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  1. Hey everyone! Welcome to Academy II, the final installment of Academy Works. The title is unlike previous installments, using a roman numeral instead of a letter. This is a play off Academy I, the first in the series, but it also has a few other meanings. You will quickly find that A2 is very different to the other stories! If you haven't read any Academy Works stories, there are six others in this universe. They are as follows: Academy I (Part 1), Academy B (Part 2), Academy T (Part 3), Academy K (Part 4), Academy A (Part 5), and Academy M (Part 6). Since this is the final book in the series, reading all of the previous ones will help you understand what's going on. I strongly encourage it. But if you want to jump right in on this one, I think you'll still have a good time. Thanks to all my readers and fans over the past few years. I hope this conclusion is everything you wanted it to be. You can support my work at this Patreon link, or this SubscribeStar link. ~Mia~ --------------------------------- Academy II will operate a bit differently than previous stories. Updates will be multiple chapters at once, with a bit of a twist. Please be patient and thoughtful with this new format. ❤️ Take it away, Soph. ---------------------------------
  2. Another old commission that I decided that I wanted to reupload here. And yes, it's Homestuck again. Sorry. ---------------------------------------------------- Padded Playdate It was playdate day in the Lalonde household, that meant Rose had company and her mother couldn’t have been more overjoyed. Rose however wasn’t that pleased. She stomped her feet, throwing a tantrum. After a short session over her mothers knee in which she promised to be a good girl, mom got her ready for her guests, replacing her diaper with a fresh one, and putting Rose in the appropriate clothing. Rose was currently wearing nothing more than a pink teeshirt and diaper when the doorbell rang. She ignored it as she continued to play with her new kitten. But Mom picked her up, making her walk to the door with her as she sucked grumpily on her pacifier. The big baby insisted that she did not need a playdate, but it was already too late as her Mom was greeting their guests. “Hello! Thank you so much for stopping by!” Her mother said, giving the man across from her in the doorway a friendly kiss on the cheek. “I see you brought John as well! Please come in!”. She said, leading Rose back to the living room now in the company of a boy with short spiky hair and glasses. John was wearing pretty much the same thing that Rose had on, a shirt and a diaper. “Now you two play nice while mommy and her friend make some snacks!” She said, disappearing into the kitchen with John’s dad, and leaving the pair of big babies alone in the living room. John gave Rose a big hug before sitting down on the floor to play with some building blocks, she reluctantly sat down and joined him, waiting for her mommy to come back from the kitchen. After a few minutes of playing with John, she looked up at hearing the sound of her mom’s voice. She laughing at something’s John’s dad has said. Ignoring the plate of cookies that she was carrying in her hands, Rose rushed over to her mother, wrapping her hands around her body. “Rose dear, if you want a cookie please be patient!”. All Rose really wanted was her mother’s attention, and she felt like she wasn’t giving it to her while she was in the company of another adult. Rose let go of her mother’s waist, taking a cookie as she sat back down on the floor next to John, who was happily eating his own cookie. “Sorry about Rose, she is particularly clingy!” Her mother would say, causing her blush. “Hehe, your face is red!” John commented, causing Rose to stare daggers at the boy. She quietly ate her cookie, looking back at her Mom from time to time. She was currently sat next John’s dad, taking with him quite intently. Rose watched as the man took her mother’s hand, which caused her to stand straight up and shout aloud. “Mommy, Mommy!” She jumped up and down in place, trying to get the woman’s attention. Her mother quickly turned to look at her daughter, her expression one of concern and curiosity. “What is it dear?” She asked, a little annoyed to see that there was nothing of immediate danger or wrong with the young adult. “Mommy I uhh… think I need a new diapee!” She exclaimed, hoping up at down. Her mother stood up and walked over to Rose. She reached her hand down between Rose’s legs as she felt the crotch and back up of her diaper. Her mother shook her head at Rose. “No, you a good dear, no accidents!”. She said, giving her a kiss on the forehead before turning around and sitting back down next to John’s father. Rose felt a little bit better after that kiss, and sat back down to playing with her toys again. Rose continued to play with John for a few more minutes, but found herself once again staring at the pair of parents sitting on the other side of the room. Rose couldn’t help but feel jealous of her mother. She was so protective of Rose that she felt like she was the only one she loved sometimes. Any other time Rose wouldn’t have been bothered to try and keep her mothers attention, but something about now was different. Rose watched as the man leaned into her mothers ear and whispered something into it. Her mother’s response was to laugh. Rose’s response was to cry, ad cry loud. “Rose, dear. What is the matter?”. Her mother said standing up from her seat on the couch. Rose had tears rolling down her eyes as she pounded the floor in front of her. John didn’t seem to pay any attention to the scene that was unfolding right next to him. Her mother picked her up, holding her face again her bosom as she attempted to calm down the infantile woman. “I’m sorry, she has just been very difficult today!” Rose said to John’s dad. He nodded as he understood himself, watching his own offspring on the floor keeping to himself. Roxanne bounced Rose up and down in her arms, giving her hair a stroke as she would shush her gently. “What is wrong dear, come on, you can tell your mommy!”. She said. Rose shook her head, a little calmer than before now that she was being held by her mother. Her hands grabbed needly at her mother’s shirt. “Mommy do you luv m-mee!?” She said, stiflingly her tears back as she buried her head into Roxanne’s shirt. Her mother stroked her head some more, confused about what her daughter meant. Her mother turned her chin up, looking down at Rose with a concerned look on her face. “Of course I do sweetie! What made you think I don’t?” She asked Rose. Rose lip quivered as she talked. “B-but you kissed him!” She said, pointing at John’s father. It suddenly clicked in her mothers mind what was the problem. She gave a smile down at her daughter, looking back at John’s dad with a smirk. “I see, little miss Rosie is a little jealous, huh?” Rose blushed at hearing the man’s words. Her mother nodded her head in agreement. “I think she is indeed!” She replied, giving Rose another kiss on the forehead. “If Mommy gets you another cookie will you promise to behave?” She asked Rose, giving her nose a touch with the tip of her index finger. Rose thought about it, in fact you could say that she thought a little too hard because before she could say anything the sound of something hissing filled the air. Looking down at her daughter’s diaper, she felt it become soggy and damp. “Well, let’s get you a new diaper first dear…” She said with a giggle. “You don’t mind, I’ll be right back” She said to John’s father. He waved her off with a thumbs up, letting the pair move upstairs to the bathroom so that Rose could get a new diaper and hopefully her mom could have a talk with her about behaving while there was guests around. After a few minutes had past, John’s father took up the newspaper, knowing that his son wouldn’t get into any trouble while he was sitting in the same room. He was just turning to the comics page when he heard Roxanne shout out from up the stairs, followed by the pattering of feet coming towards them. Rose rounded the corner, only wearing her teeshirt as her diaper was missing from her lower half. She came up to John’s dad, looking at him with a grumpy expression. “Is there something I can help you with, young lady?” He asked Rose. The young adult was just about to respond but was cut off by Mom quickly coming down the stairs to stand behind her. “Right, that is it!” She said, scooping up her daughter. “You have been very bad today!” Her mother said in a stern voice. Rose gave a struggle, crying out as she picked up and placed over her mothers knee. “Mommy no!” She exclaimed. But there was nothing that she could do to stop Roxanne delivering a hard smack to her bottom, to which she gave a loud yelp. “I’m going to have to cut this playdate short, I’m sorry.” She said to John’s father. He was already helping John up as she was speaking. He gave a tip of his hat, walking John towards to the door. “Goodbye Rose!” John said, waving his hand at her as they left. Rose gave a humph, sticking out her tongue at him behind his back. She received another smack to her bottom, to which she out another cry.“I hope you are happy Rose!”. Her mother said, not realizing that in fact, yes Rose was happy. She had gotten what she wanted after all and that was her mother’s attention.
  3. Ill be alternating between this and "even heroes can be infantilzed." This is to explain how this works before I write the chapter this Saturday. The facless mother never visits those who are sinners. Only the innocent will know her malicious intent. The facless mother never harms, but instead crafts a world the child will hate. The children may think themselves adults. But soon they will find that once graced by the facless mother they are no more then children doomed in her neverland. ... hope yall enjoy. The first chapter is "disability"
  4. CDNI: Ch 1 I awoke to sun streaming through windows that weren't my own, in a bed that wasn't my own, in fact the only thing that was my own that I could see was my tank top and soaked night diaper. After a brief moment of internal panic my memories of the previous day reasserted themselves, I'm surprised it only took them that long, jetlag from an 11 hour flight is a bitch, worse than that time last summer I snuck one of aunt martha's jello shots. Note to self 1, I am a foreign exchange student, this will be my room for the year. I had been offered use of the older daughter's room, she still had 3 years of university left and was living on campus, but I had been sharing a room since I was 4 and would probably have more trouble adjusting if I also had to adjust to being alone in a room, so I am imposing on the hospitality of the younger daughter. Not a bad deal for me, she is super cute in a nerdy, tech girl way I like, not that I can say much on that front. While I like to think of myself as Lara Croft-ish, I know I look more like a young, female, Daniel Jackson. Early seasons Danny, not later on when his adventures had turned him into the hunkyist archeologist since Dr. Jones. Anyway, note to self 2, must aquire hydration. Long flights can make you thirsty as hell, and though I had drank a ton last night as evidenced by how soaked I am, I still needed a drink STAT, it's probably even the reason I woke up. Though usually back home I would get out of my wet nighttime garment and right into the shower, I desperately needed that water. Also I only vaguely remembered the house layout from last night's tour and there was no connected bath to this room. Alice was obviously awake as the bed across the room was empty, hopefully she wouldn't mind me walking around in my wet diaper too much for the short time it would take for me to chug a glass, and could then point me in the direction of the shower. Ok, standing, woah that's a headrush and a half. I am not looking forward to this again on the way home already. The door is slightly ajar, so my first choice: left or right. Squinting left I see two sets of stairs, kitchen is probably downstairs and that is my best bet for water, but where would Alice be? Well, if she was downstairs it would be easy, if not I could look for her or a shower after that life giving liquid. I turn the corner on the stairs and my poor bi heart goes into overdrive. Nerdy tech girl is jacked. Alice is gaming with some friends on her laptop in the living room at the bottom, flannel shirt open to a sports bra showing off her amazing abs, with an absolutely adorable set of cat ear headphones. She is, surprisingly, still wearing her diaper, a disposable I notice in contrast to my own cloth. She isn't one of the seven percent of people who have daytime incontinence so I am surprised she didn't change when she got up. My mother would pitch a fit if I was lounging around in my diaper like that. She looks up at my footsteps, "oi, this is my last match ya reprobates. Exchange sister is up and I'm showing her around before classes start." She smiles at me, making my damn traitor of a heart flutter again. "Give me five, ya? Coffee and kettle are still running, and mum made waffles before they left for work." she points to the kitchen I can now see on the other side of the stairs. No mention of my still diapered state, maybe that's just more normal here? Coffee and waffles are just what I needed, and I return to the living room feeling human again only for Alice to once again shock me. As she leads me to the shower she casually, obviously, wets her diaper. It hit's me like a truck. She had been waiting for me to wake up. Waiting for me before doing anything she would normally do, so that she can assist me in this strange, new home. "You can go first!" I stammer out, and she turns and looks at me quizzically. "I mean, you really didn't need to wait for me to get up, I could have waited a bit while you were in the shower so you could change, I've thrown off your whole schedule..." She stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's no worries. You didn't throw me off much at all. If I wanted to I could use the upstairs shower while you're down here, but I figured I would relax, do a poo while you shower and then shower and change myself. Then we can go out and I can show you 'round town." "Do a... In your diaper... While awake?" I was shocked, to say the least. I had never even considered using my diaper to wet when awake besides on long car trips. "Yah, that's probably a difference in cloth and disposable though, yah? Cloth that would be a right pain to clean off, reduce the lifespan of the diaper. Disposable though, you only get one use, and their pretty cheap but not free, best to get a full use out of them, least that's what Ma says. Shit, we didn't really think of that. That going to be uncomfortable for you?" Her reasoning, on thinking about it, was perfectly sound, and I told her it was fine. I figured I would quickly get used to it, it wasn't like I didn't have a few Sevens in my friend groups who would do the same and barely notice. She breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm probably more casual about it than most due to Melina and Leah, but it is pretty common among folks I know." "If you don't mind me asking, Melina and Leah?" "Oh, yah. Mel is my sister, in Uni to be a doctor, so 'bout seven years ago when she decided medicine was the field for her we all went full time with her for a year, didn't help I was barely fully trained at the time, had to train for a bit again after." This made sense, doctors never know when an emergency could leave them busy for hours at a time, so many of them stay in diapers full time. And with that timing Alice would have been fully trained only a year or two before that, I was an oddball at seven, most people aren't fully trained until ten-ish. "Leah is a Seven, my best friend for ages. For a lot of my life two of the most important people to me are diapered full time, so using them just isn't that weird to me." She shrugs, "anyway, shower's yours, holler if you need anything."
  5. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've decided to consolidate these little scenes into a single series of posts I'm calling Raising Husbands. New entries will appear on Patreon approximately two weeks before I post them here. _______ I do a lot of long stories (too long sometimes) and wanted to try something very short. I suspect I'll post a number of what I'm calling these short scenes, composed mostly of dialogue, in this universe I've created. Right now, I think each scene will be entirely episodic and not connected to the others. Enjoy! Date Night “What would you like to drink,” the waitress asked the two of them. “First bottle is on me,” Jess said, and ordered a Brunello. “Are we celebrating something,” Susie asked, happy Jess ordered a bottle much more expensive than what she would ever get for herself. “Of course we are: it’s Friday.” The waitress returned with the bottle and served two glasses. “Let’s drink to something,” Jess excitedly said, the glass in her hand seeming to make the weekend official. Susie raised her glass. “A toast: to babysitters.” “Damn right,” Jess laughed. “And another toast: to our husbands, without whom a Friday night out wouldn’t be nearly so special.” “Amen,” Susie added before taking another drink. “Been a hell of a week,” Jess said, shaking her head. “But it’s Friday, and Ryan is spending the night.” “Good for you. What time are you picking him up tomorrow?” “Not until lunch time.” “Ugh. Jealous. Well, I’m sure you’ve earned it.” “You don’t know the half of it,” Jess said. “Four times this week, and it’s only Friday.” “Four?” Susie was surprised but not shocked. Two was average for Jess, three not uncommon, but to have to give Ryan four spankings in a week? That was unusual. “How did he manage to get in so much trouble?” “The really amazing part is it wasn’t five. I try, seriously – you know I do – to give him a little leeway, but it’s like the seasons change and he turns into this crazy person who wants to argue over every little thing. First spanking was over making his bed, if you can believe that. At his age!” Susie didn’t see perfectly eye to eye with her friend on discipline. She knew Ryan could be a handful, but Jessica had a hair trigger on her hairbrush, and Ryan’s butt paid the price for it. “Just because he wouldn’t make the bed?” “Because of the attitude that went with it. He actually threw a pillow at me.” “You’re kidding!” “And as soon as he did it, his eyes were like saucers. He knew immediately how much trouble he was in. Why he can’t think one step ahead … anyway, it’s the same struggle as usual, trying to get him to stick to the chore chart.” “You know there’s an easier way,” Susie said knowingly, swirling the wine in her glass. “We’re just going to disagree about that,” Jess replied. “I mean, he’s yours, so you do what you think is right, but Jake is one spoiled …” As very close friends, they were comfortable with some gentle joshing. It was hardly the first time of the fiftieth they’d discussed this. “He’s not spoiled!” “You do everything for him.” “It’s not everything, and I just made a choice: I could spend as much time trying to get Jake to behave like you do with Ryan and still end up redoing whatever it is I asked him to do, or I could just do it myself in half the time.” “Fair enough. Who did you find to sit anyway?” “Liz is home for the weekend.” “Your neighbor’s daughter?” “Mhmm. She’s good with him. You know with his potty problems, well, not every sitter is willing to deal with that.” “Another problem spanking his bottom for him could help.” “It would not,” Susie said. “You always say that.” “It couldn’t hurt. Well, it wouldn’t hurt you, anyway,” Jess snickered “Leave my Jakey alone. He’s doing the best he can. You make it sound so much worse than it is. It’s not the end of the world.” Susie always underplayed how much of a problem it was, but it was true as far it went – it was a problem, and it caused other problems, but it wasn’t the end of the world that Jake still had potty issues at his age. “You're right. I’m sorry.” “So how did you get to four anyway,” Susie asked. Even if she didn’t agree with how strict her friend could be, she wasn’t judgmental about it. A lot of people, maybe even most, were pro-spanking where they lived, even if Jess was on the leading edge of the trend. Susie’s curiosity got the better of her. “Bathroom issues, as a matter of fact. In my life, I have never seen such a mess.” “What happened?” “I let him take a bath on his own. He’s been wanting to for a while and trying to convince me. We even did a trial run with me just sitting in the bathroom and him bathing himself. I finally relented and let him solo.” “Well, with you expecting him to do so much cleaning, why not clean himself,” Susie said with a chuckle. “How bad was it?” “Standing water on the floor. He said he was playing tidal wave.” “Ceiling leak?” “No, thank god. I yanked him out of the tub, sat down on the toilet and pulled him right over my knee. He was soaked, I was soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad at him.” “Maybe you should have waited until you had calmed down.” “O, trust me, I did. That was just a preview. All that did was start his crocodile tears, but when I told him, ‘We are going to clean up this mess, and then mommy is going to spank your bottom blue’ the real tears started. I mean, granted thinking ahead is not his strong suit, but what did he think was going to happen? He got a little taste of natural consequences, too.” “How’s that?” “The towels were soaked. He just had to endure being cold and naked.” Susie grimaced. “I think even I would’ve spanked Jakey if he did something like that, but don’t you think that was a little harsh?” “It was only five minutes. We got the worst of it cleaned up, and I went and got a towel from my bathroom. I warmed him up, we had a little talk, got him spanked and then straight into bed. I cleaned up the rest.” “I wish that were the sort of bathroom issue I was dealing with.” “What does his doctor say?” “To just keep working at it. It’s not …” Susie shook her head and pour another glass. “He just won’t do it away from home, and even if we are home, he won’t unless I’m there.” “Still?” Susie nodded. “He just holds it and holds it until he can’t anymore, and then he tries to hide what happened. His daycare says it can’t keep happening.” “What do they want you to do?” “Give him an enema every morning before I bring him in, which his doctor says is the worst possible thing to do. She says he won’t ever learn if we do that.” “What are the other options?” “There’s the surgery, but I don’t want to do that yet. That’s why I like Liz so much. She’s so good about handling the episodes. I mean, he trusts her so much more because of how good she is about it, she’s the only sitter he likes enough that he won’t cry when I leave. If only his daycare would be half as good about it.” “Maybe you need to find a new daycare.” “I’m not sure that would help; I could see that just making it more difficult with the new place and new people. And the episodes obviously bother the staff a whole lot more than they bother Jakey. Of course, that’s kinda the problem since he won’t tell them, but he does seem to like it there.” “Well, I know I keep coming back to this but you’ve tried rewarding Jake. Maybe it’s time…” “He’s doing his best, Jessica. Why you think that’s the solution to every problem …” “It’s how I was raised. I always knew I’d be a spanker. My mom was; she gave me spanking authority over my brothers when I was … I’m not sure, exactly. Anyway, I gave Billy a spanking just last week, too. Wasn’t even babysitting. I was just visiting, and he got told for the millionth time to stop running in the house and didn’t stop, so I snagged him right out of the air. Mom got the paddle from the kitchen and finished the job.” “I know it’s the preferred way these days,” Susie said. “I just don’t … I don’t like doing it. Guess I’m just a softie. And Jakey is so … it’s not like I’ve never spanked him.” “Well, I know you’ve given him a few swats before.” “That counts as a spanking.” “I’ve given Ryan that much for a warning.” “Jakey is more sensitive than Ryan. I mean, for heaven's sake, he’s too embarrassed to tell his daycare teacher he has a load in is pants. Give Jake a pop on the butt, and he full on sobs. Ryan lives his life like he’s the second coming of Tarzan. A pop on the butt doesn’t even get through to him.” “If only. That would have prevented the third and fourth trip he took over my knee this week.” “What happened?” “Toy store.” “Why were you buying him a toy if he was being such a pill all week?” “Carrots and sticks. I promised him if he did the dishes every night for one week without needing to be reminded, he could pick out a toy under $30. Just goes to prove he’s fully capable of remembering his chores without being told. He just doesn't because he doesn't want to.” “So toy store meltdown?” “Big time. I did my very best to calm him down. I told him we could pick a different chore for him to remember, something a little harder, and that could be his reward later. Nope. I showed him other toys. Nope.” “That’s a shame. Turning what should’ve been a nice outing into something you both regret.” “Yeah. I guess I should’ve just marched him out of there at the first whine instead of trying to salvage it … I just wanted to do something nice. Anyway, I gave him a warning swat on his reset button, and it didn’t even faze him. He paused for, like, half a second before just getting louder. Then I’m that woman in the toy store, telling him, ‘Do you want a toy, or do you want mommy to spank your naughty bottom in front of all these people?’” “Guess he didn’t choose the toy,” Susie surmised. “Doesn’t that sort of thing embarrass you?” “Spanking him in public? In another time and place, maybe, but the people at the toy store have to be used to it. I’m convinced that’s why there are three benches right in front of the store. And pretty much every woman has had that moment … What I do find is embarrassing is Ryan behaving that way. If only he were as embarrassed by his own behavior as he was by the consequences. I spank-marched him back into the mall, and that’s when he turned red and couldn’t stop stammering apologies.” “Poor little guy,” Susie commented. “I mean, I know he earned it, but it’s not entirely his fault.” “How is it not his fault,” Jess asked incredulously. “He has poor impulse control. Sometimes they just can’t help it until it’s too late.” “Right. How inconvenient for him that he always seems to remember to control his impulses right around the moment I’m unbuttoning his pants. That and when I refer to myself as ‘mommy’ is when he’s suddenly so modest and embarrassed.” Jessica shook her head. “Anyway, you know how it is. Some people stop to watch a public spanking or think it’s good for their own to watch as a warning; others just keep walking. Makes no difference. I took his pants down, got the paddle out of the diaper bag, and put him over my knee. He managed to keep his composure for about two swats.” “At least you left his diaper up.” “O no, that came down as well. Public or not, he needed a bare bottom spanking. I don’t care if he is 36. If that boy needs a bare bottom spanking, I’m gonna bare and spank that bottom likes he’s 20 years old.” “Hold on,” Susie said and took out her vibrating phone. A wide smile formed across her face, and she practically bounced in her seat in excitement. “Yes!” “What? Share!” “Jakey did it!” “Really? Aww. That’s great. What exactly happened?” “He just did it. Liz and him were playing with his cars, and he just filled his diaper right there.” “He didn’t go and hide first?” “Nope. Ugh, so proud.” Susie tapped on her phone and waited a few seconds for a reply. “And then when she asked him if he had anything to tell her, he actually told her what he’d done. Liz is a miracle worker! Any other sitter, he would’ve tried to hold it until he was in pain and then gone and hide. The only other person besides me he’ll just go around when he needs to is his mother, and not even me sometimes. I’m ordering more wine.” “Champagne. Let’s celebrate.” “Even better! Ya know, I think the last time I had champagne was when Jakey and I got married. His mother told me he was diaper-shy when we started negotiating, but I didn’t think we’d still be working on getting him over it for this long.” She let out a short sigh of contentment, flagged down their waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne. “Anyway,” she said as the waitress walked away, “you said four. That was only three.” “Sorry?” “You said the toy store incident led to spankings three and four, but that was only three.” “O. Well, I got him rediapered and walked him out of the mall, sans pants of course. He cried most of the way home, and he was quiet and sulky all through dinner. We were doing the dishes together, and as soon as we were done – can you believe this – he actually asked me if we could go back to the toy store the next day.” “You’re kidding.” “Not even a little. I explained natural consequences to him for about the billionth time and that he would not be getting a new toy this week, and that’s when meltdown number 2 started. I got the paddle right back out and bared him all over again, spanked his butt, and put him straight to bed after we had some cuddle time. To his credit, he did apologize the next day.” “You definitely got a willful one,” Susie remarked. “It’s why his mother wanted me to have him. She knew he’d need a firm hand.” “Who did you get to babysit tonight?” Susie asked because Ryan had a reputation in the neighborhood; it wasn’t so easy finding a sitter for him. “My mom.” “Hopefully he’s being an angel for her.” “Hopefully, but if history is any guide, he’s probably in a corner right now listening to Billy get a spanking and waiting for his turn. Those two get each other so wound up, it’s almost a certainty if they’re together for than an hour they’re going to get themselves in trouble.” “How old is Billy now?” “Twenty-six.” “Is your mom having any luck finding him a wife?” “it’s hard. He’s not exactly what women want in a husband these days.” “It’s so unfair. It’s not his fault he has a big penis.” Jess shrugged. “You know how much more work they can be, all the behavioral problems those men seem to have.” “I think that’s a myth. If they’re well trained by their moms and their wives keep up with the training and milk them regularly, I think they’re angels.” “Then do you want him? Mom’s been building up a pretty sweet dowry.” Susie blushed. “Um, no. Sorry. One's enough for me.” Their champagne arrived, and they raised their glasses. Jess toasted, “To Jakey. Let’s hope tonight was a breakthrough and his diaper shyness is a thing of the past.” Susie toasted, “To Ryan. May he one day go an entire week without needing a spanking.” Jessica finished her flute of champagne in a swallow. “That’s how a wife who doesn’t have to pick up her husband until lunch time drinks,” Susie joked. “Damn right. I guess we should order some food before we go back to my place.” Susie looked around the restaurant. How quiet and clean and civilized it was, not a man in sight. Much as she looked forward to telling Jakey how proud of him she was for using his diaper like a good boy, she didn’t want Break Night/Date Night to end too soon.
  6. Weaponised Incontinence in a World of Late Bloomers By Felix_Lewis Hi all, This is my first attempt at an ABDL story. It is written in Australian English, so be prepared for the term ‘nappies’ for diapers, and perhaps some Australian-local contexts and concepts. Any strange or common concepts will be explained in parenthesis. To figure out if you’re interested, I have here a short synopsis of what will be involved: This story takes place in an alternate present reality, where a mishandled global catastrophe created an embarrassing epigenetic condition for future peoples, causing most young adults to need nappies until they’re about 16-18. It follows the perspective of a nappy-free Nick, and his angst for his nappied and seemingly antagonistic step-sister, Laura (and all of her accidents). They’re in their last year of school, just trying to get through the popularity contest, mess, and expectations that come with it. This story features frequent messing and wetting, mainly from female characters. The plot, characters, and world are the main focus of the story, but if you’re doing the old “ctrl+f ‘poop’, ‘mess’, ‘wet’”, you’re also in the right place. There will be lots of messing and wetting scenes. If you do a ctrl+f search for “()” (back-to-back brackets), you will find the start of each wetting and messing scene. No missing them due to my verbosity, and no need for plot if that’s not your thing! Lastly, I apologise for any formatting oddities. This was written in a google doc and transferred over. If you point out something strange, I'll try to fix it! There are 6 “Parts” to the story, and I’ll be releasing it in these parts. I hope you enjoy! Prologue The rude chill brushed Barry’s brow, skimming by on a breath of wind which rode down the wide and dead street. The road in front of the hospital, which at this time would usually host a mess of cars and sirens, lay a barren in the cold, July fog. Leaves stirred in a lonely eddy. Barry had been standing in the silent line for near on an hour now, kept company in his now-permanent spot by the slow rustling of clothes and occasional cough - fits of spluttering which tore the line into a further frightened silence. Eyes would stare. His cloth mask kept him warm, although nurses - with only eyes visible through the all-encompassing scrubs - had come to hand out hot water bottles earlier. Barry had refused. He was young, and about as fat as eight years between his favourite pubs had let him become. He would be fine in a bit of cold. Those with the disease, though… Over two years since its inception, the fluttering illness had hitch-hiked eternal sneezes all across the wide globe. It wasn’t deadly, however. Barry had sat on the couch with it in the first few months, enjoying time off work between bags of chips and litres of cold water. Sure, it knocked you out for a week, tops, but barely a percent of a percent of people got anywhere close to death. It was a blow-over, everybody believed so. Then they found the side effects. It was almost funny when they first appeared. Funny, at the time, to lock people away in fear of a sickness just because a few pollies shat their pants. Barry chuckled against the fog, remembering the first Murdoch rag which blasted the MP who pissed himself on the open floor of Parliament. His hot breath steamed from his mask, and a voice behind him asked; “What’s funny?” Barry turned. A young woman stood behind him, her long hair tied into her scarf which wrapped around her mask, her hands held stiff in a long coat. He hoped that she was legitimately asking the question, rather than chiding him, because he was going to tell the story whether she thought him mad or not. “Who thought,” he said, already chuckling, “that a politician pissing themselves in Parliament would lead to this…” and he gestured about at the great nothingness that the morning peak had become. “A guy missed the pisser in Canberra, and it stops the whole world.” “It is a little crazy, isn’t it,” the woman nodded along, and craned to see the line stretching long behind her. “Masks, to lockdowns, to empty streets, vaccines...really got to figure out who was crazy, you know.” “I really figured out that I can’t stand my Dad,” Barry laughed, nodding along. “Every second thing from his mouth was some cry that the country had turned into a dictatorship. You’d think they were rolling tanks through town. I had to move out. Finally turned me into an adult.” “I found out that my Auntie was an anti-vaxxer,” the woman replied. “Never gave my cousins any jabs at all, it turns out. I should have known, from all of those Balinese statues she kept around the house. If she knew I was standing in this line...I tell you, she’s got the ingredients of this jab on speed-search.” “Ah, I know,” Barry smiled, but his positivity faded. Not a lot of people seemed to comprehend the risk of a life of uncontrollable bowels and bladders. The disease had evolved to make that a reality, somehow - although he hadn’t caught that mutated strain. They thought that it might even do worse, but the anti-vaxxer types would call anything of the sort fear-mongering. “Ah well,” he repeated, then, “ah fuck.” “I know,” the woman said, her eyes meeting Barry’s again. “I hope it works.” “Yeah, same…” he chuffed, and movement caught his eye. Ahead, people shuffled. The hospital doors had flown open in the long distance, and Barry could just make out the sign on the door. VACCINE CLINIC Those at the front of the line waddled in, orderly to the cold day. “I guess it’s time,” he turned, tipping his head to the lady. “You know,” she said, shuffling forward with him, “you’re probably the first stranger I’ve met in a year.” “I reckon I’m about the same,” he smiled, although not with his eyes, so the woman couldn’t see it. “Barry’s my name.” “Ingrid,” she nodded. Part 1 40 years later Chapter 1 Nick, feeling his knees crack, squatted to sit on the concrete steps under the near-spring sun, joining his mates with a sandwich in hand. They always sat here during lunch times, on the embankment steps which overlooked the school’s front oval. A too-aggressive game of footy bashed its way across the field, taking boys to the ground with feverish abandon. Lachie, his KFC chips slopping out of his mouth like a spent durry (cigarette), spluttered on his story. “...I mean, she was all over me at Michael’s last weekend.” “Mate, she was not,” Tom cut in. “I don’t know what planet you were on, space cadet.” “My rocket-ands crash landed on her hips mate, that was the planet,” Lachie insisted, then turned to Nick. “You saw, right?” “Saw what?” “Me and Christy!” Nick chuffed. He hadn’t actually seen anything happen. What he had seen, was Christy trying politely to make Lachie fuck off. “Yeah, nah, not sure about that one, champ.” Nick said, biting into his sandwich. “Maybe Johno knows something. Why don’t we ask him when she gets over here.” And he pointed towards the boy approaching, footy in hand. Being noticed by none other than Nick Petrios, Johno’s face raised a massive grin, and he waddled faster on over. “Nah, no way,” Tom said, standing to his full and unimpressive height. He yelled at the poor approaching boy through his curly, red hair. “Turn that crinkle butt around, piss pants. We’re not playing footy with waddlers.” Johno’s whole face fell, pulling his shoulders down with it. He pivoted meekly, taking his nappy-laden ass with him and back out to the oval. “Gee, Nick, you can’t just point at the babies! Then they think they can join.” Tom said. “Didn’t think he’d keep waddling-on over,” Nick shrugged. “The gaul to even look at us,” Lachie said, and gestured to his body. From his smoothly-cut, wiry-haired chin, to his barrel-like gut, his stone fists, and his notably napply-less shorts. Lachie was quite the statue, if the Romans were in the fashion of carving brick-shithouses. “Surprised he didn’t shit himself,” Tom added. “Or, maybe he did. Not our fault.” Nick laughed, although he thought Tom’s words were a bit too mean. It wasn’t their fault that the rest of their cohort hadn’t figured out when they needed to go to the toilet. That was, strangely, the norm for most until they got to 17, or even older. Nick had figured it out at the ripe age of fourteen, well before many of his peers, and driven by his sheer determination to be attractive to girls. Nobody who shat their pants was cool or hot - that fact just stood to reason. One of the infallible constants of the universe. Now, four years on and in Year 12, his flawless pants streak had gifted him a handy and tight friendship circle, something that was sacred and never to be breached. Hadn’t really given him the luck with the ladies like he thought it would, though. “Hi boys,” a voice came from behind. Nick turned, to see Cassie glide down the stairs, Luke and Emily in tow. Her long, dark hair shimmered to the sunlight as it flicked around her head. Her body moved to a wide-hipped gait, trapping Nick’s eyes in a pendulum. Beneath her skirt would be no nappy - not that Nick thought the boys would kick her out of the group even if she did wear one. Cassandra was too beautiful to be excluded from any cool clique. “Hey, Cass, maybe you can solve this one.” Lachie said, standing to greet her. “Oh, bloody hell, Lachie,” Tom palmed his face. “So, me and Chrissy at Michael’s party…” “The answer is no, Lachlan,” Cassie chided, strutting her long legs by him to sit on the lowest step. “She was not interested.” “Ah, poop,” he deflated. “Hey, speaking of poop…” Tom laughed, and pointed across the steps. Moving towards the group with purpose was Laura, Nick’s step-sister. Her school skirt puffed and bobbed atop the thick nappy underneath, giving the impression of wider hips than was humanly possible. Her strawberry hair, pulled into a messy bun, bounced with the waddle of her step. “She’s got a bloody towel between her legs,” Tom mocked. “Yeah, but she’s still hot,” Lachie nodded, thoughtful. “Oh, shut up with that,” Nick demanded - he wouldn’t hear it. “What happened to Christy-lust?” But in his head, he sighed, wondering just what was so important that Laura had to tell him now. Why did she always make a point of showing up when he was with his friends? “You might have a nappy to change, by the looks of it,” Tom nudged Nick. “You shut up, too,” Nick growled. Lachie heckled as Laura came within talking distance. “Resident changer is out for lunch. He’ll be on duty later.” And he laughed, nudging Tom. Laura, stern-faced as ever, planted her foot to the step and met it with a smirk. “You’re one to talk, Lachlan Fuller,” she beamed, “Still pissing the bed - not a mighty-high horse to yell down from.” Lachie’s whole body flushed red, and his brow furrowed. “I’d rather piss the bed than piss my pants in the bed,” he retorted. “Anything is better than getting dressed like a baby.” “Sure, fine, tell yourself that,” Laura rolled her eyes, landing them on Nick. “Dad says he’s picking us up from school tonight. Meet by the round-about at four.” That was so important? Nick grumbled to himself. We have the next class together, she could have just said it then…”I’ve got band anyway,” he said to her. “I don’t need a ride from your Dad.” “Alright, I’ll pass it on,” she said, turning immediately on her heel to leave. As she did so, the bell rang. --- Nick went to the toilet on his way to class, books carried precariously above the trough as he pissed into it. In the back of the bathroom sat a changing table, and a stand-up change place, which were both occupied by two boys in his year level, cleaning themselves up. Nick remembered those days - he’d hated it, lining up for ten minutes to get the royal service of pulling smushed shit out of your own ass-hairs. His determination was the one thing Nick was able to take real pride in, and the memory made him beam. His smile shone all the way to biology class, where he found Laura sitting front and centre before the teacher. His grin then faded. He shuffled into the almost-full room, taking his usual desk near the back left of the class. Here, next to the HVAC unit, the climate-controlled air blew away from him and into the class. This was the prime real-estate of each classroom, where the smells of dirty nappies and clouds of baby powder were magically blown away, never to bother him. Satisfied to be once more in his king’s throne, Neil pulled out his books, and followed the teacher’s notes. The class had been studying genetic theory in the past few weeks. Nick understood the concept of genes - that somebody had traits, which could be replicated, and made things in the body. But the mechanism of it? He stared at the whiteboard in despair, watching as diagrams slowly morphed into obscure satanic markings, devouring the wall in blackness. Each new word building on some concept which had already flown over his head minutes ago. Given time, Nick could figure this out, but in time with a class like this?... “And so, what do we call this kind of mutation?” Mr Caldwell asked, and Laura’s hand was the first raised. “Epigenetic,” she said. Epigenetic? Nick coughed. Where the fuck did the ‘epi’ come from? “Caused by an outside influence changing a gene expression,” she continued. Gene expressions can change? But, what’s the got to do with the...aw, shit. “Can anybody think of a good example?” Mr Caldwell asked, and before he could even acknowledge Laura’s hand, her mouth opened. “The Novello-Virus plague,” she said. “It famously created an immune response which altered the nerves in our lower abdomen.” “Yes...exactly,” Mr Caldwell grumbled, annoyed at the speed of her response. “Novo-2 is the reason why we all take so long to be able to control our movements. Now, have a go at the questions on page 238. They’re exam style questions, so they’re useful. Try and help each other if you don’t understand.” Ha, if you don’t understand... Nick shook his head, and flicked to the correct page. On these sheets, the devil was incarnate once more, his powerful ritual sketches zagging across the page’s margins, making evil the knowledge held within. Nick tried to comprehend the diagram, but nothing of it could click. Not even the words on the page made sense - each italicised term was connected to every other, forming a chain of incomprehension which bound the book to an endless, circular glossary. Frustrated, Nick turned to Georgie, who sat next to him. ()Unfortunately, she was also staring blankly at the page, but Nick thought that she couldn’t be as lost as him. “Hey, G,” he said, and the girl shifted, her butt crinkling beneath her tartan school skirt. “Do you get this Epigenetics stuff?” Nick had thought that she’d shifted to face him, but she instead looked absently ahead. He then heard the distinctive hiss from under her skirt, as she let her mind run, wetting herself. Nick could see the nappy sag as it poked from between her legs, expanding out of her skirt. Half of the class turned to the sound, silent giggles passing between friends as they privately mocked the girl. Just over half of the cohort were free of nappies now, and they were surely keen to mock those who weren’t. “I see…” Nick hummed, unable to capture Georgia’s attention. A plastic crinkling approached, and Nick turned to it, to find Laura making her way to his desk. “Did you go, too?” He asked. “No, I can help you,” she huffed, and leaned over and onto his desk. Nick sneered - it wasn’t enough to try and hang out with him, or answer all of the questions in class, she’d now try to tutor him? “Sure, go ahead,” he grumbled, with no other options. “Epigenetics is when an external factor changes gene expression, right?” “Sure, I guess,” Nick chuffed. “Okay, well it is.” “How?” Nick asked. “How does it matter? You’re already built, so what does changing genes matter?” “Because your cells are constantly dividing and replacing themselves,” Laura explained, “so any changes to your genes will eventually be seen in all of your cells.” “Yeah, okay...but how does it happen in the first place?” “Because the thing you come into contact with either reacts with your DNA, or it changes chemistry in your body which reacts with your DNA.” “I…” Nick wanted to ask more, but he understood the concept now. Why was it such gibberish a minute ago? How was it that Laura knew the better way to explain this than the teacher? How did this great lesson come from somebody who couldn’t even manage to stop shitting their pants? “Thanks,” Nick said, although with no sugar to his smile. “You’re welcome,” Laura nodded, sharing Nick’s grit. She pulled herself up, and waddled back to her seat. Chapter 2 Magical smells wafted from the kitchen, dancing throughout the house and up the stairs. These called Nick, dragging him from his top-storey room down into the living area for his favourite meal of the day - dinner. Oh, how his Mother was a good cook. Nay - a chef. That was her true calling, of course. The one career which she refused to entertain. It felt like she flopped between bosses, into and out-of life-altering decisions, a resident to all sorts of offices across the city over the years. For the past two, she’d managed to hold herself down to managing a family-run fashion shop. Who knew what came next. Neil helped bring the plates to the table, then took his favourite seat - the one with the prime view of the TV over his mother’s shoulder. Tonight, a beautiful pot of stuffed zucchinis cooled atop a wooden block on the dinner table. Nick spooned the four bowls full, one for each guest of the table, then took his eager seat to wait. Hauling himself from the couch, his Step-Dad, Greg, rose. His long and lanky limbs paraded themselves across the hardwood, reaching halfway across the house in no more than three steps. He took his seat opposite Nick with a smile on his angular face. Nick had lived with Greg and Laura for about seven years now. And still, the situation never felt like a fair family. It was obvious, no matter how much respect Greg tried to pay towards Nick, that he favoured his daughter and was more lenient on her. She who could never let him down. Nick swallowed resentment, because to act happy and respect Greg made his mother happy, so he would do it. Nick heard the loud crinkle before he saw Laura. He craned his head, watching her bounce towards the table from the stairs. Laura was a lazy dresser around the house - certainly, Nick would never get away with what she did, even in his nappy-days. She wore her thick white nappy exposed, white powder drifting from her arse with each heavy step. Her hair was long and worn down, atop an oversized red hoodie. A cloud of powder puffed up from her exposed waistband as she plonked her butt on the chair next to Nick. Laura smiled at him. “Don’t wait for me,” Nick’s mum, Julia, called as she bustled about near the sink. “Get started.” With the signal given, Nick launched his shovel of a spoon at the dinner, enjoying it immensely. Soon, his Mum joined the table, and the rush of cutlery slowed to allow for conversation. “What happened today at school?” She asked. “You know, nothing much.” Nick said, intent on eating. “I helped Nick in biology today,” Laura beamed, glancing a smirk to him as she spooned up zucchini. “We were studying Epigenetics.” “Ah, like Novo-2,” Greg chimed in. “Yeah, exactly, Dad,” she smiled, “Nick didn’t get it at first, but I helped to explain it to him.” Greg beamed, and his attention turned to Nick. The young man went red, falling into his seat. Yes, they already know you’re smarter than me… he grumbled to himself. You’ve always got to remind them, don’t you. “She did,” he said flatly. “You’d think with the money we pay for that school, it’d be the teachers who taught the classes, not their brighter students,” Mum chimed in, annoyed. Nick sighed to the saving grace; the deflection from his embarrassment. “Did you ask the teacher to explain it again?” “Eh, I don’t like asking too many times,” Nick said honestly, “you know, after they’d already spent so long explaining it once.” His mum frowned, then dug back into her food. A lull fell to the table with it, where everybody seemed too consumed by eating to talk. ()Then Laura grunted, and Nick heard a plastic rustle. She’s shifted her weight onto her furthest ass-cheek, aiming her nappy towards him. Staring off towards the TV, her face was caught in an absent concentration, gritting as she grunted again. Her hands now gripped at the edge of the table, hands strained. The seat of her nappy, pointed at Nick, shifted, something inside wriggling and poking out as she pushed. “Oh you’re bloody kidding me…” Nick coughed. He turned to his parents in disbelief, who didn’t seem to have even noticed. They only paid attention to their dinner, Laura’s grimace and grunting falling on deaf ears. He watched in disbelief as she strained further. Finally a hard mass shifted into the seat, her nappy bulging out to smush against her chair. She sighed, smiling, and pushed again. The nappy billowed out once more, a second lump crackling louding as it came, swelling under her ass . Laura sighed again, happy as anything, and sat squarely back down on the mess. Nick couldn’t believe it - pointing her ass towards him and shitting in his general direction. How could somebody so clearly bright, so intelligent in any other setting, so annoyingly favoured, get away with shitting themselves at the dinner table? Nick’s stare begged with his parents, who hadn’t even looked up or to each other yet. Finally, the smell of fresh shit and talcum powder caught his nose. “That’s yours to change,” Julia said to Greg, and the man grunted a nod. “Never change a nappy just as it’s messed - there’s always more,” Greg offered his wisdom, still focussed solely on his dinner. How was the lumbering man so utilitarian as to ignore the smell of his daughter’s mess as he ate his food? Nick tried to hone his focus with such intent, wafting the scents of the pot to his nose with the zucchini. The effort of self-deception was dizzying, and he had to settle with just not enjoying the food as he shovelled it in. ()Laura crinkled again, and Nick’s eagle gaze locked to her, brow furrowed. This time she squatted just off the seat, gripping hard to the table, but turned her head to hold Nick’s gaze as she pushed, smirking. Her whole body tensed, then a gurgle and squelch blew from her ass. The nappy bubbled from behind, squirming as a wad of liquid mess rushed to fill it. The odour was immediate, and deadly. Nick almost gagged - he wanted to cry, that he had half of his dinner left. He looked at the last zucchini in dismay. There was a second squelch - he wasn’t even expecting it - followed by a loud sigh as Laura finished off her bubbling, liquid mess. The legholes of her puffy and bulging nappy now showed brown. She took a slow seat, lowering herself onto the shifting mess, then raised her spoon back to her mouth as if nothing had happened. “I’m going to eat on the couch,” Nick said, lifting his plate. “Smart idea,” Greg agreed, but didn’t dare shift to move with him. Nick moved, totally stunned. He just didn’t get it - how could a girl so smart not have figured out the toilet yet, or basic etiquette? He mused that one day it would just come to her, like everything else seemed to do with Laura - learned and adopted effortlessly to the highest degree. Sitting on the couch, he craned his head back around to her. To Nick, it felt like her entire existence was designed to piss him off. Chapter 3 “Mate, I would end you at Mario-kart,” Tom grinned, ruffling Lachie’s hair as the boys walked the long path from the train station to school. Nick was glad for his morning free of Laura - on her own accord, she took the earlier train, to get to school way before classes started. It suited him - one less nappy to stink up the carriage. “Mate, this is old ground,” Lachie insisted, pushing the boy off. “I’ve already smashed you on every track, multiple times.” “That was years ago!” “You’ve been practicing?” “Of course I have. You can’t be a champion with no practice,” Tom grinned. Truthfully, a few years ago the lad had gotten into speedrunning, and failed miserably to run the game in anything resembling ‘speed’. He hadn’t picked up an N64 controller since. “You are challenging Rainbow_Road_69 here, Lachie,” Nick chimed. “Fastest thumbs on the N69.” “You know it,” Tom smiled. “He’s years out of practice,” Lachie rebutted. “And the years between now and my last speedrun is about the same as between the speedrun and you last beating me,” Tom added. “You can’t hold superiority four years after a fact.” “Okay, bet,” Lachie said. “But let’s make this juicer.” “I like juicer,” Tom agreed. “Even ground - we won’t play the N64 version. Let’s do Mario-kart Wii.” Nick’s stomach dropped. He immediately knew where this was going, and he dreaded the next sentence which he knew was coming his way. “Nick’s got it at his place. Why don’t you invite us around tonight for the showdown,” Lachie suggested, and Tom lit up, nodding along. Nick fell inside himself, growing nervous. Guests to the house, especially in the hours that parents would be arriving home from work, were in the domain of Grumpy Greg to approve. Whilst Nick’s Step-Dad was nice enough, there was one time when he demanded peace and cleanliness, and that was when he walked into his house after a long day at work. Strangely, for everything Nick didn’t appreciate about the man, he respected this rule. Nick and his Mum were living in Greg’s house, after all. Coming home to a clean and peaceful home was nice. Nick knew to uphold this sanctity. Beyond that, Nick knew that Greg didn’t like his friends. He thought that boys like Tom and Lachie were bullish and crude. Of course, Greg was right, but Nick liked his friends for their rough character, and for the shock of the more serene moments which came from them. His friends were men of surprising extremes. They certainly weren’t to Greg’s taste. It would be a lot of effort to convince Greg to let the boys come over just after school - he’d likely suggest a weekend, or barre the activity all together. Nick went to say as much, when Cassie arrived. “Hi, my favourite boys,” she joked, skipping up to the circle. Nick immediately lost his train of thought, and was now stuck at the station waiting for it to steam back to him. Unfortunately, the next train to arrive thought that he’d better check Cassie out, and he found himself sitting in its first class pullman carriage. Far out, she’s got a nice ass. And hips to match, it seemed. They puffed out almost cartoonishly, holding her dress alight. “Hey, wanna watch me smash Tom and Mario-kart?” Lachie asked her, his energy still high. “We’re going to Nick’s house after school to play it,” Tom added. Nick cringed. “Yeah, that sounds great,” Cassie beamed. “As long as you’re okay with me beating the lot of you.” Cassie was in? Suddenly, Nick had much fewer reservations about prodding Greg for permission. “I’ve just got to ask Greg if I can have people over,” he butted in. “We should be fine, though.” “Oh, Greg loves me, it’ll be fine.” Lachie waved a hand, “3:30 train, all.” --- At recess Nick fumbled with his phone. He pulled himself around behind the art buildings - apparently the old smoker’s paradise, before the school cracked on to it - and dialled Greg’s number. He was nervous. He desperately wanted Cas - his friends - to come over, but wasn’t sure how to approach this conversation. He held little reservation in admitting that Laura would know the right strings to pull, but he wasn’t going to stoop to asking her. He was a big boy who didn’t mess himself, he could call up his step-dad. Nick dialed the final number, and the phone rang. And rang. And rang. Nick almost became relieved, he could see the excuse forming ‘oh, hi Greg’, as the man walked into his door, ‘I tried to get onto you, but you didn’t answer. I’m sorry, we tried to keep things tidy’, yes, that would work. It… “Hello, Nick?” Greg’s voice crackled. Damn it. “Hi Greg,” Nick splattered nervously, “I was wondering if I could have three friends around after school, to play video games.” His voice fumbled the words. A silence was drawn. “I’ll make sure that everything is clean before you get home. You won’t even hear us - we’ll be in my room.” Greg hummed, then nothing. Were Nick wearing a nappy, he’d have peed himself. “Three friends, hey?” Greg mused. “Would they be Lachie, Tom, and Luke?” “Lachie, Tom, and Cassie,” Nick corrected, and Greg chuffed, as if he was amused to hear a girl’s name. “Right, usual suspects,” Greg said, then, “you’re just playing video games?” “Tom wants to verse lachie at Mario kart.” “No drinking?” “None of the sort,” Nick bit his tongue. Of course, Nick had assumed this, but Greg was right to suspect it. Tom, Lachie, and Luke could be rowdy when they wanted to be. It had happened before. “This is year 12 after all, we shouldn’t be drinking on school nights.” “Yes, you’re screwed on…” Greg said, implying that the others weren’t. Nick understood. “Yes, that’s all fine, Nick. Your friends are welcome around,” Greg said finally, and rather quickly, “Just get them to go home before dinner - I don’t want other parents thinking that I neglect to feed guests.” Nick was stunned. How had this been so easy? Maybe he’d turned on some unknown charm, or he’d done some unknown deed to land in Greg’s nice-books. Maybe the man just pitied that Nick had to eat dinner next to his soiled daughter. “Thank you, Greg!” Nick beamed. “I really appreciate it.” “All is good,” Greg agreed, “just keep the place clean for when I get home.” “And keep out of your hair,” Nick finished the sentiment. “You’ve got it.” --- Nick whistled on the way to his next class, elation in his veins after he confirmed the good news with the boys - and Cassie. Most importantly Cassie. Nick was surprised that she wanted to come around to his - even though she was effectively ‘one of the boys’. It’s not like they weren’t mates - they’d hang out at lunch sometimes, they’d talk at parties, but never one-on-one. No, Nick didn’t have the confidence for that. She’d certainly never been to his house. It seemed to push at some barrier of their friendship that she so jovially accepted the offer. Nick just hoped to high heaven that his room was clean enough for a girl. He thought about what damning articles might be on that unmade bed of his. Eh, if only he could distract them all downstairs for five minutes whilst he tidied up… ()His thought was interrupted as a girl from the younger year level, walking towards him, stopped in her tracks. Her eyes bulged wide, her knees buckled inwards, and her hand darted to her butt. A rude squelch and slop accompanied from under her school skirt, and the girl was held in stunned silence. Wet farts continued to blurt from the girl’s nappy. Nick disdainfully caught a waft of the toxic mass as he walked by. He gagged at the terrible stench, and was thrown into a strange thought. Why does Laura grunt so much when she goes? He’d never thought it strange that Laura put so much deliberate effort into her filling her nappy, but she always did. Most teens - even himself back in the days when it applied - couldn’t stop themselves. You’d be particularly self aware to even catch yourself off guard when relieving yourself. It just sorta happened - that’s why you weren’t toilet trained. The girl he just passed - now waddling off towards a change room - must have been training right now to have known what was coming. Eh, maybe Laura’s just constipated a lot. He shrugged, although something further nagged at him. The way she smirked at dinner - was she fucking with him? Saving a poo just to mess with him? How could she even do that?… “Hey, Nick,” he heard from behind, and turned. There stood Laura, her hair tall in its bun, her shirt tucked into her skirt over the obvious bulk of her nappy’s waistband. “Ah, the brainiac,” he greeted, “what do you want?” “I heard your friends are coming over tonight,” she said, and Nick could swear that mischief rose with her voice. He gritted his lips. “Yes, they are,” he wormed out. “Who told you?” “Lachie, of course.” Yes, Lachie, the weak link. Was he just teasing that he thought Laura was cute, or was he serious? Nick couldn’t imagine anybody being serious about such a thing. “I did a pretty good job convincing your dad,” Nick grinned, remembering to be boastful. “You know how he hates Lachie and Tom. Got him right on board. I wonder what him warming up to me means for you...” “I think you’re just lucky that he’s only got positive things to say about Cassie,” Laura teased. Nick’s brow furrowed. “He’s never even heard of her,” he puzzled. How did Cass change his mind? “Well, she didn’t, until I put in the good word this morning,” Laura smirked, twirling her skirt. “I told him that she’s toilet-trained, and he thought that it must have made her a good influence to have hanging around me. I also mentioned that all of your friends are toilet trained - it’s like, your thing. He seemed impressed - I don’t think he knew that you all valued it so much.” Nick grimaced, his confidence waning. He’d really believed that he’d spoken through to Greg, but this achievement wasn’t his. Just like everything else seemed to do in the eyes of his family, this success found its roots with Laura. He grumbled, eye twitching, but had nothing else to say but “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” Laura smiled, and skipped off, away to her next class. Nick hummed, his mind racing. Laura was up to something, but what would she do? Chapter 4 Nick slammed on cupboard doors, folding clothes at lightspeed to cram them into appropriate spaces. Used tissues were relegated to the tissue box for later rubbish sorting. The covers were thrown over the bed - laid smoothly rather than evenly, just for the effect of cleanliness. He’d told his friends downstairs that he needed to use the loo quickly, and had distracted them with ice-cold water. He hoped that they suspected nothing. Finally, the room clean, he strolled downstairs to fetch them, and pile them all into his abode. The first event of the evening would be Lachie versus Tom, on each championship cup, it was decided. Nick fired up the Wii, and handed the remotes to his mates, who licked their lips and twitched their thumbs in eager anticipation. They sat on the beanbags at the foot of the bed, right in front of the small TV, whilst Nick took his place on the edge of his bed. He’d presented Cassie with his office chair, the bees knees of modern ergonomic comfort, and she seemed to pause at her options. Finally, as the first track started, she lay down next to where Nick sat, taking the centre of the bed, close to him. Nick was petrified. The skin of her arm was within a hair’s distance of his leg. He swore that his leg hair even touched her - like some strange forcefield of sensors bolted to his thighs. He sweated, unable to squirm away as he was already squashed on the edge. Cassie must have sensed his aroused discomfort, for she grunted, pulled herself up, then sat down on the bed instead, placing the bowl of popcorn and chips between her and Nick. Nick was certainly a lot calmer in this position, and grabbed a mighty handful of snacks, deferring any talking. Cassie seemed unfazed- maybe Nick was just imagining her reactions - and the two of them relaxed to watch the war ahead. It was clear that, somehow, Lachie had an advantage in this game. Tom’s speed and reflexes on his old N64 - lovingly painted over, into the ‘N69’ - did not transfer to the Wii. Perhaps he relied too heavily on his experience and reflexes, because Lachie’s thumbs outpaced him in each moment requiring agility and wit. Lachie played the game expertly, hanging back in the mob to get the best weapons, then holding onto them until the perfect moment to ruin Tom’s lead. In the end, his strategy prevailed, and he won three of the four cups, causing Tom to slump in defeat. “Alright, who’s facing the champion next?” Lachie asked, beaming from behind the controller. The room paused, all glancing between each other. Nobody wanted to get their ass handed to them. So Nick had a better idea. “I think you’ve destroyed enough egos today, mate,” Nick said, “I reckon me versus Cassie next,” and he turned to her. “Your choice of map.” Cassie nodded along, her face cool. “I wouldn’t underestimate me, Nick,” she teased. “I didn’t. Maybe I thought you’d be a better challenge than Lachie,” he teased, and she chuckled along. “Alright, then,” Cassie said, shifting forward on the bed. She held her hand out to Lachie. “Hand over the remote, tiger. Let me show you how it’s done.” He reluctantly handed her his controller. Nick tried the same trick on Tom, but the boy was nowhere near as jovial in playing along. His twitching hand reached straight for the chips, which he used to pacify himself. He then shifted residence to the office chair, to watch from a distance. Cassie chose rainbow road. Which, of course she did. When you want to prove your worth, it’s the one track to choose. Nick could see right through the facade - or so he thought. He wondered, briefly as the lights counted to green, which approach would be a better flirting tactic; would he let her win, to boost her ego, or would he crush her, just to show her how good he was? When the light went green, Nick found that he didn’t have a choice. Cassie was good - good enough that beating her was a challenge. She and Nick seemed to pull the same tricks, as if they’d both been practising the same moves, waiting for the next party to show off. The fun had been called off, real competition in its place, which Nick could see from a glance had consumed Cassie’s face. It was a hot race of equals, right up until the third lap. Nick had been drifting a corner, out ahead, when a surprise from behind blew him off the track. A blue-shell, not even from Cassie, had knocked him out of contention. He ceded his defeat, bowing to his opponent. “I don’t think I really earned that,” Cassie said, awkwardly accepting the bow. “Well, you dodged the blue shell and I didn’t. That earns some recognition.” “Maybe,” she hummed. There was a knock at the door. Nick’s head turned, and before he could greet the person on the other side, they had already entered. Laura strode into the room, and much to Nick’s surprise and relief, she was wearing pants around the house! At least that’s not whatever she’s got in store, he thought, remembering that his friends’ permission to hang here today was her doing. She wore a loose, cropped top, and a baggy pair of trackies (tracksuit pants, joggers, etc.) which didn’t quite disguise the thick nappy hidden underneath. In the free space between the hem of the short top, and the waist of her pants, poked out her ruffled nappy waistband. It crinkled to her every step. “What do you need?” Nick asked before she could speak. “Oh, I just wanted to see what all of the fun was about. Maybe challenge the champion to a race.” Nick knew that there must’ve been some trojan horse hidden within the request - it couldn’t have been Laura’s plan to just waltz in here and smack his friends at Mario kart. “Nah,” Lachie piped up, rummaging through the bean bag. “I don’t really want to beat a baby. Seems unfair.” “How can you control a Kart if you can’t control your piss?” Tom added. Nick knew for a fact that it was much more than her piss that Laura couldn’t control, and knew from experience never to underestimate her. He turned to Cassie, who’d gone red in the face, grimacing away from the boys. Nick read the second-hand embarrassment, and thought maybe he should give Laura a go. That seemed to be what Cassie thought, anyway. Against his best caution, Nick handed her his controller. “You versus Lachie,” he said. “If he beats you - ” “When I beat you,” Lachie clarified. “ - you...I don’t know...leave us alone until everybody goes.” “And if I win?” Laura asked. “You get...my dessert after dinner?” Nick mused, unsure of what seemed like a good prize. He had no idea what Laura might want. “I was more thinking something gross, like you all have to do a shot of Dad’s ouzo or something,” Laura shrugged, then strolled to take Tom’s vacated bean bag. “Sound fair?” “Eh…” Nick wanted to object. If his friends shotted Greg’s grog, Laura could easily twist that as stealing the old man’s drinks, and Nick knew that would go down worse than the ouzo. His friends would never be allowed over again. Plus, Greg had been specifically concerned about drinking. “Yeah, that’s a deal,” Lachie smirked, and Nick cursed under his breath. Lachie took Cassie’s controller, and chose his level. In the TV’s reflection, Nick could see Laura’s intense focus. Her fingers were still as bolts, welded to her palm, tense and ready. Nick already knew that a mistake had been made. The race blew into action. Lachie took a fast lead, rampaging his way through the pack of racers. Meanwhile, Laura drove backwards, and lined herself up at an obstacle. Then, she sat her character still. “You’re desperate to leave us the fuck alone, aren’t ya, piss girl?” Lachie teased, but Laura smirked, silent. He lapped her then, with the full ensemble of characters bumbling in his tail. Laura chose that moment to boost. Her kart bounced off the obstacle, then flew high, over a boundary of the map, clipping through the terrain. Then, when her character was picked up, she was set down behind the finish line, and drove over to complete a lap. Then she reversed again. Lachie was sweating, just halfway through his second lap when Laura clipped the stage once more, finishing her second lap in an instant. On his split screen, the end of his second lap was just in sight, and Lachie drifted towards it, water running down his forehead. Laura clipped the terrain again, as if it was nothing, and crossed the lap for the third time. The race came to a close, the bouncy music rumbling the room as the TV replayed her calm roll over the line. Lachie lost a hold of the controller, letting it bounce to the floor. He was gobsmacked. “Yep,” Laura smiled, placing her remote down. “Nice win, Lachie.” “That’s insane!” he pointed his palm to the screen. “How’d you do that?” “Practice.” She shrugged. “Look up the ‘lap-skips’ next time you’re bored.” And with that she stood, hands to her hips, quite pleased with herself. “God, I hate ouzo,” Tom shuddered, watching her rise. “Why’d you have to lose, Lachie?” “I won us a free drink. Try that for perspective.” Laura nodded, said “I’ll be back, and then I’ll leave you alone,” and skipped off, out the door and down the stairs. God damnit, Greg won’t be happy, Nick gritted his teeth. “Did you know she could do that?” Tom asked. “I had zero idea,” Nick said. “Aw, man. I hate ouzo. I hate it more than Greg loves it...” “I’ve never had it,” Cassie said, “Dad doesn’t like me drinking much.” “Yeah but we all know that means nothing between you and parties, Cassie,” Tom chimed. “You’d marry a cider. Fuck it, you’d marry the whole ten-pack.” “Maybe I would,” she chuffed. “But do you reckon I’d marry an ouzo?” “Shotgun wedding, maybe.” Just then, the door creaked open, Laura sauntering back in. She carried a tray in two hands, four shots already poured into glasses sitting atop. Even accounting for the nappy, her step looked strange to Nick as she tracked into the room. Maybe it was just her concentration in holding the platter still, but Nick could swear that her gait was wider than before - her hips swinging around in her pronounced nappy waddle. She swayed her legs on over, plastic ruffling all the way. And then it made sense. ()Nick caught the earthy, musty aroma before Tom declared it. The whiff of fresh poo radiating from Laura’s padded behind as she waddled past sweetly with drinks. Still, she was without a hint of a grin. There’s the trojan horse...Nick sighed. “Christ, you stink!” Tom coughed, holding back none of his disdain. He recoiled in the office chair, elbow shooting up to cover his nose. Nick thought that Tom was overreacting - this was a very mild mess, did he not know how bad it could get? “I do?” Laura quizzed, her face dropping to confusion. She took a hand from the plate, patting her tummy to feel for its fullness. “I don’t feel like I have to go, but maybe…” and replacing her hand to the tray, she popped her knees and stuck out her butt. Her body and face tensed as she grunted. “What are you doing!” Nick finally caught his senses. “I don’t feel like I have to go,” Laura shrugged, standing straight again. “No, love, it’s already in your pants, believe us!” Lachie said. “Come on, put the drinks down and get your stinky ass out of my room!” Nick demanded, standing off the bed. Laura turned, handing the tray to Tom, and forcing his hand to catch it instead of covering his nose. “I just don’t think I messed…” Laura said in a voice sweet and innocent, and craned herself around to peer at her backside. She threw her leading hand to her nappy’s back waistband, and before Nick could object, pulled it open, peeking down her ass crack. Everybody’s eyes watered. A cloud of pungent fumes puffed from her frilly waistband, blanketing the room in deadly gas. Tom’s eyes watered, his hands stuck on the ouzo tray and unable to defend himself. Lachie fell from his bean bag, using limp limbs to throw himself towards the far wall. Cassandra launched herself up the bed, banging her funny bone into the headboard. “Oh, looks like I did mess, huh,” Laura declared, her grin devious. “Oh, you think so?” Nick growled. “Come on, get out.” And he grabbed her arm to pull her to the door. But she stood firm, planted to the carpet of his room. “Looks like you need to change me,” she said. “Me?!” Nick fumed, then tugged. “Do it yourself.” “Well, you’re the one who promised Greg he’d come home to a clean house. I don’t think this…” her eyes rolled to her pants, “...is clean.” Nick’s own eyes drifted to Laura’s nappy, poking out above the trackies’ waistband. Nick had indeed promised Greg a peaceful return home to a clean house. He knew that the man would chuck a hissy fit at the mildest inconvenience to his immediate enjoyment of his abode. Nick had foolishly taken responsibility to deliver these conditions. But surely Laura, after making this mess of his afternoon, could just do this herself. “You can’t do it?” he asked. “I know you won’t just sit around like this.” “I don’t do a good job,” Laura shrugged, “Dad’ll smell me as soon as he gets home. He won’t be happy with you.” He won’t be happy with me? Nick grumbled, his mind construing into the tangled thought process of a Greg. WWGD? Certainly, Greg would come home and smell a poopy nappy. He would find the poopy nappy, and undoubtedly instead of blaming Laura for messing herself and not cleaning it up, he would blame Nick for not taking care of it, given his promise of cleanliness. In fact, Laura would be praised by Greg for attempting to clean herself, and Nick would be sledged harder for allowing her to do it, knowing it would make Greg upset. Laura couldn’t possibly be the star child if her problems were her own fault, and hers to solve. But maybe Nick was prepared to take that bullet today. He did have the ouzo to blame on her. “I’ll clean you.” Lachie offered, with all too keen of a grin. “Yeah, nah,” Nick held a palm to stop the lad. “You absolutely will fucking not. Bloody hell, let’s get this over with, Laura.” “I don’t think I can wait up here,” Tom gagged, almost crying. “It’s painful to breathe.” “Yeah, wait downstairs. Help yourself to the TV,” Nick grumbled, his afternoon over in an instant. “I’ll be down soon.” And with that, he pulled Laura out of the room, across the hall, and to the changing table of the upstairs bathroom. An innocent smile plastered across her face, she happily jumped onto the high, cushioned bench, wrestling with her pants. Nick dug through the nappy cupboard, looking for an appropriate replacement. Pink and frilly, with big letters saying ‘I absolutely suck as a human being’ would do the trick… “You suck, you know that?” Nick said, pulling out a fresh nappy and slamming it on the bench. He now found Laura lying down on the table, her legs spread and bent, so that her feet sat soles-down near her ass. “Your friends are stuck up,” she said, her face red. Nick thought that he saw embarrassment across those cheeks - but he couldn’t have. Laura was just moments before smiling and giddy, her plan well executed. He didn’t buy the bait of her phony humiliation, instead remaining silent. He reached for the tapes, pulling them from the plastic and lifting back the nappy’s front. He was prepared for a mighty mess, given the smell, but saw only a small, clay-like mound stuck between her ass cheeks. It looked like a pain to clean, and he frowned. ()Laura’s hand snatched at his. Her eyes were wide and ablaze. “Put it back.” She demanded in a whisper. “What?” “Put it back on!” She yelled, her leg twitching. Nick seemed dumb to the urgency, sceptically pulling the top band back to the girl’s stomach. His finger fiddled at the tapes. The nappy jerked at his fingertips, caught only by the tape. Laura’s legs squirmed as a hot mess splattered into the nappy, the recoil almost tugging its waistband from Nick’s grip. Slimy shit gurgled beneath the padding, bursting to the splutter of the girl’s ass, forcing the padding further outwards. Nick, mortified, let his gaze drift slowly to the scene. The nappy bulged at Laura’s waist, saggy and oozing at the leg holes.A spurt of liquid mess painted the table to either side of the nappy’s seat, projected from the crevice of her legs. “Oh, my, god,” Nick and Laura uttered in unison - although for different reasons. Then she said, “wait, keep holding,” and grunted, her legs hunching up into the air. Straining, she pushed out a final spurt of mess, which bubbled rudely against the seat of the nappy. Then, silence. Finally, Laura wrenched her chest up, peering past her stomach to see the mess. Her face immediately dropped, stunned. “You clean me, I clean the table,” she suggested. Nick was numb. He didn’t consider this to be much of a deal, but he nodded to it anyway, waiting for her to lie back down. Then, watching for any change in Laura’s expression, Nick carefully pried open the front of the nappy. Oh, how he now wished for the mess which he’d seen before. What greeted him was about 100 times more pungent and stomach turning. An ocean of milky-brown cream sloshed in the valley between the leg-bands, mushy, putrid chunks spread within. Luckily, due to the nappy being bloody-well off at the time, it hadn’t caked all of her skin, making this job a little easier. Still, the muck seemed to flow down into the space of her ass crack, and Nick wondered how far back it went. He didn’t quite know where to start, but made an effort anyway. First, he taped the nappy back closed. Then, finding the dire-situations rag, he laid it under Laura’s bum and back, with her full cooperation. Liquid mess had leaked to the small of her back, almost pooling to her crop top, but luckily it was saved. Then, he untapped the beast. Deft hands had the brown river styx held within, which quickly made its way into a biohazard worthy plastic bag, and then the bin. This job seemed like a needless waste of wipes, but there was too much shit to stink up the shower, so wipes it was. One would expect wet-wiping your step-sister’s soiled ass and vagina to be pretty up there with the weirdest, most uncomfortable tasks imaginable, but Nick and Laura had long ago grown past the awkwardness. This was a job which he resented only because of how frequently he did it, not because it gave either of them the icks. Then, baby powder applied, Nick slipped the new nappy under her and taped it up tight. Not even waiting for her approval, he turned the exhaust fan onto max speed and washed his hands, ten years wiped off his life. “Rag and table are yours to clean,” he said through the mirror’s reflection, watching for her nod. “Better check your top, too.” Well, he’d have sworn that she’d deliberately fucked with him back in his room, the way she paraded about with a perfectly timed and smelly nappy. He’d have sworn that her need to push, and her ritual, impeccably convenient timing, meant that Laura had some level of control over herself. But after that shit-show? That display looked a lot more like a regular teen - alerted at the last minute, no ability to stop it. Still, with his afternoon in shambles, Nick had to believe that Laura had some control over her bowels, and that she was using it to fuck with him. He just had to find better evidence to prove it. Part 2 and Onwards to come!
  7. Closing the Deal (The Dialogues #2) Patty opened the door to let Zoe in, greeting her warmly with, “So nice to see you again.” “You as well! Thanks for letting me come over on such short notice.” “I could tell you were nervous over the phone. Please, come in. Mark is in the living room.” Zoe followed Patty into the living room, where Mark was playing on a blanket with larger-sized building blocks, a pacifier in his mouth and a diaper peeking out from below his tee shirt. “Mark, Zoe is here,” Patty said. He stood and bowed his head as he’d been taught to. It wasn’t so important to Patty, but she’d worked with Mark on remembering to be polite whenever a potential wife called on them. “Hello, Mark,” Zoe acknowledged him. Mark couldn’t remember if he was supposed to say hello back and didn’t raise his head. After a moment, Patty apologized for him. “It’s okay, Marky. You can go back to playing while we talk.” Turning to Zoe, Patty added, “Sorry. He’s very polite but gets flustered and forgets sometimes.” “That’s okay. I can tell he’s a sweetheart.” “Will you sit,” Patty asked, and the two of them sat down on the sofa and turned Mark’s cartoon off. If he minded, he didn’t say so and kept stacking and unstacking his blocks. “Thank you,” Zoe said again. “I know this is kind of unusual, me being here without my mother. I just ...” “Would you like to call her? You don’t have to do these negotiations alone.” This was the sixth conversation between them and the third time Zoe had seen Mark in person. Matriarchs were traditionally responsible for negotiating marriages, and though most families no longer held to the custom, particularly for a woman over twenty-five like Zoe, she came from a traditional family’s a traditional community. Patty didn’t want to take advantage of Zoe, but she hoped to at least end the visit with an agreement in principle. “No, that’s okay. I promised I wouldn’t sign anything. I just wanted to see him again.” “I like that about you,” Patty told her. “It shows you’re careful. Getting a husband is a major responsibility. My sister had one of her boys returned to her, and neither of us wants that.” Zoe chuckled. “Definitely not.” She paused awkwardly. “Can I play with him?” “Of course. He’s very good at sharing.” The two of them got on the floor at Mark’s level and helped him build with his blocks. Mark liked his suitor and did his best to show it by sliding her blocks for her to place. As the tower got higher, Patty called a time out because, “Someone needs his diaper changed.” “I’ll help,” Zoe volunteered. “I could use the practice.” Remembering she shouldn’t let on that she was leaning toward choosing Mark, she hastily added, “Whichever one I choose.” “You don’t have much practice,” Patty asked casually. Most women had experience at least babysitting at some point in their lives. That was the kind of detail she wouldn’t have gotten if Zoe’s mother, much more experienced in marriage negotiations, were there. “We don’t have many men in our family.” “No brothers,” Patty asked as she walked back toward them with a wicker basket of changing supplies in hand. “None. Mom had my sisters and me and took my father back to his mother ... But I have no intention of that. Really, that’s my mom. That’s not me.” Patty sat back down. “I’m surprised she didn’t just get some at a bank.” “She wanted to be sure she was getting what she paid for, is what she told me. You know some of the depositories, especially back then, we’re dishonest.” “I’ve heard that. Marky, lay down for me.” Marky held on to his block and laid down for his mom. She lifted his shirt, exposing his tummy. “He’s so cute,” Zoe said and reached out to tickle his belly, eliciting a laugh from the twenty-year-old. “You did a good job at that. And he’s so biddable. He just laid right down even though he was playing.” “Well, I wanted him to be that way. It’s a trade off,” Patty said, wanting to be transparent. She wanted him to go to a good home and for things to work out between them. She didn’t want an unhappy wife divorcing him and bringing him back, not like her nephew and, apparently, Zoe’s father. “Could you tell me a little more about that,” Zoe asked. The mysteries of man-rearing were not something her mother had ever talked about it, and her conservative religious school hadn’t gone into much detail in the health or home economics classes. Zoe managed to maintain her innocence even through college and despite having friends with dads and brothers. Her mother had never even let her babysit. It was only after insisting she wanted a husband and wanted to keep him that her mother had more actively engaged in the search, and she had then insisted on leading the negotiations as her mother had done for her. “Well,” Patty said thoughtfully, “it’s not that Mark doesn’t know how to do things. He helps around the house and brushes his own teeth and those things. He can put on his shoes, but you have to tie them. And he can learn more if you teach him. He’s very smart.” “You didn’t want him to learn more?” Mark laid there passively, accustomed to this happening six times a day and not paying much attention to any remark or question not addressed to him. It was a trait Zoe appreciated in a potential husband. “Well, maybe I spoil him, but I know some women want a very simple husband. You know how it is - the more they can do, the more independent they start to think they are and the more behavioral issues they have. That’s not universal of course, but ya know.” She reached out and rubbed Marky’s belly. “This little guy doesn’t need much correction. I never even bought a paddle.” “Really?” That was a rarity. Most wives kept one in the diaper bag, one in the kitchen, and one in their husbands’ bedroom. “Really,” Patty replied, not wholly truthfully. She had a paddle, but she didn’t buy it. It was part of her husband’s dowry, though she’d never used it on Mark and only a few times on her husband, who was outside doing chores. “At most he just needs some taps from momma’s spoon to get him back on track,” Patty said, which was true. “That’s part of why I’m leaning toward Mark. Since I haven’t really been around a lot of men or have much experience with caring for them, I thought it’d be smart if my first one was easy.” She knew she wasn’t supposed to admit these things, but she felt a rapport with Patty and hoped it wouldn’t undermine the deal they might make or make Patty decide she didn’t want Mark in Zoe’s care. “That is smart. You can always get more if you decide you want a more independent husband ... And of course I’ll help you. I may not be his owner after the wedding, but I’ll always be his mom,” she said while playing with Mark’s hair. “Won’t I be,” she said in that breathy, sing-song tone men like Mark seem to respond so well to. “Yes I will! Yes mommy will!” “My mom will help out, too,” Zoe said, sounding dismayed. She was trying to remember to play it cool and make herself and her home out to be the perfect place for him, but she couldn’t hide that she wanted him and wanted to bring the drawn out negotiations to a close. At the same time, she knew she and her mother had different philosophies on wifing and man-rearing. Patty wasn’t sure she liked the idea of Zoe’s mom being involved in Mark’s care. While both mother’s involvement was a given for first-time brides, Zoe’s mother didn’t sound like the kind and gentle caregiver she wanted for Mark. The negotiation, of course, went both ways. Just because money changed hands didn’t mean it was a transaction, after all. Patty wanted the best for Mark. “You gonna help me change his pants,” Patty asked, trying to lighten the tension. “Yeah ... does he squirm?” “Not often. Well, not unless you make him,” Patty laughed. “Need me to talk you through it?” “Promise you won’t think I’m not ready to get married if I say yes?” Mark played with the block in his hand. “Of course, sweetheart. Just undo the tapes first but leave the diaper where it is.” Zoe did, and Patty slid the basket of supplies toward Zoe. “It’s always best to get everything ready before you open the diaper. You don’t know what you’ll find in there, and men sometimes pee as soon as the air hits them. You gotta be ready to dodge.” “Really,” Zoe asked, sounding concerned. “It’s just part of being a wife.” “Okay,” Zoe said and first got a new diaper out of the basket and unfolded it. “You’ll need ... Sorry, you would need to keep using that brand. It’s expensive, but it’s hypoallergenic. He breaks out in a rash with other brands.” Zoe next took out the container of wipes and opened it, plucking one out and holding it. “Okay,” Patty said, “now you can fold his diaper down, but do it slowly at first. In case he starts to pee you can cover him real fast ... if he’s not peeing yet he’s probably not gonna.” “Do I need to lift his legs back or roll him on his side?” He was smaller than men had been two generations ago, but he was still as big as she was. She’d seen women lifting their husbands’ legs back on YouTube when she watched instructional videos, but he just seemed too heavy for that. She figured it was something wives just got good at. “For dirty ones he’ll roll over onto his side when you tell him. For wet ones you just need to ask him to open his knees. Open up, Marky. Good boy!” Zoe chuckled. “He really is a good boy, holding still this whole time. You have him so well trained ... I don’t want one of those husbands you have to chase when they need a new diaper,” she laughed nervously. She turned back to the task at hand. “Wow,” she said, “you didn’t exaggerate. He’s so small.” “Just like his father. You just take the wipes and make sure you get everywhere, especially in his creases and under his foreskin. We don’t want any itchy rashes.” Zoe wiped around his pubic mound and under his scrotum and in the creases inside his thighs. She’d seen a penis, obviously, but never touched one. It didn’t seem nearly so icky as all the women she knew made it out to be, certainly not as bad as the impression she’d come away with from the jokes wives made on sitcoms, though she wasn’t sure if that was just because he was so small. She tentatively lifted it between her left thumb and forefinger, carefully pulling back his foreskin to clean him thoroughly. “Um,” she said and blushed as it grew stiff in her fingers. Patty blushed as well, embarrassed it would do that in front of a suitor the very first time, but of course Mark was blameless. She rushed to downplay it, hoping it wouldn’t make Zoe change her mind about him. “It’s fine,” Patty said. “It doesn’t happen every time. Next you sprinkle some powder on him.” “I thought they don’t do that if you milk them regularly. Um, have you, uh, milked him regularly?” “I do,” Patty said, trying to pull Zoe’s attention away from it. It was still erect. “Anyway, you don’t need too much powder.” “I thought you’re supposed to use rash cream next,” Zoe ventured. The things she’d read and seen said so. “Um, usually, yes,” Patty agreed. She didn’t want Zoe to rub rash cream on him for fear he’d ejaculate. That it was still stiff was just adding to her embarrassment, too aware it was reflecting on her care of him as a mother. She didn’t believe in all the same things other mothers did when it came to milking, but she took excellent care of her Marky. Zoe seemed like an almost ideal owner for him, and she didn’t want one little erection to spoil the deal. Zoe, however, was clearly distracted by it. Everything she had read, which admittedly wasn’t much, emphasized this shouldn’t happen if the man was properly trained and milked regularly, and that if it did happen either the woman responsible for the man hadn’t trained and cared for him well, the man was poorly behaved and maybe even incorrigible, or all of the above. “But ... I’m sorry, I’m not judging. He’s yours, so please don’t think I’m judging. But you do milk him regularly, don’t you? I mean, I thought this didn’t happen if you ...” She wasn’t disgusted by it so much as she thought she was supposed to be disgusted by. That she wasn’t was making her insecure. She had grown up in a culture that stigmatized unsolicited erections, especially during diaper changes. That it didn’t bother her perhaps led her to overreact so she would seem what she thought was normal. Surely her mother would have reacted very negatively and would approve of Zoe doing so if only as a negotiating tactic. “I do,” Patty said again. “I swear. It’s just ... how much do you know about milking?” Zoe blushed. It was the most taboo subject in the world she’d grown up in. Her mother would unashamedly talk about returning her husband and keeping the dowry, confessing to marrying him just for his genetic material, but talking about how she had gotten the material was absolutely off limits. “Um, not much, actually.” She seemed to pass from embarrassed to sullen, this confession another revelation she feared would make her an unfit wife in Patty’s eyes. She started to rise, murmuring an apology and regretting coming here without her mother. “It’s okay,” Patty said, her voice soft and soothing as she retook the negotiation high ground. “Sit. Please.” “I’m not ...” Ready to be a wife is how she would’ve finished the sentence had she not stopped herself. “Sit. Let’s just talk. It’s okay, promise.” She sat. Zoe had at least been taught to obey older women; the religious community she grew up was insistent on the hierarchy of the matriarchy. It was out of step with society in the degree to which they took that maxim. Patty took Zoe’s hand, and asked her directly, “Was that your first time touching one?” Zoe nodded. “Well, if I had known that I would’ve talked you through it more. Do you want me to?” Zoe felt like she was breaking so many rules when she said, “Yes. I’ve tried to get Mom to talk about it, but she says that’s for after marriage.” That caught Patty off guard. She understood so much better now. Milking men hadn’t been taboo in mainstream society in at least a couple decades. It wasn’t dinner table conversation, but it wasn’t taboo. Even babysitters would do it if they had to, no different than attending to any other bodily function if the need arose while the man was in their care. No one looks forward to doing it, and if done regularly it wasn’t something a babysitter should have to do unless they were watching the man for a whole week, but it was hardly taboo anymore, much less something shameful that only married women did or knew about. “I’m, um, not judging,” Patty said, “but, um, are you a member of People of the Spirit?” “Yes,” Zoe answered just above a whisper. She’d always been proud of her faith. Only in the moment, realizing how poorly prepared she was to care for a husband even at the age of twenty-eight, did she feel embarrassed by her background. But if she wanted to learn this even if her mother insisted she wait for marriage, Zoe was beginning to suspect they weren’t all her beliefs so much as her mother’s. “That’s okay!” Patty was quick to say. “That’s okay! We go to church every Sunday. Mark loves it ... Are you sure you want me to teach you about this? You don’t want your own mother to do it?” “No, I want to learn. If you’re not uncomfortable with it.” “Sweetie, there’s nothing to be uncomfortable about is the first lesson. Man parts and milking and erections are not a big deal at all,” Patty said with what she hoped was not a condescending tone. “I know!” Zoe exclaimed. “I mean, I never thought so, but even ...” She looked at it, still pointing straight up. “I thought I was supposed to be grossed out by it. It’s not a big deal. I mean, look at it.” Zoe looked again and shrugged. “Exactly. I know everyone jokes about it, but every wife does this. It’s the same as anything else they might do in their diapers.” “Well, what’s the ...” Zoe didn’t know what question to ask. After Zoe didn’t finish the sentence, Patty decided to just show her. “First,” she said reaching over to gently wrap her forefinger around it, “this is his clitty.” Mark just laid there obediently, though he stopped paying attention to his block. “You don’t call it a ...” “We don’t use the P-word around him. Some men hear that and start getting all sorts of mistaken ideas about themselves. This is his clitty,” she said again, giving it a little shake, “and like all man clitties, it has a mind of its own. You can milk them every day, and a man might still get an erection for no reason, especially during a diaper change.” “What are you supposed to do if that happens?” “You can ignore it if you want to. You don’t need to do anything with it except point it down and put their diaper on. All except the biggest clitties can still fit in a diaper when they’re erect, though it might not be so comfortable for the man.” “Do they ejaculate?” “What, you mean on their own?” “I mean how does the erection go away you put the diaper on over it?” Patty did a good job hiding her surprise at just how naive Zoe was. “It just does if you leave it alone.” “But his clitty is still ... up.” Tipping her cards in the negotiation, Patty smiled and confessed, “That’s because he likes you. He told me so after he first met you.” “But ... I thought they can’t control it.” “They can’t.” “But you said it’s because he likes me. So is he ... so it’s not purpose? He’s not trying to show me he likes me?” Patty didn’t know any members of People of the Spirit. It wasn’t a large group; it just stood out because of how retrograde its teachings were and how poorly they prepared their kids for life as adults. Clearly what she had heard about the group was not exxagerated. “No, honey, they just do it sometimes for no reason, but it’s more likely when they like you.” “Even if you milk them?” “Yep. Do you want to learn about milking?” “Yes please.” She felt like she was learning more in Patty’s living room in a visit that was less than an hour old than she had in all her years at school and home. “What do you already know?” “Just that making them ejaculate regularly keeps them better behaved and prevents ... those.” “So you don’t know how it’s done?” “No.” She’s been too embarrassed to look it up even though there hadn’t been parental controls on her computer for ten years. “Okay,” Patty said. She didn’t have a daughter and had never taught anyone before, but it was simple enough. “Well, it’s really simple. You don’t need anything other than your hand.” Zoe blushed all the way to her ears. “Like, your bare hand? Aren’t there ... aren’t you supposed to use the tools they make for it?” That was where Patty’s beliefs and practices on milking first diverged from the mainstream. She’d tried those devices before and never really saw what made them so much better than just using her hand. It was so convenient: she never had to go get a device or find batteries or sanitize the tool beyond a quick trip to wash her hands. She also, though, was less inclined to see milking itself as being nearly as important as most other women did. They treated milking as a chore and something so integral to their men’s good behavior that they’d sooner have their men miss their nap time than skip a milking. Newfangled hogwash from uptight germaphobes, Patty thought. Perhaps it was generational, but Patty was an older mom, and she liked being a man mom, an even rarer trait. Mark was her sixth. “They do make devices for it,” Patty told her, glad she could pass on real wisdom and counter what all the new marriage guides were preaching these days, “and they’re okay. You can use those, but your hand works almost as well and is so much more convenient.” “Even if it doesn’t work as well?” “The devices do a slightly better job at getting every last drop, but it’s okay if there’s a little left in there.” “But doesn’t that mean you have to do it more often?” “Maybe a little, but like I said, it’s not a big deal. It only takes a few minutes.” Zoe clearly looked skeptical. “Really?” “Really.” “But everyone makes it sound like it’s this huge chore.” “That’s because they make such a big deal about anything to do with clitties anyway. But look, there it is. It’s fine, right? Just another part of him.” “Yeah ...” “Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s not still a wittle weewee.” “And what about what comes out?” “Just one more thing he puts in his diaper.” “So you do it in his diaper.” “You can. I don’t usually.” “But doesn’t it make a huge mess. I mean, if he peed without his diaper on ...” “It’s a lot less fluid than everyone makes it out to be. Do you want me to just show you?” “Yes, if you don’t mind. And he doesn’t mind.” Patty chuckled. “Of course he doesn’t mind, and even if he did, he’s a man. I love him, but he’s still a man. Roll over, Marky. Let’s show Zoe where things are.” He complied; if he was embarrassed, he still did as we was told. Turning back to Zoe, Patty continued, “There’s more than one way. I’ll just finish the one but I’ll give you the lay of the land, so to speak.” She reached into the basket and took out the rash cream. “For starters,” Patty said, “this stuff works just as well as the lubricant they sell just for milking, and this is much cheaper.” She applied some to the middle finger of her right hand. “Scoot closer so you can see,” she said to Zoe. To Mark, she said, “You gonna be my big man and hold still for momma?” He nodded shyly. Patty ran the fingertips of her clean hand over his bottom, tickling him gently. “That relaxes him. See?” Mark seemed to shudder and clenched his toes, relaxing his whole body as he unclenched them. “Aww. That’s adorable.” It made even less sense why everyone made this out to be the worst part of being a wife. Mark was being such a good boy doing as he was told and holding mostly still and being quiet. “I know, right? So just like we call it a clitty, we call this his button,” Patty said as she spread his cheeks. “Inside his button is his prostate. It’s about halfway between his button and the base of his clitty, so you can milk him by massaging this prostate. See how my finger is pointed?” She crooked her finger. “Once your finger is inside him, you just need to bend your finger like this and feel around until you feel something round and hard and about the size of a walnut.” She demonstrated. Mark held mostly still as she entered him and found his prostate. “Right ... there.” “So you just poke it?” “No, you need to rub it and massage it with your finger.” She kept demonstrating. Mark quietly squirmed but barely, as he’d been taught to do. “They make tools for this; the ones that vibrate are most effective, but this works nearly as well. You can move your finger in and out as you go, like this ... Massaging his prostate will get the most fluid out at one time. Wanna try,” Patty asked as she withdrew her finger. “Um, okay,” Zoe said nervously. Patty correctly guessed the reason for her trepidation. “There’s gloves in the basket.” Zoe donned one. “How much rash cream do I use?” “Best to use about as much a grape, but you can use half that in a pinch. He has enough already. Too much makes it take longer.” Patty reached for a wipe and cleaned her finger off. “Oh ... like this?” “Keep your finger mostly straight until it’s inside him.” Zoe tentatively entered him. “How far in,” she asked. She was afraid of hurting him and unaccustomed to how a man felt around her finger. “So you feel the first muscle right when you enter his button, right?” “Yeah.” “That’s his outer sphincter. Keep going and you’ll feel another muscle very tight around your finger. That’s his inner sphincter.” “Okay,” Zoe said as her reached it. “Now keep going … keep going.” Patty watched Zoe’s finger disappear knuckle by knuckle. She appreciated Zoe being gentle with Mark; it was reassuring that even if Zoe had a lot to learn, she wasn’t the type to treat a man like livestock. “Good job being gentle. Now bend your finger toward his front. Feel it?” “I don’t think so.” “It’s okay to search for it ... feel it?” “No,” Zoe said, afraid not finding it on her first try would once more make her out as not ready for marriage. “Here,” Patty said and scooted over. “It takes practice is all. Open your legs a little, Marky.” He did. “You can also stimulate it from the outside if you press about halfway between his scrotum and his button. Right about ... there. See where my hand is?” “Yeah.” “Okay, give me your other hand.” Patty gently took Zoe’s hand and guided it to Mark’s perineum, laying her fingers flat against the same spot and placing her hand over Zoe’s. “See how he reacts when you just apply pressure here?” Mark’s leg twitched. He got himself under control as he’d been taught to and held still even as his breathing grew more rhythmic and audible. “Yeah.” “Sometimes if you can’t find it on the inside, it helps to use your other hand to find it on the outside by just pressing down and sort of pulling gently toward his button.” Zoe let Patty do just that with her hand over hers. “Try now. Feel around again.” Zoe had left her finger in since she wasn’t told otherwise. “Feeling ... I think ... I feel something!” “Size of a walnut?” “Yeah!” “That’s it. Well done.” Patty felt oddly proud of Zoe. She rubbed marks lower back and cooed, “Such a good boy. Keep holding still.” Mark lifted his head and laid it back down across his folded arms. “This is so cool!” She remembered to feel embarrassed. “I mean, not so bad.” “It’s fine, Zoe, really. You don’t have to feel ashamed for not hating. It’s an achievement your first time.” That was nice to hear. She’d never be able to tell her mother, though. “I just rub it with my finger?” “Yep. Back and forth. Or make little circles. But not too much.” Zoe stopped. “Why not?” “I want to show you the other way, too. If you finish, I can’t show you the other way. They need time in between.” “So to finish I’d just Jeep making circles?” “Pretty much. Moving it in and out as you go speeds it up a little.” “Should I take my finger out?” “Yeah.” She did and removed the glove, and though she’d worn one Patty handed her a wipe anyway. Mark groaned and kicked his foot just a little, causing Zoe to ask, “Did I hurt him,” with concern. Patty gave Mark a light spank. “Not at all. They just don’t like it if you stop without finishing. Just be patient, Marky. Anyway, like I said, that gets the most fluid out, especially if you use a tool and especially a vibrating tool. You can do it anywhere, but it works best with them on their knees or on their changing table, plus those are easier on your back.” “How is the changing table different from the floor?” “You know that hole under where the changing pad goes?” Zoe seemed to think for a moment, her eyes turning up and to the left before she blushed with the realization. “That’s what that’s for!?!” “Yep, for their clitty to go through. That’s much more comfortable for them if you’re using the prostate method and makes it easier to collect if you’re selling it.” “Is his marketable?” “Yep. I told your mother. Guess she didn’t tell you.” “No,” Zoe said, her irritation evident. “He was evaluated on his birthday. He has very good motility, and his features are in demand, as you know. Men like him are very chic right now,” Patty said with a wink. “If I wanted to collect it, how much would I get?” “I’m assuming you mean money,” Patty deadpanned. “Patty,” Zoe squealed and laughed. “At the moment, $1,000 per but you know that can change if his traits become less trendy and as he gets older. If you’re going to do it, you would definitely want to do it now. They do make a tool for harvesting, and just for that I think it would be worth it. It’s very efficient.” “How’s it different from the other tools?” “The other tools just vibrate ... You have a vibrator, don’t you?” “Of course.” Several. “Thought so. Just wasn’t sure.” “We’re religious, not nut jobs.” “I didn’t mean...” “I know. Sorry. You were saying.” “The vibrators for his prostate are just like yours, just shaped differently. It takes a few minutes at least to work, right? If you’re going to harvest him, they also make an electric prod that goes into his button just like your finger did. The little jolt of electricity will make him ejaculate instantly.” “That doesn’t hurt him?” “Well, I would imagine yes and no at the same time. I have a few friends who do it, and their husbands don’t seem to mind. You ready to learn the other way?” “Yeah.” “Roll back over, Marky. Legs open like momma taught you.” Mark rolled over, a subtle, pleading look in his eyes. “Lift your hips, baby.” He did, and Patty removed the wet and disheveled diaper. “Wanna put his new diaper under him?” “Sure.” “Don’t close its yet, but you can fold it over to make sure it’s in the right spot ... little lower. That’s perfect. You can put your bottom down, sweetheart. You’ll get so good at that in the first week of marriage you won’t ever need a second try.” She rolled up the used diaper. “Um, shouldn’t we have done this in his old diaper, instead of getting it on the new one?” “You can, but like I said, it’s not nearly as much fluid as you’re probably thinking. If some gets in his new diaper, you can just tape it shut. Doesn’t ruin it. In fact, I prefer it ends up in there than anywhere else. I’ll show you that works some other day.” “Oh.” She couldn’t readily imagine how to milk him through a diaper. “So the other main way,” Patty said, “is by massaging his clitty. You can use the rash cream again like before.” She applied some to her fingers. “Now, this method doesn’t get out quite as much fluid, so you’ll have to do it more often, but it’s quick and doesn’t require going inside his button.” “Yeah...” “Didn’t like that part?” “I mean, it was fine. It was kinda cool even, but I can see why most women don’t like doing it. It’s ...” “Still a button. I get it. Which is why I prefer this method. It’s totally worth it to me do this a little more often than to do it the other way a little less often.” “Does he have a preference?” “Ya know, I’ve never asked,” Patty replied. “Anyway, you take his clitty in your fingers, and you only need three fingers for a man his size: your thumb, your forefinger, and your middle finger.” “It’s not hard anymore.” “That just takes a second.” She took his penis in her fingers, using her thumb to rub under and around his glans. “See? Just takes a second.” Mark bit his lip and closed his eyes tight. Patty smiled at him. “I also like doing it this way because it’s more, I don’t know, interactive, sort of … It’s just like his prostate. You want to mostly focus on the top of it, and you can rub it up and down or in circles or just squeeze it gently in and out of between your fingers.” “Do you need to rub it all the way down and back?” Mark didn’t have much ‘down.’ “No. That helps on bigger men, but Marky has a pretty small clitty. Just using your fingers like this.” She rolled her thumb over and over on his glans. Zoe looked at Mark’s face, a look of concentration behind eyes squinched tight in a grimace. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt him?” “Absolutely it doesn’t,” Patty chuckled. “All men make a face like that when they’re being milked. Are you ready to try?” “Yeah.” “You can use a glove if you want to.” “No,” she replied, wanting to seem more confident than she felt. “This is cleaner than the other way. It’s fine.” “Add a little of the cream to your fingers first, but not as much as you saw me use ... okay, now just take his clitty between your fingers and thumb like you saw me do...” “O my. It’s so hot.” “Mhmm. That’s because of the blood flow, which is what makes clitties hard.” “And just started rubbing like this?” “Yep. See? Nothing to it. And not a big deal at all.” “No. Not at all.” Really, she couldn’t see what the fuss was about now that she was actually doing it. This didn’t seem bad at all, and certainly not something so bad she wanted to use the prostate method just to be able to do it less often. That seemed better if there was a specific reason to do it, but this was so easy. His clitty wasn’t something she wanted to take a picture of and keep on the mantle, but it was much better than dealing with his button. “Now,” Patty said, “Mark has been very well trained to hold mostly still and stay quiet for his milkings, but he is going to squirm a little and make a little noise. All men do that right before they ejaculate.” “Do I need to, like, watch out?” “How do you mean?” “He’s not going to accidentally kick me or something?” “Ha! No, sweetie. Here, I’ll show you: turn your hand around like this,” she said making the motion herself, “so your thumb is underneath it, and rub up and down right in the center of the clitty head. Yeah, like that, but just in the center.” Mark moaned louder and repeatedly, and his squirming turned to writhing. “That’s so cool!” “He likes that’s part a lot.” Zoe turned her hand back, and Mark calmed down. She turned it forward again, and he started to writhe again. “Neat,” she said under her breath. Turning back to Patty she said, “It’s like when you scratch a dog in the right spot and they start kicking their leg.” “Exactly. Same concept ... You can encourage them while you do it, too. I always like to.” She turned from Zoe to Mark. “What a good boy you’re being! Who’s a good boy? Hmm? Show us what a good boy you are!” Mark smiled behind his pacifier with his eyes still closed. “Okay, he’s almost ready. Take a wipe in your other hand.” Patty handed her one. “And when he starts to ejaculate you can just cover him with that.” “It happens just all of a sudden?” “Sort of. First ...” “Ope!” Zoe practically jumped. “Something is leaking out! Is that it?” “Don’t stop. That’s precum. Just a few more seconds. Keep going until I say stop.” Mark moaned behind his pacifier and bucked his hips on the diaper as he ejaculated. Zoe positioned the wipe to catch it and kept going. “Slow down,” Patty instructed. “Just like that. Slower and slower until his hips stop moving ... there.” Zoe was wide eyed, her hand still on his clitty as it softened. “Now, to make sure as much of it as possible is out, go to the base of his clitty and squeeze gently.” He was so small, there wasn’t much base to grasp. “Like this?” “Yep. You just need two fingers, and then slide them up to the top. Keep squeezing, not too hard. Good. Do that a couple more times ... there.” Patty shrugged. “That’s all there is to it. I like to praise him for it.” Zoe was smiling ear to ear. In a baby talk voice like Patty had used, Zoe told Mark, “You did such a good job, Marky! Thank you for being my good boy.” She was feeling more like an adult than she ever had before even though she’d been working and living on her own for six years. She knew it was silly - women younger than her did this - but given it was her first time, it felt like a big deal anyway. “Now what,” she asked as she wiped her hands. “Don’t clean your hands just yet. You have a diaper change to finish. Make sure you get the rash cream in his creases especially. That’s where Marky likes to get a diapee rash.” Zoe applied the cream and then sprinkled some powder on him. She looked up at Mark’s face. “He’s asleep,” she whispered. “He’ll be awake again in just a minute. They almost always fall asleep for a few minutes right after they’re milked.” “Anything else?” “Just tape that diaper on him snug.” Zoe did. Patty stood first and whispered, “Let’s go wash our hands.” They retreated to the kitchen. “So,” Zoe asked as she dried her hands, “how often do they need to be milked if you do it that way?” “Every five days or so. With the other way, it’s maybe seven, so not a huge difference. If I’m leaving him in a nursery while I go on vacation, I’ll use the prostate method before I go.” “And with the clitty way, how often do they get unsolicited erections?” “It varies. But are unsolicited erections really that bad?” “No ...” She hesitated, knowing she wasn’t supposed to admit this to anyone but thinking Patty seemed like a safe person to admit it to. “I think his clitty was kind of adorable.” “Hehe. I think so too. I know we’re all supposed to be grossed out, but it’s just a clitty ... the bigger ones are kinda gross though, I’ll agree with that at least ... anyway, I milk him every five days, and if his clitty is getting hard in between a lot, I’ll do it at diaper changes, too. Not every change, but maybe once a day for two days gets him back on schedule.” “It was fun in a way.” Patty knew Zoe was saying that as someone who just did it for the first time. It would get less fun and be more like all the caregiver tasks she did for him, but she didn’t think it was no fun at all and didn’t want to discourage her. “Yeah, I think so. I like making him feel good. I am his momma after all. We gotta keep them in line, but we still love them.” “I wouldn’t mind doing that more often than every five days. It only takes a second ... And you were right. That wasn’t nearly as messy as I thought.” Patty smiled. She liked Zoe. She wanted someone gentle and willing to try new things and be open minded for Mark. Zoe had a lot to learn about man-rearing, and Patty didn’t like the idea of Zoe’s mother playing a major role in Mark’s care. She expected her mother would take over and bully her daughter into strict and clinical treatment of her Marky. But she liked Zoe. “Do you wanna wake him up,” she asked. “Sure.” They walked back into the living room, where Zoe knelt down over Mark, still conscious this was an audition for her too, and traced her finger lightly down Mark’s cheek. He turned toward her by instinct as if to root. “Marky,” she sang at a whisper. His eyes opened. “Hey, big guy.” He smiled behind his pacifier, blushed, and turned away. If Patty had taught him to count, he could’ve counted on one hand the number of women who had done that to him. “He’s so shy,” Zoe remarked as she straightened up. “Well, this is only the third time you’ve been together. He gets a lot less shy when he gets to know people.” Zoe sat down on the sofa next to Patty. “And you promise he is verbal?” “He’s a regular chatterbox when he feels comfortable around you. He knows a couple hundred words, and he can learn more ... Marky, c’mere baby.” Patty held her hands out as Mark finished his wake up stretch. He got up and sat down in his mother’s lap. “Can you thank Zoe for milking your clitty?” Mark blushed again, shook his head, and buried his face in his mother’s breast. She laughed and patted his back. “Can you at least give her a hug?” He sat up, and Zoe straightened up to receive him, opening her arms. Mark pivoted and awkwardly slid from his mother’s lap onto the sofa, putting his arms out as he leaned forward and fell into a hug low around Zoe’s waist. “Ohh huhuh. That’s a sweet man,” Zoe said she patted his back. With Patty’s help, Zoe was able to coax Mark into her lap. “That’s why training is important,” Patty said. “They’re too big to make them do anything they don’t want to do, but you can make them want to do it.” Zoe was paying more attention to the man in her lap. She noticed how sweet his hair smelled, how soft and warm he was, and the way he seemed to change from giving her a perfunctory hug because he was told to to the way he seemed to nestle his head on Zoe because he wanted to, growing cuddlier by the moment. She rubbed circles on his back, interrupted by the occasional pat. “Well,” Patty asked after a few minutes of silence. “I know what my mother would say ... Especially with him getting erections and needing to be milked more often ... But he is sweet” “Very sweet.” “And he is obedient ... he did such a good job holding still for his milking.” “And most men just can’t do that. Some even need to be restrained to keep them in place.” Though Patty suspected that said more about their wives’ prostrate massage technique, or lack thereof, than about the men’s behavior. “And he is cute.” “I can just about promise you you’re not going to find an easier husband, and I know that’s important to you for your first one. Is there anything I can say to sweeten the deal?” “I want him ... I’m just worried about my mother. She’s going to be involved a lot, especially at first … I think the milking thing would be a deal breaker for her.” It wasn’t her mother’s decision, but she had a say both by custom and because Zoe would need her to be involved. In theory she could do it all on her own, but that wouldn’t sit well with their religious community and would be tremendous challenge for a woman without a partner. “But to be clear, it’s not for you? A deal breaker, I mean?” “No, I don’t mind that.” Bad sitcom jokes and put upon wives aside, she agreed with Patty. Milking his clitty during a diaper change was just one more thing. The way he squirmed and then fell asleep was cute in its way. “What if ... what if you moved in here for the first year, rent free? You can learn all about man-rearing from me, and that way your mother doesn’t really have to be involved in anything you don’t want her to be involved in?” Patty preferred that solution to protect Mark from Zoe’s mother and the People of the Spirit, whom she heard were very communal in their man-rearing and severe in their approach to it. “That could work,” Zoe replied. “And if you do want to harvest him, I’ll even spring for the stimulator and collection device.” Zoe took a moment and began to slowly nod her head. She wanted Mark, and the living arrangement and his spermatozoa in addition to the dowry added up to quite a lot of value. “Deal.” “You’re sure your mother will approve it?” “I think so, especially if she doesn’t have to do any of the man-rearing ... And if not, her approval is just a custom, not the law. Ope!” “What?” “I think he’s pooing,” Zoe whispered. Patty smiled. “I think you’ve learned enough for one day.” She held out her hands. “C’mere, Marky. Let’s go change your stinky pants.” “Are you sure he’s done?” “I know my Marky. He will be by the time we get upstairs. Why don’t you go call your mother?” “Sounds good. Bye bye, Marky,” she waved as Patty led the waddling man upstairs. “See you at our wedding.”
  8. I deleted my old post, because I had too many errors in it. Forgive me please. Here is the newer and better version. Even if you read the last version, please re-read because a lot has changed. This whole story is based on a dream, and it is hard to translate. I had to change things to make it realistic. Hope you enjoy. Chapter 1: Graduation For the fifth day in a row, Damian awoke with his heart pounding, and his bedsheets drenched. It was the same nightmare as the nights before. He remembered being in a facility. He remembered being restrained and felt helpless, but the details of his dream were already escaping him. He groggily woke up and got out of bed. There was what he thought was sweat all over his body. He stood up, and pulled his covers back. He smelled the bed and was grateful that it was only sweat. Already the memory of the dream was escaping him. Thank God he only sweated the bed. Damian grabbed the towel he kept beside his bed on a nightstand and started drying himself off. Today was his big day. Finally time to graduate college. He pulled back the covers and smelled his bed again. Yep, no scent of urine he thought. Two days in a row without wetting my bed he thought. If not for these nightmares, life would be perfect. While Damian was thrilled that he didn't wet the bed, he was concerned about these nightmares and his sweat soaked sheets. It felt so real. As his nightmare started to fade away, and as he dried off the sweat, the one thing he didn't forget was the face of Raphael. Looking at him was like looking in the mirror. In his morning haze, Damian also seemed to remember Raphael was strangely clothed in what looked like a giant diaper. Raphael told him right before he woke up, "your life is about to change." "Damian, breakfast is ready!" yelled his sometimes overbearing mother. " I'm coming! " replied Damian, as he removed his wet pajamas, and dried off his sweat soaked body. He put on some clean clothes. Instinctively, he threw the duvet over the wet spot on his matress from the sweat so that it wasn't visible. Damian wet his bed his whole life, and even though his parents did nothing to help him, he still tried to hide it. He was just happy that today it was only sweat, and he wouldn't need to turn the matress over AGAIN."Eggs and bacon" said his mom. Damian pretended to be happy, but these nightmares disturbed him. They seemed so real. He didn't have much of an appetite, but ate half of his breakfast. "I'm full" he said, and stood up ready to walk away. "Are you sure? You barely touched your breakfast," responded Mom. "Yeah mom, I'm good" he said. "I just feel nervous for graduating and I am not sure where I am going next." "Well, I'm sure with your grades and charisma, finding a job won't be hard" his mom said reassuringly. Damian went to his college that morning, and it was graduation day. It was his happiest day yet. All of his classmates arrived. He had spent 4 years waiting for this day. His best friend, Magnus greeted him. "Well, I guess our paths split here," he said. " No! We can still be friends! " replied Damian. "Don't be silly. You and I are on totally different paths, and I will be on a different continent" said Magnus. "We talked about this before, and you know our lives are going to change," said Magnus. "I know, but we can still keep in contact" said Damian. "Of course we can" Magnus replied. The graduation speaker then started to talk. It was a run of the mill graduation speech. Damian didn't focus much on the spech. What bothered him was these nightmares. They seemed so real and vivid. He couldn't stop dwelling on it. As the speaker went into his closing notes, Damian's reality started to fade out. He found himself feeling lighter, and his surroundings quickly disappeared, leaving him floating in darkness. He tried to touch himself, but his hand passed through his body. Am I dreaming again he thought? Maybe this is some kind of astral projection he thought.
  9. I am really excited to have started this project. I am hoping I actually have the spirit to finish this one because I really have a clear idea of what is happening with the characters, what I want to have happen. I am already writing Chapter Seven and I have just added Chapter five below. Yes, I took the warning about abuse off, because I don't think I'm getting too deep into it, however, there is mention of it especially in October's Story, I think that's Chapter Two, though it's not traditional hitting or anything sexual.... It's really just brain games, but abuse and mean just the same. Jessica was abused, too, but I've only really touched the surface with it to this point. When I do get to the point where I'll explain it in detail, I'll try to remember to give warning, though in Chapter six or seven, there is a glimpse of it when she describes how she ended up in jail while on the bus with everyone. To help the reader, I have specially made little headers here and there where I tell the story from a certain character's point of view. Since I switch a lot between views, it is important to pay attention to the red tags with main character names. Brenda: The header will look something like the name above, Brenda, after which, the story will be told from Brenda's point of a view for a few paragraphs, and then a new name header will appear with the story from that person's point of view. I think this is the best way to give the complete story without making it seem like one character knows everything! Finished through: Chapter Eleven/Twelve for previewing: Working on: Chapter Thirteen Proof Reading: Chapter Twelve-- Expect this to change soon. please tell me if you catch any mistakes while you are reading.... The Kid Rescue Program (KRP) Table of Contents: The Main Characters: Adam Imelda age: 10 Robyn Jessica age:11 Brenda: Anna age 10: Jason: October age:11 Chapters and Page Numbers: Chapters layout page 2 Chapter One page 3 Kid Rescue Program Chapter Two page 13 October’s Story Chapter Three page 25 Dividing the Responsibilities Chapter Four page 41 Healthy Fifth Graders Don’t… Chapter Five page 63 Little Girls know where the Carmel Is Chapter Six page 87 Misadventures of House Alpha-G Chapter Seven page 123 School Troubles Chapter Eight page 160 Trouble for Adam Chapter Nine page 192 Surviving School Chapter Ten page 248 Play Time Chapter Eleven page 290 Jessica's Revelation Chapter Twelve page 333 Justice Seeks its own End Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter One: Kid Rescue Program Adam Adam frowned as four little girls were led into his office by six male officers of the law, all of them bound with their hands in front of them, and their ankles also bounded. He knew that these girls were coming from jail, and had only served one to ten days of their sentences, and so were a flight risk, but still…. They were only ten or eleven years old, and they were certainly no match for the people in charge of them. Surely, it wasn’t necessary to bind them like that. What was more, Adam shook his head at it, was that every one of the girls had peed her pants, and he was sure that that had to do with something the guards must have forced. One, maybe her fault, but all four? That was ridiculous. “Is there a reason you didn’t stop and let the children use the bathroom on the way here?” Adam asked the officers. “We were told that the house we were taking the children to would have a young man in charge of it, so the people in charge thought we were escorting boys. When we started to pick them up, and we called it in, it was too late to change officers, so we didn’t have anyone to escort them to the toilets. We are not allowed to leave them alone outside of the jail or until we get them signed into your custody, so we didn’t dare let them out of the van.” Adam sighed. “That’s stupid! They should have been told that this is a girls’ dorm. Yes, it has me running this house, but all of the houses have two men and two women running them for the kids’ benefit. The program is supposed to show the kids good role models with both genders so that they can compare that to what they have lived in so far. I swear, the government is so stupid sometimes.” Adam signed the papers that transferred custody of the four girls from the officers to House Alpha-G. He knew that continuing to complain to these officers was pointless. They were just doing what they were told, but he really wanted to complain to the people in charge about mixing up the police department like that and making these little girls shame themselves! “Have a seat,” Adam told the four little girls gesturing at the chairs on the other side of his desk. “I know you are uncomfortable and embarrassed, but the sooner we can get the business part of the orientation over with, the sooner we can get you kids out of those dirty clothes, okay?” The girls seemed too nervous, too embarrassed, too… something, to argue about sitting down like they were. Judging from how they just hung their heads and waited for Adam to continue as though resigned to their fate, Adam wondered how long they had already been in those soaked pants. Still, he had to do things properly or he could get in trouble…. Jessica: Jessica sat down in one of the middle seats, feeling her wet pants squelch in the seat under her. Fearful blue eyes kept looking at her wet lap, and her darker yellow blond hair hung in a messy stingy mess around her face as they had taken her hairband and anything else she would have used to tie her hair up for fear it could be a weapon. She had been sentenced to six years for stabbing a man with a pair of scissors just three days prior to being loaded into a van, driven around to pick up three other kids from other jails in different towns, and then finally taken to this place where she would serve the rest of her sentence. She didn’t know much about this place yet, only that it was something like juvenile jail. All through the van ride that had lasted about thirty hours, she had not been allowed to leave the van or even the very seat she was sitting on for any reason. They brought her food to eat there, and they made sure she had plenty to drink, but it lacked a bathroom. Even after a teary eyed plea for over an hour, they wouldn’t relent, and she peed herself for the first time since she had been potty trained. After that, because it was thirty hours after all, she couldn’t help it three more times really causing her to feel ashamed and scared. Now, they finally had her at her destination, but proper procedures were far more important than her or the other girls’ dignities. She sighed and waited to hear what the young man in front of her had to say. Adam: The more Adam looked at these innocent looking faces, and thought about the files that he was given, the more he felt that a mistake had been made about all of them. Even the most violent one, or the one with the most serious charge, anyway, just sat there quietly while he explained the house rules to her, even though she was forced to sit in pee soaked pants. “Because you have all been found guilty of serious charges, they have had to make a choice about whether to send you to adult prison, or to put you in this program. Your charges are too serious to put you with other kids in kid-jail. Because of that, we big people in this program have total responsibility over you and everything you do,” Adam started to explain. “First of all, privacy is not a right here, it is a privilege. It can only be earned by doing what you are told and earning our trust to let you do certain things on your own….” Adam hated telling the kids that, but it was a rule that he, himself had to follow, not something he had decided on. He was in this program to get credits for a social research class in order to earn a license as a juvenile delinquent social worker. “Now, each of you kids will…,” and he noticed that one of the kids had timidly raised her hand a bit and looked up at him hopefully. “Yes? Is it important?” he asked the little Mexican looking thinner girl with black hair and sullen face. The girl started to shake her head ‘no’, but put both her hands between her legs. “Do you have to use the bathroom?” he asked her. The little girl nodded. “What is your name, honey?” “Imelda,” she whimpered slightly. He pulled open her file and glanced at it to remind himself of which kid this was. He smiled up at her. “Well, that seems pretty important to me,” he told her. “If it was me, I’d say it was important, honey. Stand up and come with me.” The girl smiled ever so slightly at him. Adam put his arm around the little girl’s shoulder, and he directed her towards an open doorway behind the chairs that the girls sat in. There was no door to close off the room he took her to, but he pointed out a toilet for her, and stood by the doorway so he could keep an eye on her and the others sitting at by the desk who were now looking at him. Imelda looked up at him hesitating. “I’m sorry,” Adam explained. “I told you, privacy is something you will have to earn. If you want to pee, you can do it now, or you can do it later, but either way, you will not have any privacy, honey.” She nodded and looking down at the floor, walked to the toilet. She stood in front of it for a minute, looked back at him, and then shook her head and walked back to him. “You’re scared to pull your pants down because I’m watching, aren’t you?” he asked her. “Yes,” she whispered. “But also I have to pull these back up. It’s going to be harder pulling them back up than just wetting my pants again.” Adam shook his head. “You won’t have to pull them back up, sweetie. I promise. I’ll get you something else to wear if you pull them down to pee.” Imelda looked up at him, her innocent eyes shining for a minute. Then she whispered. “Do you have to watch?” He nodded. “I’m sorry, but yes, until you get our trust, someone will always have to watch, honey.” She nodded and went back to the toilet to pull her pants and undies down. “Are you going to stay way over there?” she asked. He nodded. “I have to watch the other girls too, and can’t see them if I go all the way in there with you, so yes, I’ll be right here at the doorway the whole time.” With that reassurance, she finally pulled down her soaked jeans and panties and sat on the toilet to pee. “Just take them all the way off,” Adam told her. “You can’t pull those things back up, and the only one to see you naked from the bottom down right now, is me and the other girls, who are girls, honey.” Imelda nodded and pulled her pants the rest of the way off before peeing into the toilet. Then she looked up at him. “If you are done, wipe yourself with toilet paper, and then I’ll take you girls into the other room where I have some clean clothes for all of you.” Imelda smiled and nodded. He was doing this sort of out of order. Technically, he should have probably made her pull her pants up again and continued the business side of the orientation before changing the girls, but he knew that he couldn’t bring himself to forcing her to pulling those soaked pants back up, and he saw the other girls, and knew they were uncomfortable, too. As he looked over at the other girls, his heart shuddered. One of them had pee pouring off the back of her chair, but she didn’t even bother to stand up, to try to hide what she was doing, or to ask to use the potty. She just peed her pants like that. Adam let Imelda come to him, and then he motioned for the other girls to come closer. “What’s your name?” he asked the blond who had shorter hair and was looking way under-weight. She was the one that had just peed her pants in front of him. “October?” she whimpered. “It’s okay, honey. You didn’t know you could use the toilet until the other girl was already in the toilet, did you?” She shook her head no. “Anyone else want to use the bathroom before we go get you kids cleaned up?” Jessica stepped forward and he stepped aside to let her pass. The other Mexican girl, this one heavyset, with a heavy big brownish head kept looking down at the floor, and sniffled a bit when she saw that two of the girls were allowed to pee in the toilet. “You must be Anna?” Adam tried to confirm the heavier Mexican girl’s name, but she didn’t look at him until he said her name. “Don’t you speak English?” he asked her. She shook her head no. She understood a few words like ‘speak’ and ‘English’, but mostly, was at a loss when it came to speaking the language. Her file said that her family had illegally immigrated to the United States just six months before, so it made sense that she didn’t speak the language well. Adam put his arm around the girl and whispered. “It’s okay.” As he did so, he smelled her, and what he smelled made him nearly gag. The girl had not only wet her pants, but had pooped on herself as well. No wonder she was upset at seeing the other kids could use the bathroom. How long had she been in messy pants? He shook his head and sighed. “It’s okay, Anna. It’s okay.” After Jessica had finished, he gestured for Anna to go, but she just shook her head. She didn’t seem to have to go now. Maybe she had just done it in her pants a little before they dropped the kids in his care like that…. Either way it was time to get these kids cleaned up. Two of them were naked from the bottom down, and two of them were still in wet or messy pants. Adam wiggled his “come here” forefinger at the girls as he directed them at the archway directly across the archway that went to the toilet. Through this one, there was a bedroom-like feel to it with a bed covered in a plastic sheet and sheet over that to be laid on, a dresser next to it with diapers on it and wet wipes, and there were several unpacked boxes around the rest of the room blocking them from the closet on the other side of the room. “You first,” he motioned to Imelda. “You’ve been naked longer than Jessica and probably want your modesty back. Get on the bed and lay down.” “I thought you were just going to hand me….” “Honey, please get on the bed,” Adam said a little stern scold in his voice. “I’ll explain what we are going to do in a minute.” He reached into the dresser and pulled out an apron handing it to Jessica. “Here, put that on for now, and I’ll get you dressed right after I get Imelda finished.” “So, you are actually going to dress us?” Imelda asked as she climbed on the bed. “I told you, I’ll explain everything once you’ve obeyed, me, sweetie. Now, this would have been easier for you girls to have understood had I been able to finish the orientation first, but it seems all four of you had to pee again, and while that’s not your fault, I can’t just leave you there to suffer while I take an hour or two to talk, especially with you trying to hold it so that two of you ended up peeing your pants again, now can I?” He got some wet wipes and started towards Imelda. “This is going to be embarrassing, honey. I know you are not a baby, but we have some rules that we have to follow. These are not just my rules, but rules of the program. You girls cannot be trusted with certain things until you prove to your guardian that you are trustworthy again….” “What does not trusting us have to do with cleaning ourselves and changing our own clothes?” Jessica interrupted. Adam patiently listened to her question knowing that he would likely do the same if the situation were reversed. “Well, one of the ways you can show us that you are ready to be good girls and not get in trouble, is by obeying your guardian all the time. Obeying your guardian means letting them take care of certain things when you make mistakes, or when bad things happen to you. Right now, every one of you kids are wet. It’s not something you did, but something bad did happen to you, right?” He looked Jessica in the eye waiting her response. Jessica looked straight back at him, quiet for several minutes, and then she finally looked at the floor and nodded. Jessica: The man had just approached one of the other girls, the other naked girl with wet wipes and a diaper, and Jessica spoke up trying to save her the humiliation of not only having to wear a diaper, but have it put on her like a baby. Not only that, but she knew she would be next, so by saving the other girl, she was really trying to save herself, too. “What does not trusting us have to do with whether we change our clothes?” she had asked him thinking that it made sense and that he would have to back off. Adam smiled at her and showing a lot of patience, he then began to explain his logic. Jessica shook her head as she heard him, but in the end, they started at each other for several minutes, and Jessica really couldn’t say that something bad had not happened. They were all in wet pants. That was bad. She just finally looked down and knew that he had won this round. Jessica watched as the guy with brown hair, a narrow face with big blue eyes and a few freckles, and very fit on top of it, though not bulging with muscles then turn back towards the Mexican girl on the bed and he put the wet wipes down next to her and took her hands. “Honey,” Adam said patiently and calmly. “Do you want to go around all afternoon and evening naked?” for she had started to try to cover her privates with her hands and close her legs so he couldn’t clean her up or put the diaper on her. Imelda looked up at him with large almond amber eyes and a soft frown that looked scared. “Of course you don’t,” Adam whispered to her. “If you cooperate, this will be all over in minutes, and then after I finish the orientation and hand each of you to your guardians, your guardians can decide whether you stay in the diaper or they let you change into some panties, okay?” Imelda heard what he was saying as well as Jessica did. Jessica frowned, but if letting him clean her up would make it go faster, and if they could get to their real guardian as soon as he was done with orientation, then she would cooperate if not just to the have the chance to argue with her guardian that she didn’t need diapers, and that she only wet her pants because she was stuck in the car since the night before yesterday. Apparently, Imelda thought the same after a few minutes, and Jessica saw her relax her legs and let Adam start to clean her up. Jessica looked down at the floor knowing that she was next, and she played with her fingers as she sniffled a little. Tears came to her eyes long before it was her turn to lay on the bed. She was definitely next, and she was going to be in a diaper sooner than later…. Chapter Two October’s Story October: For October, when the man took each girl in turn and put her in a diaper, finally getting to her, putting her on her back, and then starting to undo her pants, this was nothing new…. Two years before being convicted of stealing, the third grader had met the man that would be her stepdad. He was very nice to her at first, as she remembered it, and she didn’t really remember him ever being that mad at her or actually hitting her like some men do kids that aren’t theirs. “Is that your little October?” the strange man sitting in her almost empty living room for it looked as though a robber had been through the house while she was at school, ask. He had brown hair and brown eyes, but she mostly liked his friendly smile. “That’s her,” her mother had said. “That’s October!” October had just come in from riding her bike home from school, and was expecting to see her mom talking with a friend, but as it was, the house was now nearly empty. “What’s going on, mommy?” she asked her mother. “Honey, remember I told you we may have to move sooner than later?” she asked. “Mommy got a letter this morning, so I called on my very good friend, Jack, to see if he had any ideas….” His idea, was that the family come and live with him. He was more than a friend, and within two weeks, he and her mother were married, not that October had a problem with it at the time. He was very nice to her mom, and he always had time to listen to her when she talked about school. She was overjoyed, and had started to like the idea of him being her daddy within those two weeks that they had before it was sealed and official. A week after they got married, however, a few things started to change for the then eight year old girl. October had just come home from school on her bike as she always did, but her mom’s car was still missing. Only her stepdad’s truck was in the driveway. Without thinking too much about it, the young girl walked into the house and put her bag on the floor, and then went to the kitchen where she found stepdaddy cooking. “October,” he said sounding somewhat serious. “Yes, daddy?” He turned off the stove, and then held his hand out for her. He wanted her to take it, just like he did when she crossed the road when he took her for walks on Saturdays. “What’s wrong?” she wondered starting to feel a bit nervous at his actions. They were home. There was no reason for him to want her to take his hand, was there? She complied though not wanting to make him mad. He then walked her down to the laundry room, and then on top of the dryer, she saw three pairs of her panties lying on the machine, and each one stained kind of funny. “Explain to me why these panties were pushed behind the dryer instead of in the dirty clothes,” he demanded of her. October shrugged. She really didn’t know. She didn’t put them there, or at least, she didn’t remember putting them there…. “You’re lying,” the man went on without her voicing anything but just taking her shrug as an ‘I don’t know.’ “You pissed your pants and tried to hide it, didn’t you?” October’s mouth dropped. She hadn’t wet the bed since she was six, or at least she didn’t think she did. And it had been much longer than that since she had had an accident in her pants. At least that’s how she remembered it. “Pull down your jeans,” her stepdad said sounding like he was not going to take no for an answer, and sounding dangerously mad if she refused what she thought he thought was a reasonable request. October, shaking a bit, pulled down her pants for him, and he inspected her jeans first and then her undies. “Pull down your panties,” he said. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “Please, no, daddy!” “No?” he demanded. “No? Why not?” She was shaking. She didn’t know what to say or expect, but she was scared that he intended to do something strange. Never had anyone told her to pull her pants down before, at least not since she could remember. “Pull them down right now, or else….” He threatened. October pulled her panties down and then he looked into them and nodded. “Just as I thought,” he told her. He grabbed her shaking hand and made her touch the middle of her panties where she felt something a little moist and slimy. What was more, as she stood there, fear numbing the pains and warnings her in her stomach, she soon became aware of a fountain starting to come from her privates peeing all over the floor. “You’re peeing, again, and if I had not had you pull down your pants, you’d have just been peeing through your clothes, but look at you! Your still getting it all over them because you are still standing, little girl!” October started to cry. The man softened and he bent down the moment she stopped peeing. He reached for her little hands, and he pulled her to stand in front of him. “I’m not mad about the pee on the floor,” he told her. “I’m not even mad about the three pair of previously wet panties. What I am mad about, is your hiding them, baby.” She didn’t know what to say. If she had not just peed on herself and all over the floor, she would have told him she had not peed herself, and she had not hidden them as there was nothing to hide, but now she had wet, and her panties she had dropped to her knees were as stained as the ones on the dryer, and she now knew that it did indeed look like she had peed her pants several times. If he really did find them behind the dryer like that, then she could see why he thought she had peed her pants…. About a year after he had found the stained panties and started to believe she was peeing her pants, and even doing it on purpose, she had gotten used to him making her come to him in the morning to check her panties before she could go to the bathroom to pee. Sometimes, that lead to leaking in her panties so badly, that he would again remind her that he knew she was just a baby and couldn’t help it, and the main reason he was checking her was not to see if she was wet, but to make sure she didn’t try to hide it or lie to him because he also knew she was getting older and that it embarrassed her. One day, during that year, she didn’t know whose idea it was, but her old friend from her old school was invited to stay the night with her. Because she had not wanted her friend to think she was a baby, she hid anything that she could to draw attention to her friend that she might still be peeing her pants even if it was true. Somehow, she had survived the two day sleepover without her friend discovering her peeing her pants even if stepdaddy called her to the bathroom to check her. He didn’t tell her why she had to go to the bathroom with him, and her friend didn’t ask, so she hoped that her friend wasn’t the wiser, however, that had caused another problem two days after her friend had gone home. October was standing then, a fourth grader and around ten years old. She had come home in the afternoon after school to find her stepdaddy in a mood that scared her much like the first time he found out she was leaking in her panties. Eventually, she did just accept that maybe she was leaking pee in her panties because she was almost always wet when he checked her. “October, come with me,” he said with the same air as the year before, only this time, he took her to her room. She saw on her bed, a pair of wet in jeans and two pair of panties one of which had dried poop on them. “I thought you knew the rule,” he told her. “I don’t mind if you pee your pants because you are just a baby and can’t help it, but you don’t hide it and lie to me….” October started to open her mouth to explain that she had not hidden the clothes from him, but he shushed her. “Don’t say another word right now,” he told her. “You are tempted to lie to me, and I don’t want you to do that because then I’ll have to punish you even harsher.” She became quiet. “Since you hid these things in your closet so I wouldn’t see that you pooped your pants at school or something, and mainly, I just want you to be up front about your accidents and tell me when you are wet or messy, your punishment is that you cannot wear any pants or a skirt around the house. Take off your skirt, right now.” She felt tears stinging her eyes. She had hidden the messy clothes, but they were clothes he had already seen. She had only meant to hide them from her friend, but she was afraid of making him mad by back talking and making him think she was lying, so she just pulled down her skirt and took it off so he could see her still dry panties. That wasn’t the end of it though. Later, because he was now watching her the rest of the day closely, she wasn’t allowed to play, not that she’d want to go outside anyway in just panties, but she was in front of him all the time, and he wouldn’t even let her use the toilet without asking him. Eventually, during that same evening as she was first caught and punished for hiding poopy panties, something she had done while she waited for him to check her a couple of mornings before, she had to use the bathroom badly. He was talking to her mom, so she knew better than to interrupt, and when it became unbearable, she just peed her pants right there in front of him and her mother like a three year old. Of course, tears had streamed down her face as she peed, and only her whimpering finally got his attention so that when she went over to him all soaked, he shook his head at her and told her mom that she needed to learn to be a good girl. “This kid hides her dirty things, pees her pants without telling us, and then cries about it like this. If she would just behave, and notice for herself when to use the bathroom and you know….” He went on with her other misdeeds…. “She wouldn’t be in this situation wetting her pants right there in front of us in nothing but panties on, would she?” It seemed her mother had to agree with him. “I want her to learn better than to hide her wet or messy panties from us. The only way she’s going to do that, is if we teach her that something will happen that she doesn’t like if she makes mistakes….” Her mother nodded. “I don’t want her going to her own room to sleep tonight,” he was starting to form a new plan to punish her. Her mother agreed with everything he said and did. “Actually, she can just stay up all night standing next to my side of the bed, that way, I’ll see if she’s peed herself if I wake up in the night.” Still, her mommy agreed with him, and October could only look at the floor knowing that he was just trying to teach her to be a good girl. She wanted to be a good girl. She liked him most of the time. Most of the time, he bought her nice things and made her feel happy. It was only when she did things like this, that he would have to punish her that made her feel really sad. It must have been her fault for being a baby. That night, because he never really blamed her for peeing her pants, and never thought to think about water after a certain time was the problem, or try to in anyway change her diet or hydration schedule, he had had her drink the usual cup of juice about an hour and a half before bed, and then some milk just before bed. She never understood why he insisted that she could drink these things at this time, but it seemed like he took care of her in other ways, so that it just made sense to her that he was trying to keep her healthy. The juice and the milk, however, also had the effect of making her have to pee in the night sometimes, and this night in particular, when she was not allowed to sleep, and so her body was not slowing down enough to delay the need, she found herself standing in the dark room facing her sleeping daddy doing a potty dance. He expected her to pee anyway, and while she was sure he would not be that upset by her peeing her pants, she couldn’t just do it on purpose. She was not a baby, and she really wanted to prove that. Well, maybe not really, but either way, her body did. It wouldn’t relax even if she wanted it to. It was hard to know what time it was when she first felt her panties get a little warm and moist from a small amount leaking past before she was able to cut it off. But seeing that the sun was nowhere near paling the colors of the bedroom curtains, she knew that she would be all wet before morning. She had tried to keep herself awake and keep her mind off of her aching bladder for a long time by playing head games with herself, playing house with her imagination where she was the parent and was telling her own little child the same things her stepdaddy was teaching her. She would try to remember something for a big test. She would think and think until a strong urge made her crouch in anticipation, a little bit more leaked, and then she would hold it a bit longer. Eventually, just as the light started to pale against the curtain, she felt her body at its limit. It was tired, it ached from holding it so long, and it just couldn’t stop the explosion of the bursting dam that quickly poured down her legs like a torrential rainfall and make a huge lake on the floor, the strumming of water beating against the carpet waking her stepdaddy. He opened his eyes just a moment before the clock blared at him. He sat up shutting off the alarm, and then he motioned for her to come towards him. He put her in his lap and felt the front of her panties. “You peed?” She nodded. “You didn’t sleep in the night, did you?” She shook her head. “If I find out you lied about sleeping, you know what happened last night because you lied….” She nodded. “Now is your chance. Did you sleep any in the night? Did you close your eyes at all?” She shook her head no violently. She didn’t! She shook! Even if she had not just peed herself moments before, she would have been wet now because his line of questioning was scaring her. “Stand up,” he pushed her off of his lap, but then grabbed her around her bottom and forced her in front of him. He kept his hands on her wet bottom causing her to blush more though he always did that when she peed her pants. “I’m glad you didn’t try to change your panties and try to hide the wet ones so I wouldn’t see,” he patted her soaked panties. “If you are telling me the truth about not sleeping in the night…, and I have a mind to believe you because you look tired and you didn’t hide your wet panties on me, then you are a good girl!” He kissed her forehead. “Do you want to sleep?” he asked her. “What… what about school?” she yawned. “What about it?” he asked her. “Do you think you can stay awake at school?” She shook her head no. “I don’t think so, either. You can miss one day, but never lie to me again or you will go to school and if you fall asleep in class, you will be in trouble, understand?” October nodded. “Now, go to your room, and go to sleep. No point in changing your panties yet because you always wet the bed, baby.” And so, now here she was, in the fifth grade, now lying on the bed waiting for this guy to change her wet in pants. It really didn’t feel much different than waiting for her daddy to change her, except he wasn’t reminding her that she was a baby. He wasn’t telling her that she was too stupid to not pee herself, and he wasn’t being harsh at all. Soon enough, she was cleaned up, and it was the big Mexican girl’s turn, the one that had pooped her panties. Adam’s View: While the young twenty four year old college student had not expected all of this to be very easy, and counted on having the girls fight him on every turn as he tried to change them into diapers, the most surprising thing was that October had not fought him at all. While Imelda tried to hold her hands over her privates when she thought he was not paying attention to that part, and she wiggled a bit making putting the diaper on her hard, and she complained about it making her feel like a baby, October just laid there and let him do what he wanted. While Jessica had been even more squirmy as he tried to put the diaper on her, and she kept asking why they had to wear a diaper in the first place, why he had to change them and treat them like babies, and she kicked some and kept pulling at the diaper, pulling it out of place so he had to start over with her three different times to get it on her, October did nothing! October just laid there, and though she did look the other way so she didn’t have to see who was changing her out of wet pants, and she blushed when he pulled a diaper on her, she didn’t fight it at all. Adam shook his head at her acceptance. Even if she knew it was impossible to fight, she still should have put up a lot more resistance. Something was wrong! Something was definitely not right with her. He stood her up, and again, unlike the other girls who were trying to cross their legs, put their hands over the fronts of their diapers, and do whatever else they could manage to think of to hide them, October just stood there as if she had her jeans on. He sighed and turned his attention to the very messy bigger girl. “Your turn,” he said. Though he quickly learned that she couldn’t really speak English, he also learned that she was very quick in picking up what was about to happen. She kept her hands in front of her pants as he laid her down, and she was twice as hard to get out of her messy panties as any of the others had been. She kept grabbing at the wet wipes wanting to wipe herself instead, and she kept kicking and squirming on the bed when he tried to put the diaper on her. In the end, he had to make her stand up and diaper her that way because it seemed the only way that he could get control of her. When they were finally done changing the girls, Adam brought them all back to the first office room and had them sit in the now nearly dried out chairs. “Now, as I tried to explain in the bedroom when I changed you, if you need to be cleaned up, your guardian will decide if you can do it, or if they have to help you. Since you had peed your pants this time, I had to do it….” Adam wanted to get through the rest of the orientation as soon as possible and get some private time with his own little so as to get her used to him before he would have to intrude on her privacy again to either bathe her or take her to the bathroom again. He finally finished talking about the rules and made all the girls sign the papers, except for Anna. He would need someone to translate for her before he could make her sign. He would likely need to call the head office to send a translator over, but that would have to wait for later. Finally, he took the girls out of the office, and through the kitchen to the stairs and up to the second floor of the three story home. There, three other college kids were watching television waiting on him. Chapter Three Dividing the Responsibilities Adam: Adam lined the children up, and then he started to call the house guardians to get their charge. “Robyn,” he started. Robyn was a tall redhead with lots of freckles and green eyes. She had a serious face that didn’t look like it took much guff from people, and she didn’t even smile at the kids at first. “You get Jessica,” Adam nodded at Jessica who stepped forward to meet her guardian. “Just so you know, Jessica is the one with the violent history in her file, so if you have any real problems, don’t try to force her yourself. Secure her, and then get me as soon as you can.” Robyn nodded as she walked over and squatted down to Jessica finally offering a slight smile though not overtly friendly. “I hope we can get along well,” she said as though this was the only time she was going to say this, and the girl better understand. “I am sure you don’t want any trouble, and neither do I.” Adam continued with the next name. “Brenda,” he looked kind of sorry at her. “Your little is going to be Anna. Now, Anna doesn’t speak any English, so you will have to be really patient when you try to explain things to her.” Brenda smiled broadly. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” she said brightly taking her hands. “Come here, honey,” she cooed at the girl as she took her where she had been sitting and put her in her lap. Jason, the only adult blond with blue eyes sat on the edge of his seat wondering if he was going to get the mellow blond that just looked down at her shoes or if he was going to get the wide-eyed skinny Mexican looking girl who couldn’t seem to stop looking around at everything to get a bearing on her surroundings. “Jason…, you will have October,” he gestured to the quiet blond girl who stared at her feet. Jason rushed forward and he squatted down to her. Putting a hand on her head, he asked her. “Can I pick you up?” October looked up at him seeming to consider his strange request. After some time, she just nodded and blushed while he did just that. He lifted her up and carried her back to where he was sitting. Robyn had Jessica sitting next to her not in any mood to baby her, at least not just then. That’s when Imelda realized that the same guy that told them what the rules were, and how everything worked, the same man that was in charge of the whole house, was also going to be her guardian. She gulped. Adam bent down just as she gulped, and he nodded. “Yes, honey, you are going to be my little girl while I’m studying childcare in the program.” Imelda sighed. He reached his hand out to her, and it seemed that she accepted it because she took his in return and let him lead her where he would sit in front of everyone, her standing between his legs as he spoke. “Now, everyone knows who they are going to primarily be responsible for, it is time we divide up the chores of the house among the kids….” “Excuse me,” Jason interrupted. “I know we need to teach them to be good girls, but they just got here, and they are as confused if not more than we were when we first arrived. Don’t you think they can skip a few days before having to worry about chores?” “While I sympathize with what you are saying,” Adam explained. “It is best to make sure that things get as normal and stable for them sooner than later as possible. With that in mind, I do expect you to treat them the same tonight as you want them to expect the rest of their stay here. It will be a lot less confusing to them if they know if you are strict from the very beginning.” Jason nodded. None of the adults questioned Adam putting all the girls in diapers, though, and they spent the next twenty minutes assigning each room chores for the week. It turned out that each of the girls would stay in the same rooms as their guardians, and all the chores were assigned by room, so that meant the guardian was in charge of a chore being done, and more likely, it was the child that had to carry out doing it. Half an hour later, Adam looked around at the house members, and he sighed. “Now, the poor girls have been through a lot today, and I have a feeling that all of them want to change out of their diapers. I’m not going to tell you what to do with your own charge, only that you are free to decide for yourselves whether they should be changed out of the diapers or not. I will tell you that while we were in the meeting, with the bathroom right there in sight, October wet herself, and I’m not sure when it happened, but Anna had done more than pee herself either on the way here or maybe in the office. That might help you make up your minds. The other two girls, I have no reason to believe that they would have been wet had they not had to travel by van with no bathroom in it for over thirty hours. The officers in the van didn’t let them go because somehow, they got it confused that they were to pick up boys, and when they found out it was girls, they were told to go through with the delivery anyway.” Adam then reached out his hand for Imelda to take it, and he stood up ending the meeting. The others started to stand up and lead their charges to their own rooms. October: When Jason had led October, not to the steps for the third floor, but down the hall instead and to one of the doors, unlocked it, and then shuttled her inside, she breathed a little sigh. She looked up her new guardian, this yellow haired Jason. “Hey, sweetie, don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you in a diaper,” he told her. “I don’t care if you did just pee your pants in view of a toilet, I’m sure there was a good reason for it.” October just looked at the ground the whole time not wanting to tell him that the real reason was that she was a stupid baby like her stepdad always told her that she was. “Can you come over here?” he asked her taking her into the first room of their suite, this one set up more like a small study for two people with two desks, bookshelves, a small TV and sofa, and other relaxing things in it. “I want to take you into the bedroom area, so I can change you out of that, if you are okay with that.” The rooms that they were assigned had the same feel and design as the office below. There was a bedroom room where two beds were fit into the room with two dressers and closets with stuff in them and there was a toilet room with no door against the opposite wall of the first room from the bedroom doorway. October shrugged and walked with him to the bedroom. She was used to people changing her pants. It didn’t bother one way or the other who changed her, and she didn’t care if he left the diaper on her or took it off. It was all the same to her. Her opinion didn’t matter. Jason sat down on the bed first and patted next to him so she sat. “Before I take your diaper off, I want to explain a few things to you,” he said. “First of all, I don’t think you are a baby. That’s why I’m taking your diaper off of you. You deserve to be treated as much like a fifth grader as I can get away with. Secondly, while I want to treat you like a big kid, because you were sent her for doing something really bad, I have a responsibility to watch you, and for at least the first two weeks, unfortunately, that means watching you use the bathroom, giving you bathes, and even changing your clothes if you pee them for some reason. I am hoping this is the only time I have to change you because of peeing though, okay?” October looked down. He was going to be disappointed in her real quick. She would be peeing her pants later. She knew she would because she was just a stupid baby. She couldn’t help wetting her pants because she was a baby, but she didn’t say anything. He could find out soon enough and it was too shameful to tell him that she couldn’t be trusted to act like a big kid. He had to watch her, or she might hide her wet panties on him like she did her stepdad making him punish her. She hoped Jason would watch her so she didn’t make him mad. Jason seemed to take her silence as consent, and he asked her lay back, which she did a little too willingly. Jason frowned at her. She wasn’t sure if his frown meant she did something wrong, so she sat up again and tears came to her eyes. He picked her up and put her in his lap. He started to rub her back. “It’s okay,” he cooed at her. “I know you’re not a baby, and I know all this is really embarrassing, but I have to do what they tell me, too, honey. I promise, I’ll be as fast as I can about changing you. I don’t want you to feel like a baby….” That was more than she could handle. She was a baby! Her stepdad said so, and her mommy agreed with him on everything! She was a baby! Why didn’t he get it? If he didn’t think she was a baby, was he going to punish her for peeing her pants, and not just lying about it? Jason rocked her and rubbed her back. He kept rubbing his hand in circles on her back which had a calming effect in the way that he wasn’t scolding her, but also confused her because he was treating her just like her stepdad did when she acted like a baby in front of him. “You’re not a baby,” Jason kept cooing at her. “We just have to get through this trial period, and then you can take care of changing yourself. I’m sure you won’t get in anymore big trouble, honey.” October shivered. She wasn’t sure what she wanted Jason to say, really, but he definitely wasn’t saying what she was used to. If he said it was okay because she WAS a baby, then it would have relaxed her a lot more, but he seemed to think it was better to tell her that she wasn’t a baby. He seemed to think that she needed to be treated like a big girl. Do big girls get harsh punishments for peeing their pants? She was too scared to ask him that though. It seemed, eventually, that Jason caught on that rubbing her back and telling her she wasn’t a baby wasn’t working, so he just stood her up, and led her to the dressers where she was surprised to find some clothes already stocked up for her. None of the clothes were things she recognized, but they were definitely her size. How did they know to put things her size in Jason’s room if Adam just decided who was with who on the spot a little earlier? Maybe they had known a little more than they let on earlier? Jason then pulled off her diaper, and then he took off her clothes she had on for nearly thirty hours in the van leaving her completely naked. He reached in a dresser and got her a clean t-shirt and then some panties. She knew better than to fight him, and she let him dress her just like she did with her stepdaddy. Once he had her in panties and t-shirt, he took her to the closet and pulled down one of six jumpers, three which were skirts and three which were overall pants. The one he took was a purple skirt, and he put it on her. Then he had her stand back and looked at her. “Good, you are all dressed,” he brought her over to him and he hugged her. “Now, can you call me daddy, or do you want to call me Uncle Jason?” he asked her. She looked down. He seemed to mean what he said, so after a moment of silence, she looked up at him. “Uncle Jason?” He nodded at her. “But you listen to me just like you do your daddy or mommy, understand?” She nodded. “Good. Now, we should go downstairs because they will likely have dinner on the table soon. I think the girls,” he was talking about the adult girls, “…were doing that tonight.” October nodded, and again, he picked her up, and carried her. She didn’t mind that at all. As long as he treated her like a baby, she felt that he wouldn’t be mad at her. Adam: Once Adam had dismissed the meeting, he reached out his hand to take Imelda up to their suite on the third floor, and after closing the door behind them, he turned to her. “Imelda, I am sure that wearing a diaper is kind of embarrassing, especially with nothing to cover it up, but we are going to have to get you a bath later tonight too, so you can either have me change you now, into panties and then some other clothes, or you can wait on the diaper until we have to take it off for the bath anyway.” Imelda blushed. She looked around the first room of their suite getting a sense of her new rooms more to stall for time than to really understand her space. Then she finally shrugged her shoulders. “Does that mean you don’t care one way or the other?” Adam asked her. She bit her lip for a moment, but finally nodded. “Then at least follow me to the bedroom to put a skirt on over your diaper. Even if you are wearing it, you likely don’t like people seeing it, right?” Imelda nodded. “I can’t put it on by myself?” she asked. “Not right now, no,” Adam confirmed. “When I am proven that I can trust you, then like I said before, I’ll let you do certain things for yourself at that time, honey.” Imelda nodded. She knew that this was going to take a lot of getting used to, but the first time she had to pee her pants in the van, the guards had made a comment about she better get used to that. Maybe what they really meant, was just being exposed in embarrassment! She walked over and let Adam start to slip up a skirt-style jumper on her, and then he patted her back. “Do you want to watch television in our suite, or would you like to look over the rest of the house?” “Um… can I see the rest of the house?” she asked now that her diaper was at least covered. “And what if I have to pee, later? I won’t have to use this thing, will I?” “No, you won’t. If you have to pee later, I can take it off then and put you in panties after you go, okay?” Imelda smiled brightly at that idea. Adam took her through the third floor and showed her that there was one other suite on this floor for Robyn and Jessica, and then that this floor had a game area for the little kids. The second floor had two suites, one for each of Jason and October and then for Brenda and Anna. It also had some gaming stuff for the adults that the kids could only touch if the adults were watching them carefully and basically giving them permission to do so, and then the main sitting area for watching television as a whole house. Finally, the first floor had the huge entrance way, a huge dining and kitchen area, the office suite, and then the huge bathing area. The bathing area was as big as the suites. In one area, there was a place to change in and out of clothes. Beyond that, there was a huge tub that was more like a small swimming pool, and off to one side of that, there were four open archways that led to tiny rooms with bathtubs like you’d find at home complete with showers. “Now, when we take a bath,” Adam was explaining as he showed her the bathing area. “You little kids will undress in the area before the giant bath, and then we will clean you up in one of the smaller shower areas. Once you are clean, we will have one of us watch you in the bigger community pool while the older people wash ourselves. Then we will come and join you little kids while the one that was watching you gets to get clean….” Adam smiled as it seemed that Imelda followed what he was talking about. “You said we kids will undress in the dressing room. What about you big people?” Imelda asked him. “We will wear bathing suits to bathe you, and then take them off to clean ourselves and put them back on to join you in the main community tub. That way, we are never fully naked around you because there is a certain line that the program doesn’t want us to cross, and this stops that from happening.” “So, it’s okay for you to watch us use the toilet and bathe us, but it’s crossing the line if we see you naked?” Imelda wanted to know. “You’re little kids,” Adam reminded her. “Of course, guardians have given their kids baths and done private things for them since the start of human culture, but kids only ever see their birth parents naked.” Imelda looked down. “But kids are usually under eight when their parents bathe them.” “I know,” Adam said. “I’m kind of confused about the program in some areas, too, but for now, at least, we have to treat you like you are little kids. It’s going to be inconvenient. We adults know that all too well. It’s going to be troublesome for us, too, but I don’t want you kids going to adult prison….” “What does that have to do with this?” Imelda wanted to know. “If we fail at doing what we are supposed to, to train you to rethink what you’ve done, or you disobey us too much, we will be kicked out of the program, and the program will send you kids to prison like regular criminals.” “Aren’t we regular criminals?” Imelda asked him. “Maybe in the states’s eye, you are, but not the way I see it. You are children that happened to have bad situations, bad parenting, or just bad luck. Either way, kids your age don’t just get ahold of drugs to sell them on your own. That is what you are here for, right?” Imelda looked down. “Kind of….” “Well, don’t you worry about the reason the state sent you here because I don’t really think their records on your actions are complete. As I said, I find it quite unlikely you could get that much drug to sell on the streets by yourself, honey.” Imelda nodded. She wasn’t so sure he was wrong about that. Her own father hadn’t actually known what was in the package that she was supposed to deliver, or at least she wanted to believe he didn’t know. She knew that he worked for a bad guy, and she figured the man used her to deliver the drug thinking the police wouldn’t suspect a child doing the business rather than her father. Adam put a hand on her shoulder. “So, what do you want to do now?” he asked her. “We can go up to the sitting room and watch television, you can go up and play games, or we can go back to our suite until dinner is ready and maybe read a book or get to know each other better….” “Can I go see what games are in the kids’ play area?” she asked. Adam smiled and nodded as he put a hand on her shoulder to guide her up to the third floor again. Brenda: After Adam had dismissed the meeting, Brenda took Anna down the hall to their suite on the second floor. She used both of her hands to guide the girl since she didn’t think she understood English well enough to get her verbal commands. Once they were in the suite, she smiled brightly at her little fifth grader, though Anna was much bigger than the other fifth graders in more ways than one. Brenda led her straight back where the bedroom part was and had her stand in front of the dresser while she got out some panties and a t-shirt for her. Anna smiled at seeing the panties. Brenda then bent down to Anna and said slowly but still doubting she understood: “Honey, I have to dress you, but I don’t see any reason to make you wear that diaper. Regardless of the fact you pooped your pants, I know it was because they didn’t let you use the bathroom before you got here, so I’m not holding that against you.” Anna just looked at her funny, so Brenda was sure she didn’t understand. She sighed and started to untape the fifth grader’s diaper. Anna didn’t fight her. She just stood there, now, and let the lady undo the diaper. Soon enough, Brenda had the diaper off of her, and she held the panties out for the girl to step into. Anna quickly obliged. Brenda was sure that the girl was grateful for her knowing that she would want to be out of that getup as soon as possible. Then Anna let her continue to take off her shirt that she had been wearing for nearly two days, and put a clean t-shirt on her before taking her to the closet to put a romper skirt on her just like Jason had done for October and Adam had done for Imelda. Once Anna had clean clothes on, Brenda took her to the small toilet room in their suite, and she showed her the toilet. Anna shook her head. “I know,” Brenda said. “But get me when you want to go. I promise, I’ll take you.” Anna didn’t look like she understood, but Brenda hoped she would in time. Then she took her out to the sitting room to relax until Robyn was ready to go with them to help with dinner. It was their turn to cook for the house. Jessica: Jessica was relieved when Adam told her that Robyn, a girl was going to be her regular guardian. By the sound of what he said earlier, her guardian would be watching her at every private moment she needed, so it was going to be a lot better having a girl there than a boy. The meeting ended soon enough, and Robyn took Jessica up to their suite to show her around. Then she paused in the bedroom. “I need you to take your shirt off,” Robyn told her. “Normally, I have to do it for you, but I think this once, you can do one final thing for yourself before I start treating you like a toddler.” Jessica frowned and looked at her hard in the eye knowing that from what Adam had said that it was true that it had to be done, but very much not liking the way the girl had just come out and said it like that. “You know the rules, Jessica. If you don’t cooperate with me,” Robyn warned her, “then I’ll have to get Adam, and we will both have to dress you.” Jessica decided not to press her luck though she really just wanted to let her know that she didn’t care for the woman’s choice of words. Adam had told her that it was just because they weren’t to be trusted yet, and so were basically criminals. That, she could sort of live with…. Being called a toddler was something else. Robyn took her relaxing body language, it seemed, to mean that nothing would happen because she then approached the girl even though she said she could take the shirt off herself, and she started to help her. Jessica just let her. Then soon enough, she had a romper on just like the other little girls did. “Robyn?” Jessica started…. “Mommy,” Robyn corrected her. “Mom?” “No…. Mommy!” Jessica rolled her eyes and let out a bunch of air through her teeth. “Fine. Mommy! Mommy?” “Yes, honey?” “I’m not a toddler, you know.” “I know that, baby. But until we are told differently, you are going to be treated like one, so you might as well get used to the idea of being one for a while.” Jessica frowned. “Can’t I just be used to the idea of being a criminal that is being controlled by a guard?” “Honey, you are not a criminal,” Robyn said. “I don’t know why you stabbed a full grown adult with a pair of scissors, but I do know that it had to be a good reason for you to get that kind of courage up. It’s no easy task for a little girl to overpower an adult either even, even if you had surprise on him.” Jessica nodded. “He was hurting my mother.” “I believe you. But as I said, we have rules that we have to go by, and so the best way to get through the first few weeks, is for you children to accept your new roles as toddlers for a while….” “Adam said you could take off my diaper…,” Jessica reminded her in case she forgot. “Well, like I said, you are a toddler, to me, anyways. So, I will decide if you wear a diaper or not.” “Do I have to use it?” “You mean, like to pee or something?” Jessica blushed. “Yeah….” “No. You just tell mommy that you want to go, and I’ll take you. Even when I let you wear panties, you have to ask anyway, so it’s really no different, okay?” “Okay,” Jessica sighed. She didn’t like that her mommy thought she should stay diapered, but at least she didn’t have to use it. After Robyn had Jessica put into a clean jumper-skirt and ready to leave the room, she took her little girl down to the kitchen to meet Brenda and Anna so they could start dinner. Brenda: When Brenda saw Robyn pass by with Jessica in hand, she knew that it was time to cook. She looked from Adam to Imelda and to Anna not sure how to get Anna to understand everything she needed her to do. “Do you need help with Anna at the moment?” Adam asked Brenda. “Yeah, actually. I don’t see how she’s going to be much help in the kitchen until we figure out a way to communicate.” “I’ll watch her for this evening,” Adam told her. “But you need to figure out a way to communicate with her soon, unless you want to be changing messy diapers all the time.” Brenda grimaced at that. She nodded and headed for the kitchen. “Where is Anna?” Robyn wanted to know. “I left her with Adam this time,” Brenda responded. “She’d just be in the way because she can’t really communicate with us in English yet.” Robyn nodded. “What about me?” Jessica asked. “What about you?” Robyn asked her. “Do you understand English?” “Yes,” Jessica said a little down not liking where this was going. “Then there’s no reason you can’t be here helping us make dinner, then, is there?” “No.” Soon enough, they had Jessica peeling potatoes while the other women were busy at the stove.
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