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Chapter 1 “4582 Valley Drive East, here it is” Marcus announced to the only 2 people in the car: himself and his girlfriend in the back seat. They both knew the address by heart, having owned this cabin for the past 5 years, but it was just one of many quirks that Marcus possessed. Emily loved his quirks too. It was one of the many, many things that made him not only the best boyfriend of all time, but also the greatest daddy a little girl could ask for. They were both in a DD/LG relationship and loved every minute of it. Of course, that would not be hard to fathom if anyone were to see Emily now. Her beautiful brown hair was brought up into two adorable pigtails tied up with vibrant pink ribbons. Just below that was a white pacifier with the words “daddy’s girl” written in pink cursive on the shield that was moving rhythmically in and out as she nursed. Attached to the ring of her binky was a clip, covered with ponies and princess crowns, that led down to the plain white shirt she wore. Above that, Emily was sporting some denim shortalls that completed her look. With her choice of childish clothing and her childlike tendencies, the 24 year old was often confused for a child. It didn’t help that Marcus was a foot taller than her and, when they were out together, they looked like a father and daughter. While sitting in the back seat and cuddling her stuffed bunny (ironically enough, it was named cuddles), she thought back to just a couple hours ago... Marcus opened up the backdoor and held his hand out to her. “Daddy has to fill the car with gas and go potty. Why don’t you hop out and go inside to grab a snack for the rest of the ride?” Marcus announced with the type of tone that made Emily’s heart melt. Stepping out of the car, she smiled as she looked down and saw her Velcro shoes light up. She knew it was very hard for daddy to find them and, when she got them last Christmas, she was ecstatic. Emily made sure to take her paci clip off and leave it in the car. While she did love nursing her binky, she never wanted to expose strangers to this side of her life. The door to the convenience store went “ding” as they stepped inside. “Alright, pick out a treat and I will be right back” Marcus said as he headed to the back of the store to the restrooms. The girl walked down the aisle to the candy selection and her eyes lit up. In front of her was tons of different kinds of treats. How was she expected to choose ONE?!? Her eyes first went to the Twinkies. She loved those cake snacks, but she also wanted something that was going to last her longer than the one Twinkie in the package. Her eyes scanned everything from Skittles to a Hershey's bar to Twizzlers. Emily know that Marcus would be back any second and had to choose quickly. Frantically, she glanced to her far left and saw what she wanted, grabbing a bag. As if on cue, the man she called daddy walked up behind her. “Did you find a snack sweetheart?” he asked, knowing a snack choice was a hard choice for any little one. She hopping backwards to face him and held up the bag 3 inches from his face. He jerked his head back and smiled “Pretzels? Yummy” as he turned around and grabbed a can of Red Bull from the fridge behind him. Once they got to the counter, they put their stuff on the counter as the lady behind the counter greeted them. “I also have gas on 4” Marcus told her as he reached for his wallet. The lady, whose name tag read Amy, made quick work of ringing up the idea and getting everything paid for. Once she had everything put in a bag, she smiled at Emily and said “I hope you and your daddy have a fun day planned today” as she handed daddy the bag. The little girl blushed and smiled at her, almost whispering “Thank you”. Marcus couldn’t help but flash a big smile as he took Emily’s hand and told Amy goodbye. As the memory ended in her head, Emily let the pacifier fall from her mouth as she popped the last pretzel from the bag in her mouth. Following that up with a quick drink from her Frozen themed sippy cup, she brought the binky back to her lips. As he parked the car in front of the cabin, Marcus took a look in the rear view and a huge smile appeared on his face. Just a year ago, he could have never imagined that his life would be as perfect as it is now. “We’re here baby girl” He announced as she reached back and shook her thigh a little just to get her attention. A huge smile flashed behind the shield of her pacifier at her daddy’s announcement. Almost as fast as lightning, she undid her seat belt and pulled on the door handle, totally forgetting that Marcus always had the child locks on. “Hold your horses peanut” Marcus said with a tiny laugh as he hopped out and opened the back door. “Don’t forget your backpack” he told her, handing it to her, the pack covered with Tommy, Angelica, Chuckie and the rest of the Rugrats. It was Emily’s favorite show, so of course she NEEDED that backpack, almost throwing a temper tantrum in the store when daddy wouldn’t let her get it. As he walked to the back of the car to grab his suitcases, Marcus noticed his little one speed walking to the front door. Once she got there and put her hand on the doorknob, daddy used what he called his “punishment voice” and called out to her “Baby girl, don’t turn touch the doorknob.” Once those words entered her ears, she pulled her hand off the knob as if it was covered in spiders. While Marcus called that his punishment voice, Emily know it more as his spanking tone. After a couple seconds of waiting in front of the door, she even noticed she was nursing the teat in her mouth a little faster just because of his tone. As he was carrying the bags up to the front door, Marcus thought back to a couple days ago when he come up to the cabin to get everything set up for his baby girl’s little weekend. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect and spared no expense. Once he get up to Emily, he ran his fingers through her beautiful brown hair. “Alright princess, open the door” he whispered into her ear. Once the door was fully opened, Emily could have melted into a puddle on the floor. The first thing she noticed was the adult sized playpen sitting in the corner of the room. Her gaze then shot to the alphabet mat set up in the middle of the living room with blocks, Legos, rattles, and tons of other toys set up. She spun around like the Tasmanian Devil and pulled her daddy into the tightest hug she could muster. “Tank ou so much daddy! I wuv it” the little girl told her caregiver, her pacifier causing a cute lisp. “Your welcome pumpkin, but there is still more” Marcus said, his voice raspy and a whimper as if her hug was choking him. Taking her soft hand and bringing her to the kitchen, he saw her smile almost recharge to full power when she saw the full sized high chair. “That’s not all princess. Go open that cupboard” the man she called daddy pointed to the cupboard on the right hand side. Emily walked, her legs almost giving out due to her little side slowly taking over, to the cupboard and opened it. Inside was a huge collection of bottles, sippy cups, and cutlery. It was all sized up as if it was made for her. Emily’s mouth was starting to hurt from smiling so much. Sneaking up behind her, Marcus scooped her up and placed her on his hip. As soon as he had her positioned to where she was nice and comfy, he could feel all the tension and stress flush from her body. This is what he wanted this weekend: making sure Emily had zero stress and just had an amazing weekend. Carrying her down the hallway, Marcus brought her to a closed door. Marcus knew what lay on the other side and Emily might have had an idea as well. Nothing, however, prepared her for the feeling that came when he actually opened the door. Once Emily laid eyes on the fully furnished nursery, she couldn’t hold back her tears of happiness any longer. A rocking chair in one corner of the room with a toy chest right beside it. The toy box was even painted pink with white trim and, in the middle of the front, read “Emily’s toys”. On the other side of the white room was a fully stocked changing table. Her eyes shot past the rainbow pad on the top to the wide variety of diapers lying below. White and cartoon printed diapers. Thick and thin. Stuffers. Even some cloth diapers. Not to mention the wipes baby powder, oils, and plenty of other things to put her mind into total little space. In the back of the room, however, was the thing that get her little side excited the most. Painted plain white, a massive rocking horse. If she wasn’t afraid of falling off of daddy’s hip, she would have reach out to the toy horse with the signature “grabby hands” every little has when they see something they must have. Sitting in the middle of the nursery, however, was the main piece of the room: A pastel pink crib. It was like Marcus had reached into Emily’s dreams and pulled out the perfect house. From the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom, everything was absolutely perfect. She could not be happier. She wrapped her daddy into a hug and rested her head on his shoulder. Letting the pacifier fall from her mouth, she wanted to make sure she heard him clearly. “I love you so much daddy. This room and this house is perfect. You are perfect. I could never find a better daddy then you.” She then gave him the biggest, sloppiest kiss right on his cheek. In this moment, there was no way Marcus could hold back the emotion. Letting the tears fall from his eyes, he looked at the little girl in his arms. As he looked into her eyes, he could see that any adult thoughts and stresses were gone. His baby girl had fully arrived and he could not be happier. “Daddy loves you so much princess. I am so happy you love your room. This whole weekend, you are going to be my little princess. No big girl thoughts. You and daddy are going to have the bestest weekend ever!” As if to mimic her, he planted a huge kiss right on her forehand.

Edit of a old story to be able to be placed on here. Introduction. It didn't seem like all that bad a thing; I got a little horny, so I began masturbating. It was a natural thing to do. I never thought my mother would walk in and catch me, but she did. Oh, for sure, I had not been especially good. I had gotten into the "punk" look with multiple earrings in each ear, jet-black hair that I wore straight and stringy. I wore nothing but black, T-shirts, pants, and a leather jacket. I had even recently gotten a stud in my tongue. I didn't speak too much to mom, so she didn't really notice at first. That was sort of a compromise so I wouldn't have to take a lot of yelling, say, if I had gotten an eyebrow hoop or something like that that she could see all the time. I had been considering a tattoo on one shoulder, hinting to my mom that it was something I was going to do very soon. I'd always feel satisfied when I knew I had made her frustrated with me. My name is Cris, at least that's what I answer to. My full name is Cristine and I only hear that from my mom when's she's mad at me; I never let my friends call me that. I've always been small for my age, at just past my 18th birthday I was just under 5 foot tall and fairly thin. I think I got the small size from my granny on my father's side of the family, she was a tiny woman. I always had trouble finding clothes to fit me like those my friends wore. I am extremely nearsighted and wore thick glasses. I hated my life, me, and the way I looked, I guess you could call it an "ugly duckling syndrome"; besides just growing up and being a teenager, I guess that's why I had been so moody. I tried to show to the world that I was mature and big by having the grungy punk look all the time with the serious black mood. If someone hated my grunge look then all the better. So, finding me in bed that night, with the bedroom dark and dreary like I had set it up, my knees bent, and legs spread wide, was apparently the last straw for my mom; I'd pushed too far. This is what happened, it was supposed to be a punishment, and to this day my mother doesn't know she fulfilled my fantasy. It was a summer I will never forget.

“Are you sure sweetheart? If you do this, it means you are going to have to give up your diapers” Tyler told the 21 year old on the floor as he taped her into fresh padding. Claire had never thought about that. She loved her diapers. The crinkle. The thickness. The safety and security she had when wearing them. It would be tough to quit them cold turkey, but she was willing to give it a try. “I know daddy, I wanna be a big girl” she told the bearded Tyler as she wiggled her hip, the infantile underwear crinkling. “OK, I will make a deal with you sweetheart. If you can be a big girl all day today, then daddy will let you stay in Pull Ups for as long as you want. However, if you have an two accidents, it’s back to Pampers for your cute little tushy” he told her, patting her bulky bottom to get his point across. Seeing his little girl want to grow up and become a big girl made him kinda sad. He loved cuddles on the couch while he fed her a bottle with his left hand and patted her thick diaper with his right. Plus, her puffy bottom might just be the most adorable thing in the world. The diaper clad girl thought about his terms and figured that would be easy. She just didn’t have to wet her training pants for a day and she would be free of diapers? Easy as stealing candy from a baby. “OK daddy, you got a deal” Claire hopped up on her knees and stuck her hand out, looking for a handshake. “Deal” the 28 year old took her hand and finished the handshake. He knew that his little one was very strong willed and always tried her best to complete a task when it’s put in front of her. This, however, was a whole different thing. He figured that, since she was so used to diapers, it would be hard for her to flip to training pants and have it work in one day. “Let’s get you dressed so we can go buy you some Pull Ups. Once we get home, daddy will fix you up a big girl breakfast” Tyler told her, figuring he would go all in on the big girl angle. She wanted those Pull Ups. Badly. Once she heard the words get dressed fall from her daddy’s lips, she hopped to her feet and waddled to their bedroom. “No more baby waddles for me” she told herself as she went to the closet and pulled out her favorite light pink dress. She made quick work of pulling it over her head and putting her hair in a ponytail. “Ready to go daddy” she said as she turned around and noticed that no one was there. Claire got dressed before daddy even made it up to their room. “I must have been going the speed of light” she thought with a giggle. Once Tyler tossed his baby girl...big girl’s night time diaper in the trash, he slowly pulled himself up the stairs towards their room. He really wanted to make her a nursery in the spare room, but that might be a useless endeavor if she was going to be a big girl. As soon he got through the door frame of their room, he was shocked to see Claire was already ready to go. “Wow, good job princess. Maybe you are becoming a big girl after all” he complimented her, very impressed. When daddy called her a big girl, it made her feel good. While she felt the butterflies in her tummy, it wasn’t the same feeling she would get when Tyler would call him his baby girl. She figured it would take some time to get used to the whole big girl thing. “Hurry up daddy, I don’t wanna wear these diapers anymore” she said, raising the front of her dress to expose the padding in case Tyler had somehow forgotten. Those seven words hurt his heart. “I don't wanna wear these diapers anymore” was something he never thought would come from Claire’s mouth. “I know sweetie, but I need to get dressed” Tyler cooed at the girl as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a white t shirt. Satisfied that he looked like he could actually be seen in public, the man Claire called daddy took her hand started walking out of their room towards the front door. After a 20 minute ride in Tyler’s truck, they finally made it to the store. Just as he pulled into the parking lot, he saw the manager unlock the doors. “Perfect timing” he said as he put the truck in park and hopped out, helping Claire step down on the passenger side. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, the diapered girl took her boyfriend’s hand and ran towards the sliding door. Once she stepped on the mat in front of the door, Claire felt her daddy tug her arm and stop her in her tracks. “Hold your horses big girl. I know you want to get your training pants” Tyler said out loud, maybe a little louder then his girlfriend would have liked “but you were gonna pull my arm off” he finished his sentence with a smirk. “Sorry, I’m just super excited Tyler” she said, feeling weird about calling her daddy by his real name. When they were in public, she didn’t want to expose any unsuspecting bystanders to their kink relationship. “I totally understand, but let’s walk a little slower now” he told the girl as he led her into the store, his ears picking up the slight crinkle of Claire’s plastic backed underwear. He was going to miss that sound around the house. It felt, in his brain, like he was going through the seven stages of grief due to the fact that his girlfriend wanted to stop wearing diapers. “You know your an ABDL when” he thought, laughing. Claire’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas day when they made their way into the baby aisle. Bottles, bibs, rattles, and bath toys as far as the eye can see. However, those things were just window dressing for where she really wanted to be: the diaper area. Looking at all of the boxes of diapers, she couldn’t help but smile. All the pastel colors on the boxes and the scents from the diapers themselves. When she was a kid, she remembered coming to this aisle just to smell the babyish scents. Well, that and she looked at the babies playing with their mommies on the packages and wished that was her. When Tyler saw the way his little girl looked at those diapers, he knew that her heart was not totally into the idea of being a big girl. Diapers had always been a part of her regressed mindset and that was not going to change because she wanted to wear Pull Ups now. While Claire was staring at the packages, he made up a plan in his head. Something to make it seem like being a big girl was a lot less fun than being a baby. Something that would make her long for the days of diapers, bottles, and binkys. “Princess, the Pull Ups are over here” he said, standing in front of the rows of training pants. Claire slowly walked away from the diaper display, trying her best not to drag her heels and show her daddy she was the big girl she wanted to be. As soon as she stood in front of the packages of Pull Ups, her excitement ramped back up. Some of the training pants had characters from the movie Cars on them, while others had Disney princesses! These looked much cooler than diapers. “Can we get one of with the Cars on it and one with the princesses? Please daddy?” Claire asked, making sure to look and see that no one was around while addressing Tyler as daddy. “Sure princess” he said, grabbing a pack of both and handing them to the excited little one in front of him. “Since they are your Pull Ups, you get to carry them” he told her, smiling at how a 21 year old women was gitty at buying training pants. Now that they had what they came for, the couple made their way to the checkout. After a quick delay at the toy aisle, where Tyler had to pry Claire away, they got there. As the scanned the 4 registers currently open, they found one that had no one in line. Placing Claire’s big girl underwear on the conveyor belt, the women who looked to be in her mid 30s greeted them from behind the register. “Hi there” she gave them a big smile as she grabbed the first package of Pull Ups “did you two find everything you were looking for?” When she saw the nod from Tyler, she responded with a simple “that’s good” as she rang the item up. “Doing some potty training?” the women, whose name tag read Mary, asked. “Yeah” Tyler responded “Our baby girl has finally decided that she is too big for diapers” he told Mary, knowing full well that Claire’s face must have been 10 different shades of red behind him. “Lucky you” the employee answered with a chuckle. “I got 3 kids, all of which are still in diapers. Feels like I spend half my day changing diapers” she shook her head in a joking manner and shot the couple a smile. “I get that. My little girl is like a super soaker” he said, returning the chuckle. Once the items were put in a bag and paid for, Tyler told Mary “have a good day” as he walked away. “You too. Also, good luck” she finished their interaction with a laugh as she saw the man laughing himself as he walked away. Making it to their car, Claire and Tyler both hopped in. As soon as they were all buckled in, the man Claire called daddy reached over to the bottom of her dress and reached under, giving her diaper a squeeze. “All dry, you certainly are ready to be a big girl” he told his big girl with a couple pats on her padded crotch. “See daddy, I told you! I don’t need yucky diapers anymore” she saw in a matter of fact tone. Inside, however, part of her still wanted to be daddy’s baby girl and toddle around in her diapers. Right now, however, Claire wanted nothing more than to be a big girl and nothing was going to stop her. Now that Claire had her training pants, the drive home felt a lot quicker. She studied the back of the package, looking at all the cool features of the training pants. They even had a wetness indicator that looked like a tiara on the princess Pull Ups. Awesome! As they pulled into the driveway, she put the packages back in the plastic bag and hopped out of the truck, following daddy into the house. Tyler shut the door behind him, turning around just in time to see Claire pulling her dress up and reaching for the tapes of her bulky diaper. “Hold on sweetheart” he told her, gently grabbing her hands and putting the hem of her dress back down “before we get you in your big girl underwear, daddy has some rules he has to tell you.” She just wanted her Pull Ups on already! Knowing that arguing would earn her nothing but a spanking, she huffed and told him “fine”. Deciding to let that attitude filled response go, Tyler started explaining how the day was going to unfold. “Once daddy is finished with his rules, we will get this diaper off and get you into your Pull Ups. If you can show me that you can keep your training pants dry and use the potty like a big girl, I will let you start wearing training pants instead of diapers. If you have one accident, that is ok: they are called accidents after all. Two accidents though, and it’s back to diapers until daddy thinks you are ready to try Pull Ups again. Whenever you need to use the bathroom, you will let me know and I will walk you to the potty. Last thing: in order to make it easier to see if you have had an accident, you will be wearing nothing but your Pull Ups for the rest of the day. Do you understand my rules sweetie?” “Yes daddy, can we take my diaper off now?” Claire caught about half of what he was saying, but she was just too excited to pay attention to everything. “Ok princess. First, let’s get this dress off though” he said as she reached her arms up and he slid the dress off of her skinny frame. Seeing her clad in nothing but her diaper brought that sad feeling over Tyler once again. He shook the feeling out his head, knowing that he just wanted his little one to be happy. Right now, Pull Ups were making her happy. He made quick work of untaping the infantile underwear and letting the dry padding fall to the floor. Tyler grabbed the pink package of training pants and ripped it open, taking a pair out and fluffing them a little bit. As her daddy pulled out the Pull Up, the one in his hands having ariel on it, she was nearly jumping up and down from excitement. Once daddy stretched the training pants out for her to step into, she nearly hopped into them. It felt like heaven as daddy pulled them up and let them fall snuggly on her hips. They felt so good on her butt, Claire had to do some bottom wiggles! Tyler saw how happy his big girl was in her Pull Ups. He was glad Claire brought it up this morning. Seeing her happy was more important than being selfish and wanting her to be in diapers. Plus, the way she just wiggled her tushy sent shivers through his spine. “I see a happy big girl” he cooed, giving her a pat on her tushy. When Claire heard her daddy call her a big girl, a massive smile grew on her face. She wanted to show daddy that she could do things on her own and didn’t need him to take care of her all the time. That, and well, the Pull Ups were just too adorable to pass up. “Yeah daddy, I’m super happy. Thank you for buying these for me” she told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I have to go make us some breakfast” Tyler told the Pull Up clad girl “so, why don’t you go watch some cartoons? It shouldn’t be too long.” Before he went to the kitchen, he gave her one more butt pat for good measure. It was odd to him that there was no crinkling sound after the pat. Claire made her way to the TV, noticing there was almost no change in her gait from when she would wear panties. She flipped on My Little Pony and plopped down on the floor. This was one of her favorite shows and always sent her into little space. Once she was on the floor, the big girl laid down on her stomach and giggled at the action on screen. As Tyler was cracking a couple eggs into a pan, a smile arose when he heard his little...big girl laughing. It was going to take some time to get used to not calling her a baby. Straying from that train of thought, he starting putting the components of a breakfast together. Pouring milk into glasses, putting bread into the toaster, and scrambling the eggs in the pan. He felt like Inspector Gadget. The half hour seemed to fly by for the giggling girl. In no time at all, the credits were rolling on the cartoon. “Perfect timing” she thought as she heard daddy’s footsteps coming into the living room. Claire than heard something she was not planning to hear. “Honey, it looks like someone had an accident from back here” he told the wet girl on the floor. He wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to follow his rules all day, but he didn’t expect her to use up one of her accidents already. A shocked look covered her face as she reached back and squeezed the Pull Up, feeling it squish. Her brain must have thought she was still wearing a diaper and just let go when she needed to go. Claire was going to have to pay closer attention to her bladder. “I’m so sorry daddy” she whimpered, holding back tears. She had failed. Already. Tyler hurried over and knelt down next to his sad girlfriend. “It’s ok sweetie, accidents happen. I just had you in a diaper a little while ago, so it made sense that your brain thought you were still wearing one. Let’s get you into a clean pair of training pants” he told her as he took her hands, helping her off the floor. The couple made quick work of slipping off her wet Pull Ups and replacing them with a clean pair. Once he was sure the big girl was all comfy, he reminded her “Remember princess, one more accident and it’s back to diapers.” “I know daddy” she told him as she hung her head down. It took her a grand total of 30 minutes to wet her training pants. Claire didn’t think she was going to wet at all. Now, however, there was no margin for error. “How about we have some breakfast” Tyler told his girlfriend, taking her hand and leading her into the kitchen and seating her in front of a breakfast plate that looked like it came from a buffet. Eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage filled the plate to the brim. To finish things off, he walked a full glass of milk over and placed it in front of her. “What about my bottle daddy?” she asked, a quizzical tone in her voice. “Sweetheart, big girls don’t drink from bottles. Only babies do” he told her as he sat in front of his plate across from her. “Oh yeah, silly me” she said, sounding the slightest bit defeated. It was than that Claire realized her food was on a normal plate and not her princess plate that she normally used. Did big girls really have to give up all of the fun stuff? They both ate in relative silence. Neither really had anything to talk about. Add that with how embarrassed Claire still felt after wetting her Pull Up and the only thing heard in the kitchen was the clanging of silverware on plates and chewing. Once both of the couple’s plates were clean, Claire asked “Are big girls still allowed to play with toys?” in a sincere tone. She was worried that toys were only for babies, just like bottles and diapers. “Of course princess, you can play with toys no matter how old you are” Tyler responded with a chuckle as he took her plate and took it to the sink. “I’m gonna go to our room and play than” she said, getting out of her seat and skipping down the hallway until she got the their bedroom. They kept the toy box there in case they had unexpected company. Claire grabbed the chest from the closet and pulled it into the middle of the room. Once she had a seat on her bottom, with a lot less padding than she remembered, the Pull Up clad girl pulled out a couple Barbies as well as handfuls of clothes. There were few things she liked more than dressing up her babies and making them pretty. While his girlfriend was accessorizing in the other room, Tyler was doing the dishes. The life of a daddy. Since they were not too dirty, it was pretty easy work. He then cleaned the glasses and put everything back in the cupboards. Once everything was clean, Tyler headed to the living room. Rarely, if ever, did he get to watch what he wanted to. Normally, it was always cartoons on. Now was his chance to catch up on his shows. The feeling of his butt hitting the couch was heavenly. However, the second his hand grabbed the remote, something else got his attention. “Daddy, I gotta go potty” Claire yelled as she felt a little pressure on her bladder. While she could normally hold it for a long time, she didn’t want to chance it. After all, her next accident would see her ending up in puffy padding. As smiled up at the door as the man she called daddy walked into the room. “Is it ok if I take Barbie when I go potty?” Claire asked, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “Of course sweetie, now let’s go so someone doesn’t have another accident” Tyler told Claire as he took her hand and led her into the bathroom. As he brought her training pants down her legs, he was glad they were all dry. While he did want his baby girl back, he knew that having two accidents in a row after thinking she was a big girl would crush her. Once she sat down, Tyler’s knees became weak. His girlfriend was sitting in front of him on the potty, talking to her Barbie, with her Pull Up around her ankles. He loved this girl. After a couple minutes of sitting and waiting, there was no noises coming from the toilet bowl. Figuring she must not have had to go as bad as she thought, the girl stood up and pulled her training pants back up to her hips. “False alarm, I’m sorry for bothering you daddy” she said , lowering her head. “Don’t be sorry baby girl” Tyler responded, forgetting to call her a big girl “You can always call daddy for anything. Whether it be needing to go potty or a diaper change, I will always be here” he said as he hugged the moping girl in front of him. He than realized what he said about diaper changes and, instead of clarifying, decided to let it be. It was true, after all. “Can I have a glass of water” Claire asked. When her daddy nodded, she made her way to the kitchen and filled up her own cup. She was a big girl after all… Tyler could tell how down Claire was. “Sweetheart, if you don’t wanna be a big girl right now, you don’t have to be” he said, giving her a bottom pat as she finished filling up the cup. “I wanna be a big girl” Claire said, trying to convince him, as well as herself, that she wanted this. After the words fell from her mouth, she hurried back into their bedroom and shut the door. Tyler thought about following her in, but decided to give her some space. He didn’t want to be the type of daddy that hovers. He just sat down on the couch and started watching some TV. One thing he did do, however, was turn the volume down. Just in case his baby girl called for something, Tyler wanted to be ready to spring into action! Claire sat in her room, thinking harder than she had ever thought in little space. In her head, she was going through the pros and cons of being a big girl. The cons far outweigh the pros. The only pros she could think of was being able to do things she couldn’t do as a baby. Claire would be able to eat her food by herself, not have her beverages fed to her, and go to the potty whenever she wanted to and not have to use a diaper. The more she thought about it, however, those seems like bad things. Some of her favorite moments with Tyler were when she was laying across his lap with a bottle in her mouth. Claire also loved when he would play games with her while feeding her. The airplane game was an oldie, but still good. She had made her mind up. She was going to be a baby again. Tyler was in the middle of an episode of Family Guy when he heard the familiar call for him from his little girl. Leaving the show running, he hopped off the couch and made his way to their bedroom. When he opened the door, he was met by the sounds of sniffles from his baby girl. He rushed over to the girl, got on his knees, and immediately embraced her in a hug. “What’s wrong baby girl” Tyler asked as he rubbed the crying girl’s back. “I...I…” Claire tried to get out what she wanted to say through the sniffles “I had another accident.” Her eyes than went down to the Pull Up that was sagging on her hips. “Oh no sweetie. Let’s get you all cleaned up” he told her, at the same time giving the training pants a squeeze to confirm that they were soaked. Tyler quickly ripped the sides open, allowing the soggy Pull Up to drop to the floor. Once he heard the plop, he looked down at it and something confused him. There was no yellow hue. As a veteran diaper changer, he knew something was up. Slowly putting the pieces together, he noticed the empty water glass sitting on the floor. It clicked. “Claire, do you have something to tell me?” “What do you mean daddy” she asked, getting nervous. Of course, she knew exactly what he was referring to. “You didn’t really go pee pee, did you?” was all that Tyler needed to say. He knew that his baby girl thought she had a flawless plan, but not when daddy was on the case. “No daddy…” Claire mumbled as she looked at the love of her life. She was caught. “How come you poured your water into your Pull Up? If you didn’t want to be a big girl anymore, you could have just told me. Daddy will never be made at you for wanting to wear diapers or drink from your baba. I will love you no matter what” Tyler took Claire back in a hug. He hated seeing her sad. “Daddy...Can I be your baby girl again?” she whispered into his ear, so happy with his reaction. She was worried Tyler was going to be mad at her for not following through. She now knew that she was silly to think that way. Claire knew Tyler loved her no matter what. The only words that left Tyler’s lips was “I thought you would never ask.”

From the PamperedPenny.com vault about 2006, which would make me 21 or so. Enjoy!

The Woes of Maddison Page Prologue - Monday, The Week Before Christmas Break - Mom was sitting on the couch in the living room spaced out. She’d had another feverish afternoon buzzing around cleaning up an already spotless house. She also cooked us a meal that was way too big for the two of us, again. I swear Mom had to have imagined dirt to clean and mouths to feed! Daddy had never pushed her to keep the house that clean or cook that much. He’d been just as happy with take out as the next guy. Mom did this. She did this to herself somehow. It was just after we lost Daddy that these tics started showing up. Whatever the reason, I’m pretty sure we could have eaten off the picture frames in the hallway, the house was that damn clean. Hell, I bet the FDA would have approved eating off our floors! Our house was that clean! You’d never believe the woman sitting on my couch worked full time, cooked for an army, and cleaned house like a full crew all before seven. She just looked too cute in her PJs. Mom was crashing hard after her long day. She was just sitting there looking adorable watching Adventure Time. It was my senior year of high school and we were in the off season of cross country. I was done. My high school athletic career was over. No more practices for me, so I was getting home around three of four in the evenings. It was a big improvement over six or so that I’d drag in after practice. I’d finished my homework as soon as I got home, and moved on to other tasks. I finally felt like I had time to properly prepare for school and my job with sports no longer a draw on my time. It was a treat not to be so rushed! I wasn’t working that night either, so I decided to be productive another way. No time like the present to get the adult stuff done! I had my laptop setup on the kitchen table working my way through this month’s bills. You have to be careful or it will really pile up on you. Besides, someone had to do it and Mom wasn’t ever going to be the best candidate. Mom and I were paid on different schedules. I was paid twice a month, once on the fifteenth and then again on the thirtieth. Mom was paid every two weeks. You have to keep up with that stuff! It makes it tricky to pay bills when your income isn’t as predictable as the due dates, but I kept on top of it. I’ve been paying our bills and managing our budget for the last three years. It was much easier to just break everything down to the first and the sixteenth right after I got paid. Then, I’d pay it all and didn’t have to worry until the next half of the month came around. This month’s stuff was stacked neatly in two piles representing two different excel worksheets in the master budget workbook that I kept. Three years in the Microsoft Office Certification electives at my high school were actually coming in handy! My spreadsheet was pretty elaborate. It’s a real shame I didn’t have a good backup plan going. “Honey, are you done with the paperwork yet?” Mom called from the living room. She called everything from my homework to reading the mail the ‘paperwork’. “Almost, I just balanced our checking accounts. I just need to deduct the bills and pay stuff online real fast.” I replied. “Will you bring me sumpin ta drink when you come this way?” Mom yelled. “You bet. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I told her. Electronic Bill Pay is a Godsend! I didn’t even have to keep up with stamps anymore. I just created a new payee and boom, they got their money. It really streamlined how I managed our finances. I checked my notes and vowed again to read up on mom’s retirement plan. I just didn’t understand 401k’s enough for my own satisfaction. So, I typed a note on my digital calendar reminding me to look into it. I blew out a tired breath. I’d be leaving for college soon, and I really wanted to make sure mom would be taken care of. I might not be living with her, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep up with this stuff for her. The bills were the easy part, now at least. I could do it from a dorm room too. “Momma, looks like Wellington’s will be out to top off the gas early next week. We have that covered, but it will be a bit tight till the eighteenth when you get paid.” I shouted from the kitchen. I paused and asked, “Are you going to be home to take the invoice and pay them? It should be Monday or Tuesday.” “Baby, I’m still good in savings, right? If something comes up, you can just transfer some money over with your phone thingy, ya?” Mom yelled back. “Yup. I put it on your phone too. I added air filters to the Walmart list.” I told her. “I’ll make sure I’m available for the gas guy honey. I’ll just run home from work. They usually call before they show up. That should give me time to get home. “Come sit with me awhile before you go up to your bedroom baby.” Mom patted the couch next to her. Mom must have needed some cuddle time. She’s the short petite kind of woman, you know straight up tiny. I look just like an upsized version of her which is odd, her being older and all. Dad had a lot of height and width. He had been just a big ole teddy bear of a guy, but looked like he could have played football! Apparently, Mom’s look dominated my genes because I was petite too, but I got dad’s height. In fact, I’ve been taller than mom since I was twelve. I entered the living room and gave her the once over before I went to her. She had her dark hair up in a high off center ponytail that was draped over the back of the couch. Mom kept her hair longer than I liked mine, and being the size of a high school kid made her hair look even longer. She was wearing the bugs bunny footed sleeper that I’d bought her last Christmas causing me to smile at my cutie mom. “Here ya go Momma.” I told her giving her the hard plastic cup with a screw on lid and hard plastic straw, her living room cup. I had a sudden instinct to remind her to put it in the sink when she was done. I guess it was because of how she was dressed and the show she was watching, but I didn’t really need to. She’d probably clean it and put it back in the cabinet before she went to bed. God knows, it wouldn’t be dirty long! Her PJs didn’t have a hood with the ears or the poofy tail that the new ones did, but it did have the coloring and the rabbit feet. Mom had a new set of PJs wrapped up under the Christmas tree. I got her a Sylvester the cat set that came complete with tail, paw looking feet, and a hoodie topped with cat ears. She was going to love the two piece sleeper and I was really excited to see her open it! The PJ set wasn’t the most expensive gift I’d gotten her, but I was making sure she opened it first. She’d likely wear it the rest of the day. There was a good chance that would be her favorite gift. She was going to smile and squeal like a kid, which would make my heart swell. I nearly teared up thinking about her being so happy. We both worked hard to make sure we got those moments. Mom only dressed her age when she was at work. At home, all bets were off. She is still small enough to wear anything from tween to small adult things. It did, and still does, suit her sense of style. She keeps an immaculate house like a fifties house wife, but she’s just a kid at heart. Her bed had more stuffed animals than pillows on it! It wasn’t uncommon for mom to pass out on a teddy bear instead of a pillow. I had bought her a big fluffy stuffed rabbit the first Valentine’s Day after dad passed. I just wanted her to have something positive to hold onto that day. She’s been known to sit round the living room in her PJs holding it vegging out to whatever was on TV. That night she was snuggling one of the couch throw pillows sitting cross legged watching Adventure Time. Looking at her made me smile. I knew I wasn’t a real adult yet. I didn't’ feel like one either, but that wasn’t for lack of responsibility or trials. It was only a function of age and attitude. I envied mom sometimes. I wish I could relax as hardcore as she does. Work hard and play hard and all that. I sat with mom for a commercial-less DVR’d episode of Survivor. She never fought for the remote, but it was often on the satellite channel for Adult Swim whenever I took it over. She knew I wouldn’t sit there and watch those brainless cartoons with her, so she just handed over the remote when I sat down. She enjoys watching TV with me, but I’m pretty sure it has more to do with me than what we are watching. I’m positive she genuinely liked survivor though. When Jeff said “Next time on Survivor”, I headed upstairs to shower after kissing mom goodnight. Hurrah for skips! I always feel like a commercial assassin, my weapon of choice – the remote. I hate ads! I ran through the shower down stairs, packed my lunch for tomorrow, texted mom my work hours for the next couple of days, and headed up to my bedroom. It was as spotless as the rest of the house. Long ago, I had decided that the lack of privacy was worth mom keeping everything in order. I had nothing to hide from her anyway. I had a single drawer in my in-closet-dresser that is set aside as “private space”. She tells me she doesn’t go in that drawer, but I don’t keep much in there, just in case. Frankly, I just didn’t have anything I that would bother me if mom saw it. Between Cross Country and Track, homework, actual work, and the house finances, I just didn’t have time to clean. Forget about time to get into normal teenage trouble! I’m an old soul, or so I’ve been told. I would be graduating in a few months with four hundred other students, and I was currently ranked fourth in my class academically. I had become very Type-A. I didn’t have the best ACT score at thirty, but I was determined to get the most scholarship offers, so I applied for everything! I sat down at my desk and turned my attention to toward that goal. I started flipping through all the different college materials on my desk checking the due dates for entrance exams, ACT score submissions, finical aid info, and the like. Eventually, I sat back in my desk chair and puffed air through my bangs. I’d finally turned my hyper focused mind off about eleven pm, but it took a melatonin tablet to do it. I waited about ten minutes until I was good and under the influence. Then, I tried to work up the energy to get up and lay down on my bed, but the smell of my life going down in flames rolled into the room on a cloud of gray smoke from under my door. The Woes of Maddison Page Chapter 1 – My Hair Still Smells Like Smoke - Wednesday Morning - “Maddisonnnn.” Mandy Page whined through the bathroom door at her seventeen year old daughter. “We’ve got to go by Walmart for some panties, toothbrushes, and other stuff. Get off the pot and let’s go. Move it baby!” Mom whined at me. Her attempt at assertiveness failed miserably. She didn’t fool anyone. Even after everything we’d been through the last few days, her sad little attempt at parenting me made me smile. Tiger Mom she was not! “Momma.” I replied as respectfully as possible, which wasn’t as respectful as I’d normally have been. It was seriously hard not to laugh at her! “I don’t want to yell at you through the door, crack it alright?” I begged her tears forming in my eyes and a clearly quivering voice as my mood shifted dramatically. My back suddenly lanced pain through every nerve ending in my spine. My mood followed. “Listen baby, I know all of this is awful, but...” Mom said peeking into the bathroom inadvertently interrupting herself. Tears started streaming from my mother’s eyes when she saw me. It was an admittedly pitiful sight. “Oh My God, Baby my hair still smells like smoke! Oh Maddie, it’s all gone! Everything! All of Quentin’s pictures. Oh!” Mom dissolved into a pool of sorrow in the bathroom floor of our La Quinta Inn Suite. I was usually the strong one, but I was a straight up hot mess. I wanted to comfort her. She had mistaken my pain for sorrow, for trauma. I wanted to go to her, and hug her until all of our tears were spent. I couldn’t though. I was stuck on the damn toilet in desperate need of comforting myself. Mom’s breakdown took my painful tears down her emotional path with her. Then we were both bawling. Sometimes life finds fun new ways to kick you in the lady balls when you’re down. Not being able to help mom was a serious blow to my budding adult sized ego. I hurt everywhere and my lady balls had been kicked so much they were totally demolished! I needed to be the strong one like I’d always had been, but it just wasn’t happening that morning. I was only seventeen after all, but mom had been relying on me for a few years. Our dynamic had shifted after dad passed. I just sort of assumed his role at the house while mom healed. She’s just not built to be alone, or in charge for that matter. I thank God every day for the strength he gave me to support her back then, and I thank him for the purpose he granted me when I needed one. ‘Monkey Balls! I’ve even been keeping the checkbook and paying bills for almost three years now, I’m better than this! Get your shit together Girl!’ I gave myself an angry pep-talk. It’s not like mom wasn’t smart enough to pay our bills or balance the checkbook, but Daddy always handled those things for her. He worked and took care of the financial side of things. She had a debit card on the checking account and just brought Daddy the receipts. He kept her life simple because she likes it that way. He did it for her, so I had too. Dad had a budget and what not, so mom knew what was available for monthly toilet paper, groceries, and stuff, but she didn’t have any idea when we paid bills or how much we paid. She didn’t even know what bills had to be paid anymore. I did though, and I took care of them for years afterward too. I missed my Dad more and more with every passing day, and all of the sudden our memories of him were buried in a pile of ash where our home once stood. Every photo album, every framed picture, and even all the digital pictures that weren’t on Facebook were gone. I didn’t even make it out with my cell phone much less my laptop. It really crushed my heart. I was going to be right in the middle of this insurance claim, the city officials, and the financials on this house fire too. Just one more item in the overwhelming list of crap I had to keep up with. Worse, none of the officials would want to talk to me because I’m a year short on the year tally to be an “Adult”. There’d be a lot of relaying stuff through Mom. It’s not like I cared if she knew what was going on, but it was my job to keep things simple and easy for her. She is an awesome mother, but she seems to thrive when things around her are simple at home. No one can praise a child like my mother can. She related so well to me at every age and through every milestone. She was always right there in the floor with me. We colored. We watched cartoons. We played. We read. We did homework. We swam. We tickled. We had sleepovers and mom was always the star of the party. After Dad died though, I aged. I moved on into my teens and left mom in her footed PJs watching Cartoon Network happy to just be. I’d do anything for her. I’d protect her peace with everything I had! After all, a girl should keep her promises, especially those made over their father’s casket… I may have had the best childhood any kid could ever ask for, at least until dad. We weren’t loaded or anything, but mom’s demeanor almost forced the people around her into a happier simpler mood. She is a force of peaceful love. Her love is tangible, and I fought my teenaged hardest to make sure her light shined for everyone to see. Unfortunately, that laid a heavy burden on me, but it was a burden that I carried voluntarily. Worse though, it was my senior year in high school. I was totally booked up on time already. Paying the bills and watching the budget wasn’t as hard as you might think on my time, but it sure added a layer of worry to my life. Worry that none of my friends had to deal with, but I was ok with that it was my life. I chose to step in for Daddy, no one chose it for me. I wouldn’t let anyone take it from me either. My mind flooded with all the things that needed to be done. “Oh, Mommy!” I sobbed filled with crushing despair thick in the bathroom. “Oh, Baby!” She balled. I listed off all off the calls I needed to make to begin fixing this debacle. I cried to her about how I had to use the hotel phone to do it all, but I couldn’t stay in the office area of the suite long enough to finish a call before I was back in the bathroom. I couldn’t get anything done and it was adding to my sense of hopelessness. ‘Enough! Maddison get your crap together. You swore to Daddy that you’d protect her. You’re hurting her. Listen to her!’ I gave myself a hell of a motivational speech, but it fell on deaf internal ears. Mom came crawling over to me from where she’d collapsed to the floor, still in tears. I was sitting there with my shorts and panties down around my ankles stuck on the toilet like I had been for most of the past day and a half. She struggled up and hugged me fiercely despite my state of undress. We slowly got our shit back together. “Momma I’m so sorry about that. I guess I kinda lost it there.” I said gathering the strands of my resolve. “Oh Maddie,” my mom cooed with the weight of the world on her shoulders. “You are absolutely the best daughter any mother could hope for. You saved me when Daddy passed. You’ve been helping with everything sense then too. Don’t think I don’t know how much of your paycheck goes in my account.” I gave her a sad smile that told her that I knew I was caught. Mom worked in the back office for a medical billing company. They handled the collections for smaller firms like general practitioners or smaller surgical clinics that weren’t affiliated with a hospital system. Mom has a sweet voice and a tender disposition. She was perfect for first contact. She was horrible at the follow up collection calls. Sometimes I forget that she can put on office clothes and carry on like an adult at work. ‘Oops. Guess she’s not always Momma like she is at home.’ I thought. I had a nearly full time job with Tractor Supply Company, almost forty hours a week. Mom made decent money and could cover most of the bills. Dad’s retirement and his life insurance helped us even more, but I moved about half my check to the house account to cover my little car payment. I paid the insurance payments for both of our cars. Essentially, I paid for myself out of mom’s account, but I had thought she never really looked at it. I thought I was being clever, but in hindsight, I wouldn’t have left those duties to a thirteen year old either. She had let me “help” for almost four years, but I was certain, even back then, that she really didn’t check things that often. She wanted someone else to handle those things for her. So when I proved I could, she’d let me. We would never have had any money for new things or entertainment if I asked mom to cover my car, insurance, and other senior stuff. I bought my own clothes for the same reason. I thought I was being sneaky and leaving mom where she would be when I went off to college. That way it would be an easier transition for her, and I suppose that was still true. She just wasn’t quite as oblivious to it as I thought. ‘Guess I’m not as sneaky as I thought I was.’ I conceded. I could handle all the bills online. Mom had added me as an authorized decision maker on everything she could. Until I hit 18, our hands were tied in some places. She’d work, cook, clean, and not have to be burdened with anything else except an occasional “yes, I do” on the phone or a signature here and there. She relied on me handling those decisions for her. Daddy was doing his best to take care of us from beyond the grave, but mom would likely always have to work. It was probably for the best. Too much free time and that level of grief might have been the ruin of her. “It’s better for both of us this way. I have a sense of what income I’m going to need at state, and I don’t have any chores anyway. I’m kinda spoiled and this lets me contribute. Plus, you won’t have to adjust your budget when I leave for college. I can keep taking care of things from up there too.” I try to joke through my pesky tears. “Maddison, you don’t even have to clean your room! I do everything around the house honey. You are very spoiled.” Mom elbowed me. Then she threw on a very serious face. “I know things will change when you go off to State. I’m going to miss you so much. This is just the worst time for all this to happen! Maybe we should just get an apartment or something.” I hugged my mom and flushed the toilet. I was used to being the backbone of my little family. Being this angry and this scared just made me want to cry in frustration, but crying just pisses me off more. It was becoming a cycle feeding on itself and I needed to put a stop to it. I stood up and pulled my shorts and panties back up my slender hips. Then, I sat down next to her on the hotels bathtub wall. I gave my mom a powerful side hug, as much to bolster my courage as to reaffirm hers. “Pfft, you’ll probably see more of me in college than you do right now. If my scholarships come through, I’ll only have to work for my car, gas, and food. I’m going to try and pull enough hours to do that during the week and have the weekends at home for homework and Momma time.” “Really Maddie, you really are? Ewe, I hope you can. Oh, I’m going to miss you so much. I’ll do your laundry.” Mom sobs against my shoulder. “I promise to find a way to help you at school baby. I don’t want your next four years to be like the last few have been. As soon as the fire department makes their report, the home owners will kick in. It’ll get better Maddie, you just wait and see.” “I hope it’s soon. I don’t know how I’m going to keep up with school, college, the bills, and the fire stuff without a phone or a computer Momma.” I confessed to her as my shoulders slumped in defeat. Suddenly, I remembered the crispy computer held our budget, account information, and bank records. I immediately start listing things off building To-Do lists in my head. I had to rebuild all of that from memory, or at least enough of it to make a list of people to call. “How are your little legs honey?” Mom asked as she grabbed my bad leg and sat it in her lap to inspect it. Both of my legs were bruised and cut up pretty badly, but my right leg was at least sprained, possibly broken. I’d bailed out of my bedroom window after all! The smoke had come barreling under my door and I confess to shrieking like a blonde in a slasher movie before jumping for my life. - Back to Monday Night - I smelled the smoke as I saw it billowing out under my door. The scene stunned me for a moment, but I quickly got my wits together and tested the doorknob. Finding it hot, I raced over to my bed and battled the paint-stuck window. I finally jerked it open with a loud wooden thud. I moved back to my door and yelled “Fire” at the top of my lungs three or four times. I hoped that was enough to wake my mom. I was afraid she’d passed out on the couch watching TV and would never wake up again. That was a paralyzing thought. I snapped out of it, and I snagged my pillow with the Power Puff Girls pillow case on it. I chunked it out the window onto our hedges directly below my window. My bedroom was on the third floor, and it was a good distance to the ground from up there. The hedges around my side of our house were old, dense, and about six foot tall, not the best landing zone, but beggars and choosers and what not. I took a labored freighted breath, and slid out of my window. I tried to “fall” out onto my pillow, but only my left leg found it. My right leg fell straight into the hedge tearing it up and wrenching my leg in unnatural directions. I teetered off the top of the hedge and fell down to the ground butt-first in one long continuous action. I hit hard directly on my tailbone. I ended up on the ground with my right leg all bruised and torn up. My hedgerow idea sucked. ‘I guess it could have been worse. At least I didn’t just land on my feet and break a bunch of bones, but this feels almost as bad.’ I imagined. My left butt cheek was pretty banged up too. My lower back was bothering me fiercely from hitting the ground so hard. I felt blackness dancing at the edges of my sight. ‘I guess falling or flinging myself out of the window onto the hedge during my escape wasn’t the best idea. Gotta get my shit together and find out if mom got out. Just as soon as I can convince myself I can walk.’ My right wrist was throbbing from trying to catch myself both in the hedge and on the ground. I was torn up and bleeding everywhere but my left leg that the pillow had protected from the worst of it. It wasn’t a bad list of injuries for a major house fire and two story flight from a third story window! I finally managed to talk my battered body into getting up. I hobbled across the road to the Johnson’s house carrying my stupid pillow. I have no idea why I didn’t just leave it there on the lawn, but I didn’t. I had to get to our emergency location, and mom just had to be there. I clutched my stupid childish pillow tightly, because seriously, the entire neighborhood needed to see Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup! I guess comfort was more important to me than anything else right then, and that pillow had been with me for years. I rounded the corner of my house skirting the heat from the fire. I made it across the road and collapsed in the Johnson’s front yard. My leg wasn’t working right and Mom wasn’t where I wanted her to be, and I think I might have passed out in shock. The next thing I knew, a pair of strong arms was picking me up. I opened my eyes to see Mr. Johnson smiling down at me. “Oh thank God Maddison.” He hugged me close to him and screamed for my mom who was standing in front of our house trying to get to me. She got her only injuries from standing too close to the fire yelling for me to jump to safety. It was sort of stupidly heroic. “Oh My God Maddie, My Baby!” She bellowed running back to me across the road wearing her beat up Bugs Bunny jumper. “Hey Momma.” I grunted out around the pain and confusion. The four of us collapsed to the ground again in a huddle of hugs and reassurances. Sal and Jenny Johnson were our emergency contacts and location. The older neighbors had helped us a great deal since Dad. The four of us sat there on the lawn and watched the hungry fire devour our home while waiting on the professionals to arrive. I’ll always remember that night, but the thing that stood out the most was the fire was so hot I could feel it from across the road. The Woes of Maddison Page Chapter 2 – My Bipolar Bladder - Later that Monday Night - The fire department arrived within eight minutes of mom placing the call from the Johnson’s front yard. It hadn’t made much difference. The old place went right before our very eyes up like dried popsicle sticks. Smoke under my door to the four corner posts of the house falling into the basement only took twenty-eight minutes. Well that what I guessed based on the quick scan of my alarm clock on the way out of my window. When the posts fell I marked the time on mom’s watch just after she assaulted me in our neighbor’s front yard. Twenty-Eight minutes and everything we had been destroyed. Twenty-Eight minutes and our lives were forever changed. Twenty-Eight minutes between life before the fire and life after the fire. “Something in the kitchen went up first baby.” Mom babble to me still in her Bugs Bunny sleeper. She was terrified that I had been stuck and caught in the blaze and it was hard for her to believe I was going to be okay. “It was just so horrible. I couldn’t get to you! I was so scared! Nothing was on, and I was in the living room watching the TV. Then fire raced up the stairwell and I couldn’t get to the stairs. I couldn’t get to you!” She bellowed. “I can’t believe you’re ok. You are ok aren’t you? I was so scared Maddison. All I could think of was you were stuck up there in the fire. I thought I had lost you baby.” She whispered that last part to me and cried. It dawned on her that I likely had a problem getting down from the third floor. Mom frantically freed me from Mr. Johnson’s strong grasp and laid me out on the plush carpet of their manicured lawn. She started running her hands over me asking what hurt as she ran through her first aid training. I remember looking around laying there wondering if their sprinklers would come on while I lay on the grass. Shock does weird things to the mind. That, and mom looked kind of ridiculous checking me for wounds in those bunny footie pajamas. My right leg and arm were bleeding pretty badly. I was cut up all over the place, but my left hand was just scuffed up a little. Mom looked around and put my childlike pillow under my head. ‘I love this pillow and its childish pillow case. I’m kind of glad something from my old life survived. Plus, who likes sleeping on someone else’s pillow? This shall be my squishy!’ I declared mentally channeling my inner Dori. I decided that if mom was ok out there in her goofy PJs then I cherish my old pillow. “Honey, does your head hurt at all? Did you hit your head?” Mom asked me retaining bits and pieces of her emergency classes. “Mandy, the ambulance is here darlin.” The grandmotherly Mrs. Jenny addressed Mom. She had called them while mom was yelling at the fire to let me go. “Ma’am, please step back and speak to my partner Frank. I’ll check on your sister right there.” The EMT told her pointing to his partner. “That’s Maddison, she’s my daughter.” Mom supplied the EMT staggering meekly over to Frank. ‘That’s funny! PJs got ya Mom.’ I chuckled to myself. “Maddison, tell me what happened...” The EMT started, but I don’t really remember the last half of that sentence. I know I answered his questions, but the pain wiped away most of my memory. My next memory was from the ambulance for just a few moments. It was long enough to see mom sitting next to me and that I was strapped onto a gurney. She was talking to the EMT that had checked me out. I remember hearing mom was going to be fine. She’d only had some mild burns on her hands and forearms trying to get to me through the fire. I, on the other hand, needed a trip to the hospital for x-rays, stitches, and who knew what else. - Wednesday - Mom checked “my little legs” and we made our way back to our hotel bed. That whole window-flying hospital-staying experience was sitting at a nine out of ten on the suck-O-meter. In my short life only losing Dad had sucked worse, that had been a solid ten out of ten. I sat down heavily on the hotel bed trying to hold my leg up from the recoil, but my back wasn’t putting up with a slow descent. Mom put my bad right leg up on a stack of pillows to elevate it, cause Dr.’s orders, but my back was hurting no matter how I laid. I didn’t want to go to the store with mom. In fact, I really didn’t want to move at all. I hurt everywhere! It felt like how I imagined being in a car wreck would feel, and I was totally prepared to throw a fit about getting up again. ‘Maddie – 0, Gravity - 1 – Well done gravity! You have surely kicked my ass.’ I chuckled at my own stupid internal commentary. “Momma, I don’t want to go with you.” I whined. “ It’s freezing out there, and I can’t wear pants with this leg splint thing.” Then a tingle in my lady bits hit me again. “Plus, it seems I need to use the bathroom. Again! I shouldn’t have even left. ARGH!” I groused. ‘Why can’t the eff’n toilet be friggin cushioned or something? I need one of those gunshot-in-the-ass pillows from TV.’ I mumbled pushing up out of bed. ‘Of all the leftovers from my two story flight, my bipolar bladder had to be my least favorite.’ I thought. “Honey, you just went, literally moments ago. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” The concern flooded mom’s face while she waved her hands around. I couldn’t help it. I began to cry, “Dammit, I know momma, and it hurts so bad when I get up. Please help me back in there. I’ll just fucking sit on the toilet for the rest of my goddamn life. Maybe I can fold up some towels to sit on.” I lamented. I was filled with exhaustion and aggravation, and my poor attitude got the better of my vocabulary. I hardly ever cuss, out loud at least, but I was tired of… everything. I was exhausted. I threw myself a well-deserved pity party. I’d just have to feel bad about biting mom’s head off later, but being a God fearing young lady from the south, I knew I would be mortified at my own behavior later. How many seventeen year old girls do you know that work thirty plus hours a week, go to school, run cross country at a state level, maintain a 4.16 GPA? I was trying my damnedest to get into the best school I could afford for my bachelors. Now I had to do all that while trying to piece our life back together from the pieces the demon of a fire took from me. Not to mention all the responsibility I picked up after Dad passed, and now my bipolar bladder was forcing my injured back into service it wasn’t apparently prepared to give. I sighed and got up. As always, I was doing my best, and I was way too stubborn to give up. While I wallowed in my own pity, mom helped me up off the bed. I made it vertical with a weight lifters grunt, and I shuffled on to the bathroom by myself. I really needed that tiny bit of independence, but I just left the door open this time since I couldn’t talk to mom if I closed it anyway. I looked at my sickly pale complexion in the bathroom mirror while sitting on the toilet. I stared at it for a solid minute before deciding that the crew of The Walking Dead would have to put color on me to let me shamble on their set! Mom had seen my perky butt a million times, and we were bunked in this one bed suite with little to no privacy anyway. Modesty just didn’t matter to me anymore, at least where my mom was concerned. So, I just left the damn door wide open. ‘God I look horrible. I look like a disabled vampire with coffin head.’ My morbid sense of humor supplied. ‘I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.’ I mentally quoted one of my favorite books. I had my bad leg stretched out in front of me with my panties around that ankle. ‘I wish I could figure out how to prop it up on the tub and leave it there. This would be way more comfortable.’ I thought while playing around with it unsuccessfully. We’d only been in this suite for a couple days, but it was already wearing on me. I was hurting not wanting to move, but I was cagey and wanting to get out of there. Nothing was mine. Nothing was the same. I couldn’t get anything done without my stuff. I was already battling the senior everything-is-changing-stress, but this was just too much. ‘I have nothing. I mean technically our cars are just singed, but drivable. Bubbly paint doesn’t keep the car from going. The cars were a crispy silver lining I guess.’ I took a stab at cheering myself up. It didn’t work. “Mommy, I don’t know what’s going on inside me.” I broke down again feeling the overwhelming emotional weight of my situation. I needed my mommy, and like always she was right there ready and willing to bend reality for me just like I do for her. I cried into my hands in the bathroom of a hotel with all my dreams falling away in tears and ashes. Seriously, I was conjuring scenarios in my mind where I’d have to stay with mom in an apartment and take care of her for some reason, or a ton of different scenarios where college never happened. My overactive imagination was jumping down every horrible situation I could dream up. I was spiraling. It’s wasn’t one of my finest moments. “What do you mean honey.” Mom sounded petrified. She needed me sure, but right then she had no idea how to help me. “I just went to the bathroom. I mean, I barely peed at all, but I felt like I couldn’t hold it anymore as soon as I sat down. It was hurting to hold it while I walked in here. It felt like I was about to pee all over myself sitting there on the bed. Walking was even scarier. Even when I manage to go a little, the relief doesn’t last long before I’m back at the near pissing myself feeling.” I wailed. “Maddie you didn’t drink anything, and we were only in the other room maybe five minutes. You know there’s nothing in there right? Why don’t you try pushing a little, and I’ll help you lay down again? Then you won’t have to worry.” Mom coached while pointing at my traitorous bladder. “GAWD Momma! I know how to pee. I’m telling you something is wrong. My bladder isn’t full, but I’m tingling like I’m about to wet myself.” I huffed at her while crossing my arms. “Don’t take it out on me young lady! It’s only been a couple days since the fire. Maybe you hurt yourself worse than we thought? I don’t remember talking to the ER guys or the EMTs about bladder stuff. Did you talk to them?” Mom prompted. I dried my eyes with some toilet paper, “No Momma. I’m not even sure it was a thing then. Plus, the pain from the fall was keeping some of this other stuff away. I was hurting too bad to feel the tingle, but it’s all I feel now! And… I’m sorry for yelling.” I conceded hanging my head. Mom sighed and looked down. The look on her face told me her fear had elevated. “Baby, your panties are a little wet. Do you know when that happened?” She asked me still staring down at the condition of my underwear with a patient look of concern in her loving eyes. “They’re WHAT!” I sobbed anew. “It’s not much honey. Maybe you just went a little when you stood up. It looked like it hurt. Ha! that happens to me all the time. Peeing a little here and there happens to a lot of girls. I’ve had to wear a heavy pad since you were born.” Mom offered. It did hurt, but I had no idea that I’d “leaked.” The thought was simply terrifying. ‘OMG!’ “Have you ever held it so long that your control was literally bouncing. You’d flexed the muscles so long they would contract and relax, like a pulse you don’t have control over. That feeling of you have literally one moment longer before there’s a mess to clean up. When your bladder says a rowdy Fuck You and dumps its load without your consent?” I begged her to understand. Mom nodded. “That’s how I’m feeling all the time right now. It’s exhausting and it’s killing my already pissed off back.” I groused. In another fit of age-inappropriate mental fatigue, I dramatically kicked my underwear and shorts off of my bad leg with the good one. I needed the wet panties as far away from me as possible. Mom took some toilet paper and wiped the tears from my face, and started a bath. “I’ll go to Wally World by myself honey. You said your back was hurting, so you just take a nice long hot bath and enjoy all this never ending hotel hot water. Mommy will be right back baby.” She told me visually assessing me for further damage. She wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed like a terrific idea, soaking in the tub. I have always loved to soak in a deep hot bath. Our hot water heater was under too much demand and way too old to keep up with a deep water baths at home. Suddenly, I was excited that I could soak, then shave, and have enough hot water to shower off too. ‘I’ll finally feel human again, at least until I had to resume my porcelain vigilance.’ I sighed. ‘What the hell is going on with me?! Mom’s still got to make that Wal-Mart run, but at least she seems willing to make it on her own now. I’m just glad I don’t have to go and that she can get to her checking account. Fuck!’ I shouted internally. I’d forgotten that I couldn’t “submerge” my leg. Mom had grabbed her purse on the way out the front door of our former home. She still had her debit and credit cards. Thank the Lord! If she’d lost those too, we’d have no access to the meager funds we currently had available. As it was, I only had temporary checks on my account. Work had given me the week off paid. That was super nice of my boss, and the old jerk wasn’t known for his super niceness. Mom had taken the week off too. She wasn’t fortunate enough for bonus unpaid leave though. She had to burn the rest of her vacation and sick/personal days. She wouldn’t be off around Christmas now. That realization hit me hard. “Oh momma, all your Christmas presents were already under the tree, and I can’t take a bath cause of the stitches.” I cried yet again feeling the weight of our loss. My emotions were all over the place. I knew it, and still couldn’t stop it. That just pissed me off more. I was really excited to give her the Sylvester Jumper set. It was the pivotal part of her Christmas. Mom still had what was left of the Bugs footed sleeper, but I don’t think she would be sleeping in it anymore. It probably reminded her of the fire, and neither of us wanted that. My resolve hardened again. Mom would have the Sylvester jumper set for Christmas! With that goal I rediscovered my strength, if only temporarily.

This story is complete and is available on kindle or my patreon, along with other stories (Bad Seed, Beach Baby. There's 4 new, ongoing stories there for first tier patrons and 6 for second tier members- the first 4 same as the first tier in addition to 2 short stories. Fun in The Sun featuring more adventures of Liz and Chloe, and Up and Away, two diaper boys on a hot air balloon adventure) https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WH7V8WT/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i5 PUMPKIN PATCH by CK “Come on, Lizzy. Let’s go to the pumpkin patch. Please? Pretty pumpkin please with whip cream on top? It’s Halloween- today’s the last day to go.” Chloe begged her best friend and roommate. She clasped her hands like an excited little girl and put her best puppy dog pout. “I thought you were going with your club? They rented a bus, and you know I have a paper due.” Elizabeth looked up from her laptop, unswayed by her roommate’s childish antics. Chloe dropped her eyes and fidgeted, tapping the tips of her pointer fingers together. “Well. I was gonna. But June was there and she-Sorry! I mean xie!” Her eyes widened as if she’d made a grievous, unforgivable mistake as she stumbled over the pronouns, terrified June would pop out of nowhere and holler at her even though she was alone with Liz in their dorm room. “Xie wanted me to sit with xim.” Liz snorted. “So, she was bothering you again? You need to tell that unhinged loon to piss off.” “Liz!” Chloe’s cheeks turned red. “It’s not so easy. I don’t want to hurt June’s feelings.” As a pre-op transgirl herself, Chloe could empathize with June’s feelings of being uncomfortable with her body. She was not as good at asserting herself as Liz was; that’s why she admired how confident and self assured as her best friend was. She wanted to be more like Liz. She wanted to speak up when June made her uncomfortable; June flirted with her and often got handsy. She never protested, never told June to stop; she never encouraged it, either. She was too self conscious and scared, especially after witnessing June’s spectacular, screaming meltdowns whenever someone upset xer. Some of June’s public tantrums had found their way onto Youtube. Chloe had no proof, but she was pretty sure Liz was behind a few of those postings. “Sure, it’s easy. You just open your mouth and tell her to stop and leave you alone.” Liz went back to typing on her laptop. The clicking of her keys filled Chloe’s ears. “I’ve tried, but she-xie scares me. I couldn’t take being trapped on a bus with xer, so I came home. But I really, really wanna go. You know how much I’ve been looking forward to Halloween.” It was all she’d been talking about for the last two weeks. It was her favorite holiday; it was also Liz’s. The keyboard stopped clacking. Chloe bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “Besides, like I’ve been saying all this time, it’ll be more fun if you’re there with me. We don’t have to go anywhere near that group. It’ll just be the two of us. So, please?” “I have to work on my paper.” “I’ll do it. Take me to the pumpkin patch and I’ll write your paper. You know I’m good at writing papers. I always get A’s.” “I don’t know….” Liz debated, running a hand over her buzzed head. Chloe loved rubbing her head- the short hair was soft and fuzzy, reminding her of a teddybear. “Oh, alright.” She caved when she couldn’t come up with any more good excuses. “Yay!” Chloe cheered, twirling in excitement. Her flowy orange skirt flared out. Black leggings hid her diaper from view but could do nothing to conceal the obvious, tell-tale bugle of such a thick diaper. One quick glance and anyone could see her heavily diapered state. The crinkle of her diaper filled the room. She wore a fuzzy black sweater with a ghost and a smiling Jack O Lantern. Liz smiled in amusement at her childish antics. “Are you ever going to grow up?” She teased. She felt too old to go to the pumpkin patch, but that was just the kind of place an overgrown nineteen year old like Chloe loved. Liz knew she could easily put her foot down and refuse and Chloe wouldn’t argue. Chloe never did. Whatever Liz truly wanted or insisted on, Chloe caved like a house of cards. She always sought to please, even at the expense of her own feelings. Other people- like June- often took advantage of her. Liz felt a little guilty for the rare times she took advantage of Chloe. But she tried to make up for it by being protective and looking out for her. And letting Chloe feel safe enough to indulge her little side, like she was doing now. Liz stared at Chloe, at her carefree smile, brown eyes lit up in excitement. She really was like an overgrown child, filled with innocent wonder. Watching her made Liz almost nostalgic for the few good moments of her own childhood. It almost made her want to be a kid again. Then she remembered the bulk of her unhappy childhood- screaming parents, her father diagnosed with a fatal glioblastoma brain tumor, her grieving, alcoholic mother. The only good memories she had were of her times spent at the stable for her weekly riding lesson. Dizzy from twirling, Chloe collapsed to the floor with a giggle and a crinkle. She’d had a tough childhood, too. She was the only child of failed Las Vegas showgirl turned single mother. Her mom became a dancing instructor. She’d been accepting of her son-turned-daughter, but she’d also micromanaged Chloe, determined to have a daughter accomplished in tap, jazz, and ballet. Chloe had been kept on a rigorous training and competition schedule; she felt like she never had much of a childhood. Perhaps that was why she indulged in her AB side so much. She wore diapers 24/7, and had for the past year, ever since coming to college. She didn’t own any panties; diapers were her underwear. The thick padding gave her a sense of security and comfort, plus she liked the way it hid and flattened out her boy-bits. She was pre-op, but she’d started HRT. When she looked in the mirror, all she could see were the parts of her that screamed BOY; the width of her shoulders, the V of her torso, her too narrow hips, flat chest. She wanted the soft, womanly curves like tough girl Liz had. Chloe hid what remained of her masculinity behind lace, frills, ruffles, and a smile. Her padding gave her a confidence boost. Liz stood up, closed her laptop, and stretched. Chloe looked up at her from the floor and admired the curves of Liz’s body, both attracted to her and jealous of her at the same time. Being jealous made her feel guilty, so she looked at her toes up in the air. With her legs splayed and up, her diaper bulge was on prominent display. She did her best to hide her diapers out in public, but with such thick, noisy padding there was only so much she could do. “Do you need a diaper change before we go? How wet are you?” Liz reached for her wallet, leather jacket, and motorcycle keys. Chloe scrunched her face up, blowing blonde bangs out of her eyes. These days, she wasn’t always aware of the status of her diaper. She knew when it was saturated and she needed a change before she leaked, but that was it. She’d been padded for so long, so used to wetting and messing herself, she hardly paid attention. She only knew she was peeing after the fact, when she felt her diaper swell warm and wet. A lot of times, she failed to notice that. She only became aware of her diaper once it was so full and saggy with pee it squished when she sat down. Bowel movements took her by surprise too- most of the time she didn’t know she had to mess until the back of her diaper was full and heavy. She hadn’t had a dry night in over a year. Six months ago, on a dare from Liz, she put on a pair of Liz’s panties. She hadn’t even gone 30 minutes before she’d peed all over the carpet. Now, she couldn’t be out of her diapers even if she wanted to. She’d never set out to become diaper trained but, maybe, subconsciously she had. Maybe, deep down, she wanted her emotional need for diapers to turn physical. Either way, she had no intention of ever giving up her diapers. She stuck her hand with black and orange nail polish down the front of her leggings. Inside her diaper didn’t feel wet, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t peed. It just meant she didn’t know if she’d peed. Messes always announced their presence, but pee was sneaky. The pink plastic shell was warm and only a little swollen over her crotch. “Just a little wet. My diaper can hold a lot more, so I’m good.” “Then grab your jacket and let’s go.” Liz waited by the door. “Kay!” Chloe rolled to her hands and knees, oblivious to how visible her diaper bulge was. She got to her feet, grabbed her heavy double knitted cardigan jacket and crinkled after Liz. tbc...

If you know what "chikan" is in Japanese, then you know what fun diapered adventure lays ahead. If not, you could always google it, or leave it as a surprise. This story has been available on my Patreon for the last few weeks. Part 2 of this one, an update on Pumpkin Patch, and a new Valentine's Day short story are posted on patreon as well. The entire story is available on my patreon, along with many others (Bad Seed, Beach Baby, along with 4 new stories for first tier members and 6 (2 short stories) for 2nd tier members) https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten Or you can purchase it individually on Kindle (or read it for free on Kindle Unlimited). https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WNHL5L8/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0 THE CHIKAN by CK Cute Kitten Amber was on her last pullup. For the past few hours out shopping in Shibuya, she’d managed to keep it dry. She was on the train heading home, so she was certain her pink pullup would stay dry. Maybe when she walked in the door and Aunt Lisa checked her pullup, she’d praise her for keeping it dry. Three wet pullups, and their deal was Amber went to diapers full time, just like her cousin. Amber already had two wet pullups this morning. She winced at the thought. Those wet pullups hadn’t been accidents. Now, she felt guilty for intentionally wetting them. Peeing in a pullup was so much easier and preferable to trying to figure out the all the buttons on those fancy Japanese toilets. The last time she’d tried a toilet in public, she’d hit all the buttons and got sprayed in the face by a bidet. Maybe she’d figure it out in time. She’d only been in Japan for a month. There was a lot to get used to; new culture, new language. But it was tougher than she’d been expecting. Her love of anime and three years of Japanese in high school had made her feel confident that she was well prepared for such a big transition in her life. The move from America to Japan was not going as smoothly as she’d anticipated. Her trouble with the toilets was proof of that. The train slid to a smooth stop, but the change in motion still rocked her sideways. People near her pressed in, squishing her while other people slid past as passengers shuffled off the train and more squeezed on, politely pushed in by platform attendants. Her full bladder twinged with each jostle. She clenched her inner thigh muscles together, squeezing the dry padding. She was almost home; she could make it. Next time, she was so not having those extra cappuccinos. The café she’d stopped at was one of those limited time only, specialty pop up cafes Tokyo was famous for. This one had a Sailor Moon theme. How could she say no to that? She’d had to buy- and drink- four coffees to get the exclusive Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask matching mug set, along with the matching Luna the Cat and Artemis the Cat sets. The artwork was exquisite, plus put the mugs side by side and it looked like they were kissing. Amber sighed, thrilled by the romance of her purchase. Her otaku friends back home in America would be so jealous. She couldn’t wait to show them next time she talked to them online. For a moment, she felt a pang of homesickness. But America wasn’t her home anymore; Japan was. Her American friends were now her online friends. She bit her lip at the thought. The train pulled out of the station. Standing passengers swayed to and fro; she clutched the pole she stood next to tighter. Aside from her friends, she didn’t miss home much. She knew she should, but the fact that she didn’t bothered her. Maybe she just needed more time. It’s why she’d come here, after all- to put distance between herself and her past. To give herself time to heal and be a normal girl. That’s what Aunt Lisa told her to do. America held nothing but pain, anger, and bitter loneliness. Her mother had just started serving a long prison sentence for a large amount of cocaine. Growing up, her mother had been more into chasing her next high than raising her daughter. Amber had mostly raised herself. Her grandparents lived in a Florida retirement home; they couldn’t take her in. At 18, Amber was a junior in high school in the American school system; in Japan, the equivalent was her second year of kotogakko school. She had flunked a year in middle school after a lot of problems at home, fighting with her mother a lot, trying to make her get sober. That was the last time Amber had tried to get her mother to care more about her than her damn drugs. After her mother’s latest arrest and cocaine charge, Amber had been prepared to drop out of school, go full time at McDonald’s and get another part time job so she’d have enough money to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly. Then Aunt Lisa showed up at her apartment door out of the blue. Aunt Lisa was her mother’s younger sister. In college, she’d fallen head over heels for a Japanese man studying abroad; they’d had several classes together. At the end of their time together, he gave her a diamond ring and she followed him to Japan. All that happened before Amber was born; she only knew her aunt through family stories, photographs and very rare Skype calls. Aunt Lisa had always sent Amber birthday and Christmas gifts, at least until age 11, when Amber told her aunt to stop because her mom just pawned the gifts to pay for her drug habit. Aunt Lisa offered Amber a place in her house, to be a part of her own family. A chance for a new life. A chance to finish school. A new start in a new country; something Amber had been praying for. She hadn’t hesitated to say yes. The train pulled into another station. She swayed with the stopping motion. Her full bladder protested and she squeezed her muscles tight. People pushed past her; an elbow jabbed into her lower back. A small spurt of pee warmed the front of her pullup. Her heart fluttered and she clamped down tight with her pelvic muscles to stop the yellow tide. The thin padding soaked her pee up but it still felt wet and clammy. She winced- would Aunt Lisa count this as a wetting? Or would she let Amber slide since it was only a few drops? A few big drops. Would diapers full time really be all that bad? Her night diapers were so thick and comfortable; she could pee all she wanted without worrying about leaks or leaving her cozy bed. Full time diapers meant no more worries about those fancy toilets with all those buttons and kanji. Her cousin was the same age as her and diapered full time, so she wouldn’t be the only one in a diaper. Diapers also meant a longer time between changes, so she could go shopping all day without worrying about changing her pullups or finding a toilet. Diapers also meant thick and noisy underwear peeping out from under her short skirt. Her eyes widened at the thought. Pullups were so much thinner and discrete. They didn’t show. Right? Nervously, Amber smoothed down her flouncy skirt. She certainly felt her pullup if she pressed in enough, but it was so thin she was sure no one could see it. Pullups were thicker than panties, like wearing several pair at once, yet they were so much thinner than her bulky night diapers. All of her wettings in her pullups and her diapers were not accidents. The only true accident she’d had was on the long flight over. Travelling by herself for the first and only time in her eighteen years, she’d been nervous. Toss in a gnarly bout of air turbulence and she’d been too terrified to leave her seat to get up and pee. Fear had convinced her the plane was going to crash and she was going to die. That was her kind of luck. Surviving the plane and waiting in a very long line for the ladies’ room, she hadn’t been able to make it. One little leak had turned into a massive flood. Her luggage had been misplaced, so she’d been stuck in wet pants until her aunt found her. From Narita airport all the way home, nobody had said a word about her wet, pee-smelling jeans. Strangers stared covertly. Only foreigners openly gawked. No one teased or taunted her and they all looked hastily away when she made eye contact. A few people might have taken photos, but they were very covert about it so she never noticed. At her aunt’s house, Amber’s new home, Aunt Lisa had told her to take a bath and gave her some of her cousin’s clothes to borrow. The clothes were a little too small, but she managed to squeeze into them. Amber had felt so ashamed and embarrassed- so much for making a good impression. Her only consolation had been seeing the way her cousin’s pants poofed out and hearing the tell-tale crinkle. Settling into her new life, Amber noticed how doting Aunt Lisa treated her cousin. He was the same age as Amber- eighteen- but Aunt Lisa treated him much younger. She even checked and changed his diapers, like she didn’t trust him to manage his own diapers. He never fought her- he seemed to enjoy the attention. And when Amber had her accident, Aunt Lisa had been just as tender with her Amber’s heart had ached with yearning and jealousy at her cousin’s treatment. In those loving moments, Amber saw flashes of her mother when she was growing up- rare moments of sobriety and regret, when her mother remembered she had a daughter. Aunt Lisa treated Amber like an adult, but Amber secretly wanted the gentle warmth her cousin and his diapers got, something she never had enough of in her own childhood. So she’d purposefully wet her pants again, just to see how her aunt would react. No yelling, no judgement- just tender care. A few more wet pants during the following days found Amber in pullups. A couple of wet nights landed her in diapers, along with a plethora of hugs and kisses. Amber had wanted and craved that attention. Now she found herself enjoying the added feelings of security and comfort her extra padding provided. Her new dilemma; should she stay in pullups during the day and put more effort into figuring those damn toilets out, or just give up and go diapered full time?

This story is complete and is available on Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WN7H42M/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i4 WITCH'S BREW by Cute Kitten Joshua poked at the chocolate cereal puffs and marshmallow bats floating in the milk puddle on his highchair tray. His cheeks and chin were wet with milk; a couple of mushy bats stuck to his face. His plastic bib was as messy as his tray. He wore most of his food instead of eating it, despite his efforts to the contrary. He poked at another cereal puff, trying to pinch it between his fingers. The soggy cereal smooshed under his uncooperative fingers. He puffed his cheeks out in frustration, staring down at his hands and the delicate, silvery webbing of scars on his porcelain skin. His skin was so pale the scars were barely visible. He turned his wrist and the spidery, thin lines shimmered with a pearly sheen. Normal scars were varying shades of pink, red, and white. Not pearl and silver and covering nearly his entire body. The odd scars were souvenirs from a necromantic witch who had slowly burned and destroyed his nerves. He'd been very close to death. Aunt Gertrude saved him just in time. She even brewed him a potion distilled from the Font of Youth, to regrow and restore his injured body. Recovery was not magically instantaneous; his body was like that of a baby, and he had to relearn all over again. Hence his infantile lack of fine motor skills and barely controlled gross motor skills. And Auntie Gertrude raising him like he was an oversized baby. Physically, he was a baby. He couldn't even manage to feed himself yet. Josh puffed his cheeks out and smacked one hand into the milk puddle on his tray. His fingers accidentally hit the rim of the bowl; milk and cereal arched through the air and splattered onto the floor. He froze, eyes going wide as he realized just how big his mess was. He was in so much trouble; Aunt Gertrude would be furious. He wasn't supposed to feed himself; he wasn't ready for that yet. Aunt Gertrude had told his big half-sister Tabitha to feed him, but Tabi had snuck down into Aunt Gertrude's liquor cellar. So Josh had taken the opportunity to prove he was a big boy who could feed himself. He'd failed. Claws clicked on the tiled floor then a snuffling noise near the high chair legs. Josh looked down to see a monstrous, fluffy black dog-like creature lapping up the milk and cereal. Pandora, Aunt Gertrude's familiar. Even at peace, Dora was terrifying. She was slightly larger than a Great Dane, bulky, and fluffier than a Tibetan Mastiff. Her cat-like claws and teeth were made for ripping into the flesh of her prey. She was a barghest, a hellhound; a beast who could only be controlled by a powerful witch. Her massive pink tongue swept out, licking up the last of the spilled breakfast. Dora raised her massive head and started licking the highchair tray. Josh giggled in relief, patting the thick black fur with his clean hand. Orange ribbon was tied in a bow by each ear, making her look pretty for Halloween. Plastic bowl and rubber coated baby spoon clattered to the floor as Dora pushed them out of her way. Finished with the tray, she moved on to Josh's milk-sticky hand then his face. Joshua giggled some more, squirming helplessly as her rough tongue tickled his baby soft, delicate skin. He kicked his feet, his soggy diaper crinkling audibly. A wave of warmth engulfed his crotch as he wet himself but he barely paid any attention. He was too busy being tickle-attacked by Dora's monstrous tongue. "Pipe down. You're gonna attract the old bat with all that racket." Tabitha crept silently out of the basement. She scowled at her little half-brother. They had the same father but different witch mothers. Just looking at him annoyed her. He was so damn pretty; a soft, lovely, delicate baby doll she often just wanted to smash. She felt like an ungainly sow in comparison. "S-sowwy." Josh gasped out in a toddler lisp. His lungs ached from laughing. Pandora sat on her haunches, licking the milk and marshmallows off her muzzle. "Doggy tickles." Shaggy, pale blonde bangs fell into his big green eyes as he ducked his head, looking down at his tray that smelled of doggy slobber. He poked at the mess on his bib. He hated making his big sister mad; it reminded him too much of all the times his mother had been upset with him. "Whatever. Just don't start blubbering." Tabitha snorted, tossing her frizzy dark brown ringlets over her shoulder. She didn't even glance at his tray or bowl on the floor; she turned and went straight to the kitchen cabinet above the sink to fetch a glass. She held up the pilfered bottle to the autumn morning sun streaming through the window. The light caught the pale amber liquid, making it sparkle and shimmer. The bottle should have been brown; instead it was clear to show off the liquor. A homemade label decorated with drawings of pumpkins covered in spider webs. She read the squiggly handwriting. "Spider Cider." She snorted. "Cute. How appropriate for Auntie's Halloween party." She sat the bottle down and turned to Joshua, who still sat quietly in his highchair. "You know, I'm 21. I'm finally old enough to go to the Samhain Feast. Become a full-fledged coven member. Instead, my Halloween is stuck here changing your diapers and handing out candy to filthy brats." "Sowwy." Josh whispered softly, not daring to look up at her. Instead he looked around for his binky. He didn't see it, so he slipped his thumb in his mouth instead and started to suck. Pandora's wet nose bumped into his bare calf and he smiled a little at the ticklish sensation. The barghest stood in front of the highchair and just stared Tabitha down. She didn't growl or bare her teeth; she just stared at the girl. "Dowa, dat not nice." Josh lisped at the barghest. That dead stare trapped her like a cornered rabbit. It was the look of a dog that was considering attacking. Pandora often gave Tabitha that look. She found it almost as annoying as Aunt Gertrude's reprimands. Pandora never attacked her yet, but often looked at her like the damn mutt was thinking about it. Tabi tried to give the familiar a wide berth; all it took was one time, one incident. A barghest attack was hard to survive, and with her sealed magic it was almost impossible. "I'm not scared of you." Defiance laced her tone. Her limbs were stiff and her knees shook. "Anyway, since this Halloween's gonna suck, I might as well have some fun while I can. The least Auntie can do is spare me one lousy bottle of her brew." She slowly, intentionally turned her back on the beast and tried to open the bottle. Her hands trembled and she waited with baited breath to hear a growl in her ear, pain erupt as teeth sank into her shoulder. When no attack came, she let out her breath, hitched on a smirk and slowly, cautiously turned around. "Hey, baby pants, you want a sip?" She waved the bottle, amber liquid sloshing around. "No, he doesn't. You aren't having one, either." A calm, firm voice filled the kitchen.

Below is an except from my latest Amazon/Kindle book Her 2nd Birthday...again (part one: the calm before the storm). This is going to be a three part story, with part two being worked on as we speak. If you are interested in purchasing this book or reading it on Kindle, here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07LDBHRHF If you are interested in checking out my author page on Amazon, follow this link: amazon.com/author/thatdaddyfellow _______________________________________________________________________________ The 7 AM sun started to peek through the curtains in Kayla’s room. Once it got past the window, it shined brightly against the white bars of her adult sized crib. From there, it would have hit her eyelids and forced her awake, but she was already wide awake. Today was Kayla’s second birthday and she had no intention of missing anything. Well, technically it was her 21st birthday, but not today. Her and her mommy were planning on celebrating her adult birthday next weekend so they could spend today having an amazing birthday party for her and all of her little friends. “Happy birthday to me!” Kayla belted it, not caring what time it was. She wasn’t able to tell anyway, with a lack of clock in her nursery, she just saw sunlight and that meant it was time to wake up. “Happy birthday to me” she repeated, hopping up and down on the crib mattress. “Happy birthday dear Kayla” sang Kayla, warm in her pink footed sleeper mommy decided to put her in last night. “Happy birthday to me!” she ended to song, screaming the last verse. Once she was done, she grabbed the pacifier that was bouncing from the sleeper’s collar and popped it in her mouth. It was her favorite binky because it had a cartoon monkey on the shield. She loved it since mommy liked to call her mommy’s little monkey. Sarah was sleeping peacefully before she heard the concert going on in the nursery through the baby monitor. She was startled away, thinking something was wrong. Once she heard the birthday song blaring through the monitor, she calmed down and even let a laugh escape. She knew today was going to be a fun day. Once she looked at her clock and saw the early hour, she also figured it would be a long day. Figuring her little girl could handle another minute alone, the 25 year old threw a robe on and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. If she was going to be up this early, coffee was going to be a necessity. Once she got to the kitchen, she was glad that she set an alarm on the coffee maker as the smell was heavenly. Sarah poured herself a cup and just savored the first sip. This was probably going to be the least chaotic part of her day, but she was ok with that. She wanted Kayla to have the best birthday a girl could ask for. After she took another sip, she figured it was time to go greet her baby girl, heading to the fridge first to grab a bottle filled with chocolate milk: Kayla’s favorite. The excited birthday girl continued to hop up and down in her crib. “Mommy, where are you?” she asked, knowing mommy could hear her through the monitor sitting on her changing table. Her question was answered almost immediately as the door began to open. Once she saw Sarah’s beautiful face, her smile grew ten times the size it was. Kayla stuck her arms out like she was trying to hug her across the room. “Mommy!” was all she could get out. “Good morning, my beautiful birthday girl” Sarah cooed back, using her most syrupy voice. Her little one loved baby talk, so she was going to be using it all day. Setting the full bottle on the changing table next to the baby monitor, she made her way to the crib.”Look at you baby girl, mommy’s little two year old” Sarah continued to use her “mommy voice” as she tickled Kayla’s tummy. The baby talk being sent in Kayla’s direction was doing a great job of breaking down whatever adult barriers were in place. She planned on letting go of any adult thoughts early on so she could spend her birthday in total little space. “I wuv ou mommy” she said, mixed with a giggle, as she hugged Sarah over the crib bars. “Mommy loves you to sweetheart. Now, before we go get some nummies, mommy needs to check your Pamper.” Grabbing the zipper at the neck of the sleeper, she unzipped it down her little one’s chest and the inside of her left leg, exposing Kayla’s thick nighttime diaper. Ever since she could remember, Kayla had been a bedwetter. As a kid, it was the most embarrassing thing ever. Sleepovers were completely off the table. As she made her way into her teen years, the issue did not go away and she figured this was something she was just going to have to live with. After researching what she could do to stop the bedwetting, she came across an ABDL forum and the rest was history. While Kayla did hate that she was a bedwetter, waking up in a wet diaper was a great way to get into little space. That was the case today. “A certain little monkey soaked her dipey last night” Sarah responded as she squeezed the swollen padding between her little one’s legs. “Such a good girl. Mommy is so happy that her little girl made lots of pee pees last night” she said, trying to reassure Kayla. While she knew the ABDL girl had mostly accepted this side of herself, a little positive reinforcement never hurt. “Big pee pees mama” the girl trapped in the crib giggled around the shield of her pacifier. “Very big pee pees” Sarah reassured her little with another pat to her bulky padding. “Now, how about we get your pee butt changed and into a clean Pamper?” While it was phrased like a question, Kayla had no choice. “Sit back so I can put down the side of your crib.” The diaper clad girl immediately flopped back on her butt, feeling her diaper squish underneath her. She didn’t mind being in a wet diaper for while. The squishy padding actually felt pretty good. A messy diaper, however, was a different story. As her mind wandered, she didn’t even notice that mommy had dropped the crib side and was inviting her little one to make her way to the adult sized changing table. “Sweetheart? Paging Kayla…” Sarah tried to get her baby girl’s attention. When that didn’t seem to be working, the women in the pink robe planted a kiss on Kayla’s cheek. When she felt the soft lips of mommy on her cheek, Kayla snapped out of her daydream and gave her girlfriend a kiss right back. “There you are baby, I thought I had lost you” she joked. “I’m gonna take off your sleeper so it doesn’t get in the way during your dipey change” as Sarah was telling her little one the plan, she had already gotten the pink garment off of her slim frame. With Kayla’s small 5”1’ frame, she often looked younger than she really was. Right now, with the pacifier her mommy unhooked from the sleeper in her mouth and the swollen diaper drooping between her legs, that was more true than ever before. “You are just the prettiest baby girl a mommy could possibly ask for” Sarah told the little girl in front of her. She could not mean that statement more if she tried. They have been best friends ever since elementary school. They went to the same high school, they roomed together in college. They even were roommates in the first apartment after college. Sarah still remembered the day Kayla revealed this side of herself: Kayla was shaking like a leaf all day. Once she was finally able to sit down and have a conversation with her best friend, it was like he words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. After plenty of phrases like “your gonna think I’m weird” and “You know, it’s not even a big deal”, Sarah was finally able to coax it out of her. “Well…” was all the Kayla could muster at first. After a couple of deep breathes, she was able to let a little bit more out. “Sarah...I like to...in my spare time...act younger than I am” was the only way she could phrase it. “That’s what you were worried about? That is no big deal at all. Everyone acts younger than they are” Sarah joked, not sure why that was so hard for her friend. “No…” Kayla stumbled, knowing she didn’t phrase it right “I mean...much younger...like a…” She took a deep breath and exhaled. She felt like she was Bruce Wayne about to tell the world she was Batman. “A baby” the words left Kayla’s mouth and she felt like she was going to have a heart attack. All she could do was wait for Sarah’s response. “Oh ok” she responded, confused but not wanting to show it and hurt Kayla’s feeling. “What do you mean exactly?” Oh god, she wanted specifics? “Well, I like to do things that a baby would do. Play with baby toys...drink from a bottle...use a pacifier. You know, stuff like that” she told her, surely, confused friend. She made sure to leave out the biggest piece unless absolutely necessary. Imagining Kayla drinking from a bottle produced a smile on Sarah’s face. “Oh, I understand. So, instead of hanging out with old friends or watching some TV shows from your childhood, you just substitute that with a bottle and a pacifier?” Sarah was starting to understand. “Exactly. Before we get any further, I want to make one thing perfectly clear: this has nothing to do with actual children. I want to BE a child, not be with a child. Most people immediately think of us as pedophiles and that couldn’t be further from the truth.” Kayla needed that to be known. OK, that was going to be my next question. I’m really relieved to hear that. So, you said you like to act like a baby. Does that also involve wearing diapers?” Sarah asked bluntly. The word “diaper” hit Kayla’s ears like a sonic boom. Her already blushing face grew another shade of red as she slowly nodded. “Um...yeah…” was all she could muster. “Do you...use...them?” her friend asked, wanting to get as much information as possible. “Only number one” Kayla responded. She couldn’t believe she was spilling her guts on the subject she kept most private. After the diaper conversation started, it felt like things went smoothly through the rest of the talk. Sarah actually become interested in this lifestyle and wanted to learn as much as she could from her best friend. They talked for the rest of the day about bottles, diapers, and caregivers. The conversation had taken their friendship to another level. “Let’s get that droopy tushy of yours up on the changing table” Sarah cooed, knocking Kayla back to reality, as she tapped the plastic covering on the pad of the changing table. Her heart could have melted as she saw her little girl waddling towards her, a massive smile visible behind the shield of her pacifier.

Repost of an old story of mine. A DIAPERED DECISION by Cute Kitten The panty was peach silk decorated with sprawling, thin grey branches and reddish-pink cherry blossoms, looking like it was made from the silken scraps of a Japanese kimono. Iris fingered the smooth, expensive material as she brought it closer to the scissors in her other hand. Her slim fingers pulled the scissors open and slid the dainty cloth between the metal. "This is really it. No going back. I want this." She froze before she could cut the panty. The panty, no longer her panty. "Not mine. Not anymore." She rubbed the silk some more. They felt like a stranger's panties, not her own. So thin, so substantial. No protection whatsoever. She needed protection now. The thick, absorbent padding swaddling her crotch had all the comfort of an old friend. She had, in a way, always needed diapers- emotionally at least, had always been drawn to them. From a child who used to steal towels out of the bathroom cupboard and shoved them down her pants to a young college woman who bought crappy, cheap grocery store diapers and smuggled them into her dorm. Her love of diapers had always been with her. The older she got, the more she wore them and the more a part of her life they became, a source of psychological comfort that helped her cope better with the stress in her life. Now a college graduate with the first job in her career and first apartment all to herself, she had taken a hard, long look at her life before making a major decision. Iris lowered the scissors from the panty and ran her fingers over the smooth plastic shell of her thick diaper. The crotch was warm with fresh urine. It felt right and natural. This was who she was, who she had always been- a girl who wanted, needed diapers. Panties felt awkward and wrong to her. Always had, so she made the decision to do something about it, to right that wrong. Warm wetness trickled into her already wet diaper and spread around her crotch. "No regrets." She smiled to herself. Diapers were her underwear, a portable potty strapped to her waist 24/7. She had turned her psychological need physical. She no longer wanted to wear diapers; she had to wear them, or she would end up with wet pants. For the last several months, Iris had been diaper training herself. It was not a decision made lightly. She knew what the consequences, both good and bad, were. But it felt so right, so complete, that she did not care. She'd deal with whatever the results were from something that helped her be more comfortable with herself. Diaper training was not easy. Diapers, especially the premium ones she ordered online, were not cheap. She had to keep herself shaved to fight odor and guard against rashes. She had to learn to listen to her body, struggle to keep her sphincter muscles relaxed, to just go whenever she felt the need, no matter her diapered or undiapered state or what she was doing. She had had to train herself to wet her diaper, getting comfortable in all positions and situations, even embarrassing ones. If her diaper was saturated to the point of leaking, she still had to wet, leaks in public be damned. The more she kept at it, the easier it got as she fought to undo her potty training. Iris had reached the point in her diaper training journey where she was now dependent on diapers. She only realized she was wetting once she started to go and felt the thick, absorbent material grow warm and wet as she peed herself like a baby. Peeing took her by surprise and her bladder capacity had shrunk. "When was the last time I even sat on a toilet? Or wore these?" Iris fingered the panties with one hand and rubbed her diaper with the other. She couldn't even remember the last time the skin of her derriere plunked down on the cold porcelain of a toilet. Now, that almost seemed unnatural. Her diapers had truly become a part of her. She should cut up the panties she hadn't worn in months to symbolize her determination to stay diapered. She stared down at the scissors laying at her side, then to the panties she still held. She put her feet through the leg holes, standing up then pulling the panties up over her legs. Her diaper crinkled as she moved. The bulky padding forced her legs apart. The silk of the panty stretched wide once it encountered the bulge of the diaper and her spread hips. She tugged the tiny panty up into place with a grunt. A small but noisy fart slipped out of her and she wondered if she was going to mess herself. Iris paused in her pulling to rub her stomach. She didn't feel like a bowel movement was imminent. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip, chewing as she poked at her crinkly, padded backside. Still nice and dry, not wet or messy yet, though she knew soon enough that would change- that was just part of the new life she had chosen. She went back to tugging on the panties, compelled to put them on over her diaper. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to them, not just yet. She knew she should let go of them; she could never wear them. It was diapers and diapers only for her, yet a small part of her latched o to those panties and she could not figure out why. With another grunt and another fart, she yanked the panty into place over her bulging diaper and felt a small trickle of warmth spurt out as she stood fully up. She had paid quite a bit of money for the panties from some designer lingerie boutique. They were itty bitty hip huggers. Hardly anything to them; they barely fit over the bottom part of her enormous and monstrously thick diaper. Iris caught sight of herself in the full length bedroom mirror and giggled. "I look ridiculous." She stared down at the length of thick white padding bulging out of the tiny silk. Any normal woman would have felt ridiculous in the diaper, but Iris felt ludicrous in the panty. She ran her hands over the strange combination covering her private parts. The panty was soft and slick under her fingertips as she rubbed her crotch then her hand glided up. The diaper's plastic crinkled underneath her touch, calling to her. Her fingers skimmed over the smooth plastic, all the way up her belly until they hit into the rough tabs. She tapped the tabs, smiling down at her diaper and felt yet another tiny spurt of pee, as if her bladder was subconsciously affirming her choice. It seemed to dribble constantly so she was rarely dry anymore. She patted her wet diaper then shimmied the stretched-out panty off her slim legs and huge diaper. As she moved, the diaper crinkled loudly. Her heavily diaper-cream coated cheeks slid against each other and felt almost as if she'd messed herself. Iris stared down at the panty. "You aren't for me anymore, but you're still too pretty to cut." She knew she should cut up her drawer full of panties, to fully mentally commit to her diaper training, but try as she might, she just could not bring herself destroy them. They were from her old life, and she could no longer wear them….but they were like pretty souvenirs from a trip. She had willingly and happily moved to Diaper Island, but she still wanted a few mementos from her sojourn in Potty Land. She had already cleaned out her closet, getting rid of clothes that would no longer fit over her huge diapers. It was one of the first things she had done when she decided to make diapers her new underwear permanently. Her short shorts that easily showed off her diaper bulge, or skirts and dresses that were so short they showed off her diaper, all had gone to resale shops and charity. Gone too were her comfortable yet tight yoga pants, which showed off her butt in all its excessively padded glory. She had gone shopping for new, diaper-concealing pants, shorts, and dresses. All of which was also, inadvertently, more modest. "This was a waste of time." She shrugged and tossed the panty back into the cardboard box with her other panties. She saw no reason to cut them up- she was already committed to her diapered life. The wet diaper around her waist, the diaper cream and tons of sweet smelling baby powder were evidence enough of that. She put the lid back on the box and shoved it back under her bed, where she had placed it months ago when she started her diaper training. Then, she had tried to cut her old panties up and had not been able to do it. She hadn't been completely sure she would stick with her un-potty training and still had panties as a choice, wanted them as a safety net and back up plan. She had tried numerous times after that as her bladder grew weaker and weaker and she needed her diapers more and more. Now….Iris patted the front of her wet diaper. Now, she had no choice. Her old underwear were just pretty momentos. She had no regrets. The phone rang and she waddled off to answer it, thick diaper crinkling noisily all the way, the new soundtrack of her diapered life.

Hey you beautiful people ❤️. I've been gone for a bit, but now I'm back and here with a story that I hope you'll like. I started two in the past but they both got swallowed up, I guess! This one has kind of a sad beginning, I think, but I hope you'll really like it. It began as a kind of homage to a recent movie I liked quite a bit, I wonder if you can guess which one! WELL-FITTED ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter I: An Important Man Renard Wellfit was an important man. He employed thousands of people, and his products were sold across the world. People's livelihoods depended on him -- and not just employees and family members, but people who had never even met him, people who couldn't tell you him first name. Every aspect of his life he approached with an identical level of attentiveness and care, as he saw it all as equally important – his job, his family, his private life, all of it. In fact, to separate those three aspects – the job, the family, the private life – provides a misleading picture of his life. All were interconnected. And everything other aspect of life sprang originally from the job. He was tied to the job since before birth, it was in his family. His father was an Englishman who moved to the U.S. as a young man, and the founder of the Wellfit Company. The Wellfit Company made a number of products aimed at babies and small children. By the time of the 21st century, their products included rash creams and body washes, shampoos and conditioners, pacifiers and teethers, bibs and wipes, and all manner of bodysuits, rompers, and bootees. And then there were diapers. Diapers were the Wellfit Company’s raison d’etre. They began making them in the early 1970s, when Pampers (and soon Huggies) began making the first mass produced disposable diapers. Wellfit Senior, then a junior executive for a Manhattan consumer goods firm, saw room for profit, and moved accordingly. Wellfit Diapers were never as widely sold or as popular as Huggies, Pampers, and Luvs, but they remained a solid seller nevertheless. Wellfit Senior was a more-than-capable businessman, but he was had not even an inch of a creative bone in his body. He was a blunt, unromantic man, pragmatic to the point of lacking imagination. He demanded perfection but didn’t know how to achieve aesthetic perfection except in hiring the most accomplished of artists and designers. And he had one in Renard’s mother. She was a Frenchwoman of peasant stock, from a rural farming family that couldn’t manage to tamp down her dreams of greater things. In Paris she became a model, and then a fashion designer. She lived through the age of chic, Coco Chanel, and the Swinging Sixties. At the age of 33, after fifteen years in the fashion game, she met Mr. Wellfit, an older divorced man on the verge of starting his own business, at an Upper East Side cocktail party and the two bonded quickly. They were married in 1971, the same year Pampers changed its industry forever by replacing diaper pins with tapes. Within nine months, the Wellfits were gifted with a son, whose mother chose to name “Renard” in remembrance of her French origins and in the hopes he would be as simultaneously cunning and cute as a fox. The boy was her life. Gone were the days of parties and photo shoots, modeling miniskirts, designing dresses, as the mother devoted herself totally to her baby boy, at times almost forgetting that she also had a stepdaughter, a precocious 5-year-old named Cecilia. Little Renard was her muse — when The Wellfit Company stumbled out of the gate trying to distinguish itself from the better-known Pampers, Mrs. Wellfit decided to take charge and begin designing diapers herself. She applied all the creativity and artistry she had previously reserved her dresses and lingeries, and created the design of Wellfit’s first successful diaper. She wasn’t content to just have plain, boring white diapers — she demanded color, decoration, everything that would make her baby undeniably the cutest on the block. Every design she attempted and considered she first tried out on Renard. And not just for appearance, but for delight as well. If Renard seemed uncomfortable or fussy, she throw out the design and started over until she had one he could wear with comfort, ease, and pleasure — at rest and at play. Her husband argued only one successful design was necessary, and that spending the time creating more would lead to higher costs, but when Mrs. Wellfit insisted, she insisted. Through Renard’s infancy to toddlerhood, his mother came up with new designs every few months. Wellfit Senior was right on one count — this was expensive. And the prohibitively high costs meant that Wellfits were never stocked as often as Huggies and Pampers by hospitals and daycare centers as the years went on. They were more expensive, a higher-quality diaper of an almost artisanal sort, for more discerning and well-to-do parents. But they sold well enough to keep Renard Wellfit, his sister Cecilia, and their parents in high society, with homes in England, France, and the United States. The two children were homeschooled by their mother and various hired tutors who came and went. They socialized little with other children, and Renard never developed a fondness for children, even at a young age. Their mother taught them the principles of design and craft, how to appreciate beauty and art, and how to expect it in both their life and their work. But Cecelia never developed the skills that her stepmother had, and was outshone by her younger brother whenever he had a sketch pad in his hand. At 13, Renard was sent off to an elite British boarding school, where his father hoped the quiet, sensitive boy would become “a man.” That day in late summer, when he saw the plane, the private jet flight from New York to London, that would take him away for the first time from his beloved mother, he cried. On the airport tarmac, she looked him over and through his tears he saw her move to kiss him on his forehead. "Mon petit renard," she said. "Everything will be alright." And punctuated those words with her kiss. He hated boarding school. He hated the stifling, uncreative atmosphere, where he had to spend so much time on Latin and calculus he could hardly find time for his sketches. He hated the forced sociability, all those boys with their strutting macho power games and hierarchal cliques. And he hated not being able to see his mother, and that she couldn't see him. When Thanksgiving came around, Renard begged his headmaster to let him go home, to be with his family. But the headmaster simply tut-tutted and told the young boy that he would not be giving him time off for an American holiday of all things. Renard sighed and accepted his fate, knowing he could at least count the days 'til Christmas holiday. But that December, with his first term at school over, when his plane landed at New York, he was met not by his mother, as he expected, but only by his father, dressed all in black. ****** Almost nine years after they buried his mother, Renard graduated from design school and took his first job at the Wellfit Company. Within a year, he was creative director, one of the youngest in the world. But after all, he was a natural, and born into it. And after a few more years, when Wellfit Senior finally succumbed to the high blood pressure that had plagued him his whole adulthood, he became primary stockholder and Chairman of the Board of the Wellfit Company. But he was never suited for business leadership, truth be told -- the boardroom meetings, discussion of IPOs, mergers and acquisitions, they all bored him. It was the craft he cared about, the product, particularly the diapers. He left the running of the stocks and the accounts to the lawyers and the MBAs while he focused on what his mother taught him: passion for your art. He kept up her commitment to producing new designs every few months, splitting his time between the corporate office, the Manhattan penthouse apartment he called home, and his cottage in the countryside, where he could go for quiet reflection. Cecilia shared the apartment with him, and kept his affairs in order, calling the office when he felt too ill or bored to come in, handling job-seekers and the occasional finance reporter, making sure everything got paid and stayed running. They had lived this way for 25 years. By now he had grown into a tall, handsome man. Despite his love of large meals, his fast metabolism (inherited from his mother) and his penchant for swimming had kept him trim, with long limbs that draped over the furniture as he rested. His hair was once dark, but had begun its transformation into silver. He combed it every morning in the same way, and used a pomade to make it stay the way he wanted. His face was unlined, unweathered. There was something oddly ageless about him. He looked neither young nor old exactly, but like a Roman coin dug up from an archaeological site -- at once ancient and new. He dressed immaculately -- never leaving the house without perfectly crafting his appearance for the day, and in chilly weather usually accompanied by a fashionable scarf. There was never a stain nor a speck of lint on his clothes. His voice was a quiet baritone, with the traces of his British father's accent clinging stubbornly to his natural American one. One day, while performing his ritual combing of the hair, he remembered that the next January he would turn 47. It was the same age his mother was when she said goodbye to him for the last time.

Ali

Myrtle, an 18 year old high school student, had just been suspended for doing drugs. Her parents, at the recommendation of a friend, have sent Myrtle to a week long rehabilitation program. She has no idea what she's in for. She knocks on the door of a large house.

Hi everyone I’m a 21 year old girl and I’ve known my boyfriend for a little over a year. I’m very much a diaper girl. I love the feeling of diapers, I love wearing them, but I’m also really into age play and humilation. My boyfriend has admitted that he likes to baby me which made me really excited. We already experiment with a bit of dominant/submissive power dynamics but I really want him to force me into a diaper and force me to wear diapers around him and even wear and use them when we go out. I love the idea of him forcing me to use my diapers, punishing with spankings when I refuse, and even exposing me a little in public. He already calls me his baby girl, but I really want to take this to the next level. Help please! <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a historical fiction set in 1940's Germany. That means Nazi Germany. This is the story of two girls who were best friends when they were little. Now that they're 18, they're reunited. One of them grew up with Nazi propoganda pounded into her head. She wrestles with her morality- that which she senses, knows deep down, is right- and an internal battle with all the brainwashing she's undergone. Let me be crystal clear- the Nazis were bad. They were scum. The main character in this story has to dig through propoganda and lies to learn that truth we know today. FROEHLICHE WEIHNACHTEN by CK- Cute Kitten The soft layers of the cloth diaper rubbed over the sensitive mound of her womanhood with each step. The press of the padding tingled along her nerves, radiating waves of comfort in the quiet dark of night. The hem of her red nightgown swished around her ankles while the lace collar, cuffs, and hem shone like fresh snow in the dim yellow glow of the kerosene lamp. Her thick woolen socks made no sound on the wooden floors of the old farmhouse. Gertrude carefully opened the doors between various rooms, trying to keep squeaky hinges silent. She tiptoed over the squeaky floorboards as she slunk through the house on Christmas Eve. Snitching a few Christmas cookies was an old childhood tradition between her and her twin sister. The only thing that slowed her annual Christmas Eve sojourn was the diaper. Even a single cloth diaper forced her thighs apart, making her waddle. The thickness slowed her gait down. Just one layer, just one diaper, yet it felt like she wore several pairs of thick woolen underwear. How had her sister Heidi tolerated such a bulky undergarment? In bed on a cold night, a diaper was comforting. But up and ambulating around, the warm bulk just got in her way. Heidi never had a choice about wearing and using diapers; she’d been incontinent all eighteen years of her short life. Heidi had been born with deformed, twisted limbs. She was never able to talk or know when she had to go to the bathroom. Incontinent cripple. The doctors at the hospital had called her condition cerebral palsy. The family had called it a curse, an embarrassment. Back when Gertrude was was a little girl, she only brought one friend inside to meet her sister. Her best friend, Magda the little Jewish girl. Heidi was kept hidden away, a shameful family secret. Heidi never went to school. The doctors and family both knew she was incapable of learning. Gertrude tried to teach her what she learned in school, anyway. Heidi was never able to talk, but she learned to read. Heidi and Gertrude even proved it to their parents. The doctors refused to believe it, chalking it up to wishful thinking. Gertrude slipped into the spacious living room. The diaper pressed against her privates. It was dry; she had no intention of actually using it. She only wore them to feel closer to her dead twin. Heidi had been gone for a year, but the would of her passing was still fresh in Gertrude’s heart. Heidi had been her best friend and confidant, even if she could only grunt and drool. Gertrude learned to interpret those grunts until they became a language all their own. The cold living room seemed larger since it was empty. Her grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles were all upstairs, asleep. Her father had cleaned out the fireplace earlier and filled it with fresh logs for Christmas morning. Hand knitted stockings hung from the mantle, lumpy with little gifts. The war had tightened purse strings all across the Reich, but out here in the country they didn’t feel the bite as hard as the city folk. The gifts weren’t much; just small luxuries to sweeten hard times. Some candy, apples, oranges. Scented bar soaps and body powder for the ladies. A new hairbrush to replace an old, broken one. Her grandparents were full of old stories mourning the lost glory of the German Empire and life under the kaiser. Her father and uncles had all fought during the Great World War. They had suffered under the economic hardships steered by the inept Weimar Republic government and raped by the even harder penalties of the Versailles Treaty. Gertrude didn’t pay much attention to politics or what was going on in the wider world. There was too much work to do on the farm, more important things in her immediate life to worry about. What little she knew, she gleaned from the grumblings of the menfolk, particularly when they were soused with drink. The cold emptiness of the room pressed in on her. The magic of Christmas, that most wonderful time of the year, was as chill and dark as the unlit fireplace. Gertrude was the only girl in her family. All ten of her cousins were boys. Nine of them were away from home on the front lines fighting the enemy. Josef was the only one home on special leave. He wasn’t a regular Waffen SS soldier like the others. He was a member of the SS Totenkopfverbande. She wasn’t sure exactly what they did. Josef refused to talk about it, but their domineering grandmother pestered him into dolling out a few crumbs. At dinner, he’d mumbled something about guarding a camp. After a few glasses of grandma’s homemade gluhwein, he’d let slip some slurred gibberish about a place called Buchenwald. The absence of her cousins, the absence of her twin, left Gertrude feeling alone. Up in her little cramped closet of a room she’d once shared with her twin, the lonely isolation had pressed in on her. She hadn’t been able to sleep, even with the comfort of Heidi’s diapers. Memories and shadows of her dead sister filled every nook and cranny of the room and pinched her heart. So she’d fled downstairs, hoping that keeping their old tradition alive would help her feel less alone. That it would bring back some small part of her sister. The diaper shifted and rubbed against her with every step across the living room. It was a constant reminder of her twin. Usually the warm softness of the thick padding reassured her. Now it only heightened the ache of Heidi’s absence. This wasn’t the first time Gertrude wore Heidi’s diapers. She’d been wearing them to bed every night since her sister’s funeral. The first time she donned a diaper was the night they scattered Heidi’s ashes in their grandmother’s rose garden. Heidi used to love staring out the window for hours at the summer roses, watching the bees and butterflies. The night of the funeral, Gertrude had wallowed in the dregs of grief, out of her mind with mourning. So she pulled out one of Heidi’s clean cloth diapers and put it on. Immediately, the press of the thick bulk between her legs had calmed her, reassured her. Heidi was gone from the earth, but she was still with Gertrude in her heart. From that night on, Gertrude wore her dead sister’s diapers to bed. Tonight was Gertrude’s first time getting out of bed and walking through the house in diapers. The padding that usually comforted her now unnerved her. What if she got caught in a diaper? They’d say she’d gone crazy with grief. They’d lock her up in the loony bin. She should’ve taken the diaper off before leaving the bedroom. She’d tried, but her fingers refused to open the diaper pins. She couldn’t bring herself to do it- it made her feel like she was leaving Heidi behind. Casting her sister aside by taking off the diaper. Gertrude shuddered at those thoughts, cold from the inside out. The lantern swayed on the thin wire loop handle in her hand. The soft, swaying light danced on the tin ornaments with their shiny, metallic paint. The candles on the Christmas tree were snuffed out for the night; they’d be relit Christmas morning, along with the yule logs in the fireplace. Most of the ornaments were wood, hand carved by her grandfather, father and uncles when they were boys. Some were knitted from yarn, made by her grandmother and aunts. The ones that drew the most attention were shiny, metallic tin disks proudly displaying thick black swastikas. Her uncle had bought them a few years ago on a trip into the city. He’d wanted to put a big swastika on top of the tree, but grandma refused. She wanted her beloved, tacky, stained glass and lead star instead. Lumpy presents in cheap brown paper lay under the tree. Everybody knew what they were- new hand knitted sweaters or cardigans. Smaller packages were mittens, scarves, gloves. Everyone was grateful, too- the ones from last year were falling apart after months of hard living and working. A hard life made harder with the extra burden of caring for her disabled sister. She’d left Heidi behind once before, when the family moved her into a sanatorium several years ago. Taking care of her disabled sister had become too much of a burden on top of all the farm work, especially as the boys grew up and left the village for adventure and glory in the Wehrmacht. She had missed her sister, but the work-exhausted part of her had been relieved to be free of the extra duties. That relief pricked her conscience now with a sharp slivers of guilt. She rarely had the free time and funds to visit her sister. The home for the physically disabled was in a town several days’ travel from their tiny village. The family received a letter from the sanatorium doctors saying Heidi’s condition had grown more severe, so they’d transferred her to Hadamar psychiatric hospital, which was even further away, for more intense treatment. A few months later, the family received a letter from Hadamar doctors informing them of Heidi’s demise. Gertrude’s insides had twisted in doubt and disbelief when she’d read the death certificate. The cause of death listed acute appendicitis. Heidi had had her appendix removed as a small child. How could she die from an organ that was long gone from her body? The rest of her family insisted it must be a mistake, a mix up. Gertrude had travelled with her father to claim Heidi’s remains and get the death certificate fixed. In the Hadamar waiting room, Gertrude had talked to other grieving families there to claim their loved ones’ remains. So many dead patients. They dropped like flies. Was that normal? Doctors assured her it was. The mentally and physically disabled were of weak, inferior blood. They didn’t live very long. It was tragic. Gertrude had the doctors’ sympathies. But, really, they had assured her, it was for the best. One irate man was there to demand an explanation for the burnt ladies’ hairpins in his dead brother’s ashes. The man’s brother had died of appendicitis, too. Quite a few patients had died from that. There were a lot of death certificate mix-ups, and ladies’ hairpins in male ashes. Way too many mixups. It roused Gertrude’s suspicions. Gertrude’s family swallowed the doctors’ lines. Gertrude didn’t, but every time she voiced her doubts, she was shushed or ignored. The doctors’ told the family it was just her grief talking and not to take her seriously. So she held her tongue, bend her head, and kept working. Put in more hours doing charity work with the Bund Deutscher Madel, or League of German Girls. She could never shake the notion that she’d abandoned her sister to cold blooded killers who couldn’t even keep the remains of their victims straight. Life unworthy of life. She remembered learning about that in school. She’d read magazine and newspaper articles by prominent doctors promoting the idea. Useless eaters. The disabled couldn’t contribute to society. They only took. Times were hard. Sometimes, to save a healthy body, diseased limbs had to be cut off. There was no room for diseased, useless leeches full of nothing but bad blood. They were nothing but a burden on society, weighing it down. Wasn’t Gertrude’s own sense of relief to be free of her caretaker duties proof of that? Staring at the cold fireplace, Gertrude blinked back tears. The guilt ridden ache for her sister burned stronger. She forced her mind back to happier times. Normally, she’d have been to the kitchen and back upstairs by now with iced ginger cookies or sweet, sugar dusted fruit bread for her and Heidi. Gertrude focused on the soft padding rubbing against her crotch and backside as she walked. The sensations distracted her from dark memories. Moving in the diaper was both weird and soothing at the same time, like a beloved Christmas carol sung in a foreign language. The diaper added an extra layer of warmth in the drafty old house. The heavy cotton of her nightgown and thick wool of her hand knitted socks kept her warm enough, but the diaper added the last layer that made her cozy. Sometimes, she wondered what the diaper would feel like wet. She blushed at the thought. Once in a blue moon, when the pain of her sister’s absence was particularly sharp, she felt the urge to add on more diapers and rubber panties then let her bladder loose. Fear and disgust always held her back. How could she even think such a thing? Maybe she really was going crazy. Trying to flee from her thoughts, shut down her overactive brain, Gertrude hurried into the kitchen.