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Hi everybody! As a long time lurker and even longer writer for my own enjoyment, I finally got the push to actually share something. It couldn't have been done without the help of some writer friends, /u/Sissybecky (r/abdlstories) who beta read and Clairanette (aka Clairacuddles on A03), talking to both of them for hours about writing. Check them out too! Scarlet is a young woman down on her luck. She has a broken heart, bank account, and sex life. Her luck finally seems to be changing when she is offered a job on the outher side of the country, and really has no option but to take it. But what she doesn't know about the city of Caulfield Valley may get her in trouble, like what her new boss, Emilia Kane, secretly does as a side hussle. a slowburn, long form lesbian fic that is very kinky and ABDL oriented. 1- so it feels real There is both terror and freedom in restarting your life. Not in a cosmic sense, but in the moving-across-the-country-and-leaving-everyone-you-knew-on-the-opposite-coast sense. That is where Scarlet found herself this morning. Eyes red from her jetlag, hair a mess from the uncomfortable seats, and a puffy-eyed death stare meeting her from the scratched bathroom mirror. Even with her fresh start, the fresh apartment, she was not ready for her first day at a new job in this new, unfamiliar city. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to forget. She wanted to go back to her home with—a pang of heartbreak through her chest interrupted the thought. That home was no longer there, and no one was waiting for her to come home. Instead, Scarlet let out a dejected sigh, opened the cardboard moving box that contained the toiletries that were not in her carry-on, and got in the shower. She was up far earlier than she realistically needed to be, to make sure she could wash her hair, shave her legs, and still have plenty of time for makeup and a relaxed cab ride to work. The pipes whined and hot water splashed her face as the new-ish utilities sprung to life. She focused on getting the sleep out of her eyes. She resented her own anxious, over-prepare-until-exhausted tendencies. Yet Scarlet knew that on mornings where she didn’t do this, she was late. It was part of why she’d lost her last position as a Library clerk. God, that feels like a lifetime ago. If I started taking those then…what if... Scarlet let the thought drift up with the steam, and focused on the rigorous maintenance that her curly, shoulder-length bob required. The rest of the shower went likewise. She would move on to some other form of self-grooming, only for another intrusive thought to appear, and she would do her best to let it roll off of her. By the time she was done, dripping into a towel and stepping out, she had gotten most of the self loathing scrubbed off. Scarlet turned to face the same mirror. She wiped the fogged glass with one pale hand, and the same dead-eyed look greeted her. Scarlet forced a smile, hollow but just enough to come across as courteous and eager, rather than like a retail worker who was dead inside. She had plenty of practice masking in this way. Her breakfast was a microwaved cup of coffee and protein bar, the leftovers from her flight. She’d have to go to the grocery after work. She ate just enough to then turn to her prescriptions, the small, resentful white triangles tasting bitter and frustrating, her knowing that it was a 50/50 on whether she would be vomiting before lunch. The three small blue estrogen pills had to melt sublingually, and wouldn’t upset her stomach. They did, however, taste like minty asshole as they dissolved under her tongue while she started her makeup routine. It went quickly, Scarlet’s old “professional” looks still in her head after years of rushed mornings where her mediocre nutrition and makeup routine battled for time. Her hands danced; brushing, patting, dabbing, blending, and setting at a quick but deliberate pace. This wasn’t Scarlet’s first time working places that made her tone down her looks and cover her smattering of artsy tattoos that criss crossed her arms. Her new boss had assured her however, that so long as she wore at least business casual and none of the tattoos visible were profane, no one would care. Simple enough to cover the guillotine on her shoulder blade or the shoddy stick and poke of her highschool bff’s band “The Fart Coffins” on the opposite blade. She only sometimes regretted that one out of any of the designs on her body. She finished with a modest amount of very neutral blush, and got up to dress in the outfit she had laid out the night before. A simple white blouse and black skirt, black tie, black flats. Should show a good first impression for a secretary of a legal office. She couldn’t help but roll the sleeves partially, however, showing hints and edges of her ink. Scarlet made sure her hair was dry, shook her head as a jolt of the last taste of estrogen left her mouth, and called for her cab. Just before leaving, she packed her purse, and heard an unfamiliar jingling at the bottom. Fishing through the myriad receipts, dust bunnies and half finished chapsticks, she finally found the culprit, and her heart dropped. A simple gold ring, with an inscription inside; Futile – the winds –/ To a Heart in port –The singular band was heavy in her hand, and Scarlet felt the heartbreak all over again. She wanted nothing more than to scream. She wanted to sob until her throat was hoarse, to wail in pain. She wanted to call her. Instead, she tenderly wiped the welling tear in one eye to preserve her mascara, roughly threw open the drawer to toss the precious bomb in with a clatter. The front door slammed and locked behind her. The cab hummed quietly as it rode down the dense city streets, and Scarlet focused on taking in the sites of tree leaves slowly changing color through the cab window. She was headed further downtown from her new apartment, and even still there were beautiful trees she wasn’t familiar with. This is exactly what I thought the East Coast to look like, and yet it’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined, she mused to herself. She was used to her hometown in the Bay, the palms and pines of the San Francisco and Oakland areas all she had made friends with until now. The trees were dotted in front of the tall downtown shops, looking like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. She took a picture every now and again, killing time until her quiet cab driver pulled over to a sidewalk. Scarlet smoothed her skirt, handed the man his fare and a tip, and stepped out in front of a small office building. Her flats echoed against the shiny, reflective tile as she followed signs and elevator directories to Kane Arbitration & Mediation Legal Services. The interior of the elevator shined, polished enough that Scarlet could see her own reflection. She took a moment as she rode to the fourth floor, using the reflection to adjust her skirt. She was so tall that no matter what she wore, it always eventually turned into a skirt shorter than intended, and that was the last thing she wanted to project on her first day. Once the soft fabric was in place, better resting on her hips and covering much of her long thighs, she noticed she had arrived. Scarlet swallowed, her nerves making it louder than she had wanted, and exited as the doors parted. Kane Legal was one of the only offices on this floor, and it didn’t take her long to find, but she paused outside the door anyway. She took solace in the fact her new employer wouldn’t be able to see her through the doors frosted glass. Scarlet had a moment to steady the shaking in her hands. There’s nothing left for you back there. This has to work. You have no other option. The thought was supposed to be comforting. She opened the door and recalled all the times that thought would light a fire in her—to ignite the contrarian and spiteful nature she had to anyone that doubted her. A year ago, this would have made her unstoppable…but the last year was harder than she could have ever predicted. The reception area of the office was nicely decorated, looking like the kind you’d see on a mid-budget daytime law drama. No one was at the desk that she assumed would be hers, so she tried to peer around a corner leading to what she assumed would be Miss Kane’s proper office. Sure enough, a door at the end of the hall was open and revealed a head of deep black hair peaking just over the top of a large computer monitor. Scarlet took a moment for them to notice her. In another life, Scarlet would have confidently marched into the office, head held high, with enough swagger to convince anyone that she owned this office. Now the poor girl stood there, shivering as her future awaited. The Scarlet of a year ago would have left this newer Scarlet behind, just like the one she cared about the most. She prayed this wasn’t some kind of test. “Excuse me?” She called out, causing the head to twitch, “I’m looking for Miss Kane?” The top of the head rose for a pair of eyes to see just over the top, and then a hand brusquely slid the monitor on a pivoting stand out of the way. Scarlet recognized her now, the telltale hazel, almost golden eyes and a striking streak of platinum blonde to one side having stuck with her since their video interview. “And you have found her.” Her voice merrily sang, reverberating down the tiled hall. She stood. “You must be Ms. Finch. I am so glad to finally get you out here. May I be the first to properly welcome you to Caulfield Valley, I hope your flight was smooth?” Scarlet was immediately put off balance, having to look up at someone for once. Even if Emilia Kane hadn’t been in imposing black heels, she would easily have three inches on the six feet even Scarlet. She effortlessly glided down the hall towards Scarlet, her hand outstretched. Scarlet met her, returning her’s for a handshake. The taller woman’s hands were so soft. “Ah, t-thank you, Ma’am.” She politely smiled, and decided to rest her hands on the strap of her purse so as to not fidget. “I appreciate that, it was a long flight.” She wanted to divulge how exhausted and sore she was, but held back. “That is such a shame.” Emilia twisted her mouth into a concerned frown for a moment, a hand grabbing her chin in thought. “If you ever need to fly for me again, I can make sure you have better accommodations. Thankfully, your first day probably will not be too demanding. I am hoping to simply get you familiar with the way I organize best and have you operating at full speed before my next big meeting in…,” She checked the date on her phone, pulling it from the breast pocket of her dark green suit, “-three days. Does all that sound good?” Scarlet sighed in relief. “More than good, Ma’am, I’m sure I can be up to snuff by the end of the day.” She was a tiny bit surprised by how confident she sounded. “Oh please, Ma’am makes me feel old.” She waved a hand as if shooing the notion away, “I know to most it is respectful, but I prefer ‘Miss’ or just Emilia if it is all the same to you.” She rested the same hand now on her hips, which Scarlet noted were surprisingly accented in this type of suit. She nodded in response, and Emilia gestured for her to sit in the chair behind the receptionist desk. The woman looked like she was off a runway, the two piece suit and platinum jewelry complimenting her intense eyes and the vibrant streak of silver- no, platinum blonde in her hair. The hazel of her eyes became almost amber-gold as the light from the windows caught them. When her new employer wasn’t looking, she shook her head to erase the thoughts. Scarlet couldn’t exactly be thinking about how attractive her boss was if she didn’t want to risk her new living situation. “—and your last employer said you were familiar with all of these programs, is that right?” The question snapped Scarlet back to reality as Emilia motioned to the open windows of the computer. “That’s right. All of this is right in my wheelhouse.” Scarlet affirmed, grateful that the job didn’t seem to have any sudden surprises. “And this looks like a pretty standard inter-office set up on the phones as well. Would you prefer a call or a ping on your computer when you have a call or a client?” She hoped the question would help make her seem competent and ‘a go-getter,’ something her father had told her once upon a time about starting a new job. “A call is fine unless I am already with a client. If I do not respond, you may call regardless.” Emilia said, a small smile of approval spreading across her red lips. “On the topic of clients, occasionally you are to sit in for meetings and you will be taking notes. These are legal matters and meet the standard of attorney-client-privilege. So it is vitally important you understand that anything you hear or write down in those meetings are confidential, but could end up under scrutiny if we were ever to be sued or subpoenaed. Are you comfortable with that?” “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Scarlet nodded, “To be clear, any notes I take are private between you and I unless that happens right? Like—” she kicked herself for her valleygirl filler word, and tried to recover, “a doctor? For example, I wouldn’t talk about this with anyone except you or the client, even during off hours?” Scarlet couldn’t lie to herself and say that didn’t make her anxious. Her understanding of the legal system told her there were a million and one ways to mess up proceedings if everyone didn’t know them ahead of time. The clarity would help alleviate that anxiety. “Exactly. We can talk about it informally outside of the office but we must use discretion. God forbid you run into a client at a bar, make sure neither of you are shouting without realizing. However you got the most important part. Good job.” Something inside Scarlet warmed at her new boss’s approval. Emilia’s phone lit up and began ringing in her hand. She rolled her eyes. “I have to take this,” she explained, grabbing a small packet from the top drawer of the desk, “Just answer the phone if any calls come in and start filling this out with your info so I can make payments and records and such. It will only take a moment!” Emilia walked back up the hall, closing the door of her office. Scarlet could hear her talking in a tone that sounded professional and even, but couldn’t make out anything specific. When Scarlet realized she could not eavesdrop, no matter how hard she tried to focus, she instead grabbed a pen from the desk and focused on the forms. They were typical of starting with any new employer: tax info, new address, signing agreements. Scarlet was sorely missing the over-designed packets she would receive on her first day at each of the oversized chain stores she had grown up working at. The kind that tries to convince the reader that “we’re a family here,” isn’t the same as “your boss will not give a single shit about you if you think for yourself.” They were always a riot to laugh at with her fellow cashiers, clerks, and baristas. Everything was astonishingly professional, and felt tailored to the tiny law office. The forms were of course up to every standard Scarlet was aware of, but everything appeared handwritten and then copied from a master document. The young woman marveled at the curves and loops that seemed so practiced, so official. Calligraphy as a hobby? Scarlet’s daydream was broken as the phone rang. Her arm sprung to life, grabbing the phone and bringing it to her ear. “Hello, Legal Offices of Miss Kane, how can I help you?” Her mind auto piloted the greeting, a tactic she’d learned as a young adult to perform before any social anxiety made her hesitate to answer. There was a silent beat, broken only by soft background hum from the receiver. A deeper voice finally spoke. “Oh, is Miss Kane not in?” “I’m sorry, she’s stepped away for another call. I’m the new secretary.” The professional mask came back to her like a second skin, despite over a year of disuse. “Can I take a message for you?” Scarlet offered. “Er,” The voice stammered for a moment, then clarified, “Yeah. Actually, you can tell her that I have to back out of Friday’s meeting, I won’t be rescheduling. She can keep the deposit. Goodbye.” Scarlet busied herself scribbling the note down. “Wait, I’ll need to tell her your name.” She tried to catch the man before he disconnected. It was too late, the line went dead. Scarlet took a confused look at the receiver before returning it to the cradle. She tried to imagine what would have someone behaving this way, but even her previous customer support and retail work did not track here. Scarlet merely blinked in confusion and returned to filling her new employment forms. She could hear the muffled speech of her new boss, not able to pick distinct words, only cadence. The forms were dull and simple enough, and before too long Emilia’s office door clicked open. Scarlet was finishing the bottom lines of the last page, hoping quietly to impress the imposing woman, as childish as that want may be. Emilia’s heels marked her approach down the hall, and Scarlet spun gracefully in her swivel chair to face her. “Did I hear a call come in while I was gone?” “You did, and I've got a message,” Scarlet tried her best to sound professional yet nonchalant, “your Friday meeting canceled, said to keep his deposit.” She looked up to Emilia to gauge her superior’s reaction. Emilia gave nothing but a solitary eyebrow twitch. “He didn’t leave a name and hung up…is that normal?” “Whether it’s normal or not, we get to keep the deposit for my time, and that’s what matters to me.” Emilia said, too hurried to be as casual. Scarlet decided to just let that slip.There was something going on here, but she would catch the intricacies of the client relationships soon enough. Emilia very pointedly avoided her gaze to check the time, and excused herself again. The rest of the day moved slowly, save for asking Scarlet for a coffee run in the afternoon, which turned into buying a cafe scone for Scarlet’s lunch as well. She busied herself with memorizing the upcoming schedule, the program, and the routine expected of her. She tried not to fidget as the caffeine had its way with her later in the day. The bouncing of her leg coincided with an increase in worry. Would she have another reaction to this medication like her last, and be unable to sleep? Would Emilia be angry that she wasn’t being proactive in some way? How was she supposed to know? She paused, trying to stop ruminating. She lifted her hands away from the keyboard. They were shaking, and she squeezed her eyes closed. When Scarlet opened them, they focused through her fingers, at the sticky note she had written down the message, and the smaller coffee order beneath it. Sighing, she wrote down the coffee order on her phone and on her desktop notepad. If she could do nothing, she would be constructive and prepared for the future. Her hands kept shaking for the remainder of the shift. Scarlet wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety, the caffeine, or her meds. She’d been so isolated until moving she hadn’t noticed if the shaking started then. Just past five, Emilia’s heels clicked down the hall, a smart designer purse over one shoulder. “Now, is there anything I can clarify before we leave?” Her voice sang again and the hall reverberated in tune with her voice like Brian Eno was behind it. Scarlet shook her head, smiling with her mask back on as she spun to face Emilia again. “Thank you so much, but I don’t think I’ve got any questions yet.” Scarlet wanted to be sincere in thanking her, drop the facade and business-casual tone. Speaking without rehearsal tended to bite her in the ass lately. She squeezed her hands between her thighs to try and avoid any probing questions. Scarlet could only imagine suspicious and overbearing concern at best if her new boss thought there was something wrong with her medically. “Is there anything else I can help with? I’ve just been organizing your schedule and getting used to the layout in here all day.” She desperately wanted to get her groceries before it was too dark. “No thank you, Scarlet. You’ve already helped me enormously, you have no idea.” Emilia ushered Scarlet out the door, and locked it behind her. * * If one thing in the world could be counted on, it was chain stores being identical on the inside. Scarlet pushed an identically squeaky cart up identically packed aisles among indistinguishable brands. The only difference really seemed to be the accents. She approached bulk rice bags, hesitated, and drew out her phone with dread. Her meager bank account balance confirmed her fears, and she begrudgingly went for the generic. Other staples like cheap instant ramen and pasta followed suit. The sole splurge was the cheapest, sweetest, garbage brand of red wine she could find. Her cab ride was identical, save for the setting sun behind her. Purples and oranges and cotton-candy-clouds danced behind her, out of view, as she slowly sank her head against the cool glass of the window. At least the trees are still pretty. She raised her phone again to try and take a picture, but the camera went grainy in the growing dark. Her new apartment greeted her with the same lonely tone as when she first received the keys. It was cold, it was empty, the furnishings were bland and picked by the property management company. Nothing here was hers yet, save the stacked boxes of cardboard. Her tired arms carried the groceries to their appropriate resting places, and she cracked open the wine before settingling on the couch. Out of habit she reached for her remote, only to remember she didn’t have a TV yet. Sold for the moving expenses. Scarlet was so tired of sighing. She took a swig of wine, an old comfort that was basically a juicebox and rubbing alcohol that reminded her of being broke in college. She opened her phone, wishing for any stimulation. Her friends, (rather former friends) were still posting stories, still sharing their bad takes and inane jokes. She considered getting off the couch to do the same. It was all performative anyway, right? But the energy wouldn’t come when she called out for it. Another sip, and she swapped apps. Scarlet noticed the singular blink of darkness on her phone’s screen. “Please, you piece of shit. I really can’t afford you to die right now.” Her worries seemed unfounded, as the brilliant screen returned and the malfunction wasn’t replicated for the rest of the night. What was strange, however, were the kinds of new accounts she was being recommended as she scrolled her timeline. Now, Scarlet was no prude. She enjoyed fucking and her alone time as much as anyone. Estrogen and Progesterone even maybe had her hornier than the average. But her timeline wasn’t full of this much smut. She had friends in the sex work game, but she didn’t exactly like, share, favorite, reblog, or any other influencer verb their content. Another website breaking their algorithm again? Even if Dani did porn, she didn’t do this kind of porn. Morbid curiosity, and a slight increase in her pulse, beckoned Scarlet onward. Drawings, videos, and staged photos of women in things she’d only seen in racy HBO content. She didn’t even know what to call the more intricate…props…but felt herself linger on a clip of a woman riding a…pleasure machine plugged into the wall behind her. Scarlet’s face matched her namesake and she scrolled on. A woman sitting at a home office, the quintessential framing of every vlog you’ve ever watched. Finally somebody is fucking sane in this world. She clicked the video without even reading the caption, and the perky eyed labrador retriever of a woman began to speak. “Hi everybody! This is the Channel of O. SO!” The blonde clapped for emphasis. “You’re trying to learn about BDSM, and you have no idea where to start.” Scarlet’s eyes went wide, she took another sip, and watched the woman jumpcut and explain through terrible jokes. It was a trainwreck, steam engines exploding in her mind. It made her hot in the crotch. Scarlet finished her glass, finished the video, and poured herself another while going deeper to the woman’s personal channel. More videos, more introductory guides. Scarlet polished the second glass, and was too engrossed despite the initial impulse to cringe to even pour another. Her alarm rang to remind her to take the rest of her medication, pulling her out of her trance.How long had she been zoned out? It was eight thirty. Losing track of time like that wasn’t uncommon for her and this diversion was welcome. She resigned herself and went to go take another dose of bitter antidepressants and her dose of Progesterone. Once the poison was administered, she looked across her kitchen to the counter where she left her phone. It lay there, like a metal megalith, imposing despite being a little plastic rectangle. Scarlet had to gather her nerve just to walk across the room and lift the damn thing. Once it was back in her hand, she used shaking hands to unlock it. The Channel of O was still smiling up at her, and she felt her cheeks getting redder. Her glass of wine was forgotten as she brought her phone to her bedroom. She unboxed her duvet, and sat on the soft material as the video resumed. Scarlet was enthralled, soaking in every bit of knowledge she could. “There’s all kinds of different dynamics! You’re probably familiar with a ‘master/slave’ dynamic,” The blonde woman began, “but there’s also pets and owners, and even daddies, mommies,—” Scarlet’s pulse quickened,”—or more generically caregivers and littles! Sometimes that’s called ABDL if it involves diapers.” Scarlet felt her breath catch in her throat. Her fingers flew into a flurry, and a private internet search later, her phone was filled with images that made her heartbeat accelerate. Videos, drawings, and many, many depictions of adult women, with all their curves and freckles and other parts that excited Scarlet, in thick diapers. They ranged across all body types, and the infantile garb varied from plain white plastic to over the top patterns to evoke baby diapers. Scarlet continued to scroll, eyes wide in wonder and excitement. She finally stopped, a thumbnail capturing her attention like a punch to the gut and clicked the video. Scarlet’s mouth went wide, and felt herself starting to leak into her panties. A gorgeous, curvaceous woman was lying on her back, supple lips wrapped around the nipples of another woman, in nothing but a pastel colored diaper and delicate, lacy lingerie top. The tender moment evoked breastfeeding, save for the “mother” holding a massive vibrator against the woman’s…diaper. The “baby” of the couple was moaning, growing louder, and Scarlet felt a tent form under her skirt. Eventually, the “baby” was screaming, thrusting her hips into the massive sex toy, in time with cries of “Mommy!” Mommy’s smile was intoxicating. She was very clearly getting off just as much as her baby, her face painted a combination of maternal nurturing, hedonistic pleasure, ecstatic elation, and sadistic control as she began thrusting the enormous vibrator in time with her partner’s thrusts. It was obviously acting on the merit of pornography, but Scarlet couldn’t tear herself away. She allowed her hand to snake up to a nipple poking through her top. Scarlet realized her own arousal, and in embarrassment, closed the tab, flinging her phone to the edge of the bed like it was a dangerous spider. She flung the covers off, racing to the bathroom for a cold shower.

A Strange Visit It was the start of the summer holidays and Grandma and Grandpa’s golden wedding anniversary, so the entire family, as well as a bunch of friends and neighbours, were congregating at their large house in the country. It’s quite old and gloomy but has six bedrooms for those who were staying over, which included me and my family, Uncle Ernest and his family, Aunty Pat and her husband, Gordon and Cleo who were friends of Grandpa’s and had flown in from Australia and Stephen Wilkes who’d driven up from the South coast and used to be an old neighbour of theirs. The house even had a name as you turned into the drive, Wood View (1854) and had been the dwelling of the area bishop in years gone by. Grandpa had bought it and was where he brought his new wife and where their children were born. Uncle Ernest was the eldest, then Aunty Pat and then my mother Diana. When she married my father, James, they didn’t have much money so when they found out I was on the way, it was agreed they should live in the family home. When I was born, we stayed with Grandma and Grandpa for a while so we’re all pretty close. In fact, we remained with them until about ten years ago when I was four and we moved about 100 miles to a new house in the city. Dad had got a huge promotion and became manager of the company he worked for. He’s now the CEO and in charge of everything. When we lived at Wood View it always seemed a cold rambling building but from an early age the nursery became my room and as I got older it was nice to have so much space where I could spread out my toys and have a place to play. Even now, when we visit and stay over, I have that room, though Grandpa got rid of the childish bed as it would be too small for me now and I have a much nicer bigger single bed. You need something like a thick duvet because even in summer the place radiates the chills. Not that it’s haunted or anything, despite all the creaks and groans, it’s just that type of draughty place but, it is in the countryside, and that’s wonderful to explore. Anyway, the house doesn’t seem much warmer despite the fact that when they had the builders in to construct a conservatory they added central heating to the entire place. Another improvement was that they had part of their large bedroom converted so there is now a bathroom in there. Up until then there was only one ‘family’ bathroom, which was long and large and felt like you were entering some vast, cold tunnel that had a bath and toilet at the end of it. That room only heated up when you took a bath but you never lingered for long if you used the toilet. Despite Gran’s best attempts, even the potted plant and shelves of fresh towels couldn’t brighten up the place. At night it was a scary and icy place to visit. # There were about eighty people who came to celebrate with us and both my grandparents are healthy and involved in the local community, so lots of locals as well as family turned up. By the time we got there the bedrooms had been allocated and ended up with all us boys in my old bedroom. Unfortunately for me, Brian, Uncle Ernest’s eldest son, had commandeered my bed for himself and there were a couple of inflatable mattresses and sleeping bags for me and my twelve year old cousin Reece who’s Aunty Pat’s son. Brian’s youngest brother, three year old Martin, was lucky as Grandpa had restored my little old bed which fitted him OK. There’s also Reece’s sister April (13) and I forgot to mention Brian’s sister, fourteen year old Fiona. My two female cousins get on really well and they had a room to themselves as they wouldn’t share with anybody. Whilst I get on OK with Reece I’m the complete opposite of Brian who I think is a bit of a bully. At sixteen he’s school captain of both the football and rugby team and derides me every time I join in any game because I’m hopeless. I just hate getting hurt, which I think is a sensible position to take. He thinks I’m a “swotty little twat” and I know this because he’s called me that ever since I passed the entrance exam to get into the exclusive school I now go to. The party was a huge success and I had a great time along with everyone else I think. When it came to bedtime we all had our room, well except for Gordon and Cleo who were going to be in the conservatory on the fold-out couch, whilst Steve Wilkes was going to be on the sofa in the living room. Of course my room was the busiest and Aunty Judy, Uncle Ernest’s wife, took Martin up first and got him settled about 9.30. Then around 10.30 Aunty Pat said it was time Reece made for bed and mum said I should go as well. I know I’m only a year older than him but I wanted to be treated as Brian was, he didn’t seem to be under any restrictions. I even saw him downing a bottle or two of beer, which I was forbidden to even try. Anyway, despite my protest not to leave, and I saw the look on Brian’s face as if to say ‘it’s time all kiddies were in bed’, mum was insistent so had no option if I didn’t want to cause a scene at the party. If I had I would have been in serious trouble so irritably flounced upstairs to join the others. When I got there I saw that Aunty Pat was putting Reece in a disposable and pulling plastic pants over them before he slipped into his PJs. I was a bit shocked but aunty explained that, as there was only one toilet for us all to use and it was a bit chilly late at night to make the journey, to save any embarrassment a nappy was judged a good idea. I saw the logic but just shrugged glad mum hadn’t insisted on the same for me - except, aunty ruffled out another one and looked my way. “I’m not wearing a nappy aunty, I’m too old.” I tried to explain. “I can get to the loo if I need to so...” I was whispering my argument because Martin was asleep in his little bed and we didn’t want to wake him. “Sorry Danny but your mum and dad think it’s for the best so... you will have to wear one.” I was furious but with Reece looking on I didn’t want to lose face though she could tell I was on the verge of a massive tantrum. She wasn’t going to put up with any unwillingness on my part and obviously anxious to get back to the party. “Look, I can get your father if you want but suspect he won’t be happy being dragged away for something that has already been decided.” I felt cornered because I know dad doesn’t like it when I act like a big kid, he thinks I’m sensible and know that things are done for my benefit. I was torn but Reece was in one so it was hard to refuse. Mind you, I had no idea what threat his mother had made before he agreed to wear one. “I’ll count to three and if you don’t let me put you in this straight away...” and she waved the thick disposable in my direction, “I’ll get your dad and let him do it. One, two...” “OK, OK.” I conceded despite the fact that I knew Brian would have a ball if he knew we were wearing nappies. “That’s better now, Reece’s all wrapped up so you’re not alone. Even Martin’s wearing one...” “Yes but he’s only three so I suppose...” “You’ll be grateful when you see you won’t have to negotiate finding the bathroom in the middle of the night. We don’t mind if you use it as that’s what it’s there for so don’t worry if you do.” Use the nappy... was she mad? It wasn’t like I could offer to do it myself because aunty had obviously been given a job and this was now cutting into her party time. She wanted it done and out of the way as quickly as possible. I piled my clothes on the chair and looked longingly across at my bed but knew if I occupied it and Brian came up, he’d punch me in the face. A shiver ran down my spine as I was being taped into the thick (though soft) padding and she’d even opened a pair of clear plastic pants like Reece was wearing for me to slip into. “There that’s better, all nice and safe now.” She watched as I shuffled up my PJs. “There, all done now... night-night boys... I’ll see you in the morning.” There was no denying the room was cool but not cold, however, once the central heating went off I knew it could get quite chilly. I was quite grateful to hug myself in the sleeping bag and the air mattresses were quite bouncy. I was still wide awake so Reece and I whispered to each other for a while. I asked him if his mum had put him in nappies before but he said it was a first. He’d objected like I had but she was taking no backchat so thought it best to go along with it. He confessed that the corridor leading down to the bathroom he always found scary when he visited so wasn’t against this novel idea. We both had to agree that we were pretty snug so getting up would have been a bit of a chore... so maybe, it wasn’t such a bad notion. I reminisced a bit about when I was little and used to live here and how much I loved having the nursery where I had all my toys and what a great place it was to play. I was thinking back but didn’t mention that mum had put a little potty in the corner for me to use when we stayed here. The reason for that was I wasn’t potty trained until we left and I was about to start school at five years old. There were a few of Marty’s toys scattered around but mainly Gran had made a place for him to play downstairs as at the moment this room was quite full. We talked about what was our favourite thing we ate at the party. How much we’d drunk, we both seemed to have downed a litre and half of Coca Cola, and how the girls had treated us as if we were just kids, just because they had worn their best dresses and were obviously pleased with the rest of the guests reaction to them. They got tons and tons of praise, whereas, we boys got a smile and that was about it. Meanwhile, we could hear the noise from the party with the laughter and music but it wasn’t long before we both joined Martin in the Land of Nod. # It was Martin who woke us up. He was calling for his brother, trying to wake him up by telling him he was wet and needed a change. It was strange because I’d just imagined that Brian would be as off hand with his little brother as he was with me, he wasn’t. “OK Marty, just give me a minute and I’ll get you all changed.” He yawned and swung his legs over the side of ‘my’ bed and I noticed he was just wearing a t-shirt and boxers. I felt cheated he wasn’t also consigned to what Reece and I had to wear but suppose, being sixteen, gives you special privileges. I have to say that he looked a great deal older than the rest of us and carried out his brother’s change with barely any comment other than encouragement. Martin hugged his brother when he was finally all cleaned up and wearing a fresh clean fabric nappy. Brian noticed that we were both awake now and looked over at the two of us. “OK, are you wet as well?” It was a question I didn’t want to hear from him because I knew he’d just take the piss. I was also annoyed that he seemed to know we’d been wearing disposables with plastic pants. “OK Reece you first, come here.” Reluctantly, my twelve year old cousin left the warmth of his sleeping bag and toddled over to Brian. “Are you wet?” Brian simply asked to which Reece nodded. “OK then, let’s get you out of that soggy mess... it is only soggy isn’t it?” The question was a little apprehensive. Again Reece nodded whilst Brian exhaled in relief. Brian seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he helped Reece off with his PJs and patted his plastic pants but it was noticeable that he’d soaked his disposable as it had expanded quite considerably. Without asking, just as he’d done with his little brother, he pulled at the tapes and the heavy wet fabric fell to the floor. He grabbed some wipes and cleaned him up, shook some talc all over him and then unfolded another disposable. “Erm, I don’t think...” Reece began nervously. Brian took no notice and slapped his hand away as he tried to prevent him threading the disposable between his legs. “Stop that,” he admonished and Reece was far too scared to put up any further resistance. He did a good job and had him turn full-circle so he could see that his handy work fitted correctly. He then did what aunty had done the night before and opened up the pair of plastic pants for him to step into. Once they were pulled up and patted into place he told him to go put the rest of his clothes on. “OK Danny, your turn.” He smiled. “No, I’m OK thanks, I can sort myself out I don’t need any help from you.” I was offhand. “Well, that may be so cousin but your parents and gran have said that I’m in charge of you boys whilst we’re here and that if you’ve wet, which is all very fine...” he added, as if to say it was expected, “you have to wear a disposable for the rest of the day.” “WHAT?” I exclaimed loudly. “Be quiet you idiot. The rest of the house had a very, erm, heavy night and are still sleeping so... hussssshhhh.” “I’m not wearing a nappy.” I complained. “OK, well you don’t have to but... are you wet?” He questioned and I knew I would have to answer him. I was still in my sleeping bag so no one knew I was as wet as Reece had been but just didn’t want to admit it to anyone. However, whilst both Martin and Reece looked on, Brian marched over, reached into my sleeping bag and pulled me out. My pyjama bottoms had slipped down to reveal my thick and expanded disposable held tightly under the glass-like structure of my stretched plastic pants. “Hmmm, I think we can tell you’re wet so...” he returned to his bed and pulled out another disposable from the pack (which aunty had left under the bed) and fluffed it out. He looked sternly at me. “You can walk over here and let me do my job... or... I can drag you over here put you over my knee and give you a thorough spanking.” “I, errr, um...” was all I could add because despite my pretending otherwise I found him quite intimidating. This was ridiculous. Here I was in my old nursery and just about to be returned to wearing a nappy, something I hadn’t done for nearly ten years. Well apart from last night. “They said you might be difficult but not to put up with any silliness so... what’s it going to be?” I felt another nervous spurt of pee soak into my disposable and knew I had no alternative if I didn’t want a public spanking. He was so much bigger and stronger and knew they’d be no chance if he decided to do as threatened. “C’mon Danny, stop being such a little drama queen, it’s only a nappy.” He nodded toward his little brother. “You don’t see Marty making such a fuss about it now do you?” By this time Reece had put all his clothes on whilst little Martin was playing with his teddy bear but still wearing only a fleecy top but no bottoms. His nappy and cute cartoony plastic pants were on view. I have to say that Martin (Marty) was a lovable little tyke and an absolute joy to be around. Last night he’d kept many of the adults amused with his childish antics and questions - the complete opposite of his big brother. Also, it had been fun playing with him and all the cool new toys he had scattered around the house and bedroom. “No but he’s still a baby and not potty trained.” Is what I wanted to say but thought better of it so timidly walked over where he immediately helped me out of my PJs. It didn’t seem to register that he was only two years older than me and therefore this was most inappropriate. So, although I was embarrassed enough to flush bright red, he just got on as if this was something he did regularly. He wasn’t nearly as rough as I imagined he’d be. In fact, he seemed resigned to his job and anxious to get it over with. “Look, if you think I’m happy with this you must be mad but... it’s what has been ordained,” he nodded in the direction of the other bedrooms. “So, let’s just get it done and have some breakfast.” He pulled down the plastic pants and as he’d done with Reece, ripped at the side tapes and let the sodden fabric fall to the floor with a squishy flop. The quick burst of cool air to my lower half made me shiver and goose pimples replaced the now pinkish flush. The moist wet wipes felt strange especially when it invaded my bum hole, which I suppose is what he did with Marty to make sure his was thoroughly clean. Once he was sure I (and it) was particularly clean he rubbed in some Bepanthen ointment. I noticed that Reece hadn’t had that done but by the time I thought to say anything he was already showering me in talc. Again, like my younger cousin, he pulled the white disposable between my legs and tugged everything together tightly before taping me in. Also like Reece he made me give a twirl to make sure he was satisfied with his work and then passed the plastic pants. The look he gave me when I hesitated made sure I quickly slipped them on. “There... all done, that wasn’t so bad was it? Must be like old times for you Danny... this being your old nursery and all.” He smiled and picked his little brother up and set off to the kitchen. “OK guys c’mon... I’m also in charge of getting you fed.” He watched as I negotiated my jeans up and over the bulkiness but managed it in the end. Reece was wearing a pair of green cargo shorts but Martin still had only his shiny plastic pants for cover. It seemed strange because we had to be quiet, as everyone else was still sleeping and there were various people in different areas of the house. Bottles and plates and some food were still on various surfaces but oddly the kitchen was relatively tidy. Brian warmed some milk for Martin and put bowls out for us two. Reece chose Coco Pops, which I guess gran had got in specially, whilst I choose Frosties as they’re my favourite and she always has them for when we call or stay over. We had orange juice, whilst Brian had toast and coffee but was surprisingly attentive to his brother’s needs. Martin seemed to enjoy drinking his warm milk from a sippy cup and tucking in to cut up pieces of jam on toast. “OK you guys, the idea is for me to take you for a walk in the woods for a bit of fresh air and exercise this morning. I think they really want you out of the way so there’s no noise and they can all sleep a bit longer. So, let me get Martin dressed... it looks a nice morning so you might not need a big coat... and we’ll be down in a minute.” He was taking us out wearing nappies and that worried me a bit but I don’t suppose anyone would notice. I didn’t think it was obvious under my jeans but I knew what I was wearing and there was a slight swish as I walked. Everything ‘down there’ felt tight and crushed I just hoped I’d be out of this ridiculous situation before too long. I thought all this as I finished my cereal and watched Reece slurp down his chocolate coloured milk and smile. It was obviously a part of eating Coco Pops that he loved. I was still a bit concerned about the padding although my cousin didn’t appear that bothered. I hadn’t had chance to speak to him about the fact we were both in nappies. “What do you think?” And I patted the soft padding under my jeans. “I was too scared to say anything... he’s quite frightening.” Reece offered but said no more on the subject. I think he was worried Brian might return and spank him for speaking out. I had to agree Brian was very frightening because he was so big and not like any other person I knew around his age. He certainly towered of us two and was nearly as tall as his dad. Although he was just a couple of years older than me, Brian looked and acted like a grown up. Reece and I had both complied with his demands without too much opposition so I suppose that’s why he’s the captain of sport at school... he gets things done. We grabbed our hoodies and waited at the back kitchen door for him and Marty. I surreptitiously rubbed my bum and could feel the padding underneath my jeans and wondered why the grown-ups would have decided that we should wear these during the day. I mean, it made slight sense last night but today, it made no sense at all. However, no one but Brian was around to ask and he’d already told us this was the way it was going to be. Still... I wondered. After the hectic party the night before the house was very quiet so any conversation was held in whispers. At that time in the morning the atmosphere both indoors and outdoors was still quite eerie. #tbc#