headed into the house. Mrs. Nelson had a call to make and some preparations to take care of. She already knew what was needed to be done and got started right away. As the door shut behind her she thought about how tired she was of roses anyway. Might be time for some daisies and lilies. +++++++++++++++ James and his wife April were coming back from date night dinner, movie and some serious parking lot kissing and heavy petting. Both were looking forward to continuing the evening in the privacy and comfort of the bedroom. As the neared the house they could see the lights of a police car and an ambulance in front of Mrs. Nelsons house. You could see the shattered fence and flattened rose bushes. James thought to himself that the poor sorry bastard that did that was in for a world of hurt as Mrs.’s Nelson loved those flowers and the awards given out each year for the Counties best roses. James heard a gasp next him and April shouted “Stop the car, its Tommy!” Even before the car stopped moving April was out of the car and running to the ambulance. Tommy was visible sitting at the rear of the ambulance while a paramedic was holding something up to his forehead. April slipped by the police officer and the paramedic (like only a determined mother can) and was soon hugging her son to her chest and peppering the paramedic with questions about Tommy’s obviously cut forehead. James quickly parked the car and headed for the ambulance. Before he got there he heard Officer Benton call out “Mr. Wilder can I speak with you for a moment, Please?” James turned and waited as the police officer walked up to him. He knew Officer Rick Benton from bowling leagues James and April participated in over the years. He barely opened his mouth before Rick said “Relax, Tommy is ok, just a little cut from the airbag. Nobody else was involved, nobody else got hurt.” James shoulders slumped a little as the tension left him with a relived sigh. Continuing Rick said “You can take him home now but I need you to come back right away, we need to talk charges.” “What…why?” James stuttered shocked and scared all over again for his son. “When I got here there was strong smell of alcohol from Tommy, I had no option but to give him a breathalyzer test. He failed, just barely but he failed. Normally he would be ticketed for DUI, reckless driving and destruction of private property and maybe hauled in for the night, but Tommy has been very cooperative so that won’t be necessary” Rick said softly. “Drinking, Tommy? Are you sure? It does not sound like him.” James replied hoping that it was some big mistake. “This will sink his scholarship, everything he’s worked for” his voice rising in pitch as his stress and anxiety shot through the roof. “Calm down James” he said reaching out and grabbing James’s shoulder. “Everything is going to be ok. Take him home and come back and we can talk more.” James nodded, squared his shoulders and went and gathered up his wife and son in a big hug before leading them to the car and home. The ride home was silent and very short. April took Tommy to his room to get into some pajamas. Then after a quick trip to the bathroom he was tucked into his bed and due to the pain pills the paramedic gave him he was asleep almost before his Mom closed the bedroom door. ++++++++++++++++++++++ James quickly returned to Mrs. Nelson’s house. The ambulance was gone along with all the concerned neighbors. It was quiet as James entered the yard and saw both Rick and Mrs. Nelson talking on the house porch. Mrs. Nelson looked at James as he crossed the yard. She knew this next bit was going to be hard on James and she had already made arrangements in the house for after the police officer had left. “Good news James, Mrs. Nelson, and Judge Sanderson have already worked out a community service agreement” Rick said smiling. He loved it when something could worked out so that young people get a second chance without screwing their lives up first. “Tommy will need to work off the car repairs at some daycare Mrs. Nelson used to work for before she retired. After that any additional money will be toward fence repair. On the weekends Tommy will work as Mrs. Nelson’s gardener until the rose garden is either repaired or replaced. As long as the Judge hears a positive response from Mrs. Nelson by August 14 confirming that Tommy has met his obligations he will have all charges dropped. My understanding is that this will give Tommy 2 weeks to get Stanford and start his college life” Rick said slapping James on the back. “I have got to go but someone will around with the paperwork from the Judge sometime tomorrow. I will need everyone to sign it. Like I said everything will be ok James” He said cheerfully. As he walked away he stated “You must know the Judge well to call so late at night Mrs. Nelson. Must be a real friend.” “We worked together a long time ago when we graduated college together” she answered never taking her eyes from James’s face. As the cop car rolled away the tears started to fall from James’s eyes and their apparent age dipped with every tear. James’s voice rose in pitch as he cried “My Tommy, my baby, how could you do this to him?” Mrs. Nelson reached out and took him by the hand and gently led her into the house. “Let’s talk inside Janice, we do not need to be having this talk on the front porch” she said softly and gently like you would to an emotional child. Janice slipped a comforting thumb into her mouth and mumbled a sob filled “Ok, Nanny” and let herself be pulled into the house. When the front door was closed she gently guided Janice into the kitchen where she plucked a towel of the counter and large pink plastic baby bottle filled with milk from a bottle warmer. The milk was nicely warmed up from its frozen state. Once she knew it was Tommy that crashed into her yard she knew that Janice would need comforting and had removed a pouch of frozen breast milk she kept for these type occasions. The last such occasion being 2 years ago when James’s wife April had the breast cancer scare. Turned out to be benign but still caused several sleepless night before the diagnosis. She walked down a hallway and began unbuttoning her blouse as she went. “Janice, please follow me to the nursery” she called lightly over shoulder. Still sniffling and trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears she said “I’m coming Nanny” the voice sounding all world like a 5 year old girl. Mrs. Nelson entered the nursery and sat on the upper cushion of a two tiered couch. She had the couch made many years ago for Janice and herself. While she long ago stopped lactating the simple act of suckling was an important bond between them, Nanny and child. She laid her bra and blouse over the arm of the couch as Janice settled her large form onto the larger lower portion. Now fully in Nanny mode she guided Janice’s head to her chest and sighed as Janice’s mouth closed on her nipple. The soft gentle sucking motion calmed the child inside and soon the tears and the sniffling began to slow. Nanny stroked her hair and told her over and over “Everything was going to be alright baby, calm down sweetie, Nanny loves you” and other loving soothing words. The tears and the trembling finally stopped. “Are you thinking about Tina again?” a slight nod. Not ready to give up her comforting nipple to answer with words. “Tommy is not Tina, Tina came from a broken family, a horrible family. She decided that staying a baby was safer. She was so loved by her Nannies and taken care. She found people who loved her for the first time in her entire life. You know the program is very different now. After you and Tina we changed everything. Tommy will have a wonderful summer being Tammi Lee and I promise she will spend most of it as my little granddaughter. She will fine. I promise.” Nanny said as she gently stroked Janice’s cheek. “He will leave to Stanford and be Tommy through and through. A bit wiser and with a new prospective on women. But will be Tommy not Tammi.” A short pause and then “Are you ready for your Baba?” Janice let the nipple slip from her mouth. With a little smile she cooed “Yes Nanna, Baba..Baba”. Nanny smiled and held the bottle for Janice. Janice closed her eyes and started to drink the warm breast milk. It was comfort and peace. There were several wet nurse Nannies working for BB’s so getting fresh breast milk was never really an issue. Watching the child drinking her milk filled Nanny with the ever present worry of whether or not Janice would be able to pick up the outer layers of James again. This was not like two people living in the same body. At the heart of James was Janice, a five year girl (with some baby tendencies when feeling a lot of stress and anxieties) that can’t grow up. But Janice was smart, with a lot of practice and training and tears she was able to pull James around her like a coat and allow herself to be the grown up man she would have been if she never would have been sent to BB’s so long ago. She wanted more than being a five year old girl but couldn’t grow up. What was done to her so long ago locked her in place. But by wearing her James coat and pretending to grow up she was able to go to college and use her big brain to become an engineer. She even fell in love with April and had a family. It was a complicated balance of who she was before the regression, who she became at BB’s and who she wanted to be. All under the watchful eye of her Nanny. Janice was her responsibility and she would always be there for her. Always. When her bottle was finished Nanny used her towel to wipe a little slobber and milk from Janice’s lips and urged the child to sit up. “Mommy April will be mad when she finds out what you want to do to Tommy Nanny” she said quietly and with trepidation. “Don’t worry child, your mommy will be fine with it eventually. It will be my problem. You just be the supportive husband and father you always are.” “Yes, Nanny.” They got up and Mrs. Nelson slipped her blouse back on and buttoned it up. “Go ahead and kiss your friends good night, you need to get back home soon”. Janice clapped her hands together and skipped across her nursery. While she rarely needed to spend time in it anymore. It was undoubtedly hers. The last time she slept in the crib and was diapered for the evening was when Mommy April was diagnosed with cancer and Janice couldn’t face the thought of losing her Mommy/Wife. She regressed and needed an evening of being the baby without cares or worries. She reached into the overly large crib and pulled up a fairly beat up stuffed bear. It was her bear from before she became Janice. Her real mommy bought that for her when she was actually five years old and she loved it. It was a Smokey the bear stuffy. His hat and shovel were long gone to the years that have passed but the often repaired bear was very huggable. She hugged the bear and gave it a kiss and said “I luv you smokie.” She then tucked it back under the blanket and then picked up her Raggedy Ann doll. This doll was the doll she was forced to carry around long ago when she arrived at BB’s. She fell in love with it eventually. Annie became a friend and confidant over the years. She listened to problems and issues that Janice was not comfortable sharing with Smokie, some things just can’t be shared with boys. She hugged the doll close and whispered “Please take care of Tommy, I love him so much and want him to be the boy I could never be” louder she said “Goodnight Annie, luv you too.” Janice walked out of the nursery, slowly pulling on her James layers. She needed to get home. She had a wife that would need comforting and support for tomorrow. Back in the living room James leaned over and kissed Mrs. Nelson’s cheek. “Goodnight Edna, please take care of my Tommy” James whispered his voice already deepening. Using her first name was a bit of a ritual between them. Only James would be comfortable enough to use it. It was one of the harder things for Janice to do and it was one of the last layers of her James coat. “I will James. Give this card to your wife and tell her to be there tomorrow at 9am.” She said handing James a business card that read BB’s Nursery and Daycare and had the address and the name of the current Nursery Director Ms. Valentine. “The day care van will be there to pick up Tommy at 11:00 am. Take the time to reassure Tommy that everything will be ok. If you wish to tell him you went through something like this when you got in trouble with the law go ahead. Above all stress that it is important for him to do as he is told and things will go much easier for him. “Don’t give him any hints on what is coming. He won’t understand.” She reached up and stroked James‘s cheek and said “Don’t worry everything will be ok.” With that last statement she gently pushed him out the door. +++++++++++++++++++++ James walked home with a heavy heart. He was scared but he also knew that Nanny (always Nanny in his mind anyway) would take care of Tommy. He refused to let memories of those days at BB’s overwhelm him. He had to be strong for April. He opened the door and was immediately slammed into by a slightly hysterical April. “I have been waiting for you, what took so long?” she cried as she wrapped him up tight. He led her to the couch were they sat in almost a complete reverse of his time at Mrs. Nelson’s house. He held her tight and ran his fingers through her long blond hair. His turn give comfort and love. He kissed a few tears away. “Tommy failed his sobriety test. I guess he must have been drinking at some graduation event or something. Combine that with the accident and he is lucky he’s not spending the night in Jail” James states with a sigh. “I don’t believe it. Tommy is not some wild boy out drinking it up. They probably don’t know how use the damn breathalyzer. Just trying to make an example out a new high school graduate.” She spat venomously. “The test was administered by Rick. He is the only reason that Tommy is not downtown spending the night” James interjected before April could get deep into one of her patented diatribes. “He was going to be charged with a DUI, reckless driving and destruction of private property. Rick told me that they usually haul you in for the night.” “This will end his scholarship! Tommy will be devastated when he wakes up tomorrow.” She cried and started sobbing in James’s arms. Janice pulled her James coat tighter and held her as she wept. “Edna made a call and worked out a deal with Judge Sanderson. Tommy will need to do a summers worth of community service to pay off the property damages. He will have to work at some nursery and daycare Edna is part owner of. He will get paid wages which will be applied to what he owes. As long as he participates as directed the charges will be dropped and he will be off to Stanford. No record of any kind.” He said squeezing her tightly. “It won’t be a carefree easy summer but it beats the alternative.” April’s sobs slowly stopped and she said “Edna took care of it? She reached out on her own and took care of Tommy for us? God I love that women!” She paused and continued “You know I used to be jealous of Edna. You were always helping her out and spending time with her. I resented all the time she got with you that I didn’t. Over time I realized that you were good for each other and that she needed someone too.” She kissed James and smiled. “Let’s get some sleep. I will talk to Tommy in the morning and you need to meet Edna tomorrow at 9am. I left the business card on the table” He said pulling her to her feet. They moved through the house in a familiar routine. Checking doors, feeding the cat and shutting down the lights. Later they laid in bed in a familiar spoon position. Sleep came slowly for James as Janice’s fears needed to be tamped down again. She knew Tommy would be ok, Nanny promised. But she also knew it would be hard and weird for the boy. She also wanted to go see Tina but knew her grown up size and maleness confused her and she did want to upset her. He sighed and slipped into a dreamless sleep. +++++++++++++++++++ After James left Edna closed the door and sank to her knees. She felt a little badly for Tommy but he did break the law and damage her car. But those were minor issues. She had a growing problem and Tommy was going to be the answer. Leaning against the closed door she spilled more than a few tears of her own for the two boys whose lives they permanently changed so long ago. Janice and Tina was their responsibility even if it wasn’t truly their fault. If she ever found that bastard doctor that ran the experiment she would kill him. Damn the consequences! (This is Chapter 1. I hope to have many parts as we follow Tommy’s summer of fun and find out what happened to James/Janice and who Tina is. And see how April is going to react to Tommy becoming Tammi Lee. This is my first story and I appreciate any feedback (CCApril@Proton.me). I would also like to call out three of my favorite authors from Fictionmania/Daily Diaper. They have written great stories and inspired me to give it a shot. Thank you Mary Beth Sanford, Baby Sofia and Princess Phoebe. I hope you enjoy my stories a fraction as much as I have theirs. Also I have never played a psychologist on TV and I did not stay at a Holiday Inn last night. I’m just trying to write a fun story. If Janice/James personality is upsetting and/or its inaccuracy offends you please feel free to move on.)