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Kirsty knew all about blowouts. Anybody with small children knew. It wasn't something anybody was ever taught, you learned about them the hard way. A blowout wouldn't happen while a child was safely tucked away in a cot, secure, within easy reach of a change of clothes, a washing machine, a clean diaper. No, blowouts happened in public, when it was least convenient, the child in ignorant bliss of the horror it had just caused. The weird thing was that friends didn't realise the problem. "Oh dear, someone needs Mommy," they'd declare, confident that Mommy could cope, would quickly and efficiently return the gorgeous tot to full cuteness. It was the parent that had to deal with the mess, the way the explosion had shot up out of the back of the diaper, somehow leaked at the legs, ruined the tights, the diaper shirt, the pretty dress. Experienced parents knew to take a change of clothing, as well clean diapers. The cafe, the village hall, the doctor's waiting room; they were someone else's problem, they had staff to clean them. Kirsty had raised three children and they had all been her problem, their comfort and cleanliness something she had to provide, and even if they didn't know what they'd done, she did, and she had to deal with it. So when someone else was the parent, Kirsty reflected that she should at the minimum not be dismayed. It wasn't her problem, she wouldn't have to replace the soiled clothing, gently wipe the skin, pretend this was a normal run of the mill diaper change. Unfortunately she felt only distress, the realisation that this was a full blowout, and that the Mommy hadn't even noticed. "Ewwww," she said, "That's smelly!" It was a white lie. The food was somehow treated; extra bulk, less smell, same awful stickiness. In a way it helped, made filling a diaper a more private function, fewer people sniffing loudly and declaring, "Oh dear, someone needs Mommy." Alice turned and looked at Kirsty. "Oh dear," she said sympathetically, "Does someone need Mommy?" Kirsty groaned. No shit someone needed 'Mommy'. She knew better than to say that, three different punishments would come from that single retort. Instead she forced a smile to join the frown on her face, looked up at Alice and provided a carefully neutral reply, "Mommy..." Alice did that adult thing of pausing to change expression, going for the sympathetic look in an obvious 'I'd better show sympathy' way. She turned back to her friend Julie, begged forgiveness for a moment and walked over to where Kirsty was strapped immobile in a push chair. Undoing the straps long enough to lean Kirsty forward, she flipped up the back of the short dress and immediately wrinkled her nose. "Holy mother of.." she exclaimed, before her voice trailed off. She looked across to Julie and called out, "You would not believe this! It's a full scale blowout. We're going to have to find a bathroom." Kirsty knew all about blowouts. She hadn't expected to suffer one, be the subject of that humiliating call across the park, see her friend Tracey look across in horror. Tracey knew all about blowouts too, and had never even had children. Sometimes people learn about them the very hard way. Carefully standing up Tracey started to waddle towards Kirsty. The look of sympathy on her face was genuine, and Kirsty knew she wanted to provide comfort and commiserations. She just didn't want them, was embarrassed enough already, just wanted to get clean. "Tracey! Come back here." demanded Julie. Tracey stopped, looked at Kirsty in consternation, clearly torn between friendship and the fear of disobedience. Friendship doesn't come with punishments though so when she turned and unsteadily made her way back to Julie, Kirsty silently shared thanks. The world turned around her, and Kirsty could no longer see her friend. Alice had wheeled her around and was pushing her determinedly up the path. "Come on Sweetie," she said, "Lets get you clean and beautiful again." Kirsty knew all about beautiful too. This wasn't something she had ever claimed, and although the occasional unguarded look on Alice's face showed genuine affection and the love of a mother, she couldn't believe a thick diaper and pigtails made her beautiful now. Sure, the portal had changed her body, the tired lines and stretch marks of a well used body in its forties gone, replaced by a beach ready body that looked - and felt - in its late teens. Her new body's lithe youthfulness was spoiled by poor muscle definition and wide, broad hips, which she'd decided were worth the chance to feel young again, but she was being treated as even younger, nearer 18 months than 18 years. But beautiful? No. Not with the freckles she'd somehow acquired, even if they did help her face match the outfits she was forced to wear. "Why the frown, gorgeous?" asked Alice. "You're much prettier when you smile, it really lights up your eyes. Julie says she loves your face when you smile, the dimples and freckles make you just adorable." Kirsty had heard this before, so many times she'd lost count. She'd lost count of many things, repeated humiliations, public embarrassments and private mortification. Her memory was good, mentally she was in surprisingly good health, adapting well to what had once been so strange a situation. She didn't seem to be aging here, her body retaining its youthful elegance, no matter how many years passed, the promise of the advertisement kept, and that promise extended to her brain, keeping her sharp and aware. Sadly aware. The advert hadn't mentioned that her young body would not be under her control, that forced adoption by someone claiming to be her new Mommy was inevitable, that her perpetual youth would be lived in perpetual babyhood. Yes, she was aware of that. A good memory still loses track of the prosaic, the things each day holds, the forced feedings, the mornings trapped in a playpen and the afternoon naps. Even the changing of a diaper becomes mundane, an uncomfortable embarrassment replaced by another, a temporary respite from dismal damp. "Here we are," gushed Alice, pointlessly telling her charge they'd reached the bathroom. Kirsty knew this building, knew the flap inside that folded down from the wall, knew she fit easily onto it and that she couldn't undo the strap that would hold her in place. She'd lost count of the diaper changes even just here, the trips to the park seldom short enough for her to stay clean throughout. Kirsty wasn't incontinent. At least, she hadn't been. Giving birth had weakened her control but she had still had it, just the occasional emergency dash to the nearest toilet. Coming through the portal fixed even that, and for a few hours she'd revelled in the choice she had to delay those bathroom breaks, no longer hostage to the nearest facilities. It was a naive joy, replaced by a permanent delay. She couldn't remember the last time she'd used a toilet, never needed the facilities. She didn't know if she had control any more, after days, weeks and months of only using a diaper the body stops worrying about such an irrelevance. Strapped to the padded shelf Kirsty looked up and reached out to Alice. She hated playing the cutesy toddler but it made Alice happy, and a happy Alice treated her much better. "No Darling," apologised Alice, "Mommy has to get you clean first. We can cuddle afterwards." Kirsty lowered her arms again, her simple point made, and really she was glad Alice had that priority. The park path wasn't smooth and every bump, every little jolt had transmitted through the pushchair into her diaper, reminding her its revolting contents, spreading it further. Her unwelcome, repetitious and intimate familiarity with being soiled had inured her somewhat to the situation but she still hated it, wanted it gone. She felt the diaper shirt being unfastened between her legs, her tights pulled down, then her shoes being removed and the tights taken off completely. "Oh my," sighed Alice, "you can't wear those again." She pulled out a small plastic bag, normally used for dirty diapers, and put the filthy clothing in it. She unstrapped Kirsty, lifted her up and stripped the dress and onesie off her. Kirsty stood there, wearing just a heavy diaper and pale blue ribbons, in her hair. She watched Alice examine the clothing, saw for herself the horrible state of her onesie, prayed it wouldn't be put back on her. Alice fortunately reached the same conclusion, thrust it into the same bag containing the tights. "Even your dress is dirty, but it's just a small patch by the hem. I'll wash that down Sweetie, or you'll have to go home in just your diaper." Kirsty knew better than to comment on her clothing, but allowed a quiet smile to show her satisfaction with the compromise. The day was warm and, while she was permanently in diapers, and she knew that in the pushchair her dress would ride up and reveal her shame to passers-by, she still wanted it on, even the smallest concession to covering her diaper was worthwhile. But first, she wanted a clean diaper. "What's wrong Kirsty?" begged Alice, obvious concern lining her face. Kirsty realised with horror that she'd let her true feelings show in her facial expression, right as she'd been mentally berating herself for falling into the mental trap of wanting a diaper, rather than just wanting to be taken out of this dirty one. Kirsty recovered fast. She'd learned well, knew how important it was to keep Alice on her side, knew the buttons to push. "Sticky!" she sniffed, concentrating on not saying any more than that, and especially not asking to be changed. Alice melted a little, reached forward and gave Kirsty a quick hug around the shoulders. "Awww, you poor thing," she acknowledged, "Lets get you out of that horrible diaper." For once the pair shared a moment, full uninamity, all guile and pretence unnecessary as they looked at each other in agreement. A swift change, Alice well practiced, soft wipes quickly leaving Kirsty's skin smooth and pristine, a light dusting of powder and clean padding, firmly fastened, securely sealing Kirsty into a gently scented leakproof prison that she knew would soon be a torment once more. "There," celebrated Alice, pulling Kirsty's dress back on and giving her the promised hug, "all clean and beautiful." Sure, thought Kirsty. Until the next time. She knew there'd be a next time, it was inevitable, unavoidable, one of the few certainties in her new life. Yes, Kirsty knew all about blowouts.

Taming Your Amazon or How to Survive and Thrive When Little : A Pamphlet from the Little Liberation Front Foreword This publication is targeted at Littles entering or already within an asymmetric relationship with one or more Amazons. Although ending the relationship is frequently the primary goal in such a situation this is seldom achievable without substantial effort and elapsed time. Through understanding and adopting approaches from this guidance, a Little can minimise their chances of forced regression, entering an orphanage or undergoing irreversible physical or mental deterioration. Chapter 1 : Understanding Your Amazon Congratulations! You are now the proud beneficiary of your very own Amazon who, with the right treatment, can provide you with years of entertainment, security and emotional support. Rule One : Your Amazon Loves You In almost all cases it is a female Amazon that adopts a Little [1], and we will assume you have acquired a typical female. She will be genetically incapable of caring for a Little without falling in love, and very likely lost all emotional control even before you became family. This love will guide almost all of her actions, even the ones that cause (or that you feel cause) you harm. Understanding this is key to manipulating those actions and minimising perceived or actual harm. Your safety and happiness do actually matter to her, and these are levers you can use to your own benefit; subsequent chapters explore specific scenarios in which this can occur. Even more powerful though is that your Amazon will love you even more, and be far more amenable to your needs and desires, if she feels that love is reciprocal. This should thus always be an immediate target, with vestiges of love - fake or otherwise - demonstrated within the first few days and a close loving relationship rapidly built. Case Study 1-Negative: Charlotte was captured in her mid-20s by a middle-aged Amazon couple and understandably hated her loss of autonomy and freedom. When the couple thought they were being kind by helping Lotty into diapers, pretty dresses and a comfy crib, she rebelled against them with constant screaming and physical resistance. Obviously this led to punishment diapers, hypnotic loss of continence, almost permanent pacifier use and a strained relationship with her couple. Sadly things broke down from there and after several weeks of increased detachment due to being put in daycare the Amazon couple conceded things weren't working and contacted their local orphanage. Charlotte was lost to the system. Case Study 1-Positive: Aiden got picked up before even applying to university but took a pragmatic view of his new family. He did his best to adapt to the life his Amazon wanted him to lead and quickly found ways that made her happy. This in turn assured her that he was perfect for her as he was, and although Aidy had to endure several years of being babied he eventually contacted the LLF and was able to regain his freedom. Aiden is already progressing well on his toilet training and now only wears diapers at night. As Aiden's case study demonstrates, knowing the individual drivers and goals of your Amazon can help tremendously in building rapport and surviving the early phases of a relationship. As with Littles, Amazons are very different individuals and will vary in how much time they want to spend having a cuddle, playing with their Little, pursuing their career and continuing the other elements of their life (career, social life, hobbies, etc). Rule Two : Be Her Baby Almost all relationships start with at least a week of full-time care, which is a great opportunity to learn about your Amazon and find out what she likes. The common element to all relationships though is that your Amazon will have entered it because she wants a baby. Be that baby for her. This will be challenging for you in many ways. There is the basic difficulty of acting like a baby, especially when adult impulses and responses drive you to different behaviour, but more fundamental is the apparent loss of identity. You are now her baby, with the name she gives you, and your Amazon will love you more if she feels you accept this. This doesn't change who you are. You haven't actually lost your identity, and do fiercely remember it inside. But do keep it inside, make her believe that you embrace her and the new family, and respond to your new name. Along with this, she will want you to call her Mommy. This is an area in which you can show some individuality, but only by picking your favourite from Mommy, Mama, Momma or another suitable term that indicates a mother-child relationship (or, for male Amazons, Daddy, Dada or Papa). While most Amazons (and their Littles) will prefer and be happy with Mommy many Amazons will find it endearing if you do pick a variant. Rule Two can be particularly challenging when the Little does not share a gender with the Amazon's preference for her baby. This is frequently an issue for male Littles, with baby girls considerably more popular than the adult Little gender ratio can support. Rule Two was nearly 'Act the Baby' to emphasise and reinforce that this is just an act, but instead became 'Be Her Baby' to emphasise that your act must portray you as she wants you to be. That means treating clothing styles and colours as props for your act, and if she wants you to be a baby girl, embrace the femininity of the role[2]. It is highly likely that your Amazon is more intelligent than you, but seldom sufficiently to be a barrier. She will still act and think with emotion in addition to intellect so engage her as a well-rounded person, assume she'll pick up non-verbal cues and help her learn quickly how to best satisfy her own instincts to make you safe and happy. [1] Insufficient research into male Amazon motivations means full guidance is not available at this moment in time. Most of the techniques in this pamphlet work equally well on males, although some caution may be required and the commentary on breastfeeding should be disregarded. [2] Fighting a gender mismatch is a terrible breach of Rule Two and commonly addressed through surgical alteration to bring physical characteristics into alignment with the Amazon's preferred baby gender. However if you do actually want physical reassignment, just ask! Chapter 2 : Apparel Glory in your new wardrobe! Amazons love buying new clothes for their Littles and will do their best to make you the envy of their friends. This can lead to discord, as Amazons have a distinct expectation on how a Little should be dressed. Rule Three : Never Remove Apparel You'll have to accept that frequently you're going to be put into clothing that you greatly dislike, is uncomfortable, and/or is humiliating to wear. Whether that's because you're a man being put into a lacy baby dress, or an adult woman forced into a onesie over a diaper, remember Rule Two and treat it as a prop for your act. Not to mention that sometimes it can be fun, and many Littles grow to love their pretty clothes. Avoid indicating displeasure with the clothing you've been made to wear. Instead show positivity towards the clothing you'd prefer to wear. If you like a dress or the romper suit you've been put in, pull gently at it and express your happiness with it. Rule One will lead to you getting to wear that more often, which means less time in the clothing you don't like. While shopping point at clothes and use a simple single word adjective to indicate your preference. Rule Two discourages lengthy descriptions of your aesthetic preferences but don't underestimate the power of 'yuck', 'pretty!' or 'nice' in helping your Amazon understand how to better make you happy. Your clothing will become soiled through play, mealtimes and sadly leaking diapers. It is fine to express muted distress regarding this, with a simple sad 'Dirty!' and a frown showing your displeasure without being interpreted as a tantrum. Unless explicitly told to play in a dirty situation (e.g. dropped into mudpit) do try and avoid intentionally causing soiling unless your Amazon delights in a grubby baby. One item of apparel that you will almost immediately become very intimate with will be your pacifier. There are many designs available, both aesthetically and functionally. It's important to demonstrate to your Amazon that you can be trusted to use a 'normal' pacifier as her instant escalation will be a locking one that you can't remove yourself. These can be very uncomfortable, often filling or even stretching the mouth. Rule Four : Your Pacifier is Your Friend While building your relationship your pacifier is a great way to moderate your own voice. Many Amazons think Littles should be silent, or restricted to a very limited vocabulary, so using the pacifier to limit your speech greatly aids acceptance. You can't say things that upset your Amazon if you can't talk, but the pacifier can help in other ways too. There's no actual difference between a quiet baby and the same baby with a pacifier in its mouth, but Amazons will instinctively assume the latter one is the better behaved. Chapter 4 will explore this further but making a good impression on other Amazons matters a lot, so setting their mental picture of you as well behaved is important. Beyond that, your own Amazon will think you delightful if you use a pacifier voluntarily, and will trust you much sooner as a result. Don't forget the other more obvious feature of pacifiers: They exist because they make real babies more relaxed, and quiet. That will work for you too; don't be ashamed of finding comfort in a quick suck. Case Study 2-Negative: Scarlett was a lithe athlete in her adult life and didn't adjust well to her new role. Because she was constrained so much to a crib, a high chair or a stroller she lost her muscle tone and developed a more babyish roundness. This delighted her Amazon but meant Letty was frequently dressed in unflattering romper suits or flat-chested dresses. Letty hated these and tried to remove them, causing multiple punishments that led to her spending more and more time restrained and unable to move freely. This vicious cycle means that Scarlett is miserable with her body shape and her clothing, and sadly now lacks the fitness to escape even with our help. Case Study 2-Positive: Jayden wanted to make a good impression from the start and didn't take notice of the clothes he wore. His Amazon often put a pacifier in his mouth so Jay kept it there until she removed it herself, and consciously allowed it to help him work through stressful situations. His Amazon often told him how happy she was that he was so well behaved and started to trust him even when out of the house. This has allowed Jayden to contact our network and permanently leave that relationship, although we notice he's retained and still enjoys using his pacifier. Some pacifiers will allow feeding or provision of medicine while worn. These are usually locking varieties and used situationally, so there is little choice but to accept them. The strategy here is to demonstrate that they're not needed through perceived good behaviour during those activities normally. You aren't the only person wearing apparel. Notice what your Amazon is wearing. Is she going to work, going on a date, dressed to play with you? Is that a new suit? Notice it, comment on it, compliment her. She'll appreciate it and you'll both feel a little happier. Chapter 3 : Emissions Great news! You are no longer responsible for any mess (or smell) you cause. Revel in the freedom this brings. Amazons genuinely don't think that Littles can control their own emissions. Any waste products or sickness is assumed to be beyond the conscious control of the baby (remember Rule Two) and appropriate mitigations provided. Sadly this does mean you should expect to spend most of your time in diapers. Rule Five : Use Your Diapers Here at the Little Liberation Front we have found this rule to be the most distressing for the people we're assisting, and yet it's also the one most likely to lead to at least a mild regression. Amazons worry if diapers are not constantly wet, and regularly filled, and will initially respond with food and then chemical based diuretics and laxatives. Within days though repeatedly dry diapers will inevitably lead to hypnotic or surgical adjustments that force diaper dependency, often for life. If you ever hope to have control over your body in the future, plan ahead by choosing to abandon it now. The first few days are critical, with multiple wet diapers every day causing delight in (and providing opportunities to physical bond with) your Amazon. Case Study 3-Negative: Benjamin wanted to build rapport with his Amazon and was careful to always have a wet diaper when she checked, and timed messing it for just ahead of his daily bath. He retained his bladder control by keeping his diaper dry until a check was likely then flooded it quickly in time for a change. Sadly for Bennie his Amazon caught onto the periodic nature of his wetting and messing and without him realising fitted a wetness detector. This demonstrated his retained control, something his carer found unhealthy and undesirable, and one day Bennie was taken to his local doctor. Our subsequent physical examination following Benjamin's escape shows that he'll never regain bladder or bowel control, although he can at least now choose his own diapers. Case Study 3-Positive: Evelyn kindly shared her experiences with our team even though she's declined the support and services we offer. From the outset Evie tried to relax and allow her body to wet or mess when it was ready, and has reported that this rapidly led to a loss of control. In her case her carer did not want messy diapers so she's been partially potty trained to (mostly) avoid those, but her early diaper use contributed to a strong loving bond with her new Mommy. As she is happy with her situation due to this relationship and her new family she's accepted being permanently in wet diapers. We consider this a positive outcome as although she's constantly in wet diapers it's through her own choice, and the bladder control could be regained should she ever change her mind. As Benjamin's case study shows, while it can be tempting to hold until you know you're going to be checked this may be noticed, and that ability to control yourself may itself distress your Amazon. We recommend that for the first week the use of a toilet or potty should not be even mentioned or discussed with your Amazon, to demonstrate that you're comfortable with using your diapers and do not need further 'encouragement'. If (as in Evie's case) your Amazon is amenable to potty training then this can be discussed once the relationship has reached greater trust, but also assume you'll always be in diapers at least some of the time. This will be discussed further under Rule Six, but never use words to complain about your diapers. Crying to indicate an uncomfortable diaper tends to be ok, and after the first week most Amazons will listen if you ask for a specific type of diaper (e.g. not the punishment ones) although they may not accede to the request. Complaining about the diapers, about having to wear or use them, or asking for a change almost always ends in punishment, with even the gentlest of Amazons using a pacifier to silence the complaints. Your Amazon will check or just realise that you need a change, although it can sometimes be helpful to highlight that you're about to leak. Even then, merely point out this basic fact as it's your Amazon's responsibility to either prevent or deal with a leaking diaper, and let them make that choice. If you are unfortunate enough to have an Amazon that defers changes (particularly messy diapers) then you will be at risk of diaper rash along with the discomfort. To help avoid this, train your Amazon to change you regularly by making the act of changing you enjoyable for her and demonstrating your gratitude for the clean diaper. While being grumpy is damaging a mild uplift in mood from before to after a change will be noticed by your Amazon and because of Rule One this will help train her. This should be obvious from Rule Three, but never try to remove your own diaper; not only will you likely fail but this will usually lead to restraints that can even prevent you using your hands. Other emissions[3] may be forced or inadvertent. Particularly after a liquid meal many Amazons like to burp a Little, usually holding them to their chest to do this. This is highly embarrassing, especially when the resultant burp is perhaps more liquid in nature, but again this is an issue for her to deal with, and not you. Recall Rule One and accept that she's doing this because she cares for you and feels this is good for your health and comfort, and not to humiliate you. Any other Amazon noticing will at worse think this is extremely cute, and other Littles are too used to it to try and embarrass you over it themselves. Avoid spitting on purpose - whether eating, or any other time. If you absolutely can't avoid it, hold cloth (e.g. a bib) to your mouth and mask it as a cough or sneeze. Spitting at someone breaks Rule Two and will lead to punishment - we've even heard of one poor Little losing his tongue to prevent this. Although by removing your control your Amazon has accepted the burden of coping with whatever comes out of you, from either end, we've found that a small apology when being sick (especially on an Amazon) can help defuse any undeserved anger that may be caused. Combine the apology with tears and you're on track for a cuddle and forgiveness. [3] Note that this pamphlet does not explore sexual activity or interactions; these vary too much on an individual basis Chapter 4 : Social Interactions It's playtime all the time! No working for a living means you can enjoy a very early retirement and really focus on friends and hobbies. Making friends and falling in (pretend or real) love with your Amazon is easy. Avoiding conflict with friends and family can however be a nightmare, with all the usual social challenges exacerbated by the Amazon Little divide. Going out in public is similarly fraught with dangers, some of which can not be avoided. No matter how close to your Amazon you are, the trust you share, and the freedom you have at home to talk and make your own decisions, in public and with others you must assume the worse. They will treat you as an uncooperative baby that doesn't realise its limitations, and obeying Rule Two is paramount: Any deviation from baby behaviour will result in punishment, correction or worse, sometimes even with your Amazon present and able to protect you. Case Study 4-Negative: Matthew had done some great groundwork in the first month of his new relationship and impressed his Amazon with his behaviour and maturity. She allowed Matty to choose his food and clothing, and they discussed challenges together in the home. Unfortunately when out shopping Matty removed his pacifier to complain about the onesie she wanted to buy him, and told her to buy a different one instead. Another Amazon overheard and contacted the protection agency, sharing a concern that Matty was being properly looked after. Following a clearly corrupt investigation Matty's Amazon was ruled incapable of caring for an infant, and herself regressed to baby status. Matthew was last seen en route to an Etiquette School. Case Study 4-Positive: Eleanor unusually chose her own Amazon and they did much planning beforehand. When Ellie moved in she was able to accelerate the relationship and they fell in love almost immediately. This created a level of trust that let them discuss going out in public, with Ellie fully adopting Rule Two and demanding her pacifier everywhere she went, supported by her watchful Mommy. By acting as a quiet well-behaved baby in public Ellie won over her Amazon's friends and made a few of her own: Eleanor is now a mother herself, although her child's father still lives with his own Mommy. Matthew's situation demonstrates how even a single encounter can spell disaster for a Little. Rule Six : Never Complain Voicing a complaint, particularly in public, is not just a very obvious sign of bad behaviour: Babies don't tell their parents they're unhappy, uncomfortable, dislike some food, hate the music or want to leave. They engage non-verbally, through expressions or crying. A Little that breaks Rule Two in public with a politely worded statement (e.g. "Thank you for that wonderful meal") may cause raised eyebrows due to the maturity of the language used, but will be complimented for politeness. Complaints receive no compliments and are instead treated as a threat to the sanctity of the Little's babyhood. Even if the Rule Two breach of a complaint doesn't cause an issue, complaints are negative in nature and will drive a negative response. This could be as simple as a change in perception but (as with Matthew) can lead to a range of stronger responses, including various punishments or corrective actions. Complaining can be easily avoided by exploiting Rule Four, but also by understanding the situations that may cause them. Learn non-verbal cues to share discomfort or distress, or use positive interactions (e.g. reaching out to be picked up) to escape them. Another key cause of complaints is in response to public humiliation and embarrassment. Rule Seven : Don't Be Embarrassed Using your diaper in public will happen. Right now you'll be thinking that's horrifically embarrassing but.. remember Rule Two? Babies don't get embarrassed about it, it's just part of life. Anyway, there's much worse (such as getting your used diaper changed in public). So don't let this get to you, accept that you have no personal privacy and embrace that nobody else is remotely bothered when you're half-naked being wiped down ahead of some fresh clean padding and a nice warm bottle. Relax and enjoy being pampered, and make a show of taking pleasure from it. That'll make Mommy happy too. As you spend more time with specific individuals (Amazon or Little) you'll learn their views and expectations. Be cynical and manipulate them just as you do your own Amazon, but act constructively as you do - they can help make your life fun and engaging and give you opportunities to add meaning to your own and to their lives. Building good relationships is healthy for everybody and key to retaining your mental health. Chapter 5 : Punishment Be kind and generous, and punish your Amazon only when needed. Punishments and correctional actions are a part of any life, but feature strongly in a relationship between an Amazon and a Little. While Amazons have the advantage in strength they are emotionally vulnerable, and this opens opportunities to punish them for transgressions. Be cautious about this. Actions to punish an Amazon should avoid inviting retribution (so no, don't throw your food at her!) but more subtle options exist. As an example, withdrawing even a small amount of compassion or attachment can have a noticeable effect, although we do caution against completely cold-shouldering her as that can cause anger and resentment. Punishments against you will regrettably be unavoidable, warranted or otherwise. The frequency and severity can however be greatly mitigated and much of this pamphlet works to that end, but there are some further direct ways to help. Rule Eight : Be In Control Whether you call it emotional intelligence, self-awareness or another term, having that understanding of your own emotional state can help you exert self-control that avoids negative behaviours. Amazons will label any outburst, non-personal violence and other behaviours as a tantrum, and they always punish tantrums. If you can spot the loss of control ahead of time, you can act to prevent it. While it's seldom possible to walk (or ask to be pushed/carried) away from a situation switching mental state from 'this is upsetting me' to 'I will not let this upset me' can be all that's needed and is a fantastic skill to have. Rule Four can obviously help or if someone friendly is available ask them to hold or support you. Sometimes all you can (or need to) do is stay silent. This may not help avoid conflict entirely, but is a key contributor to the next rule. Rule Nine : Do Not Defend Yourself Whether it's a punishment spanking (justified or otherwise), assault (by an Amazon or a Little), a provocation or anything else, never defend yourself[4]. Against another Little there will always be a carer available within seconds to save you, and an active response or retaliation will merely see you punished alongside your attacker. If the assault is from an Amazon then you're highly unlikely to succeed in defending yourself anyway, and the attempt itself will be severely punished. Case Study 5-Negative: Anna had settled into a sustainable relationship with her Amazon but had never truly settled. One ordinary day she had been taken to the local park to feed the ducks and had slipped and fallen on the grass by the pond. A passing Amazon man berated Annie's guardian for failing to take care of her, and suggested Anna would be better forcibly restrained in a stroller. Already embarrassed and in pain from the fall Annie spat out her pacifier and suggested (using somewhat less diplomatic terms) that the man should keep to himself and move on. Annie's carer stepped in to prevent the man reaching her but apologised to him then turned to Annie, pulled her up and carried her to a nearby park bench where a sustained and painful spanking took place. We understand that Anna's further three month punishment in thick waddle diapers is due to end shortly. Case Study 5-Positive: Cameron was almost an in-betweener, much taller and stronger than most Littles. On an overnight hospital stay another Little got jealous of the attention Cammie was getting from the nurse (who apparently adored such a tall little being in diapers) and when she left the room ran up, pushed him down and started to strike him with a small wooden train. Although Cammie could easily have overpowered his assailant the report his Amazon later received stated admiration for how he put his hands behind his back and waited calmly until a different nurse ran over and pulled away the attacker. Cameron suffered only bruises and has since been allowed to graduate to toddler status, with the promise of daytime potty use if he can stay dry. Don't forget the Amazonian technologies that mean even a nasty wound can be quickly healed. Momentary pain is better than a lifelong punishment! Less obvious is that Rule Nine includes verbal defences. If you speak angrily you'll get punished, no matter how justified you are. Amazons will often say things that are provocative without even realising it, or may just be arrogant or ignorant. Trust in your own Amazon to know what's best for you, and to speak up in your defence if needed. And remember Rule Seven; if someone's talking about how badly your diaper smells, that's their problem not yours. You (probably) didn't choose to fill it. [4] We are frequently asked, "What if it's a matter of life and death, or forced regression". At those times your instincts will take over anyway, so we won't waste your time offering pointless advice. Chapter 6 : Sustenance Eat, drink and be merry. It's not a cliche once you've tasted that Amazon food. Seriously, we know some Littles that have signed up with an Amazon just to get access to the Little food you can only buy from the Amazon stores. That stuff can be addictive but that's not because of any pharmacologicals, it just tastes so good. Unfortunately the Amazons know this and ration it carefully, with the bulk of the food ranging from great (if it's what the Amazons eat) to bland to grotesque (pureed kale baby food? yuck!) Rule Ten : Always eat what you're fed Many Amazons don't believe in feeding solids to small Littles, and like to provide a liquid or pureed diet even to larger ones. This can be very unpleasant, both going in and on the way out, but an unstated facet of Rule Ten is that you're going to be made to eat it anyway. So open up, let them put it in your mouth, close, chew (if needed) and swallow. Your facial expression will share your views on the food, so let that provide the feedback and earn yourself some karma by being easy to feed. That doesn't mean you can't refuse food; sometimes Amazons don't know when a Little is full so if you've just been fed too much and you're feeling full, that's the time to close your mouth instead of accepting the spoon/fork/spork. Even there, close it once or twice to make it clear you'd like to stop, but don't say anything and don't keep it closed after that. If you've grimaced through a pound of pureed cabbage, gravy and beetroot without complaint and only then stopped accepting it your Amazon will realise that this means you're probably full. If they do want to keep going, let them - remember, it's their responsibility if you're sick, not yours. In the first week that may happen a couple of times, then your Amazon will know you're not bluffing and only feed you until you're full. Other Amazons (nurses, daycare attendants, etc) will show more caution as they won't know your limit and will avoid risking sickness. Case Study 6-Negative: Charles was adopted by a caring pair of Amazons that started him on solid food. On his first day he resisted being fed, wanting to hold his own cutlery and show his ability to feed himself. Charlie's Amazons worried that this meant he wasn't ready for solid food and put his meal into the blender, then tried again. A second refusal led to a call to a helpful doctor, who recommended a liquid diet. Poor Charles has been fed from a bottle ever since. Case Study 6-Positive: Tamina started at the other end of the scale, being fed from a bottle for her first week. A few days into her relationship Tammy had finished her bottle and reached out towards her Amazon's plate with a gentle grasping motion. She was rewarded with a small corner of Lasagna which she chewed carefully and swallowed with a big smile. When pulled from her high chair at the end of the meal Tammy reached around and gave the tightest cuddle she could in thanks, and got a smile and cuddle back. Better yet, Tamina is now on solid food for her evening meal each day. Even when fed solids your Amazon will want you to drink a lot, and usually drink from a bottle. Rule Ten still applies; bottles suck (sorry) but they're better than getting 'treatment' because you won't drink from one. They're not all that a lady Amazon will want you to drink from. Even though she hasn't given birth her body will respond as though you're a baby and produce some food for you. Rule Eleven : Go For It Going from an adult life to being treated as a baby is tough. Being expected to breastfeed feels a step too far for many. Worse, Amazon breast milk can cause dual incontinence, and who wants that? Well, sorry to tell you this, but you do. It'll make Rule Five easier to keep, and it'll wear off once you wean. Being reversible makes breastfeeding one of least destructive ways an Amazon can make you incontinent, so give her this option. She'll also appreciate it greatly, as her milk will need to go somewhere, and she'd rather you nurse than she pumps it herself. She'll get that physical relief, and the increased emotional attachment that any nurse gets from an infant. There's another thing: It tastes great! You'll enjoy it too. Rule Eleven really has almost no downsides at all, once you're past that squeamish first step. That 'almost'? Never ever bite. The moment she feels teeth you're at risk of losing them. All of them. Forever. If you ever want to chew solid food, make sure you're a very gentle feeder when you're getting milk from source. Chapter 7 : Day Care Dodge the Day Care nightmare. The only winning strategy is not to play. Amazons love Day Care. They drop you off, then go and spend their day doing things without you. Sure, they need to go to work, or have to travel or have other things going on, but.. they're not the one trapped in daycare. Rule Twelve : Dodge Day Care Do whatever you can to avoid getting put into Day Care. The best approach is to find another Amazon you can both trust that can babysit or that you can visit. They'll know you, understand you and do their best to look after you. Day Care.. won't. It's not that the staff in Day Care facilities are evil, or malicious. They just make mistakes, get overworked, misunderstand and.. things go wrong. Permanently wrong. Hypnosis, sending you home with the wrong person, programming the robot badly. Ah, the robots. Many Day Cares use robot assistants, either to save staff costs or because they genuinely think this is a superior choice. Rule Thirteen : Avoid Robots If you thought Day Care was bad (and it is) then it's nothing compared to robot carers. They're implacable, they'll complete their programmed task whether it's right or wrong, and they make mistakes. Terrible mistakes. You can't plead with a robot. You can't point out that it's disobeying your Amazon's strict instructions. You certainly can't wriggle free. Whether it's in a Day Care or something the mother-in-law bought, it's a threat to your safety. Help your Amazon understand your fear and horror of robots and try to avoid ever being in their care. Case Study 7-Negative: Christine loved her first day at Day Care. The staff made her welcome, she met several Littles and made some new friends. Chrissie begged her Amazon to send her back, and went another eight times in the next two weeks. We never did find out what happened after that, we just know that Chrissie came home from that final visit unable to walk and with a terrified glaze on her eyes. After an in-depth review we cancelled our rescue attempt as Christine now genuinely needs the care she's receiving from her Amazon. Case Study 7-Positive: Edward was curious about Day Care and didn't fight being sent. He did realise straight away that this was a dangerous place and focussed on obeying all instructions but otherwise being quiet and fairly withdrawn. In Eddy's second week the centre was short of staff and instead of giving him a needed change a robot assistant was sent over to help him. As it started to strip him down Eddy heard the robot declare, "Processing 6 month old girl" and realised the robot was still set for its previous patient, a smaller female Little. Rather than struggle, fight and get both hurt and punished Eddy resolved himself to the inevitable, which included removal of all his hair and a well fitting pink diaper with accompanying dress. On her return to the Day Care Eddy's Amazon couldn't decide whether to comfort him or berate the Day Care, but did vow never to send him there again. Edward now has a regular baby sitter that properly addresses his needs. In this entire publication you are encouraged and provided with tools to avoid punishment. Rule Twelve is the exception: It's worth getting punished if it keeps you out of Day Care. Chapter 8 : Trust and Intimacy Build that bond and benefit from it. By now you should have a strong bond with your Amazon. You'll know her limits, what she'll tolerate, what you can get away with. Use this information, exploit it and strengthen that relationship. You may be together for years to come, so make them fun and full of love. Rule Fourteen : Have Fun Find shared interests, or ways to pursue your own hobbies. If you both like the countryside, get out there. If you both enjoy knitting, ask for some wool. You're an intelligent creative being, you need that stimulation and it'll make you happier, so help your Amazon understand this and provide it to you. Case Study 8-Negative: Terence had never forgiven his Amazon for adopting him, and refused to try and like her. The Amazon loved Terry despite this, but couldn't work out how to keep him happy and he gave her no help in this. After months of failing to find things he could enjoy she conceded and went with her mother's suggestion: Terence was regressed to a mental age of 8 months, although he does seem happier now Case Study 8-Positive: Victoria had also never forgiven her Amazon but recognised the need for an amicable relationship. Vicky worked hard on being well behaved and built enough trust to be allowed to pick up her hobbies. Not only was Vicky happier, this made her Amazon happier too, and also gave Vicky the chance to meet other Littles and contact us. Victoria escaped through our network two months ago and helped review this publication. It's not a betrayal to have fun with your Amazon. You need and deserve some fun in your life, so get it where you can. Chapter 9 : Ending Your Relationship Escape. Flee, into the night, never to return. All good things come to an end. But how will your story finish? Rule Fifteen : Choose This pamphlet collates the guidance we've been giving to Littles for many years now and just owning a copy of it will get you sent to Etiquette School. Hope you can trust the person from whom you received it, and ask them to put you in touch with us. We'll do our best to get you free! But we've found that those that obey the rules, build the relationships and get themselves to a position from which escape is possible generally don't want to. They find they like their new life and are happy for it to continue. If that's you, don't be ashamed. You're in a good place, go and be happy.

I have posted this on my Patreon for some time now, and have decided to start publishing each chapter a month elsewhere. I’ve found this story to be one of my better stories I’ve written thus far. I hope you can enjoy the golden apple I’ve worked hard on! Vampers Halloween Trial A Diapered Fantasy By Takumi41 Chapter 1 The Vampire’s Lore This world is filled with many beings. Small as a tiny lily, giant as the trees in a forest. Animals roaming the plains, humans dancing down the streets. However, this world doesn’t just have mere mortals that exist. A parallel world houses what humans consider “monsters.” These monsters can be beasts, witches, and even vampires. Though these monsters may seem scary, they do not chase after humans. In fact, the majority of them live in isolation. I can tell you that is the truth because I am one of these “monsters.” With enhanced physical abilities and sharp fangs, I am a vampire. My name is Viki, and I’m a twelve-year-old vampire girl. Growing up as a vampire on this side of the world hasn’t been difficult. As I mentioned before, with isolation, vampires normally don’t socialize. So, for all these twelve years, I’ve lived, I haven’t talked with a single human once. But I have always given it a serious thought and still wonder why we never do socialize with them. If I could, I would change that. That has been something I’ve dreamed about ever since I was younger. As a vampire, I do have sharp fangs. So as a precaution, I’m pretty good at not showing my teeth to give it away. Unlike many beliefs there are of our kind, we vampires do not bite living beings to suck their blood. In fact, we don’t drink blood at all. Another misconception is that we don’t shapeshift into other forms either. Despite our fangs, we don’t have many differences from the others, including humans. We get up at the same time, study, eat the same things and play. I suppose one of our significant differences, besides remaining reclusive, is that we have unusual abilities. The magical energy within us can be harnessed into many different shapes and forms. As well as being utilized for many tasks to make them more manageable. Being part of the vampires, we have chosen to live away from the other beings in our world. This world being Earth—a planet that has two sides to it. One we often call the “Main” world or even “Human” world. The other is where I was born, the “Alter” world. The Alter world is a different realm than the Main one, where many differences can be spotted. Such as the living beings that reside there. Even with our differences from humans, I lay awake with the sun’s beam through my window. Blinking my eyes, I feel a set of damp sheets under my white knee-length nightgown. Its scent drifting about the room. I, Viki, a twelve-year-old vampire, lay awake, finding my bed wet. Sighing to myself, I cannot believe what has happened. I’m a twelve-year-old girl and a vampire, no less! I shouldn’t be wetting my bed! I scratch the scalp below my long ash-colored blonde hair before blinking my azure eyes a few times. Still, a wet bed is below me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Getting out of bed, I stepped in front of my mirror. The mirror had a floral design on the wooden edges that belonged to an older generation in my family. But here I was, looking at myself—a big wet stain on my nightgown. Brushing my hair with my fingers, I sigh to myself, glaring into the bright blue eyes. Though this is the third wet bed in a row, I know I have to bring my sheets to the wash as soon as I get up. My parents called me out for not letting them know right away on the first day I had the accident. With that in mind, I began the process of striping the white sheets off the bed and taking the pink blanket off my bed. This bed had a valence decorated in a floral pattern—a bed that shouldn’t have been wet. Holding the needed to wash materials, I turned towards the door to my room. Passing by an ornately carved round table with a large novel on top, I marched out of my room through the wooden door. Stepping out, I was greeted by a long hallway with several other rooms. Of course, the bathroom was to the left, but it wasn’t needed now in my current state. I could sense there should be no one down the path. Pillowing through the hallway, I exit into a four-way path of hallways. Pictures lined on the walls, along with short tables with vases filled with flowers. The laundry room which I was seeking was straight across from the hall that my room was in. Through an antique-looking wooden door at the end of the hall led to a room with white walls. Several washing machines and driers were placed in. This was the goal I intended to reach with my sheets—the laundry room. A woman with black hair, a navy-blue collared knee-length dress with a white apron stood looking at me. She was one of our current maids to assist in our daily lives. Not to mention one I could trust with my current predicament. The maid swiftly took hold of the sheets I currently held and put them in the nearby empty washer. “I see the problem still persists, my lady,” the maid spoke with a curtsy. “Unfortunate, but that does seem to be the case,” I sighed. “Thanks for your help, Miranda.” “Of course, you can count on me to help lady Viki!” Miranda replied enthusiastically. However, her look of enthusiasm vanished into a head tilt. “Should I make mentions to the headmistress?” The “headmistress” Miranda was referring to was my mother. Though it could make my life easier, I already made my decision the second I arose from my chambers. “No, I chose to make her aware of the dilemma myself.” “Ah, quite mature, I see,” Miranda smirked. “Well, if you’d require my assistance, do give me a call. Perhaps I can help you change from the current attire?” Looking down showcased the wet-stained knee-length white nightgown with some details around the skirt. It was clear I should have changed out of them. “Nah, I prefer to showcase the evidence,” I twirled my hand in the air. “Alright, well, I wish you the best of luck. Oh, I should tell you she’s in the main hall right now.” “Thanks, Miranda. I shall go reveal the truth to my mother now then. Though, I’m not sure how to get her alone…” “Ah, here, let me assist you with that.” After making her statement, Miranda wrapped me with a pink blanket. “This should hide you from the others from knowing.” I smiled, looking up to her calm crimson eyes, “Thanks!” With a quick wave and an exchange of curtsy’s, I exited the laundry. The main hall was several more corridors and stairs down to reach. This was currently the most enormous estate mansion my family-owned. Even though it wasn’t as big as our primary home, I still found it rather pleasant. This estate served its purposes rather well to my family every year around this time—of October. Once I reached the mansion's main hall, I could spot a woman with a full-length navy-blue dress. This dress had floral embroidery on the collar, a pair of sleeves that streamed below the waist, blonde hair well below her shoulders—my charming mother. My mother was currently directing a few of our maids on how to “decorate” the place. At least, how to decorate it to her vision. The decoration was getting prepared for the month’s event in October—Halloween. Unlike humans having a spooky atmosphere with cobwebs, tombstones, and monsters, we vampires dapper the location with silky white drapes and celebratory flowers. There are other kinds of accessories that go into play. Still, it goes into our celebration of Halloween that vastly differs from mere mortals. Clamoring my way towards the top of the regal rug-covered stairs, my mother looked in my direction. I was glad she did too, as any closer, and I’m sure the maids would be able to smell my accident. “Well, good morning, sweetheart,” My mother exposed her fanged smile. However, she looked at the current attire. “I see you haven’t prepared yourself for the day…and possibly a dilemma?” I looked towards her, then to the side. “Yeah…about that.” My mother turned to look at the maids, “Um, can you wait for us while we talk in private.” With no rebuttal, my mother swiftly jaunted up the stairs, took my hand to the nearby room to the right while the pink sheet drifted along the floor. This white textured door had carvings of a dragon placed over the exterior—fitting for the main hall entrance. Behind the expensive door was a table in the center with floral decorations at the corners. It was not the prettiest room in the estate, but used for conversation with lesser individuals. Closing the door behind her, my mother took a deep breath. “I see you had another accident during the night.” The thought of it brought overflowing mist steam in my eyes, “Yeah…I’m actually worried, mother…” Unable to hold back, I leaped into my mother's arms, escaping the blanket around me. “This is my third accident in a row…But I’m a vampire…a princess no less! This is absolutely unbecoming of me!” Tears began flowing down my eyes. Before I could speak anymore, my mother brushed my hair. “Shh. Shh. It's okay. Everything’s okay! I know the issue brings about a sour taste, but I know it won’t persist forever. There’s an abundance of girls your age who soil themselves at night. This isn’t anything to worry over.” “But…I’m a princess!” I barked back with tears. “That doesn’t matter. Every girl has a set of hardships to overcome—that includes princesses. So, you don’t need to worry over something this meek. But if it troubles you so, lean into me longer. For no matter your status as a princess, queen, or common girl, you will always be my precious little gem! Now let your mother shred those fears of yours.” The instance her grasp ensnared me tight, a pleasant sensation quaked within my tiny frame. I attempted to exchange the same snare. “It’ll all be okay. Mother loves you obsessively. Just soothe into my arms, and everything will be just.” I closed my eyes, grasping my mother tight. Her grasp relocated below my waist, and she held onto my petite bottom. Not realizing the full extent my mother did, I grew closer to her heartbeat. Laying up against her delicate chest, I curled my body—almost fetal. My mother's soft fragrance and hums were the only thing I could sense from my keen observations. Opening my eyes once more, I perceived my location had changed. Mother caressed me to a nearby chair, holding me tight in her arms. Despite me having grown from my infantile stage in life, this was something I’d always cling to. My love for my mother flourished, and it persistently shows. If I ever needed my troubles to melt, my mother would sacrifice to make it so. This care she has done so openly in the past earned her the title of “nurture queen.” Despite wanting to grow up, it always warmed my heart even at this age. Though, we only hug in private locations like this due to our status. “I’m sorry for having you do this for me…” I glanced downwards. “Please, it warms me to hold you,” My mother smiled. “So, think nothing of it as long as you feel better.” “Okay!” I beamed in her direction. “Can I stay like this a little longer, mommy?” “Of course you can.” “Hehe, yay…” Closing my eyes once again, I curled my legs to an even superior angle. With one hand still clasped around my mother, I wrapped my legs with my open hand—thus entering a fetal position. The short hums my mother presented warmed my body. Once I felt fully calmed down, I reopened my eyes once more. Leaning up, I hopped off her lap. “Feeling better, hon?” My mother questioned. “Yup!” I landed with a twirl. “That’s good then. I was beginning to worry if it was affecting you. The last couple of days, it took us by surprise. Even though you seemed fine, I still worried about how you were processing it. Given how the mood vastly changed, I smiled at how informal our private conversation moved. “Yeah, it still bothers me, but not as much now.” “That’s good, just remember, even though you are a princess, accidents happen to the best of us. Though, I won’t deny it…it doesn’t happen to many vampires…” “Wait…what?” I felt stunned. “That doesn’t matter though, you’re our special little princess!” My mother quickly hugged me. “Hehe.” “Well, let us not worry about it for the rest of the day, alright. But if it does happen again, we might need to consider a solution.” “Okay, I agree to that.” It was true. The notion was pointless to ponder about. Despite the idea of what “fixing” the problem could entail, we’ll just have to cross that bridge. “Alright, hon, you should get yourself ready for the day,” My mother scanned my nightgown. I did question the possibility my mother did wonder why I was still wearing the same soiled clothes, but it seemed she didn’t care. The only thought to care about was my well-being. “I can reason with that notion. Probably a good thing too, because I kind of need to go potty now.” The urge didn’t really show itself as I was contently laying in my mother's arms, but a notion of desperation took form. Clasping my legs together, I put my right hand on top of my stained nightgown to hold the best I could. “A good thing indeed. Otherwise, I might be wiping my daughter’s urine off the floor. And I’d have to change my pristine clothes.” “Yeah, I almost took a nap too…” “If you had, I’d most likely be getting Miranda with a mop bucket about now then.” She gave me a devilish smirk showcasing her fully grown fangs. “Haha yeah, well, if you’ll excuse me then.” “Have a good bath, sweetie! I’ll have the maids prepare us breakfast in the meantime, so take your time, okay.” “Okay,” I walked up to the door. “One last thing, mommy,” I started dancing in place. “Yes, Viki?” “Hehe, I love you!” I beamed before scurrying out the door without waiting for a response. I didn’t believe I had it in me to reach the bathroom I would be performing my bath in, so I stopped at the nearest one. Sitting on the porcelain throne, I began to relieve myself. Thinking to myself, I am a twelve-year-old vampire princess, relieved to have made it and not an accident on my mother's lap. Once finished, I flushed the toilet of my waste, closing up the pitstop with a wash of my hands. Now that I could sigh in relief that I didn’t fail to keep the current attire clean a second time, I proceeded towards the area my room was located. The bathroom of my preferred tub was located over in that location. Within the same hall of my room, which door was currently closed, I continued to the end of the hall. Turning the handle led to a bathroom, which walls were covered by a pastel blue, a taque flooring (similar to marble), and small bird creature designs depicting a snazu throughout. Although the bathroom design seemed more of a childish feature, I mainly have fawn memories of it. The bathroom was about half the size of my room. A wall divided the portion with the toilet and bathtub. A double vanity across from the tub made it fun to change which side to use each day. But the critical part was the tub that was built for someone the size of my mother. So, no matter how much I’d grow, I’d always be able to enjoy a pleasantly warm bath in this bathroom. Without a moment's hesitation, I turned the handles for warm water fill the tub. Stripping off the dried wasted clothes, I look in the cabinet under the sink. Once I find the pink bottle, I procure it with a fanged grin. With a naked skip in the air, I opened the bottle above the tub. Pouring a fair bit of the bottle's contents out into the tub as its levels rose up caused a bubble effect to take place. A bubble bath of this nature helped me calm down with the assistance of the aromatherapy scents to be sprayed. The sprays occurred through motion, so once I would get in, a soothing aroma would be gently poured into the atmosphere. It was similar to having a candle, though my parents didn’t trust me with fire, even near an open source of water. Turning the handles once more the other way caused the water to stop pouring from the faucet. Stepping into the pleasantly warm water with a smile, a relaxing scent blew my direction. Soaking my hair under the water as my fingers felt the bubbles, I felt far better than I did before. No maids would come to aid us in cleaning up, given that was not a duty we had given them. As a vampire, we prefer to take things into our own hands. Plus, it would take away from the relaxing atmosphere under the presence of someone else. Or so that’s what my mother always told me when I asked in the past. Finishing up this lengthy soothing soak, I unplug the drain. As the water level slowly sank, I rose up out of the tub. Hoisting a pure white towel made with a soft fabric made for royals, I proceed to dry myself off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I find myself ready for the next step in the daily routine. Following my earlier tracks outside the door, I take a detour into my room. If the day were to present itself like any other, well besides my nightly accident, I should find a set of clothes prepared for me in my room. Pushing open the door, I found as I would have expected—a clean set of clothes picked out from the maids hand-picked by my own style. Even though we do not have maids assisting us through our daily needs such as bathing, they still help straighten things out, like getting our clothes battle-ready. Although, I am the final say in the style they choose. For this current time, I have set the type to be cute. I choose this style, as I admire the kinds of clothes they’ve picked out for it. In the current case, I see laid in front of me a silky dress. This white knee-length dress is slightly different from your average dress. The top part has a collar with a sash tied around the chest with a similar pair of sleeves that my mother had. For the bottom half had frills at the hem. Lastly, a couple of comfy black leggings followed by white undergarments that have a cute little black ribbon. If the clothing were a bit trickier to put together, a maid would stay behind to assist us in putting the equipment on—typically Miranda. However, that doesn’t appear to be so for this case. So, I begin the equipment process by dropping my towel. Once I finished equipping the dress, it drooped an inch below my knees. Admiring the frills at the hem, I find myself excited how today’s outfit turned out. Stepping into the regal floral mirror in my room, I take a good look as I turn and twist my body to view at different angles. Smiling with my fangs, I am delighted at today’s choice of clothing. However, my hair wasn’t in the best of shape, given it was still wet. So, I scoop the towel I used and head back over to the bathroom. Back in the bathroom, I step in front of the mirror to locate a nearby brush and hairdryer. I could call for a maid or even my mother to do this for me, but I felt the need to be a big girl since my recent accident. After I’d finish this procedure, I would have an excellent breakfast to look forward to. Now that I have been prepared, I continued out the bathroom doors down the main hallway I used before. Near the main hall on the ground floor was a corridor with a set of doors leading to my next destination. With our family now up and battle-ready for the day, we could proceed our breakfast operation. Opening up the regal wooden door leads to a set of decorated white-clothed tables with a vase of colorful flowers to the right. Gorgeous glass ornaments hanging effulgent from the ceiling. A large circular table with a white cloth covering is placed at the center. Elegantly crafted chairs resting against the table for guests to enjoy. As well as my mother and a well-dressed vampire-man with dark hair. They noticed my presence and turned my way with a fanged smile. Returning their kind expression, I endured up to my mother to take my seat between her and the male vampire. First looking up to my mother, then I look over to the man who is my kind father giving both of them a warm smile. Now that I had taken my seat, we could proceed to the main dishes for our breakfast. The family I sat next to is the current queen and king of all vampires within our nation. Much like other monarchs that exist within the world, the royal family's blood is passed on. Royal blood runs through the veins of our current king—my father. Our kind never took much the interest of inbreeding to keep the royalty “pure,” so the majesty would always be looking for lovers as they grew up. According to the story, my mother tells me how the two of them got together on a starry night. They had known each other for several years and supported one another but didn’t have romantic feelings at first. “Until that starry night,” my mother would say with a giggle ending the story. Despite not knowing the exact details, I ended up coming about the world due to the two of them which I am grateful for. Perhaps one day I’ll get to know, but I am happy to be their daughter for now. Being their daughter would mean that the royal blood runs through me—much like my liquids at night. That would have me be the royal princess. Unlike other princesses, our kind has been protective of each individual’s decision since ancient times. Thus, the princess in our kingdom wouldn’t be marketed off to another country just to “strengthen the countries ties.” The thought of it disgusts me. Having my decision being respected would mean if I desired a different path than royalty, I can pursue it. However, my parents and other relatives love saying how I’m the spitting image of the very revered Kassandra. Kassandra was one of our very early empresses who saved our kind from being forced into slavery by other beings. Supposedly her famous quote is “love our surroundings, but perish not.” Though no matter how many times I look over at her portrait, I can’t find the similarities. I mean, sure, we have the same hair color and eyes…not to mention I completely agree with that quote. To appreciate everyone for who they are, but to care for our kind first before moving into agreements with the other species was more or less how I perceived it. Given this comparison has had me a little troubled to figure out my path for my own future. “Now that I have my two favorite girls at the table,” my father began to speak. “We can discuss a short bit of these upcoming days. As I’m sure you are aware, Halloween is coming soon, and that will mean I’ll be busy into the late evening.” He looked towards me and gave a bright expression. “Of course, I will always make myself available at our usual time.” By “usual time,” he was referring to the time he instructs me. As a princess and a vampire, I do not go to any kind of institution for schooling. At least the leading vampires have voted against it. “I have plans in the process currently in the works as well,” my mother spoke up. At this point, they continued to explain their business relations with the government board and cabinet members. This had been a process I have come accustomed to given my twelve years of being a princess. Though it always sounded like a lot of work went into each Halloween. Unlike the mortals who would dress up as fowl creatures to greet each doorstep with a demand for sweets, we vampires send our proper respects and thanks to those before us. Such a tradition was put into place closer to a thousand years back. Back in those times, vampires were relegated to the shadows just for how different we were despite the majority of us only trying to mind our own business. That was till a group of vampires banded together and eventually formed their own civilization outside. Thanks to their efforts, we can live in comfort, isolated from the disasters that sprung from others. Hidden from human knowledge, Halloween is only an adopted term from us. From what I have studied about this holiday, humans did stumble on a ceremony in the process. Those humans took that knowledge, ignorant that it was a group of vampires, and spread information to others. The following year, it began as a pagan tradition as some means to celebrate spirits. However, their Christian churches didn’t approve of this belief. They began spreading treats at their doorsteps to the youth to prevent them from participating. The church had a lot of success in this and shut down the pagan ritual. Despite it being shut down, the idea was continuously passed down. Eventually, the great depression hit America, which caused the idea to cause mischief in most youth. Given the problem it was causing, they ultimately gave the kids treats at the doorsteps once again. A tradition they adopted from miscued beliefs long before that belonged to us—Halloween. “With Halloween approaching,” I began to voice myself. “I wanted to experience the traditions human children would perform.” After I voiced my desire, silence filled the room. I understood my wish was like a comet in chances, but it was still one I desired fulfilled. As we vampires have grown to recluse away from other societies, we trade with them. We’ve only grown better at hiding these years, and something inside me just didn’t like that, though. A heavy sigh escaped from my father, “You know very well that we cannot interact with their kind. Especially the history our kind has endured. I’m sure you’re also aware of how terrible they treat themselves! How the woman of their kind have suffered through so many hardships and the discrimination just based on one’s own skin!” I began to pout, “But they have changed their ways long since then. It's only our stubbornness that keeps us from changing. Plus, I thought it could be a start to show the government and our people those changes!” Hmph! I remember hearing you say something similar to that too! We continue to glare at each other till we hear my mother clearing her throat. “W-well, regardless of this matter, your father and I will be unavailable for some time. So, we will have to leave you to the care of our maids once again.” I exhaled a heavy sigh, “Sigh, again. I thought you’d think about a different possibility for me this year.” “I’m sorry, sweetie,” My father stated solemnly. “I know you don’t like being in the care by our maids, but it isn’t like we have many other options.” My mother looked at me with a sour expression, “You know our maids would be just like hiring a sitter anyways. Plus, I thought you were close with Miranda?” “I-I am! I thought I was grown enough to be left alone, though,” I puffed. “B-but…sigh,” my father wrinkled his brow. “Look, we’ll think about this later, alright. We can enjoy our meal then and begin your studies for the day.” “Alright,” I gave in. It wasn’t something I felt pleased with for the idea. Still, my options didn’t seem very existent besides being left with the maids. Although I did feel alright with them here and helping out whenever it just didn’t feel right without my parents being present. With breakfast taken care of, I could now begin my daily studies. As a princess, I was homeschooled—through with the best education to offer. A majority of vampires were often homeschooled, though. Not many public schools existed for us to gather to, as generally there wasn’t enough of our kind to fit that demand. The fertility rate of vampires had been relatively stagnant for many centuries. Still, I suppose it’d make sense for our kind, given we do tend to live longer than the average mortal. The first subject I would tackle today would be mana harnessing. However, it was specialized to my physique. Unlike other vampires who typically graduated harnessing in their elementary days, I was a particular case. The mana inside me was far refined in comparison—thus, I had a more substantial capacity for mana usage. Granted the subject field had sparse research available for proper instructors, it would fall to my father to instruct me. From what I’m aware of, mana is generally genetic. Which would mean my father should also have a higher capacity than the average vampire. However, it sometimes can be spontaneous and unpredictable. So, it's generally genetic to a certain degree of percentage. My father first taught me that I was a unique case when it came to a vampire’s mana. Even though the royal family is lucky in children rich in mana, I was essentially an absurdly large diamond. Not yet refined, but no value could compare. Hence when we had instructors try to teach me at a young age, they would all abandon their position due to a lack of understanding my physique. Thus, due to no other vampire being able to visualize my being, my father decided to be my instructor and made sure to cut enough time for it. The best suitable location for harnessing mana is in a peaceful environment. So, our typical classroom was in the green room located in the back of the mansion. Many colorful flowers flourished alongside the greenest trees the world could witness. The half-dome shape was covered in window paneling to give a fantastic view outside. This room had a spectacular view at night when the moon sparkled through. Taking our seats in comfy outdoor seating arrangements, my father and I would begin the instructions. “Alright, sweetie, before we begin, let us meditate,” My father stated. This was a widespread routine I had been accustomed to. The meditation was to assist in harnessing one’s own state. At least that’s what I was told. Sitting with my legs crossed on top of each other, I put my hands together, closing my eyes. Slowly breathing in through my nose—witnessing many gorgeous scents around me before exhaling out my fanged mouth. A tranquil feeling came to me. “That should be enough for meditation. Now let us proceed with today’s procedure,” My dad stood up. My eyes opened up and followed in suit. “Today, I think you are ready to graduate to the next stage.” “Oh really?” I felt shocked. It was about a couple of years back before my father stated something similar and when our subject field changed. I’m still unsure what the importance of all that I had learned was, but my father tells me I have a pure talent for it. “Yup, as a matter of fact, you’re getting close to surpassing your father,” he said with a pleased expression. “It wasn’t till my late teens for when I got to this stage. So, it has me very pleased to see how much progress you can make this early on. As a father, it has me undoubtedly happy, and as a vampire, I am curious to see where you might go.” “I see…” I said, blushing away. The sudden praise felt very good, but I tried my best to contain it. “What will we be covering now?” “Well, as we have covered the subjects of harnessing your mana, circulation, and the idealization stages, it’s now time for you to learn how to harness it in other means.” Hearing the term had me perk my ears in interest for what it could mean. “So, for today’s first lecture will be about self-defense. But I first wanted to mention that your mother and I are both on the fence about you learning this. As we always want to be there for you, is there really a means to teach you self-defense? That was when I recalled my old instructor and retainer.” The term “retainer” stuck out to me, as I remember the old gentle Frederick. He was a kind man that I came to love, and I called him my uncle. However, he passed on many years back when I was still relatively young. Those tears I had I still remember to this day. “Well, Frederick once told me that even though I may be royalty, would that mean I shouldn’t have a need to learn self-defense? But that would only weaken me to becoming an easier target. If I wanted to be defended at all times, at least the self-dense, I know would be there for me in dire times. It was through this teaching that had your mother, and I change our minds. So, with this teaching in mind, we can at least sleep easy that you can manage by yourself when the time comes.” “Ah, that does sound like uncle Fred!” I smiled with my fangs peaking. “But I’ll do my best that I can!” “That’s my girl! Now for today’s first lecture will be about putting something to sleep…” The lecture and technique went on for about an hour before we stopped for the day. With a pleased smile, my father leads me back to my study room, where I would begin studying other subjects. Though the latter half of our instructions for self-defense, I couldn’t help but think about being able to spend time with mortals once again. I couldn’t help muttering “if only there was some way,” out loud. But he left me within the study, hoping me a good rest the day before sitting in meetings for the day. I’ve once had several tutors come through to make sure I’m on a topic only to find I was advanced from where I should be. Thus, I’d continue to make progress on my own. *** Several more hours of studying go by before I could call it a day, thus closing the book with a clump. Now that I have finished all my studying, I could proceed through the day with my hobbies. The current hobbies in mind were reading and playing with my dolls. I know I was a bit old for playing with my dolls, but the process of imagination and how cute the dolls were constructed always had me returning for more. As for the stories I enjoyed reading, I can’t help but admit I’m a stickler for princess novels. It's kind of embarrassing to admit that I, a princess enjoyed reading about other princesses. Though the kind I read about is more fairy-tale related. Where the princess becomes trapped, and a handsome prince slays a dragon to save them. Such romance I couldn’t help but admire. But I’ll sometimes lie, saying I like to read only about vampire mysteries. Despite my enjoyment, the thoughts about another soiled bed remain in my head. Would I wake up with another wet bed? Was I severely different from a vampire? Was there something wrong with me? I couldn’t help but be somewhat afraid for my future. However, I could only hope there was at least some way I’d be able to bridge past the vampire’s issues of the outside world.

Only once the lock to the room finally clicked behind him did Nathan breath a long sigh of relief. He had been nothing but a ball of nerves ever since he had left the house— no, even before that. Somehow he had managed to keep it together when he had explained to his wife Jean days before that he had a business trip coming up soon and would be gone for the weekend, probably helped by the fact that this was not the first time he had pulled this similar ruse on her and managed to get away with it. He loved Jean, he truly did. They had been married for fourteen blissful years already, and he was more than ready to spend the rest of his life with her, but there were just some times where he just needed to get away for a few days, to just let himself truly… relax. Looking around himself, he eyed the motel room he had rented out for the weekend. It was nothing special, mostly clean, cheap, and far enough away from home that the risk of possibly bumping into someone he knew. It was the kind of motel room you tended to see on all those cop shows, the ones were the balding husband would be absconding away to to have an affair with some hot girl half his age. Having an affair was the last thing on Nathan’s mind though, as his true goal was something far more embarrassing, something that he knew would destroy his life and marriage in an instant if anyone ever found out. Wheeling his suitcase inside, Nathan picked it up and plopped it up onto the bed before unzipping it. Upon open it, he immediately saw all the business clothes he had packed… and quickly tossed them all aside as he revealed the true treasure hidden beneath, ones that took his breath away for a brief moment. Reaching in, Nathan picked up one of the plastic rectangles stashed inside, smiling at the loud crinkling sound it made and the colourful prints adorning what was obviously a very large, very thick, and very infantile looking diaper to anyone with eyes. One far too big to fit anyone other than a full grown adult. A full grown adult like Nathan for example, though he wouldn’t be acting like one for much longer. Within moments, Nathan had stripped himself out of his stuffy adult clothes and carefully powdered and taped the diaper onto himself, his smile extending from ear to ear as the thickness of the diaper pushed his legs apart enough to give him an adorable waddle, which he spent several minutes doing as the room became filled with the sounds of his crinkling bottom. Once that was done, Nathan reached into his bag and pulled out a large purple pacifier, one that he wasted little time in popping into his mouth and sucking on, an barely audible cooing sound emanating from his mouth as he suckled away. Almost done, the last part of his transformation was the cute baby blue onesie he had packed, which he carefully slipped on before doing up the buttons one the butt flap. The buttons actually seemed to struggle against the sheer thickness of Nathan’s diaper, bulging out in such a way that it was very clear what he was wearing underneath. Like flicking a switch, Nathan felt all the stressed that had been building up over the last few weeks begin to melt away, leaving behind a giggling, excited Adult Baby Boy behind. Minutes later, Nathan was seated on the floor, his diapered butt acting as comfortable cushion as he giggled and laughed at cartoons on the motel tv. During a commercial break, he even traded out his Paci for a bottle of warm milk he quickly prepared, which was gone before the next commercial break. Eventually that milk had to go somewhere, so after a few more cartoons, Nathan felt a telltale tingling in his bladder. Without a second though, he let go and flooded his diaper, smiling at the warmth spreading though his diaper. Reaching his hand down, he squished his now soaked diaper beneath his onesie, imagining himself sitting not in a motel room, but in a massive nursery perfectly prepared to take care of his ever need. Uh oh! Looks like someone needs his diapee changed! In his head, Nathan pictured a woman walking up to him and suddenly checking his diaper, distracting him from his cartoons and toys for a moment as he realized how soaked he really was. The woman would smile and coo at him like the loving nanny she was, picking up with ease as she carried him over to the changing table and setting him down atop it. Once his onesie was undone to reveal the state of his soggy diapers, he would giggle as the woman tickled his belly before gently untaping his used diaper and tossing it into the nearby diaper pail to join the many others like it. He would shiver slightly at the feeling of cold wipes sliding across his crotch, but the woman’s smile would pull him back to smiling and giggling. She would then pull out a diaper with similar designs to the one he had just been wearing—They were his favorite, after all!— and slid it under his bottom, adding a generous amount of sweet smelling powder to his crotch before pulling up the front and securely taping him into a cute diaper once more. There, all clean! She would say as she patted his fresh diaper before leaning down and kissing his forehead, causing Nathan to gaze longingly into Jean’s beautiful eyes and smile as she— Like a slap to the face, Nathan snapped out of his fantasy and shook the image from his mind. As much as he wished it was true, he knew his fantasy would always only remain that: a fantasy. Many times he had tried to come clean to her while they were dating, but every time he had chickened out. Now that they were married, Nathan assumed he had missed his chance. He loved her, and he knew she loved him, but whenever he imagined himself finally telling her about this side of him he became filled with terror. Images of her scowling at him in disgust and calling him a “freak” or a “disgusting pervert” filled his mind and only made it clearer to him that he would need to continue keeping this a secret from her to keep his life intact, no matter how much it made him feel like he was betraying her to do so. She can never know. ———————————————— Jean idly turned the page of her book as she sat on the living room couch, occasionally glancing up at the clock to check the time. Nathan had left some time ago, and so she had started reading to help pass the time now that she was alone. Though while on the outside Jean looked calm and collected, on the inside she was a excited mess. She was barely even reading the book in front of her, using it as more of a distraction as her glances up at the clock became more and more frequent as time seemed to pass painfully slow. She wanted nothing more than to just abandon the book altogether and indulge in what she really wanted, but her mind was set on being patient. Just an hour, long enough that she knew Nathan wouldn’t unexpectedly return home to retrieve something he had forgotten. She could wait that long… right? She lasted about forty-five minutes before she couldn’t take it any more. Tossing the book aside, she leapt up from the couch and practically bounded upstairs, making a beeline for the master bedroom and practically ripping the doors of her walk-in closet open. Nathan almost never came in here, and she trusted him not to snoop even if he did, so she knew her secret was safe from him. Still, she had been super careful to stash it all behind several rows of clothes, just in case. After a few moments spent pushing clothes aside, she finally found what she was looking for. A seemingly inconspicuous brown box lay before her, but inside lay her real prize. Popping the box open, she smiled at the sight of the partially open bag of pink plastic rectangles, all neatly packed and ready to be used. Nathan and her didn’t really want kids, so it might be a bit odd to see her with a pack of diapers at all, let alone one hidden away in the back of her closet. It might seem a bit more odd once you notice that these diapers are far too big for a baby of any kind, large enough to fit a full grown adult. A full grown adult like Jean, for instance. Smiling, Jean carefully extracted one of the diapers from the bag and held it in her hands, bringing it up to her nose for a moment and breathing in the heavenly smell of baby powder laced into the diapers. Unable to contain herself any longer, she hastily strips out her silly adult clothes, bra included, and lays back before unfolding the diaper and positioning it underneath her. Just as she was about to tape it on, however, she almost slapped herself as she realized she’d forgetten something. Toddling naked into the adjoining bathroom and retrieves a bottle of rash cream from under the sink. With cream in hand, she returns to the waiting diaper and sits back down before unscrewing the top of the rash cream and lathering a sufficient layer on her sensitive skin. With that taken care of, she reseals the bottle of cream before setting it aside and finally pulling up the front of the diaper and taping it on. Still naked save for her fresh diaper, Jean spent a few minutes sifting through her collection of clothes for something more “appropriate” to wear, giggling at the clinking sound she made whenever she moved or wiggled her butt. Eventually she settled on a pink lace nightgown that was practically see through and left nothing to the imagination, giggling from knowing that it would do absolutely nothing to hide her new padding. Slipping it on, Jane posed in the mirror for a few minutes, even going as far as to take a few pictures of padded rear for her secret Instagram (making sure to delete the originals once they were uploaded). Once she was satisfied, Jean toddled back downstairs and into the kitchen, where she quickly prepared a bottle of warm chocolate milk for herself. Minutes later, Jean was back to sitting on the living room couch, only now she was giggling and laughing at the cartoons playing out on the tv in front of her. Sucking away at her bottle, it wasn’t long before she had drained it completely, setting it aside and quickly forgetting about it. That was a problem for adult Jean later, not Adult Baby Jean now. All she had to worry about were the colourful sights and sounds coming from the tv. As Jean settled into a much simpler and younger mindset, she felt a slight twinge in her bladder. With barely a thought, Jean let go and flooded her diapers, knowing for experience that they could handle whatever she threw at them, and more. Indeed, while the diaper noticeably expanded as it absorbed her little “accident”, it held fast. During a commercial break, Jean took a moment to examine her how saggy diaper, smiling as she hiked up her nightgown slightly and placed her hand onto her diaper, feeling it squish beneath her touch. As she focused on the warmth of her diaper, the world began to melt around Jean, replacing her normal living room with a huge and fully stocked nursery, one more than ready to see to her every need as she played without a care in the world. She wasn’t alone in her fantasy though, as she had a playmate joining her. The pair would laugh and play the hours away, not caring in the slightest as they soaked their diapers. Eventually though, she would crawl up behind her playmate and take a moment to check their diaper. “Uh-oh!” She would say with a mischievous hint in her voice. “Looks like someone needs his diapee changed!” Then the fantasy would change in a few ways. She would still be diapered as well, obviously, but she would suddenly go from being a playmate to a caregiver, smiling as she picked her playmate up and carried him over to the changing table. After unbuttoning the flaps on his onesie, she would take a moment to tickle his now exposed belly, causing her adorable playmate to giggle and laugh as she went to work changing him out of his sagging diaper and into a fresh one. One diaper change later, she would proudly declare him, “All clean!” Patting the front of his new diaper, she would then lean down and give him a kiss on the forehead as she stared longingly into Nathan’s eyes and— Snapping back to reality with a shake of her head, Jean felt a bubble of shame start to grow in the pit of her stomach. As much as she wanted to, she knew that telling Nathan her secret was simply out of the question, to say nothing about potentially asking him to join her as well! She loved him with all her heart, but that idea that he might react negatively to learning about her secret fantasy horrified to her very core and had kept her from ever telling him while they had been dating. Now that they were married, it was far too late now. Her fantasy would simply remain as that forever: a fantasy. As she turned her attention back to the antics of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck in the hopes of getting back into her little headspace, she only reaffirmed to herself that she could never be honest enough to tell Nathan what she really liked to do while he wasn’t home. He can never know. ——— And so, the pair would both go to bed that night alone, snug in their freshly changed diapers and knowing in their heart that they could never tell the other about their secret fantasies, no matter how much it hurt to keep them secret. Maybe someday the two will discover that they have even more in common that they first realized when they got married, but for now they were both content with continuing to happily indulge in private.

-

Chapter 1: The Realm of Methrella Regina opened her window, watching the waves crash on the beach and people mill around her small town. A warm breeze entered the room and filled it with the distinctive smell of the ocean. Regina took a deep breath in... and out. "I should text Abby and the others soon. Today seems like a nice day to play outside", she thought. As she was turning on her phone to call her best friend, the young woman heard a soft knock on her door. She stepped away from the window. "Come in", she called. In stepped a small boy in blue jeans and a black shirt with a knight's helmet print in the middle. He smiled softly at his sister, flicking his dark brown-blonde hair out of his face. It was her 8-year-old brother. "Hi, Regina", he said in a soft voice. "Hey, Riley. What's up?", she asked curiously, watching as her little brother sat on her bed and laid back, staring at the ceiling. "Well, mom said you bought a game yesterday?", he asked hopefully. "I want to know if I can play it too." "Umm... yeah, I did", she said. Regina glanced at her phone and considered her options. She knew that her mom would be bugging her later on if she didn't let Riley play for a little while. Even though the siblings didn't have a bad relationship at all, their parents always pushed Regina to socialize more with her little brother. "So... can I?", Riley asked again. "Y-yeah, sure. Why not?", Regina sighed and put her phone back on the table. "I can send the guys a message in a few hours. I just hope that this doesn't take too long", she thought. The 18-year-old booted up her computer and started the game. "Sandbox Kingdoms...", Riley read, excited. "What is it about?" "It's a game where you can create your own civilizations and stuff", Regina answered. "You can make empires, kingdoms, and even small towns in different parts of the world and give them their own cultures." As a passionate fan of fantasy stories, Regina had gotten into worldbuilding since she was 14. She knew no one else who shared that hobby in her town, but through her years on the internet, she had managed to meet many online friends and writers that only made her love of worldbuilding grow bigger. And when a friend of hers showed her the game for the first time, she knew she had to buy it immediately. As the game finished loading, Riley got up from the bed and sat on her lap. Regina created a new world for Riley, and the boy started scrolling through the many options that the game offered. "This is hard to read!", he complained. "Too many big words!" As Regina had said, it seemed to be a very customizable game, having settings for the number of days in a year, the number of seasons, the world map, and so on. "So, what should I do now that the world is created?", Riley asked. "Well, you can start making civilizations for it", Regina said. "Look, this seems like a good place to start." She clicked over some plains between a range of mountains and a long river. A small flag icon appeared on top of the place. A new civilization had been founded! "Now, these different settings alter the reality of your world and its people", she said after a new window appeared on the screen. Her brother grinned and watched as his world unfolded. Regina helped and guided him, telling him where it would be good to place houses, castles, farms, and much more. Eventually, after modifying almost everything in the 'create civilization' window and creating the perfect town in Riley's eyes, the game showed them a timelapse animation of the history of the place, which Riley had decided to name "the Town of Thieves". "Town of Thieves?", Regina questioned, looking at the name. "Why did you decide to call it that way?" "It sounds cool and mysterious!", he answered happily. "It sounds kinda copycat-ish to me...", Regina teased, even though she knew her little brother wouldn't understand what she was referring to. "Shhh, it's perfect!", Riley said. After a few hours of playing and comprehending the game, Riley stretched and slid off Regina's lap. "I gotta go do my homework, sis", he smiled and headed towards the door. "But thank you, it was really fun." Riley closed the door behind him, leaving Regina alone with her computer. She looked at her phone and sent a message to her friend's group chat. "I hope they answer soon. I guess I can keep playing on my own world while they do", she thought. She saved Riley's world and opened hers. She had been playing on it since the afternoon the day before and until late at night. Her parents didn't usually check on her after 11, so she invested a few hours of her precious sleep in order to make her world perfect. She had created many civilizations of various sizes and alignments all around the world, but she had left her 'homeland' for the very end. This would be the place where she would create her main character, who would travel and set on daring quests in that world full of adventures and dangers. Once again, after completing the design of the place, the game asked her to name it. "The Realm of Methrella", she typed. She came up on the spot with that name. It didn't have a concrete meaning for now, but she'd eventually give it one that fit with the narrative of the world as a whole. Once the realm had been finished, she clicked on the long-awaited 'character creation' tab and started creating her avatar. She somewhat resembled her real-life self, nothing too fancy. "Huh?" As she was going through the final details, she noticed that the height settings were apparently jammed. Her character seemed to be as tall as a 10-year-old, and it didn't change at all even if she modified the settings. "Well, we might as well stick with that" A notification sound came out of her phone. It was Abby. "Great! They are free", Regina thought. She saved the game and logged off her computer. She got dressed into her sport clothes and went downstairs. "Mom! Dad! I'm going out to play volleyball with my friends!", she said in a loud voice. "Sure, Reg. Take care!", her mom answered from the kitchen. Almost half an hour passed after Regina had left her home when little Riley sneaked into her sister's room. He had left one of his action figures there a few days ago, but had forgotten to ask Regina for it. As he began looking for it, the computer suddenly turned on, revealing Regina's personal world in the game. He giggled slightly and got on her seat, tampering with her world mischievously, before pausing and undoing it all. "Let's try something from here", he decided, going into the 'daily life' tab, and changing a small but significant detail of the world. Riley quickly saved his progress and turned off Regina's computer. He stayed a few minutes there looking for his figure. Once he had found it, he ran off to his room. "I'm home!" Regina arrived an hour before the sunset. Tired because of all the time she had played, she went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. At dinner she noticed that her brother kept looking away from her, giggling occasionally. She shrugged it off, finishing her food quickly and going upstairs to her room. The young woman fell asleep, staring at the white ceiling. A soft flicker of blue light appeared on her computer and her world turned on at the 'character creation' tab. It was empty. As the screen changed to green for a second, Regina vanished from her bed.