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Part 1: Julian Meyer was walking slowly towards the Mitterstein ruins. The ruins were remnants of the castle that towered above the town. Unfortunately, the castle burnt down long ago, and half collapsed walls was everything that was preserved. Julian was an IT expert; he worked at home mostly. If he needed relaxation, he always hiked through the surrounding forests; the ruins were his favorite place; he got a strange feeling every time he sat down there and looked around. He usually spent an hour or two there and kept thinking of their history. What could have happened in the past? Mitterstein castle was enveloped by rumors about magic and wizardry, but Julian didn’t believe in those rumors at all; his mind was strictly controlled by rules and mathematic formulas. That was the probable reason for his single status. His younger sister Helga had married long ago and had her own family already. She often teased him about his attitude. “Julian, do you know anything else besides math, forest and old ruins?” she asked him regularly, “did you ever think of a relationship? Would you like to stay single forever?” “Why not, Helga?” was his usual answer, “I don’t need anything else. A relationship would distract me from my work though.” “At least, you would have your house tidied up and better food than fast food and pizza. Find a nice girl and your life will improve a lot.” Julian just remembered Helga’s words while he was climbing the narrow path to the ruins. He kept looking around and listening to the leaves rustle and birds’ singing. “It is like heaven,” he thought; however, he suddenly noticed a sound that didn’t match the scenery. To his utter surprise, he heard a human voice. When he came closer, he recognized a female voice calling for help. “Who could be there? I’ve never met anyone in the ruins,” he told himself and sped up. As he reached the ruins, he stopped dead in his tracks. A young woman was lying near the basement stairwell. She was about 25, short and slender. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes were deep blue. However, her clothing was strange; it looked like a medieval theatre costume. “What happened, miss?” Julien walked over to her. “I don’t know, sir. All of sudden, I found myself here.” “My name is Julien, miss,” Julien was taken aback by calling him ‘sir’, “can I ask who you are?” “Sorry, sir. I don’t know,” her voice sounded desperate. “What? You don’t know who you are? You don’t know your name. How is it possible? Did you lose your memory?” “I’m afraid I did,” she sighed. “Okay, let’s go to the town. Maybe somebody will recognize you, miss. Give me your hand, I help you stand up.” “No, I can’t, sir. I can’t move at all,” tears appeared in her eyes. “How so? Are you hurt?” Julien squatted down and watched her closely, but he didn’t see any sign of an injury, “what happened to you?” “I don’t know, sir. Yesterday, I found myself here and I can’t move at all. If you haven’t found me, I would die.” “Well, I have to call the emergency service then,” Julien pulled out his phone and dialed 911. Half an hour later, two paramedics with a gurney, and a doctor arrived at the place. “I don’t understand it,” the doctor shook his head, “she is paralyzed but not hurt, almost as if she was hit by polio, but a memory loss doesn’t match it. We will transport her to the hospital.” The doctor and paramedics loaded the woman onto the gurney and carried her down the path; Julien followed them. He also asked to join them in the ambulance, but they refused; he followed them in his car. After all, they didn’t have to hurry up and use the horn and beacons. --- “Mr. Meyer, do you know anything else about her?” a police officer asked him. The hospital staff called the police to find out her identity, and an officer arrived at the emergency station. “No, officer, I don’t know anything. I regularly go to the ruins, and today, she plainly appeared there.” “Gentlemen, I have good and bad news,” the doctor emerged from the examining room,” she is not hurt at all, but she is paralyzed; she can’t move her arms and legs, but she still can breathe. Otherwise, she would be dead.” “Well, we will initiate an investigation to find out her identity. Maybe we will find her family. We will check the list of missing persons,” the officer interjected. “Yeah. She needs somebody to take care of her,” the doctor sighed, “there is no reason to keep her here, but we can’t release her plainly. She even doesn’t know who she is or where she lives. She also doesn’t have any documents and insurance.” “What happens if you don’t find out her identity?” Julien got curious. “She will be placed in a hospice probably and live there,” the doctor shrugged, “but I don’t know who will pay for it. Maybe a caritative institution could admit her.” Julien kept listening; he remembered the moment he found her. How did she get to the place? The next mystery was her clothing. She looked as if she belonged to another world, but she didn’t remember anything. Suddenly, he felt a strong emotion. The poor woman got lost and couldn’t live alone. What if he asked her to stay with him; at least until her family was found? Something unexpected appeared in his mind besides math formulas and nature. Nevertheless, the woman was a part of nature though. “Officer, can she stay with me, let’s say as a visit? When her family will be found, they can take care of her then,” Julien turned to the police officer. “Why not?” the officer shrugged, “she seems to be adult and can decide upon it.” “Go and ask her, but you will have to take care of a paralyzed person as if you took care of a baby,” the doctor opened a door, and Julien entered the room. The woman was dressed in a plain hospital gown; her clothes were sitting on the nearby chair. Julien also noticed an adult diaper between her legs and remembered the smell when he squatted down to her, “Miss, the doctor said there was no reason to keep you here, but you can’t be released plainly. Would you mind if you stayed with me until your family or relatives were found? I live alone.” “Oh, sir, you are generous, but will you be able to take care of me? I can’t do anything on my own,” she looked at him and more tears appeared in her eyes. “I will learn it; you won’t need any medical care though. I work at home and can be with you,” Julien instinctively walked over to her and wiped the tears away. Her answer was a smile. “Okay then. I will stay with you,” she nodded slightly. She could move her head a little. “I will tell the doctor and arrange everything necessary,” Julien turned back and returned to the hall. “I’m a bit surprised,” the doctor said, “but she probably doesn’t have any option left. To be honest, the hospice is not a good place to live; it looks like a grave antechamber. I’m also surprised by your decision. Did you ever take care of a child?” Julien nodded; he remembered his early childhood and the little Helga; she was younger by four years, and little Julien helped their mom often. He fed her from the baby bottle and even changed her diapers a few times. During his study, he focused on the math formulas and, if he needed it, he relaxed in forests and old ruins. The old memories almost faded out, but they still were kept deep in his mind. “If you think so, we can arrange it. We can lend you a wheelchair and recommend a caritative institution to ask for support; they could provide you with necessary advice and even some money; it will be cheaper than taking care of her directly.” The doctor called a nurse, and she brought a wheelchair, two spare diapers and a bag. Julien lifted the woman from the hospital bed and sat her to the wheelchair; she was small, tender and light. He strapped her down and wheeled her to his car. The nurse packed her dress and spare diapers into a paper bag and passed it to him. Juline lifted the woman and sat her to the passenger seat and fastened her safety belt tightly so she couldn’t slide down. The nurse showed him how to fold the wheelchair and put it into car trunk. “Thanks, nurse,” Julien smiled at her, got into the driver seat, started the engine and drove off.

Hi everyone! Here I am again, starting a new series. I have 18 chapters written and plan to post once to twice a week. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I did writing this. If you're a fan of my past stories, you can expect twists, turns and tension between the MMC and FMC. Teaser trailer: Emma Marie Rose is a cutt-throat and well-trained data thief, the top of her agency that is contracted to expose and blackmail their clients victims. She is given one assignment that she knew going in was risky, possibly the hardest assignment yet but the largest payout she'd ever see in her career. She was assigned not one, but four targets to blackmail and expose their deepest, darkest secrets. Like always, she'd plan to destroy a company from the inside out and then disappear. Little does Emma know, things would get much more complicated as she discovers her own deepest darkest secrets in the process and meets the CEO of a company who flips her world upside down. What starts as a mission of destruction quickly spirals into a high-stakes game of deceit and revelation, where Emma's own secrets threaten to unravel her carefully fabricated life as she knew it. Trigger Warnings: Mental health, ED, smut The Data Thief Chapter 1: The Assignment Emma fixed her makeup in the brightly lit marble lined bathroom, popping on her pink lip gloss and fixing her long soft wavy brunette, almost blonde hair, tied up in a ponytail with her bangs drifting messily to her left above her brow. “Gabriella Simmons, you can call me Gabby. Nice to meet you.” She said in the mirror softly, moss green eyes saying with conviction and a bright smile that was playful, maybe a hint flirtatious. Her face fell flat, her mask disappearing as she was happy with her look to go into the interview with. It was cute, girly and flirty, all to charm her hopefully soon-to-be victims. She was walking into an office full of white corporate assholes, her favorite specimen of male to cyber bully and embarrass, one by one. Some would quit. Some would deny everything she revealed of their personal chats and messages. Some would have a midlife crisis and buy an expensive car when their wives broke up with them. Emma flashed a wicked smile to herself in the mirror before swinging her purse over her shoulder, knowing she was going to quietly slow-torment an office into the fiery flames of corporate self-annihilation, just like she had many times before. She got paid a nice commission by her agency to do so and it was a rewarding job. She was the top of her agency, after all, no one was as fast nor as skilled in hacking as she was. Her targets didn’t even question or bat an eye as she tore their businesses apart, employee by employee. Emma took in a breath before leaving the bathroom, knowing this assignment was different than the rest. Usually, Emma didn't break a sweat, she barely even felt nervous. Exhilaration and excitement was all she felt yet, since the moment she was given this assignment, something felt off. Maybe it was because it was the highest commission she'd ever get on an assignment or maybe it was because her agency was losing it's star players left and right before she accepted it. She really couldn't pinpoint it and chalked it up to the higher payout which typically meant higher stakes. All she could remember vividly was when her coworker and best friend, Graham, announced this assignment and she confronted her manager about it. To say the least, that's how she ended up in this predicament as she was convinced by her boss to accept it, against her better judgement. “Emmaleeeeeesi! Here ya go, smoke show.” Graham smiled large with a mocking tone when he said ‘smoke show’ referring to what a past target called her on her prior job. He held up a file folder as Emma walked into the office with her iced coffee, passing him as she plucked the file from his hands. His soft brown eyes bouncing at the assignment. “Emmaleesi, queen of corporate fire, chaos and dragons is here, late as usual.” Bailey, her manager, muttered as she looked at her gold watch, waiting in Emma’s office as Graham followed behind. “Thank you, I will take all the compliments and bonuses that come with the title.” Emma smiled, setting down her iced coffee on her desk and dropping her bag in her desk drawer. “Your client wants to meet tomorrow at Starbucks around the corner at 9AM. Just make sure you’re on time.” Bailey said, going back to her own office, “I’m putting it in your calendar.” Graham closed the door and raised his eyebrows to Bailey, “Think the boss is mad about your tardiness.” Emma shrugged, “First off, I’m a contractor technically, not her employee. Not to mention, I was gone for 5 months on that last assignment and almost got sexually assaulted by the last target. Bailey can lay off me for a second, I didn’t ask for a higher commission. She’s lucky, considering I’m bringing in almost half of our clientele and getting her more referrals.” Graham smiled, “Bailey is dealing with losing Kiara over the weekend. I don't think it’s you.” “What happened to Kiara?” Emma asked, confused. “She got caught by her target. He found her in his files. She had to resign from our team, in case she is turned into the police for breaching private data. Worse, if her target finds out about our agency, we can get sued and exposed. Bailey is paranoid.” Emma rolled her eyes, “Well, I told Bailey that the assignment she gave Kiara was a suicide mission, hence why I didn’t even humor it. The target had fingerprint access to most of his encrypted data." Graham nodded, pausing a moment as he looked at the file on Emma’s desk, “Speaking of suicide missions…” Emma deadpanned Graham a look, “You’re not messing with me, are you?” She opened the file folder he handed her earlier and logged into her computer, looking at her email and the files Graham emailed for her new assignment. He stayed silent as she clicked through the notes, “Penn & Williams Consulting Agency, 4 targets in one office.” She scrunched her face in a cute way that if Graham was straight, he’d probably find her attractive, “What in the fuck is Bailey doing? You know what-” Emma got up, storming out of her office and across the building, passing coworkers who whispered to each other as Emma’s face was blatantly irritated. Bailey was on her phone, pushing back a stray hair in her light blonde hair into her tight pony tail. Her blue eyes widened seeing Emma storm in and close the door. “I’ll have to let you go for a moment here, Brittney.” She said goodbye and crossed her arms and looked to Emma, “Yes?” “Excuse my language, Bailey, but, what in the fuck type of assignment is this?” She held the file folder up, “I said I’m not doing suicide missions or attempting them. Thought I told you that loud and clear last time.” “It’s not a suicide mission, first off. Second off, you used to love assignments like this, why isn’t this enticing you? Thought you’d like a challenge since you’ve been taking the easiest assignments lately.” Bailey said, going to her desktop and typing an email, slightly ignoring Emma. “That was until I almost got caught a year ago, Bailey.” Emma said, her jaw tight. A silent anger bubbled in her chest, going to her neck, "And I'll have you know that last 5 month assignment was not easy in the slightest. I almost got sexually assaulted." Bailey crossed her arms with a sigh, “Well, we don’t have anyone else who could be up for this job. The target likes hiring petite and stunning mid-twenties women. No offense to our office mates, but we have too many guys on staff and mid-thirties women. It was either you or Kiara and, well, Kiara isn’t an option anymore.” Bailey said, sighing, “You have to pull your weight again, there’s not much we can do here. After this assignment you can take a month off. I’ll even throw in 10% extra.” She said, eyes sliding to Emma, knowing she was easier to persuade with time off and money. “Four targets and only ten percent? 30% extra and 6 weeks.” Emma sneered. Bailey turned to Emma, setting her hands together on the light brown desk with a sigh. After a pause of thought, she said, “20% extra and 5 weeks. Take it or leave it.” Emma stared hard at the desk wood, it wasn’t an impossible assignment… but, it was high risk. This was possibly the hardest assignment she’d ever get but could mean the biggest payout she'd ever see. “What’s the payment and contract length?” Emma asked, eyes meeting Bailey’s even stare. “400K and 6 months minimum.” Emma almost choked on air, “Who even has that type of money?” Her eyes widened. Emma got a 10% split on her assignments payouts as commission. 30% meant a whopping commission of 120K. She'd never seen a six figure payout, Bailey was desperate it seemed. Emma wouldn’t need to work for a year after that if Bailey would let her. “The client had a multi-millionaire family member pass away who owned a large company and got a considerable life insurance benefit check. She’s desperate to take down the whole company for what they did to her and heard of our work.” Bailey said, going back to her desktop, “Is that enough for you to move forward?” Emma’s mouth was dry from being open as she stood, “Sure, but-“ She shook her head, “what did the targets do to her?” What was bad enough to pay for $400,000 in revenge? That thought would keep Emma up at night, although it really wasn't her business. Bailey’s mouth fell in a line, “You’ll talk to her tomorrow.” The next day, Emma walked into Starbucks a bit hesitantly. She ordered her iced oatmilk latte and sat down in a unoccupied corner, awaiting her new client. The client walked in and Emma waved, with a friendly smile. A girl with warm brown eyes and blonde long hair walked over after getting her coffee. “Brittney, nice to meet you, uhm-“ “Gabby Simmons, nice to meet you.” Emma nodded, already in code name. This was a risky assignment and she wasn’t faltering, not even with the client. “Gabby, pleasure to meet you and no offense, but-“ She blurted, “you are just nothing like I expected.” Her brown eyes apologetic immediately following her words. Emma smiled, “You are fine, I get that all the time.” She didn’t know what it was, but a lot of clients thought she would be ugly or invisible, yet Emma was starkly visible and memorable. She had a charm to her that made her such a good asset to her assignments. She was quick-witted and undetectable, none of her clients knew what her true intentions were until she left them vulnerable and exposed. “Can I just ask a question?” Brittney asked, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. “Sure.” Emma nodded. “How did you get into this- uh, profession?” Brittney asked, curious. The girl was Emma’s age and, if not for being a client, Emma would have been friends easily with this girl. Emma licked her lips as her smile faded, “High school bullies. Sounds stupid but, ah, fuck them. They can all fuck off.” She said, with a confidence in her voice as a tinge of pain flashed in her eyes that Brittney caught. Brittney smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Only a shared sadness and sympathy reflected in Brittney’s eyes, “Then it sounds like I have the right person for this job.”

18-year-old Benjamin has just been evicted from the college dorms after he has failed out of college for the semester. He sits in the student lounge with his bags while he figures out his next moves. His former professor Megan is talking to her faculty friend and sees him sitting alone. She is confused because he is supposed to be in her class for the semester. "Hi Ben. I missed you in my class this semester. Are you okay?"

This story is a sequel of my former story Happy Family and Double R project. Allusions and references to those stories are included. Happy Family Double R project Part 1: “Mommy, are you serious? Your idea is crazy!” Ashley Compton shook her head vigorously. “Why, Ashley? I’m your mother and will do everything to make you happy,” Victoria Davis smiled at her daughter. Victoria ‘s idea really looked crazy. Ashley was barren and she desperately desired for children. However, she wouldn’t like to adopt them. Victoria offered her help, but that help was slightly unorthodox. Several mothers helped their barren daughters by carrying their children in their own womb, but Ashley was barren and didn’t have ova that could be fertilized and implanted into Victoria’s womb. Victoria’s plan was quite different. She wanted to take part in an experiment. As the Happy Family affair was over and the regression machine was confiscated by the county, experiments were running at the city university. Later, the machine was abused by the army and secret services in the scandalous Double R project. Now, the machine was still working, and a new phase of the experiments was started. Volunteers were wanted to undergo the regression. Victoria intended to apply for an experiment and get regressed and become Ashley’s child. It looked crazy indeed. “Mommy, you will become my daughter. I can’t imagine it,” Ashley still didn’t believe what she heard. “Do you know a better person than your loving mommy? I’m divorced and live alone mostly. Now I could live with you without being the troublesome mother-in-law.” “Are you not afraid of this change? You will become a toddler and probably stay a toddler forever. According to my knowledge, nobody was able to grow up except for the double-R-project victims.” “We can ask about it. Maybe there is an advance in the research.” “Okay, but I wouldn’t like to agree to your idea all alone. I think we should ask my brother at least; after all you are his mother, too.” “Right, Ashley, we can ask him first. Now tell me how you imagine my regressed form? How old should I be?” “I don’t know, mommy. Maybe two or three? I’d like to have a small child rather than start with a teenage girl. I don’t mind if you stay an eternal toddler. It is my secret dream, mom. A cute toddler is everything I long for.” “Okay, I’m also surprised by my own idea, but it is somehow attractive; it will be my second childhood. Let’s call Harry and arrange a family meeting to discuss my idea.” The next weekend, the family meeting took place. Victoria presented her idea to Harry, his wife Eileen and their three children – Charlie, Annie and Susie. Charlie, the oldest child, was 12. He was a clever boy and good student. His sister Annie was 8 and the youngest girl Susan was 3. Harry was amused by the idea and didn’t mind it at all. “I will have a niece instead of mom,” he grinned, and Eileen nodded. She was a good mother and loved her children deeply. Harry’s children reacted differently. “Daddy, we will lose our grandma,” Charlie was shocked by the idea. “We won’t lose her, Charlie,” Susan shook her little head, “she will be as little as I am,” Susie also was clever and intelligent, but she still was a little girl and accepted the change easily. “Susie, you will have a playmate,” Annie added. “Okay. Would you like to have a cousin then?” Victoria asked them that important question. “Yeah, Granny,” they answered almost unisono; Charlie hesitated for a short moment. “Well, get ready then. I will return as your new cousin soon,” she smiled at them. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Your idea sounds crazy, madam,” the lab assistant shook his head when Victoria explained her application and its reason, “but I have to agree with you. You are the first volunteer that wants to change her family relation, and your motivation is quite strong. Can you tell me your requirements? I can’t guarantee they will be fulfilled, but we will do our best.” “I’d like to become a true toddler 2 or 3 years old and start a new life as a daughter of my Ashley,” Victoria smiled at her daughter. “Does it mean you will lose your memories?” Victoria hesitated for awhile, but the idea sounded attractive. She would forget every bad experience and start a brand-new life. “Mommy, don’t worry. I will tell you everything necessary and leave out your unpleasant memories,” Ashley encouraged her mom, “you will start a true new life.” A week later, all preparations were done. Ashley equipped a nursery for her future daughter and purchased everything necessary to take car of a toddler and a few pieces of clothing; she didn’t know exactly the required size. Victoria and Ashley arrived at the university lab in the morning. The regression machine was set up already according to Victoria’s requirements: - Age about 3 - Loss of memory - Limited motoric skills - Possible grow up Victoria undressed herself, lay down on the bed and the assistant connected the wires to her body and started the regression program. She suddenly felt dizzy and the world around her grew larger. Her mind was changing as well. All her memories disappeared, and she felt incredibly happy at that moment even if she didn’t know why. A wide smile appeared on her lips. Victoria Davis was a past now; Victoria Compton was born … or reborn? “All done,” the assistant switched off the machine and disconnected all the wires from the little body, “dress your daughter and carry her to the examination room please. We need to check her health condition.” “Victoria, sweetheart, mommy will dress you now,” Ashley smiled at her new daughter. She realized Victoria had lost her memories, and she had to teach her the name and all family members first. Victoria smiled back and listened. Her mind was clean and empty. As Ashley grabbed a diaper, she instinctively lifted her behind. Her toddler mind accepted diapers and the memories of an old woman had disappeared. Now she was a little girl that knew her mommy and her name. Ashley put the diaper beneath Victoria and realized that was the first of endless diaper changes. Nevertheless, she didn’t mind it at all. Diapers belonged to the cute toddler image she longed for. She dressed Victoria in a cute dress and pair of tights and pink shoes. “Come, sweetheart, can you walk?” she asked Victoria; the little girl sat up and crawled down from the bed. Her legs seemed to be a bit weak, but she was able to walk. The assistant led them to the exam room where the doctor did a quick check. ” Mrs. Compton, congratulations to your daughter. She is a healthy 3-year-old toddler. You can take her home. Stop at our office to obtain the birth certificate. Also, I expect you with her to have another health check in two months. If you notice any issue, contact me immediately. We need feedback of our experiments.” Ashley was amused by the word ‘birth certificate’, but there was no matching document available to make Victoria her legal child. She put the little girl into a stroller and drove her to the office. As soon as she got the birth certificate, she left the university and put Victoria into a car seat and drove off. Victoria was a bit tired. The regression had been a challenge for her and her little body was exhausted. She yawned when Ashley put her into the stroller, and her eyes closed minutes later. While Ashley was carrying her to the car, she was asleep already.

Hello everyone! Long time lurker but never poster. I've mostly written D&D campaigns, but after reading so many of Elfy's stories I wanted to try my hand at one myself. English is not my first language so I hope it's not too bad. Title might be a work in progress. I have more chapters planned out but I'd like to see the reception and perhaps get some feedback if possible. Thank you! I'll also provide i link to a google docs if the formatting doesn't work. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SJRsBUVRJ00wRmzUBwhbcWuyhfvAulQgp_spXFbMGto/edit?usp=sharing Disclaimer: This story explores darker themes (see tags) that may feel unsettling. Please read at your own discretion. A Dependent Model Alicia Eriksson wasn’t your average 19-year old. She stopped measuring up to her peers several years ago…in height, anyway. Standing only about 3 feet 1 inch tall and weighing roughly 30 pounds created many vertical challenges in her life. It didn’t help that her natural, curly brown hair that gently brushed her shoulders gave her a very youthful look. She had to assert herself against many concerned mothers who tried — with good intentions — to help her out. They often thought she was a lost child while shopping in the supermarket or taking a stroll in the park. Sitting in said park Alicia scrolled through the jobsection of the local newspaper app. Across her sat the local playground, some trees, bushes and a flickering billboard that never seemed to get fixed. Alicia had tried several times to find a job. Her mother felt uncomfortable sending her to college since she believed Alicia didn’t always ‘think things through’. When she got a job, Alicia tried very hard to keep it, but her short stature proved a worthy adversary everytime, and she was fired. She tried waitressing; but constantly had to watch out or to be bumped into, which happened; a lot. She abhorred selling tickets at the cinema as people either ridiculed her or thought she was someone’s kid playing pretend. Data entering…well that was just boring really, but still! “Come on,” she said to herself with slight frustration, “Somewhere there’s bound to be a job for me. Where I don’t need to struggle all the time.” Her eyes then landed on a particular section of the app. “Huh, ‘Stars Modeling Agency now searching for new talents. Please apply by this afternoon’,” she read out loud. She pondered for a bit. “I guess it’s something I haven’t tried yet, but would they have clothes my size?” Scrunching up her face, she decided, “Well I can at the very least try. What’s the worst that could happen? Hmm, I should get there quickly before applications close.” Happy with her decision Alicia signed up for an interview on their website, wrote down the details of the place, and put them on her phone’s map. “Oh, it’s a bit across town, but closer than expected. I should be able to walk from the house and get there in 15 minutes or so. Alright, let’s get this bread!” Alicia confidently started to walk towards the Modeling Agency. Making her way across town, passing the cinema, an ice cream parlor and several houses on the way. In a small alleyway she could read out the starry sign of the agency. Inside she spotted a waiting room which was painted pastel blue, a counter with a receptionist and two other - what Alicia thought- prospective models. “Huh, weird that they are both here with their kids,” she remarked as she saw two toddlers playing with some dolls in a corner, but she didn’t pay any other attention to them. Alicia went up to the receptionist, a middle-aged woman wearing a cream-coloured cardigan. “Excuse me,” Alica said. The receptionist looked around for a bit before settling her eyes down on the diminutive woman. “I’m here for an interview with,” Alicia looked at her phone, “Sofia Juarez?” She looked at Alicia quizzically. “Hi sweetie, are you here with your mo-” “I’m here by myself, ma’am,” Alicia interrupted already knowing where the lady was going with her questions. “Here’s my ID card, I’d like to speak with Mrs. Juarez if I may?” The receptionist took Alicia’s ID and looked it over. “Well, certainly, Ms. Eriksson. Please have a seat in the meanwhile.” The woman gave Alicia back her card with an amused look on her face, but Alicia didn’t care for the woman’s expressions. Alicia grabbed a seat and started looking through her phone in the meanwhile not noticing the odd looks the other two women in the waiting room were giving her. After waiting an hour for her turn she was called into the office where Sofia Juarez was sitting. She wore business casual attire and had long raven-like hair sitting tightly in a ponytail in the back. “Ms. Eriksson?” she said with a professional tone when Alicia entered. “That’s me Mrs. Juarez. Thank you for taking your time seeing me,” Alicia said. The latina woman looked at Alicia with interest on her face. “It’s just miss for me as well. Please have seat, Ms. Eriksson, pardon if it’s not adjustable.” “I can manage it. Thank you,” Alica assured her and climbed up on the chair. “So, Ms. Eriksson,” Ms. Juarez began, “ have you ever modeled before?” “Honestly, no I have not. To be perfectly frank I’m quite jobstarved at the moment and I’m looking for any kind of opportunity I can get,” Alicia said believing that honesty would be her best bet. “I see, thank you for your candidness, Ms. Eriksson,” Ms. Juarez said and wrote some things in a document, “well we all have to start somewhere.” Alicia smiled, maybe she had a chance? “I assure you, ma’am that I’m a quick learner and even though I’m short I’ll try working really hard.” “Oh your height is of no issue, dear,” Ms. Juarez replied. “So you do carry clothes in my size? That’s very forward thinking, Ms. Juarez.” Alicia couldn’t believe the good news. “Oh yes of course. Don’t worry we have a large sortment of clothes for a woman of your stature. Now a few more questions before we conclude this interview.” Ms. Juarez proceeded to ask Alicia general questions, whether she grew up in town, where she sees herself in a few years etc. Alica answered all of Ms. Juarez’s questions to the best of her ability and looked on nervously as she looked over her clipboard, hoping her lack of experience wouldn’t be an issue. “Well Ms. Eriksson,” Ms. Juarez began, “I think Stars Agency have found their new talent.” “Really?” Alicia beamed. “Oh thank you, ma’am. I promise I won’t let you down.” The latina handed over a contract that Alicia was more than eager to sign without looking too closely at its contents. “I’m sure you will be an excellent addition to our little family, Ms. Eriksson.” “You can just call me Alicia, ma’am,” Alicia said beaming with energy. “Oh, then I insist you call me Sofia. ‘Ma’am’ makes me feel old," she said. Alica took a brief look at Sofia who appeared to be in her late 20s. “Of course, thank you for this opportunity, Sofia.” “You’re welcome, sweetie,” Sofia said with a genuine smile. The ‘sweetie’ comment didn’t even register in Alicia’s mind as she was too busy writing down her details in the contract. “So when should I start?” Alicia said eagerly. “Can you come in tomorrow Friday already? Our photographer Michelle will be available in the afternoon around three o'clock and I could give you some pointers and assist with clothing if necessary? There won’t be any other models in at that time so we could take some time for you to learn the ropes.” Alicia thought it seemed a little odd that the hiring manager would help with clothing, but maybe Sofia was a ‘hands-on’ type of person. Yet that thought did nothing to damper her mood. “Tomorrow afternoon three o'clock, I will be there!” Alica said, hopping off the chair. “Excellent, well Alicia I will see you then. And again, welcome to the family.” Alicia felt like she traveled on air while going back home. Even an inexperienced model could earn a lot in comparison to other professions at the current job market and she couldn’t wait to earn some money to increase her independency. I mean it’s not like living with mom is a bad thing, but a girl gotta spread her wings, right? She thought to herself as she passed the trees in the park with the flimmering billboard acting up as usual. Alicia paused for a bit to take in the nice summer’s breeze. “From here on out my life is going to change,” she said before continuing back to her house.

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Turn Greg and Sam had been married for five years, and their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Their relationship was built on mutual respect, trust, and a deep emotional connection. They had always been adventurous in the bedroom, exploring each other's desires and fantasies. But lately, Greg had been feeling a growing urge to surrender to Sam's dominance, He couldn't quite explain it, but the thought of being controlled and guided by his wife sent shivers down his spine. Sam had noticed this on a few occasions in the bedroom and realized the excitement it brought for her. She wanted to push this dynamic further, the thought of it bringing intense arousal. One night as they made love, Greg found himself trying to nudge Sam's head down, hinting that he wanted her to give him oral pleasure. But Sam had other plans. She gently kissed him, her lips brushing against his, and then pushed him down, her hands firm but gentle on his shoulders. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized she was taking charge. He complied, his body responding to her touch as he sank down onto the bed. Sam stood on her knees, towering over Greg as he positioned himself on all fours. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with anticipation, and Greg could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sam's eyes locked onto his, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. Without a word, Sam directed Greg's head to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, offering them to him like a gift. Greg's lips closed around her nipple, and he began to suckle, feeling a sense of comfort and security wash over him. Sam's hands guided his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him in place. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the moment. As they lingered there, Sam's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the curve of Greg's spine. She pushed him down, her touch gentle but insistent, until his face was inches from her vagina. Greg's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she wanted. He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation, but his desire for her overrode any doubts. Sam's eyes never left his as she began to thrust against him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Greg's tongue danced across her skin, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. He was lost in the sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the scent and feel of her. Time seemed to slow down, and all that existed was the two of them, lost in this intimate dance. As they moved together, Sam's voice whispered in his ear, "Stick your fingers inside me, Greg. Taste me." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he complied, his fingers sliding into her warmth. The sensation was electrifying, and he felt himself becoming even more aroused. But Sam wasn't done yet. She took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, and guided his thumb into her. Greg felt a jolt of surprise, but before he could react, Sam locked eyes with him and pushed his thumb into his mouth. The sensation was shocking, yet strangely erotic. Greg's mind reeled as he sucked his own thumb, the taste of Sam's arousal mingling with his own. As Greg's thumb slid into his mouth, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, one that made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But despite his initial hesitation, he couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that coursed through his veins. He was turned on, and he knew it. Sam seemed to sense his conflicted emotions, and she smiled to herself as she kept his thumb in place. She gently laid him down on his back, her hands guiding him onto the softness of the bed. Greg felt himself sinking into the mattress, his body relaxed and open to her touch. As he lay there, Sam straddled his face, her thighs spreading wide as she positioned herself above him. She began to gyrate, her hips moving in a slow, sensual circle as she rubbed herself against the back of his hand while he sucked his thumb. He mound forcing it into his mouth while he tasted her juice. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the rhythm of her movements. Sam's eyes never left his, her gaze burning with a fierce intensity as she watched him. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he gazed up at her. She knew he was turned on, and she was determined to take him to the edge. As she moved above him, Sam reached down and wrapped her fingers around Greg's cock. She stroked him gently, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "Come for me, baby," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire. "Let go and come for me." Greg felt himself building towards a climax, his body tensing as he strained towards release. And then, in a burst of sensation, he exploded, his semen spilling out onto his stomach as he cried out in pleasure. Sam smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him come. She leaned forward, her body pressing down onto his as she wrapped her arms around him. Greg felt himself being pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, and he let himself relax into her touch. As they lay there, Greg realized that he was still sucking his thumb, the digit still lodged in his mouth. He felt a surge of embarrassment, and he quickly pulled it out, his face flushing with heat. Sam noticed his reaction, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. Greg felt himself blush even deeper, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He knew he was in this now, and he was excited to see where it would lead. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Greg couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He felt more vulnerable, more open, and more connected to Sam than he had in a long time. And as he looked up at her, he knew that he was ready to explore this new dynamic, to see where it would take them and what secrets they would uncover along the way. Chapter 2: A Night of Reckoning As the days went by, Greg and Sam had repeated the scenario that had started with his thumb a few times, but they had also fallen back into their routine. It was as if they had dipped their toes into a new world, but then retreated back to the comfort of their familiar dynamic. However, the memory of that first night lingered, and Greg couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between them. One night, as they lay in bed after a lovely dinner and a bottle of wine, Greg found himself spooning with Sam, his head resting on her chest. She was looking down at him, her eyes gazing at his peaceful expression. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light on their skin. As they lay there, Greg started to nudge his head into Sam's breasts, his lips brushing against her shirt. She smiled to herself, recognizing the subtle cue. She began to tease him, moving her breasts slightly, just out of reach, and then pulling him in closer. The game was on, and Greg's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the sensation. Sam's hands gently pulled her shirt down, exposing her breasts to Greg's eager lips. He latched onto one, sucking gently, and Sam felt a surge of pleasure. She transferred him to the other breast, and as he sucked, she felt his hand moving, his fingers brushing against her skin. She guided his hand down, her fingers intertwining with his, until they reached her vagina. Greg's fingers slid inside her, and Sam felt a wave of excitement. She was already wet, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. As he fingered her, she began to move her hips, her body responding to his touch. The sensation built, and soon she was coming, her body trembling with pleasure. As she came down from her climax, Sam realized that Greg was hard, his erection pressing against her leg. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of dominance wash over her. She was in control, and he was responding to her every move. With a gentle touch, Sam took Greg's thumb and ran it through her juices, the sticky liquid coating his skin. She then slowly nudged his hand near her breasts, her eyes locked onto his. Greg pretended not to notice, but Sam knew he was aware of her intent. She kept nudging his hand, her touch insistent, until he finally looked up at her with sad eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. Sam's heart swelled with emotion, and she felt a deep connection to Greg. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and kissed his forehead. With a gentle but firm touch, she pushed his thumb into his mouth. Greg's eyes widened, and he started sucking, his lips closing around his thumb. Sam whispered into his ear, "Good boy...such a good boy." Her words sent shivers down his spine, and he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. As he sucked his thumb, Sam reached down and touched his cock through his boxer shorts. The touch was electrifying, and Greg felt himself coming, his semen spilling out into his pants. The sensation was intense, and he was taken aback by the sudden release. Sam was surprised, too, as it had never happened before. Greg's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment as he looked up at her. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth, his eyes downcast. Sam's voice was soothing and mocking at the same time, "Oopsie, so excited you had a little accident! What a good boy you are for me, but someone might need a little protection next time, don't worry, I'll take care of you baby." Greg didn't quite understand what she meant, but he felt a sense of reassurance wash over him. As they lay there, Greg's eyelids began to droop, his body relaxing into sleep. As he fell asleep. Sam slid his hand that was on the pillow back towards his mouth, and in his sleepiness he accepted it, his thumb slipping back into his lips. He fell asleep, his body trusting and vulnerable. Sam looked at him, her heart full of love and affection. She realized how much she loved this new dynamic, this sense of dominance and control. She thought about how she would need to buy some items for him, to help him feel more comfortable and secure in his new role. As she gazed at Greg, she knew that their relationship was about to take a dramatic turn, one that would bring them even closer together. Chapter 3: Morning After Greg woke up to an empty bed, his thumb still lodged in his mouth. As he slowly came to, the events of the previous night flooded back to him. He quickly removed his thumb, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relaxation. He had slept better than he remembered, but the memory of his actions made his face flush with heat. As he sat up, he noticed the dampness between his legs and the slight cold wetness on the bed underneath his crotch, from his "accident" the night before. His embarrassment deepened, and he couldn't help but think about Sam's statement from the night before - "someone might need a little protection next time." He wondered why she had said that, especially since they hadn't used condoms since before they were married. Greg quickly got out of bed and headed to the shower, trying to wash away the lingering feelings of embarrassment. As he stood under the warm water, he couldn't shake off the thought of Sam's words and the way she had looked at him. He felt like he was losing himself in this new dynamic, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. After his shower, Greg made his way to the kitchen, where he found Sam already preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation. As he entered the kitchen, Sam turned around with a bright smile, holding up a plate of Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chips. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I made your favorite breakfast." Greg's eyes widened as he took in the spread before him. "Wow, you didn't have to go to all that trouble," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sam chuckled and handed him a glass of milk. "I know what my baby likes," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "And I want to make him happy." Greg's face flushed as he took the glass, noticing that Sam had made herself a more adult breakfast - scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, and fruit. "You're not having pancakes?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from himself. Sam smiled and sat down across from him. "No, I think I'll stick to something a bit more... substantial," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, I know what my baby really likes, and it's not just pancakes." He could tell she was insinuating about the night before. As they ate, Sam couldn't help but tease Greg about his sleepiness. "You were so cute when you were sleeping," she cooed, her voice dripping with affection. "I loved watching you. And I have to say, I was a bit surprised by your... little accident." Greg's face turned bright red as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. "Shh, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to change the subject. But Sam just laughed and reached out to run her thumb across the table over his lips. "It's okay, baby," she said. "It's nice to see you relaxing in new ways." Greg stared at her quizzically wondering why she was doing this? He could see the joy in her eyes. Sam looked at him and mocked putting her thumb in her mouth with fake sucking noise from her pursed lips, and a pouty face, and batted her eyes. Then laughed and winked at him. "You're learning to let go baby, and that's all that matters." Greg felt like he was going to die from embarrassment. He tried to change the subject again, but in his embarrassed haste, he accidentally knocked over his glass of milk, spilling it all over his lap. Sam rushed over to clean up the mess, laughing and reassuring him that it was okay. "Accidents keep happening, don't they?" she said with a wink. "Maybe you're not ready for a big boy cup yet." Greg's face was on fire as he sat there, his pants stained with milk. He felt like a child, and Sam's words only made him feel more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam," he muttered, trying to apologize. But Sam just smiled and patted his hand. "Don't worry, baby," she said. "I'll figure it out. I'll help you get back into dry pants." Her phrasing made him blush for some reason. As they finished their breakfast, Greg couldn't help but think about how different Sam had been treating him lately. She was more playful, more affectionate, and more... dominant. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this new dynamic, but a part of him was excited to see where it would lead. As they finished their meal, Sam leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was thinking about how to push her plan to the next level, how to help Greg surrender to his desires and become the submissive partner she knew he could be. And as she looked at him, she smiled to herself, knowing that she had already made significant progress. The question was, how far would he be willing to go? Chapter 4: Surrender A few days had passed since Sam had received the mysterious packages, and Greg had no idea what was in store for him. That night, as they sat on the couch watching the fire, Sam was wearing a luxurious silk bathrobe, while Greg was dressed in a pair of childish pajamas that seemed to foreshadow the events that were about to unfold. They had shared a couple of glasses of wine, and the conversation had slowed down, with Greg eventually laying his head down on Sam's lap. As the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Sam's lap washed over him, Greg felt his eyelids growing heavy. But Sam had other plans. She slowly began to work his hand towards his mouth, her fingers gently guiding his. Greg resisted at first, knowing what she was trying to do, but Sam was insistent. She rubbed his crotch through his pajamas, the touch waking him up with arousal. "Come on, baby," she whispered, her voice trying to stay calm but loaded with desire. "Just relax. It's okay." Greg tried to hold strong, but a part of him wanted to give in. He was torn between his desire to surrender and his fear of what this meant for their relationship. As he looked up at Sam, he saw the determination in her eyes, and he knew he was no match for her. Tears began to form in his eyes as he felt himself weakening. Sam's fingers were like a gentle vice, guiding his hand towards his mouth. He shook his head, trying to resist, but Sam just nodded hers, her eyes locked onto his. "It's okay, baby," she cooed. "Everything will be alright. Just trust me." With a sob, Greg gave in, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Instantly, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him, as if he had finally surrendered to a desire he had been fighting for so long. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "You're so good, baby," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you." As Greg sucked his thumb, Sam maneuvered his head into her crotch, her silk bathrobe parting to reveal her nakedness. Greg's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't wearing any panties, and his face burned with embarrassment. Sam's pushed off the couch so he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, her hands guided his head, pushing him into her extremely wet crotch, her pussy pressing against the back of his hand. For minutes, Greg sucked his thumb, his body frozen in a mix of shame and desire. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "Do you want to taste it, good boy?" she asked, her voice husky with desire. Greg looked up at her, his eyes sad and tear-filled. He nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. Sam's fingers guided his thumb into her vagina, pulling it out and letting him suck again. She repeated this process several times, each time pushing Greg further into his submission. Finally, she let him eat her out, his mouth sucking away at her pussy as she came in a huge orgasm. Greg's face was buried in her crotch, she returned his thumb to his mouth as, as he felt her body shudder with pleasure. When she was done, Sam leaned back, her chest heaving with exertion. "Are you ready for yours, baby?" she asked, her voice seemed to gain new excitement. Greg looked up at her, his eyes still sad, but he nodded. Sam smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. Sam sounding like a child on Christmas morning said, "I bought something for you! I've noticed how you've been deciding to relax, I think this will help you." She pulled out a large white pacifier, an exact replica of a babies binky but bigger, from her pocket, and Greg's eyes widened in shock. "No, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to reject it. But Sam just shook her head and made an "Ssh" sign over her mouth. He looked in awe as she moved the binky down between her legs and pressed the pacifier into her pussy coating it with her juices. She quickly forced it in Greg's mouth. He tried to resist with his lips, but she persisted and cooed, "Be my good boy for me baby. Make me happy seeing you relax." Greg didn't know what to do and finally accepted it with a pouty look. He immediately started sucking the same as his thumb he was now used to. his face red and mind reeling with embarrassment and shame, the familiar taste of her juices calmed him. Sam led him to the bedroom, stripping him down as they went. "My baby seems more excited than ever," she cooed, her eyes glinting with amusement. Greg was ready for intercourse, but instead, Sam went to the closet and pulled out a pair of childish underpants with designs on them. He couldn't believe there was more to this. When had she bought these things? How long had she been planning this? Greg's embarrassment had never been higher, and he felt like he was going to cry looking at the garmet. "I don't want any accidents, baby," Sam said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You need to wear these to protect yourself." "No sam, this is too much" he tried to say from behind the pacifier, weakly attempting to stand. She pushed him back down, readjusting the pacifier and said. "Please baby, you need this, just enjoy yourself." He could tell from her voice how much she wanted him to follow through... he laid back consenting. She couldn't believe it, her heart raced with the realization that he would allow this. Greg's face burned with shame as Sam pulled the underwear up, the fabric feeling different, more padded than normal underwear. He had a new shock realizing that these were like the potty training underwear kids wear, designed for people who can't make it to a toilet. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red. Sam rubbed his crotch, her fingers sending shivers down his spine. "You're such a good boy," she cooed. "I'm so proud of you." It only took seconds for Greg to come in his pants, the sensation of the underwear and Sam's touch sending him over the edge. Sam praised him, her voice whispering words of encouragement as she laid with him, holding him close. Greg feeling extremely tired now, moved to pull out the pacifier. Sam brushed his hand away and spooned with him, she moved her hand up to the binky gently holding it in place. Greg glanced at her realizing he wanted him to keep it in. He was too tired to think through her intentions or put up any fight and his eyelids drooped. As Greg fell asleep, the pacifier still in his mouth, rhythmically sucking, Sam thought about how amazing this felt. She had never felt so in control, so dominant. And as she looked at Greg, she knew that she could go further, push him even deeper into his submission. The question was, how far would he be willing to go?

“Ossccaarrrr,” Mommy's gentle voice called out from the driver seat of the car, but Oscar didn't hear her. His mind was too occupied, too focused on the variety of stimuli sources at his disposal as his mouth remained eagerly fixated on his favorite binky. His hands gently caressed the soft, plush fur of his oversized Teddy who he held gently in his arms as he watched some Youtube on the iPad that hung from the seat in front of him. His oversized, adult car seat provided ample comfort, holding his nearly empty sippy cup in one of its cupholders, as well as a scattered variety fidget toys at his disposal in its various remaining pockets. The heavily tinted windows, and addition of a screen to block out the sun, gave him all the peace of mind he needed to ensure that no one could see in, ultimately creating one of his favorite spots to indulge in himself. “Oscar, sweetie,” Her voice called out again, this time nearly catching his attention as he gently pushed his Teddy into the soft cotton padding of his training pants continuously. “Oscar, baby!” She finally called out, much louder as he reached up to pause his video. “‘es Mommy?” He asked from behind his pacifier, further pushing his Teddy against his privates before refocusing his attention on grabbing his sippy cup. “We're almost home baby, can you help Mommy by getting your pants on?” He let the pacifier fall from his mouth and into his lap, lifting the remaining contents of the sippy cup to his mouth as he nodded, using his free hand to reach for the sweat pants he'd tossed to the side. Long car rides had become a norm for them, of which Oscar almost always removed his pants. Oftentimes he’d even remove his shirt as he enjoyed the feeling of being free, keeping just his training pants on as he'd let himself unwind. Their small town certainly had the essentials, but Mommy often liked to go on bigger shopping trips, or spend time in the suburbs that offered much more exciting things to do. But Oscar never minded. “Thank you, sweetie,” She said in her baby voice, watching him from the rear view as he placed the pacifier back in his mouth before starting to pull his feet through the leg holes of his sweatpants. “Mommy was thinking of inviting Mr. Addison over tonight too,” She asked, a slight tinge of hesitation in her voice as she turned down the main street into their neighborhood. “Is that okay?” Oscar nodded, having already expected as much as he’d been spending more and more time with him and Mommy. Mr. Addison had lived just down the street and divorced several years back. He'd hit it off with Mommy not long after and embraced their unique lifestyle, a plus for Mommy that helped to immensely balance out the give and take aspect of their relationship which Oscar had admittedly taken advantage of early on. “I was thinking he might even spend the weekend?” She asked hopefully, looking back at Oscar through the rear view as he non discretely started to rub against his Teddy again. “Okay, Mommy,” He said, pulling his iPad off the back of the seat as he tried to help gather a few of his things as she pulled into the driveway. “You got everything?” Mommy asked, turning back in the seat to look at him. “Uhh- no, heh,” He said, struggling to get everything into his arms having yet to even unbuckle himself. “Here,” She said, holding out her purse as she held it open. “Dump your toys and stuff in here,” Oscar did as he was told, putting his smaller items in her purse leaving him with just his Teddy and iPad as he undid the buckle. “Take those inside, but then come help Mommy with the groceries,” She said, hitting the button to open his door. Oscar scrambled out of his seat, lugging his oversized Teddy with him as he quickly made his way inside the house to drop them off, quickly followed by Mommy and her radiant smile. “Teddy will be just fine on his own for a few minutes,” She teased as Oscar hesitantly set him down. He smiled, giving a light jog back towards the car as he scooped up as any bags on his arms as he could carry before stumbling back to the house. “Wow,” Mommy cooed. “Such a strong boy for Mommy!” He smiled, beaming with pride as he set the bags on the counter, completely caught off guard as Mr. Addison entered through the door behind them. “Guess whos here!” He called out. “Ah! Hey Hun!” She said, running to his side to greet him with a big kiss. “Hi, Daddy,” Oscar said with a smile of his own, a name he'd only started calling Mr. Addison in the past few weeks. “Did you have a fun trip?” He asked in a childish voice, coming over to give Oscar a big hug. Oscar nodded, embracing the hug as Mr. Addison gave him a tight squeeze before Oscar let go and quickling returned to his Teddy’s side. “I gotta poddy,” Oscar said, a little red in the face as he retrieved his binky. “Yea? Do you want to use the big boy potty?” Mr. Addison asked in a coddling voice, reaching for Oscar's hand as he held his Teddy in the other. Oscar shook his head. “Alright, buddy. You wait right here,” Mr. Addison said, giving a playful head shake to Mommy as Oscar twirled back and forth. “What do you want for dinner, sweetie?” Mommy asked from the kitchen, putting the last of the bags away as she opened the freezer. “Mommy and Daddy are gonna catch a movie tonight, so it's going to be an early bedtime for you,” “Wha’!” Oscar pouted, looking towards his Mommy. “I know, sweetie. That's why you get to have whatever you want for dinner,” She said. A smile slipped through Oscar's face, knowing he'd always ask for his usual but still liked that she’d ask anyways. “Alright, buddy,” Mr. Addison said, returning with a training potty that he set in the middle of the room. “But no Teddy during potty time,” He said, holding out his hand. “Bu’,” Oscar started to protest. “Nuh uh, you know the rules,” Mr Addison quickly shot back, still holding out his hand. “What are they?” “No ‘oys on da poddy,” Oscar responded quietly, reluctantly giving up his Teddy before pulling his pants down and off as he tossed them to the side before doing the same with his shirt. “Except for that cute little binky,” Daddy said, giving his nose a playful wiggle as he smiled. “Also, what is it with his hate for clothes?” Mr. Addison asked teasingly. “Do you want your usual, baby?” Mommy asked, already pulling the dino nuggets out of the freezer before reaching for a box of Mac and cheese. “Yes, pwease!” Oscar shouted, dropping his training pants as he sat on his toilet, his nicely groomed privates on display for both Mommy and Daddy. “Mr. Teddy will be right here when you're done,” Mr. Addison said, gently resting his Teddy on one of the bar stools facing Oscar. “Dank you, Daddy,” Oscar said, his bladder releasing into the training toilet as the audible stream echoed through the room. “Shouldn't you feed him something a little healthier?” Mr. Addison teased, wrapping his arms around Mommy from behind as she arranged the dino nuggets on a baking tray. “Well the day you want to tell him he has to eat his vegetables and go to bed early is the day we can start that,” She said, turning around as they started to kiss. Oscar watched from across the room as Mr. Addison quickly made a romantic moment out of thin air, something he'd always struggled to do. Though something he was good at was ruining it as he let a loud fart loose, echoing in his potty as the squelching sound of his primary business flooded the room as he made his poopies in the potty. “Still happy he calls you Daddy?” Mommy asked with a smirk, watching him realize the source of the sound. “Trade you potty duty for bedtime duty,” He smirked, knowing his odds were slim. “Not a chance,” She said, bopping him on the nose before turning to slide the nuggets into the oven. “There's some wipes in my purse,” “Alright, bud. Ready to wipe?” Mr. Addison asked, opening up the pack of baby wipes as he held them out for Oscar to reach. Oscar grabbed one, running the cool wipe across his butt before dropping it into the potty. “Oh no, get in there, Mr,” Mommy called from across the room. “Last time you left the wiping to him he had a big old skid mark on his undies,” “The boys gotta learn,” He teased. “Then show him how,” Mommy retorted. He reluctantly grabbed another wipe, tracing it down Oscar's crack, giving a good few circles around Oscar's laxed hole as he playfully teased him before a second pass. Mr. Addison had certainly entered their lives for Mommy, but had taken an unexpected interest in Oscar after a few months of the relationship. Though Oscar was certainly his second choice, usually only paying special attention to him when Mommy wasn't in the mood or was on her period. “Danks, Daddy,” Oscar said cutely, willing to make Mr. Addison's simple fantasies of oral come true, though they had pushed thei relationship a little further in recent months. He quickly got up, pulling his dino training pants back up as he ran to his Teddy, grabbing him off the bar stool before running towards the stairs. “Dinners in 15!” Mommy called out as his butt disappeared up the stairs. She shook her head, always in disbelief with how much energy he managed to retain throughout the day as she looked at Mr. Addison with a smile. “What time’s our reservation?” “6:30,” Mr. Addison said, returning to her side as he kissed her on the neck. “Wow, we're really giving him an early bedtime,” Mommy chuckled, embracing his further advancing kisses as he worked his way down her neck. “Good thing I'm not on the bedtime routine,” Mr. Addison teased as the oven's timer went off. “Speaking of your duties,” She joked, turning around to give him a peck on the lips before gesturing towards the potty. Oscar remained upstairs, a space that had been almost entirely transformed into his. The two bedrooms upstairs exited into a den or sorts, which had been stocked with a TV and various game consoles on top of a large media cabinet that housed his bins of toys. Two large bean bags sat propped on the floor next to his Lego table where a massive city project grew bigger by the month. His bedroom resembled that of a toddlers, the light blue walls decorated with a series of clouds and rolling hills. His twin sized bed had rails on all sides, not tall enough to trap any actual adult but tall enough to help sell the illusion as piles of stuffed animals and loose toy cars covered the ground. Colorful art prints of cute animals covered the walls with the occasional drawing or two of his that Mommy insisted on hanging on his walls as a way to further embarrass him. A small shelf in the corner contained a loose stack of diapers, of which he'd been able to avoid for months now. The second room on the other hand was still mostly just storage, the junk room in the house where things without a place wound up as Oscar tried to dream up the perfect use for the space. “Oscar!” Mommy called up the stairs as he sat in one of the beanbags, his attention fully focused on his game he'd been watching videos on the whole car ride home, his pacifier very much in place as his Teddy provided a place to rest his hands. “Oscar! Dinner!” Mr. Addison shouted, catching Oscars attention as he paused his game, picking up his Teddy as he ran back down the stairs. “I'll take that,” Mr. Addison said, quickly taking the loosely held Teddy as Oscar jumped up into his seat. “Uhuh- hold on buddy,” Mommy said, pulling the plastic plate with small dividers to separate his nuggets, Mac and cheese and BBQ dipping sauce. “Where's your shirt?” “Uh- I don't know,” He said, pulling his pacifier out as he set it on the counter giving a half hearted attempt to look around. She sighed, smiling as she opened one of the drawers to pull out one of his baby bibs. “I don't need that!” He protested. “Yes, you do,” She insisted, circling the island to secure it around his neck. “We're not gonna have time for a bath tonight so I can't have you making yourself all sticky!” He pouted, leaning over the counter to grab his plate as he pulled it closer. “What do you want to drink, sweetie?” Mommy asked, grabbing a sippy cup from the cabinet as she opened the fridge. “Milkies, pwease,” He said, diving one of his nuggets into the BBQ sauce as he devoured it. “What movie are you guys seeing?” “I’m not sure,” Mommy said. “Daddy said it's a surprise,” Mr. Addison gave her a playful wink, holding Oscar’s Teddy over the counter, playfully rubbing his crotch against it from behind to signal his plans for Mommy. “Oh stop it,” She said flustered, sliding the sippy cup of milk to Oscar who shared a smile, knowing that his plans were very much the same for his Teddy. He scarfed down his food as they made their way in and out of the master bedroom in their attempt to get ready. “All done!” Oscar announced, getting up to grab his Teddy. “Good job, sweetie,” Mommy said. “Can you brush your teeth for Mommy?” “I haven't finished my milk,” He said, gesturing towards the still mostly full sippy cup. “That's fine, sweetie. You can take it upstairs with you,” She said. “Come brush your teeth in Mommys bathroom,” Oscar scuttled after her, passing Mr. Addison who was busy tying his tie, his nicely fit suit catching Oscar’s attention as he passed. “Think you can handle it from here?” Mommy asked as Oscar reached for his toothbrush on the counter. “Mhmm,” He said proudly, opening the drawer to pull out his childish toothpaste as he squeezed a generous amount onto the head of the brush. He quickly brushed, listening to Mommy and Daddy’s slight giggles in the room as he waited for the built in timer on his electric toothbrush to turn off, signaling he’d done enough. “Almost done, bud?” Mr. Addison asked, suddenly appearing in his full suit as Oscar found himself in slight awe. “Uhh-” He let out, feeling as though the timer should have been up as he clicked the brush off himself, spitting into the sink as he turned the water on. “Uh huh,” Mr. Addison smirked, ruffling his hair as Oscar leaned over the sink to wash his mouth out. “I’ll let that slide this time,” He chuckled. “Are you ready for bed then?” Oscar nodded, wiping his mouth as he looked back at Mr. Addison, feeling a sense of emotion that usually only Mommy had triggered. He’d never been explicitly gay or bi in any way, though he’d realized he wasn’t straight early on, just never bothered to put a label on exactly what it was. “Right,” Mommy said, stepping into the bathroom as Oscar stared dumbfoundingly at Daddy. “Just got to put this one-” She stopped, looking at Daddy who couldn’t help but puff out his chest as she smiled. “This one to bed,” She continued, her smile growing as she reached for Oscar’s hand. Oscar complied, following after Mommy as he turned to look back at Daddy as they darted around the corner, quickly making their way up to his bedroom. She pulled the covers over him, tightly tucking him in though she knew he’d quickly throw the sheets all about. “I love you, sweetie,” She said softly, leaning in to give him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you,” Oscar said clutching his Teddy tightly. She smiled, getting up as she dimmed the lights to his room, exposing the glowing stars on the ceiling as she gently closed the door. Oscar tossed about, loosening the covers as he reached for his iPad on the nightstand, propping it against a pillow as he opened up Youtube and settled in. The time passed quickly, eventually striking 8pm as his iPad went black, returning to the lockscreen as the parental controls set in indicating his usual bedtime. He tossed the iPad to the side, its durable case taking the brunt of it as it tumbled to the floor, though not his intent. Admittedly, he enjoyed nights with an early bedtime more and more as they were Mommy and Daddy's way of turning a blind eye, letting him play with himself and explore his own interests further without any repercussions. He rolled over, readjusting his Teddy as he began to rub his pee pee with his free hand, running small circles from the outside his soft cotton training pants, quickly replacing it with that of his Teddy’s. He slipped the soft, plush arm deeper inside his panties as he rubbed his stiffening member knowing that he'd be fast asleep in a pair of crusty training pants in no time. Did you enjoy the story? Consider supporting my work over on SubscribeStar! Or be sure to let me know what you thought by interacting with the post!

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

Chapter 1: Bad Management The full moon cast its silvery glow over the city, illuminating the darkened streets and casting an air of mystique over the strip clubs that lined them. It was a night like any other at "Little Miracles Gentlemen's Club," but for Maya, it was about to become one she would never forget. As she prepared for her shift, Maya couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness, a feeling that had been building inside her all week. It all started a few weeks back. She started noticing that some of the other girls were getting more tips than her. They all had one thing in common. Their boobs were at least two cup sizes bigger than hers. Their bras would get all padded up but with dollar bills instead of tissue paper. Frustrated, Maya started looking into some options outside of surgery that might help. She knew Halloween was coming up soon, and there's no better time of the year for something magical to happen, especially after hearing about a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event happening where the Earth was going to have two moons for the month of October. If magic was real, then this had to be the time to try it. Maya took some time researching different spell books and manuscripts in her free time in between classes at the local university. Everything she found seemed foolish and like it wouldn't work, but there was one spell. One ritual that came up more than any other. She hated the idea of doing it, but it was worth a shot; what was the worst that could happen? Feel like an idiot for a few days, and end up exactly where she is, with modest B sized breasts. Reluctantly, Maya collected everything she needed and proceeded to recite the incantation each day before she had to go to her shift, hoping that by the time she got there, her boobs would be big enough to steal the show for the night. She had only managed to try the spell for two days, with nothing to show for it. She hoped tonight would be different. It was her third try; the moon was full, and that second moon was clearly visible in the night sky. The only problem was that she was running late. She had fallen asleep while studying for her next test and hadn’t realized how much time had passed. In a frantic panic, Maya ran to her bathroom and quickly threw off her shirt. She wanted to examine her breasts to see if there had been any change, but she had no time. “Shit! How did I let this happen?” She ripped off her bra, grabbed the large jar on her counter, and proceeded to smother her boobs in the slimy substance. “This is so gross.” She grimaced. Even using this stuff the last two days didn't help prepare her for it today. Keeping it at room temperature made her skin want to crawl as the coolness touched her sensitive areas. Regardless of her feelings, she had no time to waste. Maya grabbed her cheap throwaway bra and threw on a baggy sweatshirt. Just because she worked at a strip club didn’t mean she was going to wear a party dress to work—anything to get less attention from potential creeps on her way to, or from work. She ran down her shared apartment stairs to get in her beat-up car. Even though it was old, it was reliable. "Please let it work tonight. I really need this. Tuition is due next week." Maya sped down the street roads, keeping her eyes on a close lookout for any cops. The last thing she needed was a speeding ticket or some sort of traffic violation. Even though she had a nice ass, that wasn't about to do her any good if she got pulled over. If she at least had a nice rack, she might be able to get away with a warning, but not in her current state. She was in a sweatshirt and had stuff all over them. At best, they might let her off out of pity. Luckily, she was able to get to the club without issues. Maya was grateful she managed to make it here without further delay and was only two minutes late for clocking in. She grabbed her purse, and was about to beline it into the club, when she saw herself in the rearview mirror. She still had to cast the spell if the enlargement was going to work. "Fuck!" She was already late, but not casting the spell would have meant she smothered her boobs for no reason. Begrudgingly, she pulled out her phone and went to the notes app, where she had the spell written out. She took a deep breath, hoping this would work, and began reading it out loud. If she were lucky, maybe they would grow in the middle of the show and get the boys all worked up. "By moonlight's gentle glow, I call upon the power of the goddess. Milk of the Moon, flow into my breasts, Attracting nourishment and growth with every kiss. Honey of Attraction, sweeten my form, Drawing love and beauty to my heart's core. Essence of Goddess, infuse me with your might, Breast Nourishment Powder, make me a beautiful sight." Maya looked at herself in the rearview mirror again and smiled at herself. "Here goes nothing." Even through all the stress of being late, she knew she was going to give the boys the best show that night. At the bare least, she would get any newbies drilling over her ass. She got out of her car, and ran over to the door. "Hey, Frank." She greeted the bouncer. "You're late. I was beginning to worry." the tall man stood at the door, opening it for her to enter. "Sorry about that; fell asleep studying." Maya had always appreciated Frank. He was intimidating, but to her and the rest of the girls, he was like a giant teddy bear. "You got this kid. But I can't keep covering for you. You can tell Dameon that you got caught by a creeper and needed a hand." Frank had been covering for Maya for the last few weeks. He knew Maya was struggling with finals coming up and that the final payment would be required soon. Anyone would. But he couldn't fault the girl. She was trying to do something with her future, and this job was just a means to an end. "Thanks." Maya blushed, rushing into the club. She liked Frank like a big brother, but any time he called her "kid" or "kiddo" it made her feel like she was his little sister. She knew she was an adult, and could manage on her own, but with the stress of everything, she really had doubts some days. Finally, in the back room, Maya wasted no time clocking in, throwing off her clothes, and getting ready. She noticed on the schedule next to the punch-in clock that her name was on the board. She had a lap dance scheduled in the next ten minutes. She couldn't believe Dameon would allow one to get put on the schedule within fifteen minutes of her shift starting. It almost felt like he wanted her to lose a regular. "You know that stuff isn't going to work, right? Why are you still bothering with it, it looks, and smells disgusting." Sunny retorted, looking at Maya's smothered breasts. "Nice to see you too, Sunny." Maya knew she was only poking fun, even if it was a little hurtful. Sunny's breasts were easily a D, which meant Maya stood no chance of getting extra tips tonight. Not if Sunny's breasts were going out before her, and having a lap dance first thing meant her fate was sealed. Maya removed her old bra, tossing it in the trash, knowing that if it didn't work tonight, it wasn't going to work. She reached over for the pack of baby wipes the dancers shared for cleaning up in between shows, wiping away the ointment she laid on her breasts before leaving. She then found the costume she usually wore for lap dances and dawned it. A red lacy pushup bra, anything to help make her breasts more perky, and a red matching thong. She hoped that Marcus brought plenty of spare cash tonight. Stepping behind the curtain to enter the private rooms, Maya was stunned by what she saw. It wasn't Marcus—no, it was a woman. She wore a full-length dress colored in dark gray and lifeless hues. "I take it you are Maya. The slut who's been stealing my husband." The woman angrily pointed her finger in an accusative manner. Maya stood stunned. She wasn't expecting tonight to go like this. "Well! What do you have to say for yourself? Do you know you are ruining families?" Even though the woman was angry, Maya couldn't feel too intimidated by her; she was easily six to eight inches shorter than her. "Listen, lady, I don't even know who you are." "I'm Marcus's wife. I bet you didn't even know he was married, did you?" "Plenty of guys that come in here are married." Maya couldn't help herself by crossing her arms over her breasts. She couldn't believe this woman had the nerve to yell at her like this. Practically naked, in just her underwear, with nothing to cover herself. The whole thing made her feel small, even if she knew she was physically bigger. "So you admit it, you know you are ruining marriages." The woman leaned back on her heels. It was clear to see that this woman thought she was in the right. "I never said that." "Why don't you get a real job? All you are doing is taking advantage of these men and their families." "Listen, I'm just trying to get through school." Maya knew that doing this kind of work was frowned upon by many and that it made her an easy target. If she had a better way to make what she was here while still accommodating her class schedule, she would have looked at doing that instead. But there was no way. This was her only option. "So you beg these men for money? You can't take care of yourself like a big girl, so you come crawling to other wives' husbands for money instead." "What are you talking about? These men pay us for a show. That's exactly what we give them." Maya always hated it when people assumed things about her or judged her in her line of work. It's not like she was a hooker or a drug dealer. She never had sex with any of them, and if they even tried to touch her, they got kicked out and were banned. Frank was always good about that. "No. You crawl and beg like a baby. Someone who can't care for themselves." The woman pulled out a stack of papers from her purse, which she had brought. "You're the reason he keeps coming here. Seven times in 30 days!" "Lady, I didn't give your husband a lap dance seven times this month. It's not me." Maya could hear the showroom floor starting to get a little rowdy. She knew she wasn't up yet, but it was clear that someone else was running behind, at least based on the chatter that started. "Oh yeah, let's see." She folded over the sheet of paper with a list of transactions on it. "September 25th, Little Miracles," she ran her finger across the paper. "September 30th, Little Miracles." Maya could hear more clearly now what was happening out in the showroom. The boys were chanting. "Little Miracles!" They were either getting really impatient, or someone else was about to get the bulk of the tips tonight. "Now we are here again on October 1st, Little Miracles." "I didn't see him yesterday! I haven't even seen him today; instead, I'm in here with you." Maya was annoyed. She couldn't believe Dameon let this happen. Maya stormed out of the private room. She was going to give Dameon a piece of her mind. She wasn't about to stand there and continue to get nagged at by this judgmental woman. But as she stepped out of the room, she saw that everyone was silent. No one was moving; it was like they were all frozen. Even the bartender looked stunned. Unsure what was happening, Maya started looking around the room until she saw it. A purple swirling light was on the stage. "What the fuck is that" Maya felt her mouth drop open. She had never seen anything like that before. The closest thing was from some of the spell books she looked through. She thought the whole magic thing was a fake. Her boobs never got any bigger, yet, here it is. Magic. She stared in awe as a witch hat slowly started to arise from out of the purple swirl.

Because of the current tech problems I have re-laid the entire story in this chapter. You can still read the comments at the end but they probably won't make much sense. Samantha’s lesson Samantha was being her usual annoying self. Her parents didn’t know why their adorable little baby girl was growing up to be an obnoxious little fiend. She was seven years old but had the attitude of a grumpy teenager who always thought she was right. Her mommy and daddy were at their wits end as to what to do with her and yearned for the days when she was a happy little bundle of smiles, giggles and the only demands she made was for her paci. Now she demanded attention 24/7 and had the house in uproar if she didn’t get it. Her brother, four year-old Nathan, was more often than not left crying because of some act of nastiness that his darling older sister had visited on him. Nathan was a sweet, undemonstrative child, who, though worryingly still in diapers, was otherwise a normal little boy. Having said that, the normal ‘terrible twos’ that his parents remembered so well from when Sam was at that age, appeared to pass him by. Maybe this was down to the fact that they had his sister to contend with and she seemed to be forever in that part of her ‘terrible’ childhood development. Whenever Nathan got any sort of attention Samantha would start acting up, get into trouble, cause an argument or generally be disagreeable. Meanwhile, her little brother would sit there playing with his toys and perhaps wondering why he was being ignored (if a child of his age ever thought that way). The school was always sending messages and asking Sam’s parents in for meetings to ‘discuss’ her behaviour but everything that was tried to remedy the situation failed miserably. That was until her mother accidently came across something that appeared to work. * Samantha had been screaming at her brother. Ridiculing the poor boy because he was still wetting himself, not just at night but also during the day, and, because she had been potty trained since the age of two, told him how much of a baby he still was. After one particular nasty tirade and unforgivable incident where she rubbed his wet diaper in his face, which needless to say had upset Nathan tremendously, her mother decided on her own punishment. She spanked her daughter (much to Samantha’s surprise and something her mommy had never done before), removed her little panties and replaced them with the wet diaper with which she had just been tormenting her sobbing little brother. Sam was the one now crying, and not just because of the spanking, she hated the feel of the wet diaper that now hung between her legs. Her mother had made it pretty clear that if she even attempted to remove it that would produce an even more severe spanking. Samantha was smarting from the first smacking she’d ever received and was temporarily stunned into submission so wandered miserably around the house with her huge drooping diaper easily visible below her little dress. Her mother noticed that somehow this action had calmed her daughter down and, for a few hours at least, she saw Sam behaving herself and, although perhaps reluctantly, start playing with Nathan who was now sitting happily in his dry protection. * As the children played their mother couldn’t help but notice how cute her disruptive daughter looked now she was back in diapers. The way it so obviously hung below her dress when she bent over brought back memories of those happier days when she was a baby. The fact that she now appeared a lot more obedient and agreeable also hadn’t gone unnoticed although, she realised it could have been down to Sam’s reddened bottom. When it was time for Nathan’s afternoon nap she also put Samantha down at the same time and while there was a little argument, it was soon over and she complied. Popping a pacifier into her son’s mouth soon had him sucking wildly as he soothed himself to sleep whilst hugging one of his teddy bears. Without thinking she also slipped one between her daughter’s lips and was surprised to see her also sucking as she closed her eyes and slipped into her own little dream world. Soon both her children were out for the count and mommy was able to have time to assess what had happened. Neither she nor her husband had, with the arrival of Nathan, given Samantha any less attention so wondered if it was more than just sibling jealousy. However, her terrible behaviour at school showed she was quite the tyrant there and that pointed to something else in their daughter’s make up. Physical punishment had never been in the armoury these parents used. However, with this current action, Sam had learned that there were now very definite consequences to her conduct. Meanwhile, her mother decided she was going to at least try and see if she could develop on this more agreeable side to her daughter. * When her children woke up she first changed Nathan, who had inevitably wet himself as he slept, spending time making him giggle as she wiped him clean, powdered and re-diapered him. She covered that with a pair of clear plastic pants and then pulled on his favourite matching cartoon t-shirt and shorts. Happily dry and wide awake he rushed off into the sunlit garden to play on the swing. Sam had warily watched the entire procedure but didn’t dare get up before her mother had given permission. Despite a rather long, deep nap she wriggled uncomfortably in the sodden diaper and could still feel where her mother had spanked her and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. Once the soggy mass had been removed she anticipated getting her panties back but mom then proceeded to do the same as she had with Nathan; wiping her daughter clean, spreading on some lotion and getting her well powdered. However, despite this obviously leading to the inevitable conclusion Sam was surprised when her mother produced another disposable. The protest was noisy but not unexpected. Nevertheless, her mother just lifted her legs up, swatted her bottom a couple of times, slid the diaper into place and fastened it tightly around her hips whilst her stunned daughter tried to hold back the tears. * Sam was in shock. Twice in one day she bore the marks of her mother’s hand but didn’t know what she could do about it. She wanted to object, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tear the house down but she didn’t want to feel that pain again so, despite every bit of her body wanting to reject what was happening, she grumpily put up with it. As her mommy slipped a pair of plastic pants over her diaper, but before she let her go and play outside, she was told in no uncertain terms that her behaviour was not acceptable and that until she stopped being an awful sister to her brother and started to conduct herself as a young lady, she would be kept in diapers. With that her mommy stood her up, pointed to the door and told her to go and play in the garden with Nathan. Reluctantly she moved towards the door, she didn’t really want to go outside where someone might see her wearing her padded protection, she was a big girl after all but her mother had made it clear that was where she should go and acting up just wasn’t an option. Her mother watched as she waddled out the door. There was no doubt about it, that little glimpse of bulky padding showing beneath her dress made her look adorable. In some way she hoped her daughter would do something unpleasant again, just so she had reason to keep her dressed like that for a little while longer. * Whilst her children were playing in the garden she went to the attic and found some of the baby clothes she used to dress them in. Waves of nostalgia swept through her mind and she wished she could have both her little babies back. She found a pair of pink frilly plastic pants that Samantha had worn as a toddler and remembered how sweet she had looked in her little dress with the frills showing over her bulky padding as she pushed her toy pram. Most of the clothing was Sam’s she had been the first and as such received brand new baby clothes. Little Nathan, when he came along, was saddled with her hand me downs but she remembered that he always looked so sweet no matter what he wore. As her fingers touched each piece of clothing another wonderful memory came to mind. She chuckled to herself at the thought of when he wore the same pink frilly plastic pants that had somehow gravitated to her hands, and how he had crawled around the house unperturbed by such a sweet but ‘girly’ item. He was always such an easy-going bundle of joy and her heart filled with the love she shared with almost every other mother over her children… but sighed to herself as she wondered what had gone wrong with Samantha. * Unexpectedly, the afternoon passed off without any trauma, both her children played together and appeared to be getting on, which was a first for a long time. Sam had even helped her brother build a tent using a blanket and the washing line as they’d played at camping in the wild outback. She howled like a wolf, made chirping and squawking noises as she pretended she was a host of wild animals and Nathan giggled his enjoyment and feigned being scared as he hid behind a rock (the upturned clothes basket). Their mother hadn’t seen such simple pleasure for quite some time and both her kids seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. When her husband returned home from work he was astonished to see a very relaxed wife, and both his children playing happily in between watching snatches of TV. When he sat on the sofa after he’d eaten he was also surprised to find that this time not only Nathan came over for a cuddle but the normally fussy Samantha also wanted the same. Without making a scene she crept to the other side of her father and settled down as, with one in each arm, he hugged his children together. He looked over at his wife as if wanting an explanation but she just smiled and let him discover the secret for himself. It wasn’t long before he noticed that his daughter, like his son, was also padded and again looked to his wife for some sign as to why this was the case. She was smiling broadly at his incomprehension but he realised that whatever the reason it had appeared to work, for the time being at least, and for that he shrugged in gratitude. Perhaps, for the first time in many months, they would have an evening without a Sammy style outburst, or a neighbour complaining about their daughter’s behaviour. * At night both her children were put to bed at the same time. Both had protection, which once again Samantha tried to rebel against but her mother forcibly made her wear under the extreme threat of getting her daddy to administer a more severe punishment if she didn’t do as she was told. This warning had the desired effect and Sam quietly, if unhappily, submitted. She mumbled under her breath about not being a little baby and resented being put to bed at the same time as her silly little wet baby brother. So, she was still able to lash out even if this time it wasn’t as loud or as prolonged as normal and certainly she was more than a little unsure of the ground she stood on. Her mommy simply popped in her paci, pushed a teddy under her arm and told her to go to sleep. She added that she didn’t want to hear any sound and if there was it would mean ‘big trouble’. Leaving that warning to speak for itself she wished her sweet dreams, kissed her forehead and left to return downstairs to her perplexed husband. When his wife explained the way the day had panned out, and guiltily justified the spanking (which neither really agreed with), all became clear. Both seemed unhappy about what had happened but couldn’t deny the results. When she spoke about her idea to keep their seven year-old in diapers to see if the transformation was permanent, he had to concede that it was at least worth a try. The threat of a spanking as punishment was also going to be maintained but they hoped that the threat would be enough. He would support his wife in her decision but thought that Samantha was a very headstrong girl and expected some reaction to her new situation. His wife sighed as if she agreed that it was inevitable but, and she was adamant about this, she was going to pull out all the stops to try and curb her daughters aggressive activities. * Despite herself and her insistence that she didn’t need to go to bed so early Samantha had a very good night’s sleep and only woke up when her mother shook her to get ready for school. Through sleepy thoughts and wandering hands, which fell on her thick night time protection, she remembered what had happened the day before. The plastic pants felt strange as did the bulk between her legs but it slowly dawned on her that she had wet during the night. She hadn’t done such a thing since she was two and couldn’t understand why it had happened now. However, with mother standing over her and encouraging her to get up she shifted uneasily beneath the covers. Fearing a possible argument or tantrum her mother quickly pulled back the covers and pulled her out of bed and, like her daughter, was surprised to see the soaked diaper. Thankfully the plastic pants had kept everything else dry but even though her mother looked concerned the tears were welling up in Sam’s eyes. She was certain that she would get spanked for it and was crying because of the fear that had gripped her body, which unfortunately didn’t help as she peed a little more as she stood there weeping. Her mother took sympathy on her damp daughter and hugged her telling her it was OK and that sometimes little girls have accidents. Through her blubbing Sam tried to say that she wasn’t ‘little’ and not a baby and that it shouldn’t happen but all that came out was some childish whining and choked-back sobs. Soothing words eventually calmed the wet seven year-old as she was guided to the bathroom to change out of her soaked padding and to get ready for school. Her mother cleaned her up and went to retrieve her school uniform. Fearing that she would have to wear a diaper for school she started bawling even harder but calmed a little when she saw that her mother had returned with panties and not further protection. However, as her mother helped her get dressed she issued a further warning about her behaviour at school. If it didn’t get better, or any of the teachers had reason to complain, she would be wearing diapers to school every day for the rest of the term. Shocked at this terrible threat Samantha meekly put her uniform on and went downstairs for breakfast whilst her mother got Nathan ready for his day at nursery. * Once at school and away from her mother’s authority, the compliant Samantha quickly turned into the overbearing ‘Little Madame’ the teachers had come to dread. Creating uproar, making other children cry and generally being at the centre of mayhem soon led to her mother being called to once again come and collect her disruptive daughter. The drive home was a sullen affair, her mother angry beyond words and Sam insisting that she’d done nothing wrong and it was entirely the other kids fault for acting like babies. However, once through the door her mother quickly dragged her over her knee, pushed up her school skirt, pulled down her panties and smacked her bare bottom for the third time in two days. Whether Sam thought that it just wouldn’t happen again or not, her mother was not going to put up with such blatant disrespect for her, the teachers and other children. Never had Sam’s bottom been so thoroughly chastised and when her mother made her stand weeping in the corner and think about what she had done to deserve such a punishment her extremely red cheeks were testimony to the fury her mother had felt. Her tears eventually dried up and though her bottom stung she was getting bored standing in the corner waiting on the punishment to end. However, the angry words her mother had said about moving an inch were still ringing in her ears so thought better than to defy her so stayed put. Unfortunately for Sam her smarting bottom was just going to be the start of her ongoing punishment. **** Part 2 As she rubbed her sore bottom Samantha wanted some kind of revenge on her mother. Her mind was working on the things she planned on doing and, she thought conspiringly, ‘daddy had cuddled me yesterday so he will be on my side’. Alas for her she was unaware of what her parents had already agreed between them to try and tame their infuriatingly volatile daughter. The anger she felt at least took her mind of her glowing cheeks and she was in a seething world of her own when her mother re-entered the room armed with her daughter’s new clothing. Unable to contain her fury any longer she turned and screamed at her mother and ran off to her bedroom, where, for some reason, she thought she’d be safe. Her mother had always knocked before she entered and Sam naively believed that all she had to do was say “No” and her bedroom fortress could not be breached. Mommy would just go away and leave her to her own devices and eventually call her for dinner when it was ready. The trouble for Sammy was, her mother was not aware of any of this and simply stormed into her room, telling her in no uncertain terms that she needed to learn to behave. Sam was quick to avoid the grasping hands so jumped up and ran around the room, leaping on her bed whilst avoiding her chasing mother. Quick she may have been but her mother was clever and just waited for her to tire herself out as she shouted, screamed and threw things in her wake. Unfortunately for her, she tripped over one of the blankets she had thrown in her temper tantrum and, still kicking and screaming, was scooped up by her mother. Her red bottom was easily identifiable now she was wearing no panties and provided an obvious target for her mommy who delivered another couple of whacks to that already tender behind. Then, as a stunned and weeping Sam struggled to make sense of this departure from the norm, her mother stripped her out of the rest of her clothes, wrapped her in an ultra-thick fabric diaper, pinned it in place and told her that from now on any time she acted like a spoiled little baby, that was just how she would be treated. * Her mother picked her up, carried her downstairs and deposited her in the back garden and told her she was to play nicely in the sunshine with her brother until daddy got home. Wearing only a thick diaper it was Sam who now looked like the baby. Although Nathan was wearing his usual protection at least it wasn’t visible like Sam’s. He playfully told her that she looked like a big baby and was glad she’d come to play with him. It was amazing that, dressed like she was how her whole personality changed. She hadn’t reacted to her brother mentioning she looked like a baby and, once outside in the garden, she just got on and played the games that Nathan wanted. Her mother wondered if Sam was even aware of this dramatic change but she was intrigued as to why, as soon as she had her headstrong daughter diapered, all the anger, violence and screaming just stopped. As they played Nathan did something totally unexpected, he shrugged off his shorts and t-shirt and wore only his diaper like Sam. To him wearing such a thing was completely normal and often ran around the house dressed that way. His parents hadn’t tried to stop him, they enjoyed his diapered exuberance and he was such a contrast to Sam who would be the one often ridiculing him for being “such a baby”. Now, as mommy watched from the kitchen window, she couldn’t believe how sweet her two diapered children looked as they played some imaginative game that was producing gales of giggles. * Their father was somewhat bemused to sit at the dining table with both his children dressed only in diapers. He didn’t say anything because he knew there would be a good reason why his wife had taken such measures and was also relieved to sit through a meal with no squabbling. Indeed, Nathan was explaining what he had done at nursery and Sam quietly listened to all the conversations. Partly because she was worried that her mommy would tell daddy about her being naughty and perhaps… well… she didn’t want anything to happen as she planned on speaking to daddy later. After dinner Nathan sat in mommy’s lap watching TV whilst Sam cuddled up with her daddy. He gently patted her padded bottom as she squirmed around trying to be loving and endearing. She adopted a very childish voice, which was most definitely not what you expected from her, and whispered in his ear just how much she loved her daddy. Despite him realising she was planning something, it had been so long since she’d expressed any form of affection to anyone that he was quite taken aback. Once mommy took Nathan upstairs to bed she saw her opportunity to see if she could manipulate her father into agreeing she need not wear diapers ever again. Hugging daddy she said, in that false childish voice she hoped would sway him, that mommy was being cruel making her wear ‘baby clothes’ as she hadn’t done anything wrong. Her daddy snuggled his daughter tightly but replied that she must have done something as he was sure mommy wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Sam tried to force out some tears as she sniffed that it was all the teachers fault, they didn’t like her and made up lies about her to make her look bad. She looked at her father, desperately trying to hold back those crocodile tears, and told him that she could only rely on him not to be awful to her… protesting her innocence as she let a tear slide down her cheek. Her father was impressed with his daughter’s acting ability and was softened just a little by such a sterling performance. He tried to put Sammy’s mind at rest by saying that he was sure it would all be sorted out soon but in the meantime, and it would probably be only for a short while, the diaper stayed. “Besides,” he said grinning and trying to make his daughter feel better, “you look so cute… and your brother never seems to worry about wearing them.” She was still trying to gain her father’s confidence. “But daddy, he’s a baby and I’m a big girl… and big girls don’t wear diapers.” “They do if mommy tells them they do.” He stroked her head, “Naughty girls, no matter how big they are, wear diapers if their mommies think that’s what they need.” He held his daughter at arms-length and looked into her tear-streaked face. “Sometimes, mommies and daddies have to punish their naughty children… and you have been very naughty…” “No daddy I haven’t, it’s not my fault,” she blubbed. But her father noticed that even this protest was not as vocal or as strident as he would normally have heard from her. He hugged her close, patted her padded bottom in reassurance and told her not to worry, he was sure that her diaper days would soon be behind her. However, he couldn’t help thinking what a sweet nature she could have if she wanted. His wife’s insistence on her being diapered certainly had an amazing effect and, like her, thought that both their children looked delightful dressed in such a way. * Her mother called down that it was time for her bath and though disappointed at not having influenced her father she hung tightly onto his neck as he carried her upstairs. There was no denying the fact that he liked this affectionate version of his daughter. Carrying her cradled in his arms and stroking her padded bottom brought back his deep paternal thoughts. In that brief trip up the stairs he too remembered with a great degree of happiness just how Sam used to be when a baby. How soft she felt, how wonderful her childish hugs were, how sweetly she smelled of baby powder and lotion. His head was filled with all these thoughts when he put her down on her bed and began to unfasten her diaper. No sooner was the diaper removed than that hateful steely look reappeared in her eyes. She kicked out and kicked-off as her daddy tried to guide her to the bathroom. She saw her mother knelt down at the side of the bath washing and playing with Nathan who was giggling as bubbles were being piled on his head. Sam screamed that she wasn’t going to get in with her “smelly baby brother” and that she should have a bath to herself. However, her father picked her up and deposited her in the warm suds with her brother and a warning that he didn’t want to hear another word from her. This didn’t stop her complaining about everything. Nathan was in the way, the water was too hot (and too cold), the bubbles made her eyes sting, mummy rubbed too hard with the sponge… etc etc etc. * Mommy plucked a clean and fresh Nathan from the bath and snuggled him in a huge soft towel. She carried him back to his room, dried him off, powdered and diapered him, gave him his paci and teddy and left him to sleep. Then she went to her daughter’s room and got her nightwear ready only this time, her pjs were augmented with another thick fabric diaper. Once her daddy had fought through all the arguments and mess that her bath time routine had made, he also wrapped her in a towel and took her back to her room. Covered in such a huge thick towel she wasn’t able to run or kick or do anything other than lie still. Once he’d dried her, and while she was still relatively immobile he slipped the diaper under her and had it pinned in place in seconds. Sam’s protest died on her lips as her father pulled her pink pjs over it all and kissed her goodnight. Now she had Nathan settled her mother came in and, seeing her lay quietly in her bed, asked if she’d like a story. A very subdued Sam nodded so her mother picked up a book she’d read at an earlier time of her daughter’s life and began the tale of a pretty princess. Sam snuggled down with a stuffed toy and her mother remembered she had a paci in her pocket and offered it to her, which she happily sucked on as the story continued. It wasn’t long before she too dropped asleep and both parents couldn’t believe how much difference the diaper made. They discussed what had happened during the day and the punishment that had been dealt out. Strange that they both felt so guilty about a strategy that seemed to be working but it was decided that, in the morning, when they were getting her ready for school she would be diapered… just to see if her attitude there could also be changed. * Again Sam slept right through and was only roused from sleep by her mother’s gentle shaking. Sleepily she tried to make sense of where she was and what she was doing with a thick, wet diaper between her legs. This time, because she wasn’t wearing any plastic protection, the diaper itself had not been enough to prevent her pjs, blanket, sheets and mattress from getting a bit of a soaking. As her mother realised what had happened Sam started crying and shaking her head. She just couldn’t understand why, for the second time in two days, she’d woken up wet - she was a big girl and big girls don’t have accidents. Her mother made a note to remember plastic pants next time and felt silly that she had already bought a couple of pairs for her but hadn’t thought to put them on her that night. Still, it was a damp lesson, and one she was determined not to make again. However, whilst her daughter was coming to terms with what had happened, she quickly dried her off, wiped her clean and powdered her before slipping her quickly into a waiting disposable. Sam wasn’t really aware of the quick change so only realized what she was wearing when her mother slipped over a pair of pale blue plastic pants which matched her school uniform. She really wanted to object but was still feeling a little bit ashamed of her mishap. Her mother simply didn’t allow her protest to materialize and soon had her dressed for school. Other than the soft crinkle sound she made as she walked, no one would have been aware of the fact she was now diapered. However, Sammy was well aware of this fact. She thought the rustling noise she made could be heard by everyone who had ears, the thick feeling between her legs a constant reminder and although she hated it there was nothing she could do and would just have to put up with all her friends laughing and calling her names. * Mommy dropped her off at school and walked her into the classroom where she was left to go and join the other pupils. Meanwhile, her mother had a word with the teacher, passed her a bag which contained spare disposables and told her that Sam had had an accident during the night and that they thought, for everyone’s benefit, it might be best if she wore some protection for the rest of the day. Her teacher seemed slightly taken aback at this turn of events but nodded her understanding of the situation and she would see to it that if Sam needed a change, it would be done without any fuss. Despite herself, Sam wet her diaper twice whilst at school so without any fuss she was sent to the nurse who changed her. Sam may have felt awful about having such accidents but she was by no means the only girl in her class who also needed their diaper changed. She still didn’t understand why she wet just because she wore a diaper but the pee came unannounced and the only time she realized what had happened was when she felt the disposable swelling under the deluge. The other thing she was amazed by was that none of her classmates commented on either the crinkle sound or her frequent trips to the nurse, they all seemed relieved that at least for the time being, Sam wasn’t as shrill as she often was. However, the teacher also noticed that, despite her occasional need for a change, her behaviour had improved dramatically. She’d always been the brightest of all the children in her group and had dominated every one of them in every subject and, to a certain extent, the teachers had part thought this was why she acted up so much. Perhaps she felt stifled by her peers and her bad actions were her way of drawing attention to this problem. Maybe, but there was no denying that whatever her parents had done or said to her, she appeared to have calmed down considerably. The teacher didn’t make the connection between the protection and her behaviour but, when her mother came to collect her and heard about such positive conduct, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that she had found some kind of solution to her daughter’s aggression. On the car journey home Sammy was quiet but looked a little grumpy. Her mother tried to make conversation but she just gave one word answers. At least she wasn’t being nasty just deep in thought or at least had her mind on other things. When they arrived back at the house it was patently obvious why Sam had been so quiet, she’d wet herself again and was more confused than ever as to why. Thankfully the plastic pants had protected the car seat and contained the flood but she was a very waterlogged girl who desperately needed changing. * Her mother let her wallow in her damp diaper for a while whilst she unloaded the car and started to put her shopping away. Sam looked most dejected as she waited for her mommy to finish what she was doing and help her change. Eventually, she finished and shooed her daughter up to her room. Once there she helped her take off her school uniform, which left her standing there in the swollen protection. Sam was just pleased that there was no one else who could see what she could see. Her mother helped her out of the plastic pants and the disposable was saggy and saturated. Pulling at the tabs released the weight and, to Sam’s great relief, it flopped to the ground. Her mother laid her back on the bed and cleaned her up; wiping and powdering her thoroughly. Sam may not have liked it but realised that, whilst she was wetting herself, the diapers would be staying. So, when her mother fixed her into a thick fabric diaper like the one she’d worn the day before, she could do nothing but accept her fate. This time, and like Nathan always wore, she had a pair of clear plastic pants pulled over them. Her mommy added a pink t-shirt and was about to add a pair of shorts when she realised that the padding was too thick for them to fit. In the end, like the previous day, she was left to wander around the house in just her protection. Her mother was overjoyed when, just before Nathan arrived home from nursery (dropped off by a neighbour who also had a child at the same place) Sam climbed on the sofa with her and cuddled into her lap. Like her daddy the day before, this was the first act of affection that Sam had expressed for quite some time. Her mother couldn’t have been happier or more thankful and, with an emotional tear in her eye, snuggled her daughter tightly. ***** Part 3 For the next few weeks Samantha wore a diaper to school as well as at home. Every morning she would wake up wet but now took it as normal. She still had no idea why she should be in such a state but now that she did she no longer reacted. The enquiring, lively, though ultimately argumentative young girl had been replaced by someone with a much more placid demeanour, whilst her brother had never had such an attentive playmate. Both mother and father were proud of their daughter and although her diapers were proving extra work for them, it was more than compensated by the fact she was so much calmer and such a pleasure to be around. Also, and this was something they were both relieved about, they no longer needed to spank (or threaten to spank) Sam to make her do as she was told. At school it was like she was a different person, no one was scared or intimidated when she entered the room like they had been before. Also, she soon learned that she didn’t have to go to the nurse every time she wet, the disposable would soak up and store her pee leaving her feeling relatively dry, if slightly more bulky. She even got used to her plastic protection ballooning out a tad as her diaper expanded but waddled around expertly not letting on about her ‘misfortune’ until she arrived home. The moment she got in mommy would always lift her skirt, push a finger past her elasticated leg-holes and check, then if needed (which was nearly always), whisk her up to her room where a store of disposables, fabric diapers, plastic pants, wipes, various lotions and powders now awaited her regular changing routine. Gone was the anger, the shouting and near hysterics that had caused so many problems in the past, all being replaced by an affectionate sweetheart who seemed to be getting cuter and more adorable by the day. Her mother was really enjoying the transformation from disassociated seven year-old into an endearing little miss. She heaped praise and love on her almost nonstop and was even more overjoyed by the positive and tender reactions it brought. So many hugs, cuddles, kind words and general compassion were now happening naturally, it was as if Sam had remembered what it was like to be nice. Mommy purchased prettier diapers, more colourful and fancy plastic pants, as well as an array of new clothing that emphasised what a darling, devoted, little daughter she had. When they went out Sam’s delightful pastel-coloured summer dresses had gotten shorter to reveal her matching padded panties. Sam appeared not to even notice this ‘devolution’ in her clothing and no longer argued about anything she was made to wear. However, her mother was getting much too comfortable and at ease at the way her ‘reborn’ daughter had so effortlessly returned to those less-fraught toddler days. * It used to be a regular event that Nathan would request to go ‘potty’ after the deed was already done. He seemed to only know about it after it had happened and of course by then it was too late. However, as Sammy appeared to be getting younger Nathan was getting the hang of actually using the potty on time. He still occasionally had accidents but they were becoming less and less frequent and both his parents were relieved at this sudden progress. Almost overnight he began to go to school in ‘big boy’ briefs, and as a typical four year-old, when he was with his chums, enjoyed this step up from being a little kid. However, at home there was a different and unforeseen development. As his sister scooted around the house, often wearing little more than her diaper and plastic pants, he wanted to wear the same as she had on. Not that he wanted her girly clothes, he just wanted to wear the same kind of thick diapers and brightly coloured plastic pants as his sister, perhaps missing their snug and comforting quality. As soon as he returned home from pre-school he’d change out of his briefs and ask his mommy to fit a diaper. If they were playing out together and Sam was wearing something new, even if it was something frilly and pink, it didn’t bother him, he wanted to match. He’d sulk if he didn’t get it, though thankfully there was never the histrionics that Samantha inflicted on everyone. He just asked, begged, looked dejected and promised he’d never ask for anything ever again, if only he could wear whatever Sammy was wearing. He wasn’t even using his diaper as much as Samantha, more often than not waking up dry, but it was as if he wanted to show solidarity with her predicament so, he’d decided to dress like her. Despite an initial resistance from his parents, they saw no harm in his request and eventually gave in to his rather sweet desires... even if it was for something pink and frilly. His mommy checked the stuff she had in the attic from when they were both toddlers and found the plastic pants she’d reminisced about only days before. She just hoped that if they fit it would stop Nathan from looking glum because the household had become a pretty cheerful place. The silky plastic cover was a bit of a squeeze over his thick fabric diaper, the frilly nature not worrying Nathan one little bit. He was just happy to be dressed the same as his sister. And that joy was catching because mommy and daddy were equally thrilled to see their two children deep in some game, playing together, or laid out watching TV wearing their matching outfit. Their vibrant padded little posteriors repeatedly making new memories that both parents had thought were long gone. * The entire environment in the house had changed. Bed times were no longer proceeded by refusal and argument, in fact, Sam had started going at the same time as her younger brother without so much as a sulk or pout. On alternative evenings each parent took turns in settling the children down; bathing them, changing them, reading stories and making sure that a pacifier and correct plushie were in attendance. A kiss, a hug and a sweet ‘night-night’ was enough for their children to sleep right through until morning. Neither parent could believe that from 7pm they now had peaceful evenings to themselves and could completely relax. Mom was able to get back to her favourite pastime of dress making, while her husband found time to decorate and repair the many things that had just been left due to a lack of time that a disruptive house caused. Mommy made new outfits for both her children but they were aimed more at Nathan’s age group, than Sammy’s. Cute cartoon characters festooned many designs, though any new dress for her daughter was complemented by a pair of shorts for Nathan. Both children seemed to enjoy coordinating their clothes and were often found in each other’s bedroom discussing what they should wear. A padded bottom had never bothered Nathan and now Sammy didn’t care either. Her wetting was manageable so, perhaps because of the peace which now reigned, neither parent thought it strange that she was continually in damp diapers. Mommy and daddy loved their sweet and well-behaved little urchins and were often complimented by other parents who struggled to control their own kids. Moments like that made them feel that they were doing something right but failed to question how this turn around in Sam’s behaviour had come about. They’d taken it for granted that the harsh but, as they saw it, pertinent spanking had made her realise the destructive course she was on and helped her mend her ways. The diaper punishment had emphasised that her parents were determined to see that transformation in a permanent way and eventually Sam, even as just a seven year-old, had grasped that need for change. Her parents were enjoying this break from a home constantly on the verge of turmoil and certainly didn’t want anything to disrupt the tranquillity they’d achieved. So, although the daily soaked diapers were a shame they considered them as collateral damage, though something she would eventually grow out of. They had tried on a number of occasions to let Sam out of her protection but she still spontaneously wet her panties, the bed and the furniture and looked most gloomy until returned to the comfort and security they offered. * During the second month of Sam’s dramatic behavioural turnaround her mommy was called into school. This hadn’t happened for such a long time that she was shocked by such a request and the phone call had given her no cause to lose a sudden feeling of dread. Once in the office, and nervously smiling, she took her seat opposite a very serious looking Principal. After the cursory pleasantries he held up a sheaf of papers lying on his desk. They were a selection of childish drawings and paintings, scrawls and daubs that any mother of a two year-old would be proud to stick on her fridge, although she wondered why they were being shown to her. He explained that from being the brightest seven year-old in school Samantha now had no attention span, lacked any drive, appeared to have forgotten all that she knew and that this ‘artwork’ was as much as they could get her to do these days. Shaking the sheaves of paper in bewilderment he wanted to know what had happened to alter Samantha’s personality to such a dramatic degree. A cold, dark feeling of guilt and horror had crept into the pit of her stomach. Sam’s mother searched for the correct words to explain the change. She didn’t mention the spanking, she only mentioned about the return to diapers because… for some reason… her mind was racing for a plausible excuse. She came up with one - perhaps it was as a result of stress at school? Maybe that’s why she’d become incontinent? Seeing the Principal now slightly on the back-foot, and desperate to avoid any blame, she continued that maybe all the acting up at school was as a result of their teaching methods? Perhaps, Samantha was sensitive to such pressures that fall upon a seven year-old and she’d rebelled in the only way she knew how? The Principal was shaken by this accusation but, realising she had the slight upper-hand for the time being, seized the opportunity to leave but not before delivering a final desperate comment. For the sake of her child perhaps it would be for the better if Sam was home-schooled from now on and no longer subject to whatever pressurized regime the Principal may have installed in the classroom. * As she collected her daughter from another concerned looking teacher her mind was in turmoil. She smiled wanly and picked up her daughter, felt that her diaper was full but carried her straight to her car. Samantha was telling her mommy what a nice teacher she had and that she’d had a wonderful time painting and playing most of the day. The fact that she was soaked appeared to have no effect on the enthusiasm about school she was sharing with her mommy. On the journey home she responded to her daughter with nods, smiles and the occasional “Yes sweetheart” but her mind was racing for an explanation. Neither she nor her husband had gone too deeply into why she wet but had only been so thankful for the change. Surely, she thought, it couldn’t be the spanking that had made the difference but then she remembered, at the beginning, Sam would still react and shout and scream even after getting her bottom slapped. No, she determined, it was definitely down to when she was put into diapers… that was when she appeared to calm down the most. It was also the time when she began to become incontinent because her morning diaper was always soaked. Her mother was on the verge of panic; what had she done to her lively, outgoing daughter? Once home she quickly stripped her daughter out of her sodden protection. After she’d wiped and powdered her, instead of the diaper she went and found a pair of her little school girl panties. She slipped them up her well-powdered thighs, pulled on a sweet summer dress she’d recently made and sent her out to play. Sam looked a bit upset at not having her diaper in place but these days never argued with her mother and went gloomily to play on the garden swing and wait for her brother to get home. Desperate for some answers her mother searched the internet, clicking on a multitude of sites to see if any other parent had similar experiences. She was angry with herself, and her husband, for not getting to grips with this earlier. Between them they had just been grateful for the less stressful existence. She realised that once she had Sam in diapers, and Nathan to a certain extent, she had babied them both; neither had to make a decision, everything was done for them, she was even happy to dress them as toddlers so that mommy and daddy were simply too grateful to have such sweet, loving children. * As she peered out of the kitchen window to keep an eye on what Sam was up to she was horrified to see her squat down, and without pulling down her panties, begin to pee. A puddle began to form under her but it was obvious from her expression that she was delivering more than just her urine into her pants. Her mother caught her just in time before she went to play on the swing again in her messy panties and rushed her into the house and led her up to the bathroom. She sat her on the toilet and explained that was what it was for but Sam just had a quizzical look and started to unravel the roll of pink toilet paper. Her mother was suddenly struck by the complete lack of understanding her daughter now had of the rudiments she had mastered when she was two. Why she hadn’t been aware of this shift in her daughters decreasing perception she could do nothing but blame herself. However, she was desperate to get Sam back on track… somehow. Nonetheless, first thing first, she needed to clean her up and that meant, for the time being at least, back into diapers and plastic pants. For the first time in a long time she reluctantly applied the various creams and lotions whilst hoping that she would be able to get her potty trained again, especially now that Nathan had managed it. However, as she pinned on the diaper and slipped on her frilly plastic cover, she couldn’t help but think how cute and adorable her daughter was when she was so dependent. Her joyful giggles and laughter rang around her room, the kisses of gratitude and affectionate hugs that always followed her diaper change, the general feeling of happiness that radiated from her sweet smile must, her mother continued to argue internally, account for something. * Mother was in a dilemma, now she knew about her daughter’s apparent regression at school she couldn’t pretend that everything was hunky dory. There had been occasional nagging doubts about the ease with which Sam had accepted her new status but her mommy had just been too overjoyed at getting her little sweetheart back that she pushed them to the back of her mind. Now that the school was aware she couldn’t pretend any more. Despite her vociferous defence of her daughter to the Principal, she knew she would have to do something and perhaps taking her out of school was not the answer. She called the school and apologised to the Principal for accusing them of having a regime of any kind and asked if he had any suggestions as to what could be the problem. He suggested a child psychologist that the school had used in the past who might get to the bottom of the problem. Sam’s mother froze at the word ‘bottom’ and guiltily remembered the red and inflamed little bottom that she’d inflicted on her darling little seven year-old all those months ago. The problem was that she was torn. Torn between doing the right thing for her daughter and torn between the overall pleasures the family now enjoyed. Was she being selfish? Was she in denial? Was it really that awful to have a happy child rather than an aggressive terror that upset everyone? Neighbours who in the past had crossed the street to avoid Sammy were now happy to see her winning smile and cute clothing, and when she and her brother were out together everyone commented on how adorable they both looked “…and so well behaved.” But, as she got older and grew up, her mother realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep her as a toddler for ever. She shouldn’t be washing diapers and changing her children even if she was actually enjoying doing so. This was going to be harder than she thought. There was no doubt that her children were at an age where all this was OK and it didn’t look that strange but could she really see her kids still running around in colourful diapers when they got into their teens? She wavered but eventually came to a conclusion: No, the child psychologist was the way to go and perhaps sort out Sammy’s problem once and for all. ***** Part 4 Samantha slipped effortlessly into her teens, probably because she had no idea what being a teenager meant. She may have grown in size but her mind was still that of a toddler; she wore what a toddler liked to wear and, despite everything, was still dressed in diapers. The psychiatrists (yes, psychiatrists plural), had been useless. The one the school recommended thought it was just a phase and, even after repeated visits, couldn’t come up with a suitable answer as to why Sam was stuck in such a childish regression. Reluctantly her mommy had admitted to the doctor that she had severely spanked her but that couldn’t explain such a dramatic turn of events, could it? The psychiatrist had doubted that such action would have made a prolonged impression and concluded that she was just happy being a little girl again. This didn’t help anyone, except the doctor’s continued fees, so, when Sam’s daddy had got promoted and they moved to another city, they sought a second opinion. However, this doctor, with an array of letters and certificates after his name, was similarly useless. They tried several methods of changing Sam’s routine, dress, behaviour but now, because no school would take someone her age acting like she did, mommy had her at home full time. Between them the new psychiatrist and her mommy adopted new strategies to reach into Sam’s ‘little’ head but all they got in return where smiles, giggles and wet diapers. * Meanwhile, Nathan was also rapidly growing up and had become quite a ten year-old handful in his own right. Not that he was anything like Sammy had been at seven; he was successful at school in both academic work and athletics, captaining the school’s soccer team. He was popular and always in demand from school friends, neighbours and teachers, nothing was too much trouble for him to try and undertake. Having said that, his main priority was still his ‘baby’ sister, who, despite everything, he adored and who he spent time with still dressing as she did in her protection. It was strange that he’d never grown out of that desire and he’d told his mother at one point that it was a real connection he had with his sweet sister that he hoped would never change. It had never occurred to either parent that Nathan’s desire for diapers should be spoken about to the psychiatrists, it was just thought it was something a loving brother did for his ‘baby’ sister. He was now of the opinion that she was born as a ‘toddler’ and that is all he remembered of her, being fun, childish and loving. He never recalled the nasty things she used to do to him when she was angry or simply out of control, he only ever remembered her as she is now… an older sister who just happened to be a dependent little baby, who he doted on. The move to a different city also meant that Samantha’s parents could also start anew and didn’t have to come up with any reason for their daughter’s ‘problem’. Any new colleague, neighbour, doctor just assumed that they had a daughter who was ‘slow’. Perhaps damaged in some way or perhaps from birth, Sam’s parents never made any excuses or gave any reasons so it was left to the individual to come up with their own diagnosis for Sam’s condition. Nearly always it was sympathetic and people were genuinely entranced by such a happy family, who looked good, were perfectly behaved and had a son who was so obviously concerned for his sister’s wellbeing. Yes, in many ways they had become the perfect new caring neighbours and ones who were a delight to be around. * Sam always looked sweet and childlike now her mommy was making her clothes and dressing her in that ‘special’ way that was so charming. Around the house she was still mainly dressed in colourful diapers and plastic pants, with a pretty little t-shirt with a cartoon or animal print on the front. Sam had developed a love for kittens so her room and most of her clothes had the delightful little depictions of the creatures on everything. Even her plastic pants had little pink kittens chasing a ball of pink string running all over them and she looked so cute. Even though she was definitely growing taller and developing she would cry and sulk if she wasn’t in her diaper. And, if she was wearing diapers, so did her caring and considerate brother, who continued to be selfless when it came to making his sister not appear ‘different’. Because the doctors had been hopeless in treating Sam, her mommy and daddy had just decided they would make the best of the situation. There was nothing they could do that they hadn’t tried and nothing had worked. The only time that smile came back onto their daughter’s face is when she was back in her protection and her brother was playing some fabulous game with her. Her parents had settled back into making the most of a… not bad situation… and were enjoying the pleasure their ten and ‘two’ year-old gave them. * Two weeks after Sammy’s thirteenth birthday she woke up grumpy most unlike the way she usually greeted the day. The smile had disappeared, her teddy bear was thrown on the floor, her bed clothes were in complete disarray and, for the first time in almost six years, she hadn’t woken up wet. Sat on the side of her bed wearing just a cute t-shirt and thick protection Sam was in no mood for silliness. She screamed for her mother, who was just about to wake her, and demanded to know why she was dressed in such a “stupid, stupid, babyish fashion?” Her mother was taken by surprise at this aggressive behaviour and tried to placate her ‘little morning ray of sunshine’ but Sam was having none of it. She ripped herself out of her plastic pants, little kittens suddenly needing more than a ball of sting to run after, as she tugged at her thick, well-pinned night time diaper. The normally placid routine was replaced by a furious teenager who wanted answers and wasn’t content with soothing words from her mother. Eventually removing her diaper it fell to the floor dry but with something else that hadn’t been foreseen. * Even though she was now a teenager Samantha’s mommy had never thought to tell her daughter about growing up and the onset of menstruation. To everyone she had been this cute little child, full of fun and happiness, it was felt unnecessary to burden her with tales about growing up but, here she was, blood in her diaper, furious and seething about something her mother hadn’t seen for, well, over six years. Hearing the commotion Nathan walked into his sister’s bedroom dressed in exactly the same nightwear that she had been wearing and stood at the door waiting for his mother to explain what was happening. Sam saw her ‘stupid little baby brother’ still wearing diapers nervously hovering by the door and called out what a ‘big stupid baby’ he was. Her mother didn’t know what to do or say as Sam, now naked, swept past her and checked her closet. She pulled out all the childish clothing, screaming abuse at whomever it was that had stolen and changed her clothes for all this, baby stuff. She pulled the sweet little dresses off their hangers and threw them to the floor in disgust and demanded to know where her ‘proper’ clothes were. Her mother was still trying to calm her down and still talking to her like she was a two year-old. Sam looked at her mother in disgust and sarcastically told her to try and speak like a grown up for a change… it might be OK for the likes of him (and she pointed to a very panicky brother still unsure of what was going on) he may enjoy baby talk but she called emphatically… I’m a big girl. Just like that, the seven year-old Samantha was back and it felt like she had returned with a vengeance. * Her mother tried to explain that she’d been ‘ill’ and that she’d been kept in diapers because she was wetting everywhere. Sam wasn’t having any of this nonsense and demanded to know where her clothes were, she couldn’t even find her panties and wanted to get dressed for school. Despite her pleading for her to ‘just listen’ Sam was not in a mood for listening to anyone. Her mother thought the only solution was to spank her to make her behave and she pulled her across her lap and set about a hard spank to Sam’s wriggling bottom. Now being a bigger and stronger thirteen year-old, the process wasn’t as simple as it once was and Sam was able to wriggle free and for the first time in her life, struck out at her mother. She screamed that if she ever tried to smack her again she’d regret it and stormed off to the bathroom past her younger brother who was now suddenly standing with a quivering bottom lip and in his own very wet diaper. The unfolding scene had upset him and it was if he had suddenly been catapulted back to a time he’d tried his best to subdue. That awful person who had just tried to hit his mother was no longer the sweet little sister he adored but a bully he was afraid of. He may have grown up himself but unexpectedly that sad and scared little boy reappeared and so had his real need for diapers. The whole scene had become a nightmare and the warm flow that suddenly engulfed his diaper produced a tremor which made him burst into tears. * With Sammy having locked herself in the bathroom, her mother went to see to her shocked son. She was surprised to see him so distraught and even more surprised at his heavily sagging diaper. He’d not wet himself since, well, since Sammy had started wearing diapers. He took some cajoling but eventually she was able to get him cleaned up and dressed for school. He seemed very unsure and confused and needed constant approval from his mother to know he was doing the right thing. Thankfully his friend arrived and they went off to catch the school bus together so that was at least one problem solved. Eventually, Sam realised she couldn’t stay in the bathroom all day and emerged to be told that she’d been ill for quite some time and that the only clothes available to her now were those she had thrown on the floor. Even to Samantha this entire experience was a bit debilitating and her thought process missed an opportunity to find clothes that fit. She could have raided her mother’s closet, or even stolen some of her brothers clothes, however, neither of these options presented themselves in her confused mind. So, despite her arguing that she could never wear such things her mother insisted that until they could go shopping they were all that was available. # Reluctantly she fastened herself into a disposable (she wouldn’t let her mother anywhere near her), pulled up a pink diaper cover that looked more like panties than plastic pants and slipped over her head what she regarded as the least offensive looking dress she could find. It was short and still showed off her padded bottom but at least it wasn’t too obvious. It would have to do until they made it to the mall, which she was insisting they set off for immediately as she had no intention of wearing ‘this’ (she flapped at her dress in revulsion) for a second longer than necessary. Mentally she may have still been a seven year-old but Sam soon realised that she was much bigger than she remembered. She had no recollection of this so-called ‘illness’ but surmised that her mother must be telling her the truth. However, why she should have been dressed in such a babyish fashion she could only guess and her seven year-old brain had come to the conclusion that her parents had wanted her that way. She was easier to control as a baby, she had no opinions and what better way to stop her from arguing… stomping… screaming…??? As the car sped towards the city’s main mall Sam suddenly thought about how she used to be, well how she was, well, now she was confused. Quite a lot of her past was filling her head and as she understood she began to smile. She liked being the centre of everything; she liked that the world revolved around her and her opinions, she liked that she could ruffle up neighbours and teachers and other kids just by behaving in an aggressive way. She liked getting her own way, even if it disrupted everybody else’s life. This was a lot to take in as she peered sideways at her intense looking mother desperately trying to concentrate on driving and wondering what to expect now she had her ‘vindictive’ daughter back. In such a short space of time Sam had gone from a toddler, to a seven year-old and now an arrogant teen, she was growing up fast but there again, she thought, she had quite a bit of time to catch up on. * Sam was appalled to find that the diaper was quite comfortable to wear as the drive neared its conclusion. She could see the mall in the distance and it was only the amount of traffic that was hindering their progress but found that she was unintentionally wriggling around in her protection. The smooth, padded feel of the plastic panties against the car seat material was making her feel strangely happy. She soon cut that train of thought out. She wasn’t about to regress again but she was interested in knowing why, with a diaper taped in place, she should now feel a little bit more contented. However, there were a million other things going on in her rapidly expanding mind and getting to the clothes store was the priority. # It didn’t take her long to get a complete new wardrobe of trendy clothes. She may have given the shop assistants a hard time as she slipped into an array of different items, throwing things on the floor as she looked at something new. She saw what other girls her age were wearing and copied them adding her own touches here and there. In less than two hours she was dressed as a normal thirteen year-old girl, in jeans and patterned top, panties, platform shoes and clutching a quilted purple purse that seemed to be all the rage. She wanted to immediately throw away the outfit she arrived in but her mother put it in a bag to take home… diaper and all. Sam couldn’t see the point in keeping it but then said that perhaps her ‘baby brother’ could wear it, as it was far more ‘his style’ than hers. There was no way Sam was going to carry it, she had more than enough bags crammed with new clothing, so her mother had that responsibility when they returned to the car for the journey home. Sam didn’t know any of the songs on the car radio and was surprised to hear baby songs when she pushed the CD button. The look of horror on Sam’s face was equalled by her mother’s huge audible sigh at the loss of recent happier excursions they had taken together. She pressed the eject button then watched as it slowly emerged from the slot, then with a shrug and another sigh tossed the offending silver disc onto the rear seat. * Back home Sam wasted no time in emptying her closet of everything she disliked, which was everything. Her cute, newly made dresses, tops, skirts, together with the collection of nappies, disposables, plastic pants, wipes, powder etc. all went in a big pile, which she cheekily placed on her brother’s bed. She told her mother that he was the only baby now so she would have no further need for any of it and, slamming her bedroom, door shouted that she expected to be treated as an adult in future. The stroppy seven year-old had turned into a very demanding teenager who expected everything but wasn’t prepared to do anything for it. Her mother called her husband to tell him of this new development and both were sobbing at the realization of what they had lost and knew that hoping things might be different this time, was just an act of denial. They thought they knew what was coming but a thirteen year-old’s demands are louder and more confrontational than either was comfortable with. Threats had no meaning, discipline was hard to exact because all Sam kept on reminding them of was - they had kept her as a baby for six years and she was determined to make them pay. Meanwhile, in what seemed a very short space of time, her out-going younger brother, antagonized by his demon sister, regressed almost totally back to being a terrified toddler. The constant ridicule, her sneering, together with her scary anger had that affect - he didn’t want to wear diapers on a night but for some reason had started wetting himself. If Samantha was in the vicinity, just seeing her made him lose any control over his bladder. The flow would be instant and unhindered… there was only one solution and that was for him to wear protection. It got so bad that he was even wearing diapers to school, which some of the kids were only too happy to ridicule him about, which in turn made him even more nervy and scared. The traumatising didn’t stop at school. His loving sister making sure he knew his place, and she reasoned, as his parents had wanted a baby so much, he should take her place. It wasn’t hard to make that a possibility as Nathan seemed to have returned to being completely and utterly dominated by his ‘caring and loving’ sister. Her ‘baby’ clothes quickly found another recipient for their use and Sam would enjoy making sure her baby brother was appropriately dressed. Samantha was once again happy with the return to her status as the centre of attention. She ruled the house, though every night both her parents wished for a return of their ‘little’ daughter… their wish wasn’t granted. Every time Nathan had an accident or was seen to wet his pants, Sam would be there with a cruel word to mock him and insisted he be treated as she had been - those cute little childishly designed clothes her mother had made especially for her looked equally good on her diaper-clad brother. Friends and neighbours who previously thought they were just the ideal family were treated to a constant tirade from this precocious and horrible young lady who had turned into a rebellious and frankly jumped up, self-opinionated she-devil. Samantha revelled in her growing celebrity and enjoyed taking her cowering little baby brother anywhere she could ridicule him and force him to walk around often wearing embarrassing ‘frilly’ protection. He was always too scared to fight her or argue with her or say anything to her… she took control of him as easily as she had taken back control of the household. Despite attempts to get her to revisit a doctor or psychologist she simply refused any such suggestion. They, she decided, had made her into a little baby for too many years so now, it was her time and her teen years were going to be a terrible experience for everyone except her. The blood in her diaper had been the spur to grow up. Now, she was having the time of her life, whilst making everyone else’s a complete misery. ***************** The End

Trapped in Diaper Dreams: Prologue I yawned, despite the three cups of coffee I'd already downed this evening. The subject of my testing, a Mr. Franklin Jones, snored next to me at a decibel level high enough that I wondered if I should be wearing ear plugs to prevent any long-term damage. Well, I'd have to remember that for next time. Mr. Jones was had volunteered for a special sleep study in which I, Dr. Hannah Lynton, tested my ingenious invention on him. It was an apparatus designed to allow a conscious person to control the dreams of someone who was asleep by measuring the activity of the awake person and projecting it as theta waves into the brain of the sleeper. On the surface, not many people see the utility of such a device. Why would you want to control someone's dreams? But they don't see the bigger picture. This could be used to allow people to speak to comatose loved ones. Or perhaps it could be used as a rehabilitation method on the criminally insane? The possibilities are as limitless as… Well, as dreams! Unfortunately, I haven't had much success. The test involved myself and the patient wearing special headgear attached to the machine between us. Then once he was asleep, I was to read a novel–in this case Moby Dick–and then when the patient awakes we ask him what he dreamt about and see if it matches the events of the book. This was our 5th time repeating this test and we've seen few positive results. On the 2nd night he did dream about being on a boat, but that's where the similarities ended. If tonight didn't yield any workable results, I'd be back to the drawing board. The door opened to my right and I managed to glance up from my book to see my colleague, Dr. Bethany Avery bringing me another cup of coffee. "Having fun yet?" she whispered. I gave her a quick smile and turned my attention back to my book. Protocol dictated that I keep distractions to a minimum. Although I had to admit, I could find myself very easily distracted by Dr. Avery… She placed the coffee cup on the tray next to me and took my empty one. "I don't know how you manage to drink so much coffee during these tests knowing you can't get up to use the bathroom until morning. Unless you're wearing an adult diaper or something?” I cringed at the thought. A diaper? Me? ”As if I would ever do something so…” Humiliating? Childish? ”Unprofessional.” She shrugged “Is it really all that less-professional than pissing in a bottle?” She glanced under my chair and I felt heat rise up to my cheeks. I know she couldn't see the bottle I'd hidden inside my purse, but I suppose she must have surmised that I was finding some way to relieve myself during these overnight tests. I think she sensed my discomfort with the topic and backed off a bit “Sorry, I'm being weird. Do whatever you think is best, doctor.” The sudden use of an honorific somehow made me feel like I'd messed up. Pushing Bethany away was the last thing I wanted. “N-no, it's fine! I umm… I guess I just… Never thought of it that way?” Perhaps I was just projecting my own desires, but I could've sworn I caught a hint of a smirk in her eyes. Was she… Enjoying watching me get all flustered? “Well, if you decide you wanna try it, I can probably sneak a diaper from the supply closet for you.” she winked, heading out of the room. My gaze lingered on the doorway after she was gone. Damn. She sure does have a way of getting under my skin… And her idea was… Not without merit. Using my “piss bottle” as she called it, was among my least favorite parts of this whole experiment. I'd never considered that there might be an alternative solution. But diapers? Really? How could I, a grown woman, stoop so low as to wear a diaper and pee myself like some kind of… Baby? And why are my cheeks burning so badly at the thought? *ZZZZZZTTT!* The lights overhead suddenly flickered as something on the machine burst and sparks spewed out. But none of that registered to my mind as my body went completely rigid and my head felt like it was on fire! I don't know if it lasted a second or several minutes, but when the Surge of electricity finally subsided I slumped in my seat, my vision darkening as I fell into unconsciousness… \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ (And now, a message from Wannatripbaby): Hi all! So this is the Prologue for a sort of Anthology series Princessdiapergirl and myself have decided to start for any sort of random, crazy story idea we get that isn't quite big or bold enough for a multi-chapter story. This way we can get straight into the good stuff without all the set-up. So far, we have one (1) fully written story for this series which we will likely post sometime within the next few days. After that? Well, that's where you come in! If you can think of any crazy or kinky scenarios you'd like to see us inflict upon our poor Dr. Hannah Lynton, leave a Comment down below and tell us! We might just make it a reality! 😁

Diapered on a Camping Trip: Chapter 1 A/N: Here's another story with a slightly different plot than my previous ones. This story focuses on a pre-established Diaper Lover who admits his love of diapers to his rommmate and his rommmate's girlfriend! They all plan a camping trip together, little does he know the couple has more plans for him than roasting marshmallows. General warnings for this story: Sissy activity, dubious consent with regression, wetting diapers, messing diapers. Possible warnings for future chapters that I may or may not get into are: Breastfeeding, enemas, humiliation, and sexual content. I hope you all enjoy! Telling his roommate (and his roommate's girlfriend by proxy) about his diapers was the greatest thing Steven had ever done, he thought as he stacked his suitcase in the back of said roommate's car. At first, it was just out of necessity. After moving out of his parents’ house and into the apartment with his best friend Hayden, Steven was nearly bursting at the seams to finally indulge in his little quirk. The only hang-up was doing it where Hayden wouldn’t see it. Steven ordered his first case of diapers as soon as the last box was unpacked and waited anxiously for it to arrive. “Hey, I have a package coming,” Steven told Hayden casually that morning. “If it shows up before I’m home can you put it in my room?” “Yeah, sure, no sweat,” Hayden said, more focused on making breakfast than questioning what was in the package at all. This continued for the first few months they lived together. Steven occasionally ran into issues disposing of his used diapers discreetly, but that was the only hurdle. That is until Amelia showed up. Amelia was Hayden’s long-time girlfriend. Steven had met her and even hung out with her on a few occasions, but now that they had their own place, she was over almost every day! And she was quite insistent on pulling Steven along in their dates. If there was a movie night, she’d ask him to come watch it with them, if they were going out to dinner, she was asking him to join. It was very sweet of her in a way that didn’t make Steven feel like a third wheel, but at the same time, it encroached on his diaper time. And then it finally came to a head one day. Steven ordered his diapers as usual and waited for them to arrive. Hayden was given the same instructions to just put them on his bed. Only, Steven was mortified to come home after work one day to see Amelia and Hayden digging through his box of diapers right in the living room. Both their heads turned toward him like sharks in freshly chummed water and Steven could barely keep himself from walking out. “Why would you open my mail?!” He cried out in offense, face burning red and charging toward his room. He didn’t care about collecting his diapers right at that moment. He just wanted to hide and never resurface again. Only, Amelia stepped in front of his door with her arms spread wide. “Don’t be mad at Hayden!” She cried, eyes watering. “It was my fault. I ordered some makeup pallets to be delivered here and I thought the package was mine without even looking at the label.” She often had makeup delivered to their apartment so that it didn’t sit out in the sun on her porch. Steven didn’t even think about the possibility of her opening his diapers by mistake. Still, the shame burned bright within him. “Move. I want to go to my room.” He pouted, looking down at his shoes so that he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “Hey, man,” Hayden’s voice called from the couch. “Let’s talk this out, okay? We promised to resolve every conflict before going to our rooms.” That was one of the conditions they created when they moved in together… Steven gave a shaky sigh and plopped onto the couch farthest away from the open box. That night, he explained his diaper inclination to the pair, encouraged by their curious glances without a hint of judgment. And, much to his relief, they were quite accepting of it. To the point where Amelia packed his box back up with care and offered to carry it back into his room. “I think these are the cutest,” She couldn’t help but mention, pointing to the case on top that had little lions on it. “Are you going to wear one tonight?” “Uh,” Steven had stuttered. He did plan on wearing that night, but it was something different to tell her that. “Maybe…” “Don’t be shy if you do,” She said sweetly. “We were planning to watch some movies tonight and I’d hate for you to be too embarrassed to join us. Okay?” And Steven did. From then on, he wasn’t shy about his diaper-wearing around the couple. And everything went back to normal…just with a little bit of diapers involved. And so, as Steven loaded his luggage in the back of Hayden’s car, he couldn’t help but think it was an amazing thing that Amelia opened that box. Because now they were going on a week-long camping trip, he was encouraged to bring his diapers along for the whole trip. Amelia, the sweet woman that she was, even bought a diaper bag to store extra diapers and supplies in for the 12-hour trip to the campsite. Her eyes had been wide with glee as she picked a handful of diapers from his stash to fill the bag with, adding in a bottle of baby powder, wipes, and cream “just in case” she said sweetly. The trio loaded into the car with excitement buzzing all around. Only, Steven blinked in surprise as Hayden followed him to the back seat and made sure his seatbelt was buckled up tightly. “Just making sure you put it on,” He said casually. “Do you need a diaper change before we go?” Steven’s face burned red. “No! I just put this one on!” He said shyly, shifting around to hear the faint crinkling of the thick diaper as if to prove his point. Not deterred at all, Hayden reached down and pulled the front of Steven’s basketball shorts open to peer at the front of his diaper. “Hayden!” Steven cried out embarrassed. “Calm down, I’m just making sure,” Hayden said dismissively, letting the waistband go with a snap. “Diaper butt dry and ready for a roadtrip,” He announced to Amelia. “I wonder for how long that will last,” Amelia giggled much to Steven’s protest. “I can hold it!” Steven denied. “I think he won’t last an hour,” Hayden bet as if Steven hadn’t spoke. “I give him two hours,” Amelia said kindly. “But Steven you have to tell us when you need a change so we know which of us is right.” “I-” Steven stuttered. “No!” “Are you just going to sit in a wet diaper the entire 12 hours?” She asked with concern, making Steven feel just slightly like an asshole. “Baby, that’s bad for your skin!” Head ducking down, Steven muttered, “I’ll say something.” “Yay!” Amelia cheered. __________ Hayden was right, though. Steven barely lasted 45 minutes down the road before his bladder was twitching. It must have been his overzealous diaper usage because he didn’t remember holding his pee taking so much effort. And it didn’t help that Amelia was handing him small bottles of juice from the diaper bag to sip on as the minutes ticked by. Steven’s first wetting happened 48 Minutes into the drive. Embarrassed, and slightly spiteful, Steven kept his mouth shut. He put on enough baby powder and the diaper was thick enough that he was sure it could hold another wetting with no problem. That wetting came followed by 3 more bottles of juice and another wetting only 40 minutes later. Just what was the deal with all this pee? He’d never gone twice in the same two hour span! As the 2 hour marker approached, Amelia and Hayden kept making glances at him from the front seat. But Steven was determined to keep his mouth shut until the first rest stop. “That’s two hours!” Amelia said proudly and unbuckled her seatbelt. Steven watched her confused as the car was still moving. Only, for his surprise, she climbed over the center console and slid into the back seat with him! Her hands fiddled until they unbuckled his seatbelt. But the swell of his diaper was obvious even though the thin basketball shorts. “We have a wet one back here!” She giggled. “Amelia-” Steven tried to protest but was shushed. Amelia pushed and shoved Steven until he was laying down across the back seat and her hands yanked down his basketball shorts without hesitation. “Oh, he’s super wet!” She laughed. Kneeling over him, Amelia pulled up both of Steven’s knees to expose the butt of his diaper. If he wasn’t wearing it, he’d have everything out on display! “This is definitely two wettings. Maybe even three!” “No!” Steven tried to deny only for Amelia’s hand to rest on the front of his diaper and squeeze. “I think so, baby,” She smirked. “You little fibber. I should wash your mouth out with soap! Hayden, toss me the diaper bag.” The diaper bag was tossed back with an answering laugh causing Steven to hide his face in his hands. “Amelia, stop it!” “Stop what?” She asked, rooting around in the diaper bag before pulling out a clean diaper. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just changing a baby’s soaked little pamper.” Steven felt his stomach drop but also his heart flutter. Oh god. There was no way she was actually doing what she said she was. They were in a car! There were no cars around, sure, but they were in a car and she wanted to change him! She never changed him before! And now she suddenly wanted to in a car?! What the hell was going on?!

Ann And Joe Learn Joe's Rightful Place Chapter 1 ‘Joe!’ Ann called angrily to her husband of three years. She stood waiting in the kitchen, having turned off the smoking, empty frypan on the stove. ‘What?’ replied Joe from the study of the comfortable ranch style home Ann’s money had paid for. ‘Joe, come here please!’ Ann shouted. 'And turn down that racket!’ Grumpily, Joe killed the sound on the PlayStation and slouched towards the kitchen. It was 8.30 in the morning. Ann was smartly dressed for work but Joe was still in his pyjamas. He had been supposedly looking for work for the last four months, but job interviews were less frequent now and he often stayed in his pyjamas all day. He knew that riled Ann, but he didn't really care. She made more than enough money for both of them, and she loved her job whereas Joe had hated his. Ann held up the frypan as Joe sauntered into sight. ‘First you ruin one of my good saucepans, now this, Joe,’ Ann said with exasperation. ‘I forgot,’ muttered Joe. ‘Sorry.’ He had put the frypan on the stove to preheat a but, but had become engrossed in his war game. ‘And you broke the tip off my good German knife doing God knows…’ Ann continued. ‘Yeah, I said I was sorry,’ Joe said rolling his eyes. Ann spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘You're always sorry,’ she said, ’But sorry is not enough. It's not the cost, which is considerable, it’s your lack of responsibility. You don't seem to care. You lounge around playing your stupid games all day, drinking can after can of beer and leaving a trail of mess. In my house.’ Joe looked at her sharply at the last sentence. That subject was by mutual agreement off limits. Ann lowered her angry gaze. ‘You can’t even keep yourself decent. Close up the fly on your pyjamas. I don't want to see your willy dangling around,’ she said. Joe looked down at the gaping fly of his pyjamas and tried to tug the opening closed. ‘Hold on a minute,’ said Ann, stepping towards Joe and crouching to inspect his pyjamas.'Move your hands away, please.' ‘You are disgusting,’ she said, reaching out to feel the soft flannel. ‘Look at the front of your pants! Take those off now!’ Joe, to his credit, blushed hotly. ‘Ann…’ he began. ‘I don't want to hear it,’ said Ann. ‘You have absolutely no decency. You're too tired, or lazy, to think of me for your sexual activities, but you're happy enough to masturbate in your pyjamas like a teenager. The semen on your pyjamas is still wet, for heaven's sake. As if your sloppy bathroom habits weren't bad enough. You stain the back of your underwear with revolting brown streaks and the front with, well, I don't even like talking about it. A toddler’s dirty diapers aren't much worse. And don't start that lip quivering self pity act,’ she continued, looking fiercely at Joe. ‘I know you've had a hard time, I know you've been under pressure and I know what Dr More said about rest and recovery, but she didn't mean that includes behaving like an irresponsible child who can't keep from playing with himself.' Joe did his best to look pitiable. He actually felt pitiable. He was 27 and Ann was 35, richer, employed in a more important job than Joe could ever aspire to, and to boot, Joe was totally out of condition while Ann’s regular workouts kept her in top trim. She was taller than Joe, and he had to admit, probably stronger. The couple stood facing each other. Ann felt like hitting Joe while Joe felt like crying. ‘I said take your pants off,’ she said matter of factly. Joe turned to go to the bedroom. ‘No,’ said Ann. ‘Here. Now.’ Joe looked at her questioningly. ‘Now, Joe,’ Ann commanded him. ‘Now means now.’ Joe began to untie the cord at the waist of his pyjama pants. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake,’ said Ann. She strode towards Joe and with both her hands tugged the loose fitting pyjama pants to Joe's ankles. Joe’s hands flew to his groin. ‘Ann!’ he objected. Ann laughed. ‘I don't care if you cover that little thing or not,’ she said. ‘I'm not interested, especially after you've been touching it. Now, take your foul pyjama pants to the laundry, and come straight back. Don't put any other pants on. I don't think you’re worthy of an adult privilege like being fully dressed.’ Joe stood stock still, staring at Ann. He was still trying to process the awful things she had just said. The mention of adult privilege really stung. Joe’s last boss had said something similar when she had fired him. Joe was even closer to tears now, ironically out of concern that he wasn't considered adult. Ann waited a moment, then grabbed Joe firmly by one arm and turned him towards the laundry. As she did so, she spanked Joe’s bare behind as hard as she could with her free hand. It hurt her hand plenty, and she hoped it hurt Joe. It did. Joe looked at her in shock, wailed ‘You hit me!’ and burst into tears. ‘And I'll spank you again if you don't do what you're told,’ said Ann, and propelled Joe towards the laundry. She watched with steely satisfaction as Joe’s white bottom, branded with her angry red hand mark, receded. Then she noticed something reflecting the sunlight from the tiled floor. She looked more closely and saw a trail of little puddles and droplets of urine tracking Joe’s path. Joe, meanwhile, was standing in the laundry where he'd dropped his pyjama pants on the floor. He was crying and helplessly peeing through his fingers to create a large puddle around his feet. He heard Ann’s quick steps coming along the passage, and desperately wiped up the puddle on the floor using his foot on the pyjamas. ‘Great,’ said Ann from the doorway, where she stood in her closely fitting tan business pants and neat off white blouse. ‘I suppose you'd made a mess of your pyjama pants already. Pee all over them isn't going to be much worse. When you've cleaned up your trail of pee in the hall - with a mop like a grownup - I want to have a serious talk with you. And no pants. Irresponsible, messy little boys don't need pants.’ Joe looked at Ann fearfully. ‘Ann, I…’ he began through his sobs. ‘Save it,’ said Ann. ‘Clean yourself up and see me in the living room.’ Ann glanced with displeasure at Joe’s modest penis, now sticking out horizontally beneath his rounded tummy. ‘And I don't care how stiff your little wee wee is, don't touch it. I'll see you in the living room,’ she said, then turned on her heel and left. Joe did as he was instructed, and hurried to the living room, trying to will his stiff little member to soften as it bounced with his steps. Ann was standing like a sergeant major when Joe arrived. ‘Stand in front of me,’ she ordered him. ‘And take your hands away from your penis,’ she added. ‘Your wee wee is out of bounds for your dirty little hands. That's new rule number one. No masturbating. It's disgusting and I won't have it in my house. That little thing is for peeing only unless I say otherwise.’ Ann paused, looking at Joe’s penis sticking out from his sparsely haired groin. ‘Do you find this exciting?’ she asked Joe. ‘N,no,’ replied Joe, looking down and still sobbing. ‘Mm,’ said Ann. ‘Rule number two, you sit on the toilet to do all your business from now on. I'm sick of cleaning the floor around the toilet of your smelly mess, and half the time you don't lift the seat anyway. And you wipe properly, front and back, whenever you use the toilet, OK?’ ‘Yes,’ mumbled Joe. ‘And rule number three, you've caused enough chaos in the kitchen,’ Ann said. ‘You are now banned from there. If you want a drink, or something to eat, you ask me, OK? You're not responsible enough to be allowed in a kitchen by yourself. Got that? What do you do if you want something from the kitchen?’ ‘I ask you,’ said Joe quietly. ‘Why do you have to ask me?’ said Ann. ‘Speak up.’ ‘Because, because I'm not resp, resp, responsible enough,’ replied Joe. ‘Good boy,’ said Ann. ‘Come with me.’ Ann headed down the hallway with Joe following, still trying to will down his erection. Ann took Joe's hand and led him into the master bedroom. She went to the chest of drawers and opened her underwear drawer. ‘These are new,’ Ann said, handing Joe a pair of white cotton interlock full briefs with elasticated waist and leg openings. ‘I don't like the idea of you wearing undies with any access to your wee wee through the front, so you'll wear these all the time now, day and night. They will show up any stains or disgusting marks, so I expect an improvement in your childish toilet habits. Put them on please.’ Carefully, Joe put on the briefs. Ann watched him, then tugged the panties up snug high around his waist. She inspected him front and back, then pulled the front of the briefs away from his stomach and pushed his penis downwards. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘It's only a little bump anyway.' The touch of Ann's cool fingers had done a lot to deflate Joe’s modest manhood, and there certainly wasn't much to show now. ‘Go and put your track pants on. We'll see if you can keep your new panties clean, then I'll think about you being allowed to wear grownup boys' pants with a fly,’ Ann said. ‘You can play in the study until I come back at lunchtime. I don't want to see you until then. I've had enough of you for a while. Off you go.’ Ann went back to the living room. Joe began to stifle his sobs and found his track pants. Before he put them on he glanced at his reflection in the big wardrobe mirror. His pale legs stuck out from what looked like a juvenile girl’s panties. Joe swallowed and pulled on his track pants. At least the new underpants felt warm and comfortable. He felt his penis begin to grow again down between his legs. He dared not put his hands anywhere near it. He went to the study, avoiding looking into the living room. To be continued

This story takes place a couple of months after Mission Improbable, and about half a year after Keeping Secrets. It's hard for me to tell, but I don't think it's strictly necessary to read the previous stories to enjoy this one, but they do contain quite a bit of background information. And as always, I will be updating the tags as the different parts are posted to avoid spoilers. The same thing applies to the title. I just haven't been able to come up with a good one yet. (Suggestions are welcome) Updates for this text will be less regular than my previous stories since I'm still in the process of writing this one. ----------------- "Damnit, damnit, damnit!" Tracy gave her office door repeated kicks as she tried to turn the key. The humidity-warped door frame finally surrendered and the key turned in the lock with a metallic scrape. Pushing the door open with her shoulder, Tracy backed through it, pulling the suitcase containing her drones and the remote control systems over the threshold. She kicked the door closed and glared out of the window across the room. The rain was pouring down outside and even the quick run across the street from the parking garage had soaked her to the bone. Tracy hated rain. At least she hated rain when she had to be outdoors in it. Being curled up with a good book or a movie while the rain was beating against the window was a near-perfect afternoon. Also, the rain made her short hair frizzy. Usually Tracy's hair would refuse to be anything other than straight, even if she used ozone layer-ruining amounts of industrial-strength hair spray. So Tracy considered the damp, unmanageable half-curls a personal insult. Tracy opened the suitcase and removed all the drones, leaving them on her desk to dry. Then she headed for the bathroom, every squishing step leaving wet footprints on the floor. Tracy kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her jacket, hanging it to dry over the top of the door. The jeans were more of a struggle to get off. Even though Tracy favoured baggy trousers, they still seemed to cling to her legs, resisting every effort to be removed. After finally managing to pull the wet denim down past her hips along with her underwear, Tracy tried to step out of the pants, only to lose her balance and almost fall face-first against the door. She caught herself at the last second and sat down on the toilet to peel off the stubborn fabric. Her t-shirt was next, landing with a splat next to the inside-out jeans. Tracy stood and leaned on the sink for a moment, staring at the woman in the mirror. She looked wet and miserable; like a kitten after a bath. Tracy reached into the shower and turned on the water. It cycled through its customary three seconds of lukewarm before proceeding to glacial, then boiling, before settling at a somewhat comfortable temperature. She stepped into the shower, feeling the water pound down on her scalp. Her entire body felt gross and greasy. I guess that's what I get from having a three-day stakeout above a fast food joint. She poured a generous amount of shampoo into her hand. As she massaged it into her hair, a flowery smell filled the room. Hopefully it would get rid of the smell of deep fryer fumes. She couldn't wait to put the entire case behind her. It had started out innocently enough: A husband suspecting his wife of cheating on him. When he left town, Tracy had followed the wife to a no-tell hotel. Something in the building next to the hotel had made her small drones go completely haywire. So after having retrieved the drones, Tracy had had to resort to renting a room below her target and using an old-fashioned borescope through the ventilation system. The wife had not been having an affair. She was either having eight different affairs, or she was working as a prostitute. Five men, two women, and one person who had arrived dressed as Richard Nixon and stayed in costume the whole time. She hadn't left the room for three days. On the second day she had taken a break from having sex to run a five-hour high-stakes poker game. Tracy had to admit she was impressed with the woman's stamina. Over the entire three days, she hadn't slept or eaten anything, consuming nothing but copious amounts of alcohol and drugs that Tracy couldn't identify. Tracy had taken pictures of everyone she could, but only to document what went on. The woman's husband hadn't paid for identification, so she would have to ask him if he even wanted that after having seen the pictures. She hoped he would, since that would mean extra money for very little actual work. Tracy would mostly be waiting while the computer did all the heavy lifting. I'm going to sleep for a week. It had been almost sixty hours of watching people having sex through a fish-eye lens with no sleep and only rushed bathroom breaks. Usually Tracy would wear diapers during stakeouts, and not just for the convenience of fewer bathroom breaks. But after having taken one look at the shower in the room she'd rented, she had decided that there was no way she was going to risk tetanus and seven other diseases by using it. Tracy rested her forehead against the wall, watching the soap suds being rinsed off her body and spiralling down the drain. She let her hand wander down her stomach. She scratched the stubble she found and sighed. I guess I'll have to fix that. She grabbed the razor and soap and carefully shaved. She didn't actually need to, but she preferred to be clean-shaven when wearing diapers. It was less itchy, and the smooth skin felt better against the diaper. It also had the added bonus of getting praise from Kat. Tracy turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, drying herself before wrapping the towel around herself. She picked up the clothes and hung them all to dry over the shower curtain rod, on the sink or wherever she could find room. The bathroom would stink of old fry oil, but at least the rest of the tiny apartment wouldn't. She opened the tiny window ever so slightly before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. I guess I'm doing laundry as well tomorrow. Tracy checked that the front door was locked then headed for the bedroom. She pulled the curtains closed and let the towel fall to the floor. What she wanted to do most of all was just to lie down and go to sleep. However, there was still one thing she needed to do. Reaching into the large plastic box under the bed, she pulled out one of her thick overnight diapers and unfolded it on the bed. Kat had picked out the overnight diapers using some very clear criteria. They had to be so thick that Tracy would have to waddle while wearing them. They also had to be big and noisy enough that they'd be pretty much impossible to hide. And finally, they had to be absorbent enough that Tracy could wear them for an entire night without risking a leak. Tracy sat down on the diaper and lay back. When she sprinkled baby powder on herself, she smiled as the fine white powder tickled her freshly shaved and sensitive skin. Spreading her legs far apart Tracy pulled the diaper up between them and held it to her stomach with one hand while taping it in place with the other. The thick material felt almost like a giant gloved hand cupping her entire crotch. It was a little too stiff to be comfortable, but Tracy knew that how to fix that. She scooted herself to the corner of the bed and sat there, rocking back and forth, using the corner to soften the material. It also had the added benefit of feeling good, but Tracy was too tired to even masturbate. She just wanted to sleep. Pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head, she punched her pillow a couple of times to give it the right shape, pulled a thin blanket up to cover herself and fell asleep almost instantly.

Hey there readers! I hope you're still enjoying Academy Works. If you wanna start at the beginning (which I recommend, though it's not required!), you should read Academy I (Part 1), Academy B (Part 2), and Academy T (Part 3). Academy K is a bit more like A:T, but there's a lot less direct control. I really like this one because I'm playing with concepts of social manipulation and out-group biases. But I hope it's still fun to read nonetheless! If you want to support me, here's a Patreon link you can go to. Thanks to everyone who reads, likes, and/or leaves comments! ~Mia~ --------------------- Academy KBy Mia Moore "Unbound strength is not found at the end of the hermit’s pilgrimage, but throughout every step." -The Source Chapter One Kione Williams sat nervously at a table in a brightly lit room. The muscles in her arms ached for no good reason as she tried to lift them up off the table's surface. She looked at her pink palms, lighter than the rest of her skin, and stretched her fingers as far as they would allow. It hurt, but in a good way. Kione looked at the walls. They were pink, but every so often they looked green instead. She took a deep breath and counted to four. Hold, and release. The walls were pink, she was sure of it. The last thing Kione remembered was seeing that black van on her street. She was walking home from work and the headlights were off, but the running lights glowed an awkward orange. The whole sidewalk was awash with that same hue. The door of the pink room opened and a man stepped in. He was dressed in a black suit with a clipboard in his hand. Kione took another steady breath as he took a seat across from her. "Hello Kione. My name is Eli. Do you know where you are?" Kione nodded her head. She couldn't remember anything between the growl of that black van and opening her eyes in the pink room, but she knew where she was. How? She couldn't say for sure. "The Academy," Kione answered. Eli nodded slowly. If he was surprised by her answer, he didn't show it. "We are going to help you get better," Eli told her. "The Priestess can fix you." "I appreciate your concern," Kione said evenly, "but I don't need help." Eli opened the file on his desk. He flipped a few pages until he found one that he was looking for. Then he asked: "How long have you been seeing things?" Kione looked away and leaned back in her chair. It always came back to this. "Listen, I'm sure you mean well." That was a lie. For some reason, Kione didn't trust this man any further than she could throw him. And with the way her arms were hurting, and the size of Eli, that wasn't very far at all. "I have it under control. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to leave." "And where do you imagine you’ll be going?" Questions like that were phrased so open-ended, as though there could be any answer in the world. But the way that Eli had phrased it was clear as day that he only had one right answer in mind. Rarely did Kione have only one answer that seemed right. But right now, that was unimportant. Eli was waiting for an answer, and Kione knew she was screwed no matter what she said. "Wonderland? With the White Rabbit, and the Queen of Hearts?" "You’re a funny one,” Eli replied, dryly. He wasn’t smiling. "What color are the walls, Kione?" "Pink," Kione said without hesitation. "Are you sure?" Eli asked, tilting his head to the side. "Yes." Kione had made up her mind: the walls were pink. Certainty was never something she could stumble into on accident anymore; she had to make her own certainty. Eli got up from the table and walked to the door. He opened it and stepped outside. "Are you coming?" he asked. Kione nodded and stood up. The muscles in her thighs started to ache and her knees buckled beneath her. She braced herself on the table and steadied herself, then she followed Eli out of the room. Wherever he was taking her, it was better than sitting in that chair. As Kione followed down the hall, she noticed her feet. Bare. Where had her shoes gone? She noticed her pants next - white cotton, the texture of hospital scrubs - and a matching button up shirt. She probably looked like an orderly out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Kione didn't like the resemblance. At the end of the long white hall was a single door. Eli led the way through it, outside and into the sunlight. It took a moment for Kione’s eyes to adjust. There was grass - too green, like a Hollywood movie set - and a consistent blue sky with clouds that didn’t seem to move. And the sound of... children playing? Giggling? Kione looked down the hill she stood atop, Eli by her side, at the scene below her. From up there, they looked like children, but something in her head told her otherwise. Adults. All adults, like her. But acting like children. Dressed like children. Some played hopscotch. Some played tag. Some were tossing a ball around. A few dozen, maybe fifty. "What is this?" Kione asked. "Salvation," Eli responded. She looked around the large space; the adult children played in the center of a pentagonal valley, with five hills that formed the shape of a star. Past that, there was nothing but a sea of grass. Atop each of the other four hills there were structures. Not houses, not buildings... but playground equipment, like you might have expected to find in a school yard. Or, well, a really expensive school yard, like one of those private schools that churned out damaged adults. "I don't understand how this is supposed to—" Kione turned to Eli, but he wasn't there. The door where she came out wasn't there either. She hesitated at the space where she expected the door should be and reached out to touch it, but her hand went right through. There was no door. Was Eli real? Was any of this? Kione took a deep breath. Five things she could see. The massive blacktop at the bottom of the hill, with adults playing hopscotch. Swing sets in lines of six, flanked on both sides with colorful seats. Picnic tables and swaths of blankets decorating the sides of the other four hills. Huge play-scapes - or maybe small play-towns - on each of the hills, painted in different colors: red, yellow, blue, and green. And finally, in the center of the valley, adorned with pictures and ornaments, a large door stood upright. A door that didn't seem to go anywhere at all. Maybe things she could see was a bad place to start. Kione closed her eyes and took another breath. Four things she could feel. The sharp grass beneath her feet. The slight breeze against her forehead. The ache of her legs as she stood. The gravity pulling on her, tilted every so slightly forward. Three things she could hear. Laughter. Bouncing balls. Music, like from a music box. Two things she could smell. Grass, like it was recently cut, though it didn't look like it had been. Kione knew always to trust her nose over her eyes. And lavender. One thing she could taste. Moisture. Humidity. She was thirsty, and this place was alive. When Kione opened her eyes again, it was just in time to see a group of kids - or adults dressed like kids - walking up the hill toward her. "I saw her first!" "Nuhuh, Marky saw her first an' told you an' I saw her before that!" "Nuhuh." "Yuhhuh." "She looks like a Banana." "You wouldn't even know a Banana!" "I am a Banana!" "I think she's umm... she's defi...defin... um. She's a Cherry!" The chittering of the group of would-be-children terminated when the group of six made it to the top of the hill. A girl - a woman, in a pretty gingham dress the color of freshly picked red apples - was the first to speak directly to Kione. "Welcome to the Kindergarten!" "I... thank you..." Kione paused and looked at the six residents. Each was dressed very specifically, with a dominant color and an accent of white. White socks, white hair ties, white frills along the hems of their dresses. Even the boys wore shirts with white sleeves or white laces on their shoes. Two green, two yellow, two red... but no blue. "I'm sorry," Kione apologized, though she hadn't done anything wrong. "What is this place, exactly? And do you know where the exit is?" "Oh gosh." "Oh golly." "Oh goodness." "We just said it's the Kindergarten," a girl in green echoed, but she didn’t sound annoyed about it. "And there's no exit, this is your home now. What's your name?" "I'm sorry, but I can't stay here." Kione skipped over the whole name thing. If these adults really were children, then it was best they didn't get attached to her. "I have a job; I'm a counsellor. If I don't get back to my clients soon, they'll worry about me. You understand, don't you?" "Nuhuh." "Nope." "She's definitely a Blueberry..." "I'm Robin," continued the girl in the red gingham dress who did the introductions. "I know it's confusing but you'll be okay. Tonight there's gonna be a Joining when the others get here, an' then you'll feel more at home." "I... I'm really sorry, but I can't..." Kione wasn't getting anywhere, and she knew it. She looked around the hilly parkway again, then down at the door in the center of it all. Free-standing on a frame with no wall. They saw it too, didn't they? "That door," Kione asked. "Does it go anywhere?" The kids exchanged awkward looks, but Robin spoke up right away. "That's the Ever After. When we earn it, the Priestess will open the door and lead us through. But only one of us gets to go at a time. So we gotta be on our best behavior." Kione nodded in understanding. This place was some kind of cult. An indoctrination of sorts. She'd suffered through enough loneliness and ostracism that Kione knew how important it was to belong. But her knowledge gave her power too. They wouldn't sway her so easily. Nonetheless, Kione always was good at putting on a face. "What do you mean 'Priestess'?" "Well when—" one of the others began to explain, but Robin shushed him with a wave of her hand. She shook her head softly, before taking over the explanation. "After the Joining, your leader will explain everything to you." Nobody seemed willing to argue with Robin, and when nobody else spoke up, she continued. "Do you Double Dutch?" "Um..." It seemed like such a non-sequitur. A yellow-shirted boy chimed in: "It's a dumb skipping game for girls." "Shut up, Wesley," the girl wearing a yellow dress snapped back and rolled her eyes. "It's not dumb you're just bad at it." "Cause I'm not a girl." "Maybe you should be, you keep talking about it!" He puffed out his cheeks and went quiet. Robin continued: "It's a game. Do you know how to play? Come down wif' us, okay?" Robin was mostly eloquent, but with some misspoken words here and there. It was weird. Cute, but weird. Kione followed the group down the hill, looking back at where she came from. There was no playscape at the top of it. It was different. Why was it different? Soon Kione and the others made it to the bottom of the hill and the grass made way for blacktop. The small, dull stones and the sun-soaked ground made the bottoms of Kione's feet hurt. A lot of other kids - all dressed primarily in one of the four colors - looked her way, but nobody else approached to make an introduction. Robin seemed to have an odd level of control over the whole situation. Maybe she's the leader, Kione wondered. If she is, then she's the best ally. And the most dangerous enemy. "You didn' tell me your name," Robin prompted again, "an' I can't introduce you if you don't tell me your name." The boys split away to play their games, and the other two girls - one in green and one in yellow - led her to where a gaggle of girls were jumping rope. "Kione." In the end, ingratiating herself and earning the trust of the residents would benefit her more than keeping her distance. If Kione learned anything from work, it was that rapport was everything. "Well Kione, it's nice to meet you. Come this way." As Robin approached, the mixture of girls - in reds, blues, yellows, and greens - wound down their rhythmic chant. They looked at Kione excitedly. "This is Kione," Robin said. "Hi Kione!" They all intoned, in unison, like addressing a school teacher. "Is there gon' be a Joining tonight?" one of the girls in blue asked. She had her thumb in her mouth and it drew Kione's attention. She sure seemed to take this 'dress like a kid' thing a little too far. But then again, this whole place seemed a bit too Wonderland for Kione. Maybe she shouldn’t have made that joke with Eli. "There is, but let's just play for now." Robin smiled, and turned to Kione. "Do you wanna do Miss Mary Mack? Or Teddy Bear? Or is there another jump rope game you like most?" "I, uh. Miss Mary Mack would be great." Kione hadn't jumped rope since she was in grade school, but she was pretty damn good. She hoped that jump rope was like riding a bike, and she wouldn't humiliate herself in front of a bunch of overgrown school children. As Kione stepped into the middle of the two jump ropes, the girls on either end - one in yellow, one in red - began mercifully slow. "Miss.... Mary.... Mack, Mack, Mack....all dressed in black, black, black, with silv-" Kione made it about that far before tripping, and the plastic ropes caught in her feet. There were laughs and giggles, but nothing too condescending. Nothing like how an adult would make fun of someone or discourage them for trying. It just seemed like the kids were having fun, and Kione didn't know what to make of that. "I wanna try again," Kione declared.

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

Rei was on her way home from school blushing after she had another accident “I hope mommy doesn’t find out I’ll have to be careful getting these dirty clothes in the laundry

This will be my first story that I have written on DailyDiapers. I don't consider myself a writer and most of my writing experience over the last ten years has been scientific papers. I welcome any constructive criticism and feedback to make the story better. This story is something that I have been thinking about writing for around a year and I think I have all of the major plot points down with an ending planned and epilogue. I don't know exactly how long this story will be but it will be a novel length. I plan on averaging a chapter a week at this point. The story will center around our main character William Gauss, who is an applied math graduate student at Arizona State University. The story is centered around an illness that Will gets in the beginning. This story will be a slow burn in the beginning, as far as ABDL content goes, but if you stick with the story, our main character will be in the deep in of diapers soon enough. Since I am new to writing, I did base all my characters off of people in my life but all the names and relationship types are changed. I also am trying to make this story as realistic as possible, so I will use real places in the US. I plan to draw a lot from my own experiences for this story, but I have never lived in the places or attended the universities in this story. The only science fiction of this story will be Will's illness, but I will do my best to make it as realistic as possible from a medical standpoint. Saving Grace Chapter One I leaned back into my chair, stretching my arms above my head. It was getting close to 5 pm and after a long afternoon of grading 60 calculus II student's homework, I had finally finished for the day. Shutting my eyes for a second, I contemplated the lowly life of an applied mathematics Ph.D. student and Teaching Assistant. Don't get me wrong, I love the classes I am taking, and I discovered that I love teaching the calculus recitation classes and working at the tutoring center. Even my students tell me that I make a great teacher. But out of all my responsibilities, there is one thing that I have the hardest time motivating myself to do; grading 4 to 8 hours a week. With 60 students, it can be very mind-numbing. I open my eyes and look around my small office. I share this office with two other Ph.D. students, but unlike them, I use our office. They like to do most of their work at home if they can and I usually only see them briefly a few times a week. Not that I don't mind, it's nice to pretty much have my own office. I shut my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack and grabbed my bike that was leaning against the wall opposite of my desk. Opening my office door and pushing my bike out, I turn around and lock my door for the day. Pushing my bike down the corridor, I make my way to the elevator. As I get halfway there I hear someone behind me shout out, ``Hey Will.'' I turn around to see it is one of my friends and fellow grad students Steven walking down the corridor toward me. Steven is a guy of average height, maybe a little shorter, with an average build. He has shaggy black hair, a full beard that is kept neat and trimmed, and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. We have been friends since starting at Arizona State University almost two years ago. We met at in-service week, the week before classes started. As he made his way to me, I said, "What's up, Steven.'' "Getting ready to leave for the day; have you started on the Abstract Algebra homework yet? I am stuck on the proof dealing with factor rings,'' Steven told me. I said, "I started all the proofs for each problem but have not really delved into trying to solve them yet. I plan on spending a few hours tomorrow trying to get the homework done.'' "Cool, hit me up tomorrow when you get done with classes and we can meet up and work on the homework together,'' he said. "Will do, I will shoot you a text when I am walking out of my last class tomorrow. See you tomorrow.'' I made my way to the elevator and hit the call button. The doors open up to reveal no one inside, so I push my bike into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. After a short ride, the doors open up and I push my bike towards the exit. Hitting the handicap button by one of the exit doors. I push my bike through the exit and say a silent prayer to myself, thanking God for the Americans with Disabilities Act, or it would be a hassle getting my bike in and out of the building. Walking out of the Wexler Building, the eight-story building that has been my home during the day since moving here, I push my bike to the end of the sidewalk. I hop on my bike and begin my two-mile daily commute to my apartment just off campus. It is early March and even though I am in the desert climate of Tempe, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. The temperature can still get chilly and thankfully, I have my hoodie on to protect me from the slight chill in the air on my bike ride home. As I am riding my bike through campus, I think to myself how different Arizona is compared to my home state of Georgia. The place I called home until moving here a little over 18 months ago. The high temperatures never bothered me too much because of the lack of humidity, but the lack of humidity did take me some time to get used to. I definitely had to start using lotion and lip balm regularly to keep my skin from peeling off my body. Looking off into the distance, I can make out one of the sights that make me love this place, the mountains that surround a third of the city. After a short 10-minute bike ride, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, passing by my parked silver 2011 Toyota 4-runner that I rarely drive during the week. My apartment building is a two-story building, with a stucco exterior with multiple light colors adorning the walls. I hop off my bike at one of the stairwells that lead to my apartment on the second floor. Hoisting my bike over one of my shoulders, I make my way up the stairs and down the catwalk that runs along the front doors to all the apartments. Standing at the door of my home, I unlock the door and push my bike inside. Walking into my one-bedroom apartment, I lean my bike against one of the chairs of my dining room table. My home is not the most luxurious, but as a single student in my twenties, I made it a very cozy place for me. Furnish by mostly thrift stores and use items off Facebook. The main open floor plan of my apartment has a desk on one side of the front door facing the window, made using two old filing cabinets with a one-inch thick piece of stained hardwood to form the top of the desk. Beside my desk is a large whiteboard mounted on the wall for writing reminders and working on homework. My office area is complete with a nice leather chair. Beside my office area is my living room area complete with a cloth couch with two end tables on either side with lamps and family pictures on top of the tables. In front of my couch is a nice used area rug with a hardwood coffee table stained a dark brown. On the wall opposite my desk is my large flat-screen TV. mounted on the wall itself. On the other side of my front door is the dining area with a white wooden table and four white chairs with wicker seats. The kitchen area consists of a large island with a stove in its center, and cabinets below the counter, and a breakfast bar on the other side. There are three hanging light fixtures above the island. Running along the wall are floor-to-ceiling cabinets with counters and a sink, dishwasher, and refrigerator. The walls are painted off-white with an accent light green painted on the kitchen wall and island. The floors are a composite light wood pattern that runs throughout the apartment. There is an alcove behind the kitchen that leads to the bathroom and the bedroom. I kick my shoes off by the door and I am greeted with the smell of pot roast that has been cooking in the crock-pot all day while I was at school. I walk through the kitchen into my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a queen-sized bed in its center with a nightstand on one side with a lamp and my wireless phone charger sitting on top. To my right is a large dresser with a lamp and a middle-size flat-screen TV. on top. All the furniture is made of hardwood and stained dark brown to match. Beside the doorway is a closet that runs the length of the wall with large light green sliding doors. Tucked away on one side of the closet is a washer/dryer combo. Walking to my dresser, I pull out one of the drawers to grab a pair of gray sweats and a white tee shirt. I strip my clothes off from the day and throw them into the hamper beside my dresser. Quickly slipping on my sweats and tee shirt, I can now put the long day behind me. Walking back into my kitchen, I take a small pot from one of the cabinets by my stove and set it on the stovetop. Turning around I reach into my pantry cabinet and grab the half-empty large bag of white rice. Turning the stove on, I mix enough rice and water into the pot to make 4 cups of rice. With twenty minutes to spare, I walk over and collapse on the couch, and grab the remote to turn on Netflix. Flipping through Netflix for about 10 minutes, I could not make up my mind and decided to re-watch Taylor Thomson's latest special. A few minutes into the show, my rice is now done and I get a bowl out of the cabinet by the sink and a fork out of the drawer next to the sink. I serve myself half the cooked rice and take the lid off my crock pot to ladle in a big helping of pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I sit back down on my couch with my dinner and a can of sparkling water and continue watching my show. I take a bite and savor the flavor of the roast and how tender it is after slow cooking all day. I may not be a chef, but when I set my mind to it, I can always put together a good home-cooked meal. After finishing the bowl and taking a few sips from my beverage, I decide on seconds and finish off the rest of the rice with another helping out of the crock-pot. With my stomach full and my show wrapping up, I go to the sink to rinse out my bowl, and the pot and load them into the dishwasher. Turning my attention to my pot roast, I slid the pot with the lid out of the crock-pot and set it into the refrigerator to heat up and eat off later this week. With it only being 8 pm I lay back down on the couch and turn on Shane Gillis' latest special. As I lay there watching t.v., I notice that I am getting tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I think to myself, that the day must have taken more out of me than I thought. Deciding to call it an early day, I turn off the TV, throwing the now empty can in the trash, and walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed. Walking into my small bathroom, with a small white vanity with a sink and a cabinet mounted on the wall above with a built-in mirror, a toilet right beside it, and a bathtub/shower along the wall opposite the door. The bathroom is completed with white walls and light brown tile for flooring. I look into the mirror and see a young man looking back. I am tall, at 6 feet even, with a slim build. I have dark brown hair, a full beard that is kept neatly trimmed, and hazel eyes that seem to change from an almost brown to an almost green color depending on the lighting. I begin my short nightly routine by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash. After spitting a couple of mouthfuls of water from the sink faucet, I look back into the mirror, taking note that my hair is starting to get shaggy. I make a mental note to get a haircut this weekend. I take a pit-stop over to the toilet to empty my bladder and with a quick wash of my hands I move towards my bedroom. Crawling into bed under the covers, I set my alarm for the morning, noting that it was only 9:30 pm, and set it on the charger. Turning over in bed it only takes me a few minutes to succumb to sleep. I wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, with the immediate need to throw up and throw up now! I bolt from my bed and rush to the bathroom. I make it over the toilet just in time to projectile vomit all over the bowl. My stomach is twisted in knots and feels like it is turning inside out as I throw up the contents of my stomach. When I finally stopped, I took some toilet paper to wipe my mouth with and flushed the toilet. Before the toilet could finish flushing, I was hit with another immediate need. I need to poop and I need to poop now! Turning around and jerking my sweat pants and boxer briefs down, I plant my butt on the toilet seat in time for a massive wave of semi-solid poop to exit my rear. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I can finally take stock of what is going on. I notice that all my joints ache and I feel like I am coming down with either the flu or a stomach virus. After wiping, I turn around to flush and notice that I pooped a lot. The amount suggests that I have not gone in a few days, even though I had a normal bowel movement the morning before like I do every morning. Stepping over to the sink I wash my hands and wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I step into the kitchen and grab a glass of water to sip on. I walk back to my bedroom with the glass of water. Looking at my phone, the time is shortly after 1 am. I hope to myself that I feel better by tomorrow morning. I crawl back into bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I pass out. Waking again, I notice that it is still dark outside and I feel nauseous and I have to poop again. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to have my bowels explode into the toilet. As I sit there, I get more nauseated and I have to lean over to the bathtub to throw up what consists of stomach bile into it. Again, my joints ache, and I now have a headache to add to the list. I sit for a moment to collect myself. I wipe, flush, and rinse the tub out. I go to the sink to wash my hands and mouth out and go back to bed. As I am lying in bed, I think to myself that I am glad I don't have any teaching responsibilities tomorrow, I will definitely need to stay home from school. No less than 5 minutes later I fall back to sleep.

Preamble This story takes place in the 'New Beginnings' world of "Rehabilitating Cathy." However, it involves a different aspect of the world and introduces a new technology. Readers contrasting this story with "Rehabilitating Cathy" will find it significantly less 'hard core' though not without strong sexual elements and scenarios. Stylistically this story is an experiment. Rather than have the entire plot entirely framed out and mostly written as I start, I plan to construct this story as a number of self-contained vignettes. These vignettes will, largely, involve the same characters in various combinations. After I have done presenting all of the bits and pieces you will be able to assemble a sequential story out of them, but they will be presented out of sequence. I will endeavor to avoid deus ex machina by presenting key facts before scenarios that depend on them. But it may require some rereading, analysis, and reflection to figure out just what is going on and how all of the machinery operates.

The one thing Madelyn desires most in the world is to wear diapers again, and she is prepared to do anything to make that wish come true. As inexplicable as that desire is for a twelve-year-old girl, it is one she has obsessed over for the past three years. Ever since Madelyn tried on a pull-up that a distant cousin had used for bedwetting, the thought of what it would be like to forego her underwear for that padded, crinkling sensation between her legs has been a desire she has been unable to shake. Every other plan to get her hands on diapers or pull-ups has failed up to now. But this time it is going to be different. This time it is going to work. This time she isn’t going to back out at the last minute. The plan is simple. All Madelyn has to do is intentionally begin to wet the bed at night. Then, her parents will have no choice but to get her the diapers she so badly desires. What could possibly go wrong? Chapter 1: Daydreams in Class I will not chicken out this time. That was what I had told myself two days ago. That was also what I had told myself yesterday. Third time was the charm, right? It was easy to put a bold face to my latest harebrained scheme to acquire diapers from the safety of my daydreams. It was much harder when the time came to actually carry out the plan that had been brewing in the back of my mind for the past year – one I had finally decided to put into motion this week. Why would a 12-year-old girl want to wear diapers in the first place? I don’t know. All I know is that for the past three years, nothing I have done has been successful at getting this obsession out of my head. I certainly didn’t have any interest in being a baby. My younger brother, Jackson, is only six years old. I discovered where Mom kept all his old baby stuff long ago. I’ve tried his old pacifiers, bottles, and sippy cups. None of those items held any appeal for me. I can’t stand kids’ TV shows. I can’t color to save my life. And don’t get me started on dollhouses, barbies, and whatever other toys babies like to play with. In every aspect of my life other than this strange desire for diapers, I wanted to act my age. My latest plan all started a year ago with a magazine and a desire to procrastinate on my homework. There had to be some level of irony to the fact that this latest idea came about when I was seated on the porcelain throne. Mom had almost a dozen different magazines she subscribed to. Most of them found their way to the bathroom, which was also probably the only circumstance where I would have even considered reading them in the first place. I was already finished doing my business, but leaving the bathroom meant needing to continue a homework assignment I’d been slowly picking away at for the past hour. The only reason I even bothered to pick up a copy of the Reader’s Digest on that day about a year ago was for the few sections where it had funny jokes and stories. That, and I had left my smartphone in the bedroom. I really didn’t know how my parents managed when they were my age. I skimmed through the first section of jokes. Whoever had put together this edition of the magazine had totally mailed it in. There was a completely unoriginal one about redheads and souls that had me tempted to toss the magazine in the garbage. I mean, with how many magazines Mom had, would she even miss it? Redhead jokes get old really quick when you’ve had people telling you them your whole life. It has been forever since I’d been told one I hadn’t heard before. And even longer since I’ve been told one that was actually funny. Maybe I would have better luck with the second humor section toward the back of the magazine. I flipped through the pages casually when one of the advertisements caught my eye. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. There it was. Right on the page. An exact replicate of the pull-up I had briefly stolen from a cousin two years ago. But there was more. That pull-up from two years ago had been the boys’ designs. This ad showed that there were ones for girls as well. And even though I’d had a pretty good growth spurt in the past two years, the product info indicated that I wasn’t even close to being too big to wear them. I didn’t tuck the magazine in the trash, but I did take it with me from the bathroom, burying it deep inside my box of miscellaneous things in my bedroom. I’ve looked at that page at least once a day for the past year. “Earth to Maddy. Earth to Maddy. We’re calling in.” My head jerked upright from the hard wooden desk in my math classroom to the sound of laughter. “Here!” I called back to our math teacher. “Well, thank you for joining us again, Maddy. Now,” he said, pointing to a cluster of numbers, letters, and symbols on the whiteboard, “that we’ve isolated ‘x’ on this side of the equation. Can you tell us what it is?” I had enough trouble paying attention in classes that I liked. For ones I hated? The temptation to daydream was hard to resist. And I hated math class. It was hard enough when we were dealing with regular numbers. I would be lucky to scrape by with a “B-” on my report card. But now, with the end of the school year in sight, my math teacher had ever-so-helpfully decided to give us a sneak peek of some of the things we got to look forward to learning next year in eighth grade. I sucked at long division. But it at least made sense conceptually. The numbers were real, even if doing the work to get the answer was tedious. But now there was this thing the teacher called Algebra, where we were supposed to be adding up letters as well as numbers, which was beyond my ability to comprehend. Every “x” and “y” on the whiteboard seemed designed to taunt me. May as well put a “D” or a “C” on the board, as that was about what I could expect on my report card next year if this was what was in store for me. I stared blankly at the whiteboard with the sinking feeling that even if I had been paying attention for the past five minutes, I wouldn’t be any closer to understanding what was going on. “Um,” I said, picking at my nails while I continued to stare ahead. I had to at least give some kind of guess. But my brain and my mouth sometimes aren’t exactly in sync with one another. “The spot.” “I’m sorry. What was that?” Mr. Thompson asked. “You know, the spot. Like, ‘x’ marks the spot.” The classroom was full of laughter again. This time with me rather than at me. I made eye contact with one of my friends, Angie, who turned to look back at me from the front row. We shared a smirk at the joke. Mr. Thompson sighed. “Everyone settled down, please.” He gave me a look that suggested he might be once again telling my parents about how I had apparently been disruptive in class. “Now, Maddy, if you had been paying attention as we worked through this problem, you would know that the answer was actually…” I didn’t even manage to pay attention long enough to get to the answer to what ‘x’ happened to be or what sorcery had been used to arrive at that conclusion. I fixed my eyes on a spot on the whiteboard, a method I had mastered to trick teachers into thinking I was actually paying attention to their nonsense when I’d rather be daydreaming. My thoughts slipped back toward my plans for this evening. The third time had to be the charm, right? It wasn’t really my fault the first two attempts at wetting the bed had failed. The first night, I had simply been too tired. We’d had an exhausting soccer game that evening that had gone on to overtime, and we’d been shorthanded, so I hadn’t spent almost any time on the bench. I had fully intended to stay up past midnight but had used the excuse of being tired to back out of it. Instead, I let myself drift off to sleep without wetting the bed. During the second night, I’d managed to stay up until 1 a.m., but I had found it impossible to make myself pee. I simply hadn’t had enough to drink. I had considered simply pouring water on my bed, but I was worried that might not be convincing enough should my parents make a closer examination of my bedding. I could have snuck off for a glass of water in the kitchen and stayed up another hour, but again, I chickened out and pushed the plan off to another night. But tonight was going to be different. I was going to be drinking as much water as I could tonight, and I would skip going to the toilet before going to bed. Plus, tonight was Friday, which meant it was pizza night, so as long as I picked out a caffeinated soda, I should be able to keep myself up late enough for this plan to work. I realized that I was likely going to have to keep this up for multiple nights. One random night of bedwetting — after having never wet the bed since I had been potty trained at the age of two — wouldn’t be enough to convince my parents to take action. But if I could have the courage to keep it up long enough, they would have no choice but to purchase the pull-ups shown on the magazine page for me. I would make sure to leave that old magazine out in a way that would get Mom to see the advertisement. It was a desperate move, but I couldn’t wait any longer for the pull-ups. I knew from other advertisements I’d seen that these pull-ups were sold in stores. Had there been a store close by that I could bike to, I might have considered going out and purchasing some for myself on a day when I had been left at home on my own. But that wasn’t an option for me. I still had over three years to go before I would be old enough to get my own driver’s license. I had already waited three years for this. I couldn’t possibly wait three more. “Maddy. Earth to Maddy. Hey!” There was the sound of hands clapping together a single time. More laughter. I blinked rapidly, adjusting my gaze over to Mr. Thompson, where he was standing at the front of the classroom with his palms still pressed together from making the noise he had used to so rudely interrupt my daydreams. “Maddy, please just take one of the homework sheets and pass the rest behind you.” I looked straight ahead, where Chloe was holding a stack of papers with her arm stretched out toward me. She rolled her eyes at me as I grabbed them from her. In a rare moment of self-control, I did not stick my tongue out at her. I took one of the homework sheets and passed the remaining one behind me to where one of my two best friends was sitting. The three of us had initially been seated next to each other. But Mr. Thompson decided a few weeks into the school year that doing so was too much of a distraction. Emma, who had been seated to my right, was switched to the seat behind me. Angie, who had been on my left, had worse luck. Not only was she moved to the front of the class, but she had to sit next to Ryan, who had the disgusting habit of picking his nose in public. But that was OK. We’d have the whole weekend together. Tonight was the beginning of the playoffs for our U13 soccer team. We’d had a moderately successful season, meaning we’d managed to somehow win more games than we lost over the past several months. It was disappointing that the spring soccer season was so close to coming to an end, but we had the opportunity to keep it going this weekend if we could manage to string a few victories together. The bell rang as the final class of the week came to an end. Mr. Thompson belted out more instructions about the homework as I slid the piece of paper, with all its archaic symbols and equations, into my backpack. I’d just ask Angie and Emma later to see if there was something I’d missed in his instructions. I joined my two friends in the hallway. We all lived in the same neighborhood, so we rushed off to catch the bus together. They chatted excitedly about the game tonight, but I walked alongside them in silence. My thoughts were somewhere entirely else. My mind settled on the image of the pull-up I had held in my hand three years ago. The few minutes where I had examined it thoroughly, my fingers tracing over its whole surface. How it had felt to wear it for a couple of minutes before I was forced to set it aside, not knowing the opportunity was one I wouldn’t get again for years. Should everything go as planned, I would be wearing a pull-up again in less than a week. But to accomplish that, I needed to wet the bed tonight – on purpose. <><><> Three years ago If there was a single moment that perhaps best defined the last three years of my life, it was that day three years ago when it all began. The day I first laid eyes on a simple object that would become an obsession I would never be able to shake off. I didn’t cry at the funeral. I knew, intellectually, that this was what people were supposed to do. But even the sight of my aged great-grandfather lying in the open casket hadn’t moved me to tears. It wasn’t as though I wasn’t sad, but it was a more abstract kind of sadness. That kind that has someone thinking heavy thoughts about what happens after death, not that kind that leaves someone bawling on their knees. I had no memories of the man lying in the casket. My parents said I had met my great-grandfather three times. But I had been too young to have any memories of those visits. My older sister, Grace, on the other hand, was devastated. It was her first funeral as well. She had memories of her great-grandfather. The man in the casket was not an abstract concept to her, but the ghost of someone who had played with her and held her in his arms. Jackson cried as well, but that was just because he was a baby. You could never exactly tell what it was that they were upset about most of the time. The three-year-old boy likely just needed a nap. But the funeral home wasn’t where that pivotal event in my life transpired; it was merely marked the event that gave cause for all my distant relations – grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins – to join together from where they were all scattered across the country. The reception after the funeral was where the fateful moment occurred. The adults ate, drank, and smoked while kids split into playing games with others of their age. There was a cohort of preschoolers huddled around a TV, watching stupid kids’ shows. On the other end of the spectrum was a collection of angsty teenagers Grace had abandoned me to hang out with. They weren’t particularly welcoming of youngsters, and my normally friendly sister had shooed me off after I attempted to tag along with her. Not that I cared that much. Other than my sister, teenagers made me a bit apprehensive. Besides, there were a half-dozen other kids my age to hang out with. My mom introduced me to two boys shortly after we arrived at the house for the reception. One of them, Alex, was eight. Though he made clear he would be nine in a few weeks, which would make him as old as me. His younger brother, Timothy, was seven. The boys were distant cousins from half-way across the country. There was some technical term Mom used for exactly what type of cousin they were to me — second cousins, twice removed. That didn’t mean anything to me. All that mattered was that they were my age and more than open to finding some way to play in order to pass the time while the adults did whatever adults did. We hit it off immediately. We did what kids that age normally do. We fell into the habit of playing simple games with each other as if we had been friends all of our lives. The two brothers were staying at the house where the reception was being hosted, so it was only fair that they gave me a tour of the massive building. We explored the expansive backyard, winding our way through the adults in the garden until we were shooed away. We played in the basement for a while, which had foosball and ping-pong tables before the teens decided that was where they wanted to be hanging out instead. But there was still plenty of house to explore. Alex and Timothy led me up a winding staircase to some rooms upstairs, where they had been sleeping while their family stayed with the relatives who were hosting the reception. That’s when I stumbled across a stunning revelation. One that would shape my life for the next three years. Haunt my dreams. Hound my thoughts. Practically drive me crazy as I was often left incapable of thinking of anything else. There was something out-of-place sitting in the corner of the room on top of a pile of discarded laundry. I tended to usually say the first thing that came to mind without regard to whether it was socially appropriate to do so. I wasn’t any better at that at the age of nine. I pointed at a blue undergarment in the corner that didn’t exactly look like a normal piece of underwear. It was not as though I didn’t have a good suspicion of what it was. But I wanted confirmation. “What is that?” Timothy walked casually over to the corner and picked it up. “Oh, that’s my pull-up.” I looked at the item in his hand. He was seven. That couldn’t possibly be his. I felt sure I was the subject of some kind of joke. “Don’t be silly,” I said. “You’re too old to wear pull-ups.” “Older kids sometimes need to wear pull-ups,” he said, still holding the item in his hand. His defiance left me no less confused. I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that even fits you.” I hadn’t intended in any way to dare them to put the pull-up on. But that must be how that statement had come across. Alex snatched the pull-up out of his brother’s hand and tugged it on over his dress pants. “See,” he said. “It fits. We wear them ’cause we still wet the bed.” They were bedwetters. And they weren’t the least bit ashamed of it. That was at least a topic that I understood. I had no intention of teasing or bullying them. While neither my brother nor I were bedwetters, my older sister had wet the bed up until a year or so ago. Why hadn’t I put together a connection between pull-ups and bedwetting? Come to think of it. I wasn’t even sure if Grace had worn pull-ups during her bedwetting phase. She had her own room, which I was very much forbidden from going into, so if she had, there wasn’t any way I would have known about it. When I had first learned of my older sister’s predicament, my parents had sat down with me and calmly explained what bedwetting was and how I was to never shame or tease her about it. And given how privately they had handled her condition, and the fact that it hadn’t ever impacted my life at all, I truthfully hadn’t ever given her bedwetting much of a thought. Alex mistook my pensiveness while considering my sister’s bedwetting to mean that I was still confused about the topic. He launched into a long explanation with words like enuresis, explaining how bedwetting was just a medical condition that he and his brother would grow out of. “Do you wet the bed?” Timothy asked me. “No,” I replied. I came close to continuing my reply and accidentally outing my sister, but I would never do something that mean to her. Alex still had the pull-up around his waist, completely unconcerned with how silly it looked. The pull-up had a picture of Spiderman, my favorite superhero, on the front. I pointed that out, which led to another conversation about which Marvel superheroes we liked best. Timothy was big on Iron Man. But Alex insisted that Batman was better than any of them. My eyes kept glancing down at Alex’s waist. I found myself unable to look away from the pull-up for long. The sight of the pull-up around Alex’s waist raised another thought. That pull-up would fit me just as well. My distant cousin and I were both about the same size, after all. I didn’t question the desire to wear the pull-up. Once the impulse had taken hold of me, there was little else I could think of as I distractedly continued the conversation with my cousins. Our parents called us down for dinner. Alex ripped the pull-up off and tossed it back in the corner of the room before we retreated down the stairs. I was unable to concentrate during dinner. Alex and Timothy were across the table from me, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut about what I had just witnessed. I was filled to the brim with questions, most of which I would have to keep inside unless I were presented with another chance to have a private discussion with those two bedwetting cousins. But there was one question more important than any of them. One perhaps best answered on my own rather than by asking them. What did it feel like to wear a pull-up? While the adults were content to sit and chat around at the table long after their plates were clean, that wasn’t the case for us kids, and soon we were back to running around; Timothy, Alex, and I were joined by another four cousins. Big houses and hide and seek go hand in hand together. We agreed that hiding upstairs in the house was against the rules for the game of hide and seek. That meant that the upstairs room where the pull-ups were waiting for me was technically off-limits. But I didn’t care one bit about the game. Anyway, making the upstairs rooms off-limits had been my idea. An absolutely brilliant stroke of genius for a then nine-year-old girl. In one move, I’d ensured that no one would be up there when I went looking for the pull-up and that I would be safe from anyone following after me. I took quick glances in both directions as I stood at the base of the stairway. Perfect. There were no other kids in sight. I leaped up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time with each upward lunge until I was safely around the corner and out of sight. I encountered my first problem when I made it to the bedroom where Timothy and Alex had been sleeping. I had somehow assumed that the pull-up Alex had ripped off could be fixed. I seemed to recall that the pull-ups my brother had worn a year ago had Velcro sides. But that wasn’t the case with these bedwetting pull-ups for some reason. But there had to be additional pull-ups elsewhere. There couldn’t be any way that the boy’s parents would risk them peeing all over the bed while they were spending the night as guests. I didn’t have any luck in the first suitcase that I looked through, nor the second, but the third one was where I struck gold. There were more than a dozen pull-ups tucked into the side of the suitcase. Surely, they wouldn’t notice if one of them happened to go missing. I grabbed a pull-up and bundled the pull-up into a ball, tucking it into the waistband of my skirt. I was sure that was not nearly as discreet as I thought it was at the time. But, to my good fortune, I was able to make it to a nearby bathroom without being caught. The adults were busy downstairs, and my cousins, who were playing hide and seek, were doing a better job than I was at abiding by the rules. I locked the bathroom door behind me. I double and triple-checked to make sure the door was actually locked. I removed the pull-up from under my skirt and held it in my hands. I didn’t stop then to think through how bizarre the whole situation was at the time. I think I must have stood there looking at it for several minutes. Feeling how it crinkled beneath my touch, testing out the sides to see how far they could stretch, rubbing my fingers down the padded interior. I was completely and utterly fascinated by it. The desire was no more explainable than a moth being drawn to a flame, a kitten to catnip, or a raven to a shiny object. I cautiously slid my arms through the leg holes, stretching the pull-up out in front of me. Not only was it more than stretchy enough for me, but it could probably fit a kid twice as wide as I was. Now came the moment of truth. I removed my skirt and underwear. The pull-up had a side that was helpfully labeled as the back, so I knew which way to put it on. As I brought the pull-up into place around my waist, it was like sliding the final piece of a puzzle into place. I turned around so that I could look at my reflection in the mirror. I lifted up the front of my skirt so that the whole pull-up was in view. It practically came up all the way to my belly button. There was something about the way it hugged my sides, the way the soft padding pressed against my skin as I sat down on the toilet lid and the way it crinkled quietly as I paced across the bathroom that left me completely enamored. There was just one thing left to do. And I didn’t have much time before everyone noticed that I was missing. I lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and sat down while still wearing the pull-up. One of my deepest regrets was that I had went to go potty right before the game of hide and seek began, meaning there wasn’t anything waiting to come out of my bladder at the moment. I tried. I really did. I wanted to know. I had to know. What would it feel like to pee into a pull-up? It couldn’t be bad. Alex and Timothy hadn’t seemed to be put off at all by waking up in a wet pull-up every morning. But nothing happened. The timing was off. My bladder wouldn’t cooperate. And time was up. I needed to be out of the bathroom in a couple of minutes. I considered it a radical idea. What if I put my underwear and skirt over the top of the pull-up? I could continue to wear it until I actually needed to pee. I nearly did it. I really, truly, honestly nearly did it. But then I chickened out. The same way I would, time and time again for years afterward. It was too risky. A small trickle of shame was diluting my euphoria. I knew that despite how ecstatic I was at my discovery, the reality of anyone else discovering this secret — and the relentless shame and teasing that would follow — would be devastating. I wasn’t like Alex or Timothy. I didn’t have the veneer of bedwetting to hide behind as an excuse for wearing a pull-up. I slid the pull-up off of my legs. I intended to put it back in the suitcase. Then it would be like nothing had ever happened. That’s when I encountered a second problem. Apparently, I had gone potty in the pull-up after all. Not a lot, just the teensiest of tinkles. But it was enough to leave a tiny yellow patch the size of a quarter smack dab in the middle of the pull-up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I had even noticed it in the first place. That would have made for an awkward situation for Alex and Timothy had I put the pull-up back in the suitcase. I peered into the trash can. I was in luck. I could make out two pull-ups at the bottom of the small trash can. One had been turned inside out, the color of its interior leaving no doubt as to the truthfulness of Alex’s description of his and his brother’s bedwetting. I bunched up the pull-up and tossed it in the trash can. I didn’t think it was likely that anyone would be paying too much attention to notice the addition of one more pull-up in it. My curiosity sated, I returned to the game of hide and seek, pretending that I had been expertly moving in between hiding places to avoid being spotted. I didn’t think anymore about the pull-up until later that evening when we were lying in bed at the hotel. Jackson was little enough that he could sleep on a padded mat and sleeping bag on the floor while Grace and I shared a bed – an experience that hadn’t gone well the past couple of nights, as it had been interrupted by midnight accusation of blanket theft. If it had just been Grace and me in the room, if Mom, Dad, and Jackson hadn’t been around to overhear it, I might have worked up the courage to ask my older sister about her bedwetting. I wasn’t even sure if she knew that I knew about it. But I had to know. Had she worn the same pull-ups as Alex and Timothy? Was there perhaps a style that came in colors and designs for girls? But we weren’t alone, and those questions went unasked. The drive home wasn’t any easier. I didn’t touch my tablet, which had been my constant companion on the trip here. Instead, I stared out the window. But I wasn’t paying any attention to the passing cities and landscapes. Instead, my mind was replaying the events of the previous day, in particular, the few precious minutes when I had my hands on the pull-up. I was filled with a deep sense of longing and regret. Why had I thrown the pull-up in the trash? Why hadn’t I put it back on beneath my skirt? I would have had it with me now. I could have been wearing it now. Of course, I did know better. I would have had no issue wearing the pull-up out of the house, but once we had gotten to the hotel, there wouldn’t have been any realistic way for me to have kept it concealed. But the acknowledgment of that reality did nothing to lessen my longing for the pull-up. I had nothing but time as I began to scheme up all the different ways I could get my hands on another one, or better yet, an actual diaper. What would I have done if I had known the wait was to be measured in years rather than days, weeks, or months? --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

Hello All! It's been a while since I've posted a new story, but I'm back with a project I'm very excited about! "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" is the story of Rei Akiyama, a young girl trying to navigate through life in a near future dystopia where the age of majority has been raised to 28 for girls and regressive behavioral therapy has become popular to help girls adjust to these new laws. The world this story is set in is very strongly inspired by/based on the world building of Alteredstates, so a lot of credit goes to him! For those unfamiliar with Alteredstates, he does world building through ad copy and other cultural artifacts. While you don't need to be familiar with his work to understand and appreciate this story, I strongly recommend you check it out! Not only because it will help you immerse yourself in this world, but also because it's genuinely really good! You can find him on Tumblr, Twitter, and Patreon! Without further ado, I give you the prologue and first two chapters of "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" Prologue The night of Wednesday, October 4th, 2028, was unseasonably cold in the city of Greenham; snow was in the forecast for the next day in a city that rarely saw a snowflake until at least January. By 7:28PM, there were already flurries dancing through the cold wind that whipped through the dumpsters behind City Hall, where John Bennet, the head of City Hall security, stood with his foot propping open the emergency exit of the east stairwell. He blew out a lungful of smoke as he dropped his cigarette on the pavement below and crushed it beneath his shoe. John was nothing if not a creature of habit; so much so that, if one cared to be so observant, they could predict exactly what time John would take the last smoke break of his shift before he did his final sweep of the building. He would then go home to his shabby apartment. That night, however, was different. That night, John wouldn’t be going home; he would be meeting a 28-year-old girl he had met on the internet. That night, John’s phone rang just as he was about to go back inside. He fished his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he saw his date’s name on the caller ID, and swiped his finger across the screen as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, trying to sound smooth, “I can’t wait to see you.” On the other end of the phone, a young-sounding voice poured honeyed words into his ear as he turned and walked back into the building. Another night, under less distracting circumstances, John would have almost certainly noticed that the door never clicked closed behind him, but the telling silence was lost amongst the words that sent his blood pumping. In a bar a few miles away, Edward Cook was ordering a drink for a girl who looked too young to be there. The girl blushed as she slid her ID and emancipation card across the counter at the bartender’s request, brushing her blue hair behind her ear to look coyly at Edward out of the corner of her eye as she did. Edward never even noticed the girl on the other side of him, or her hand as she slipped a hard plastic card at the end of a black lanyard out of his suit jacket pocket. The card, printed with Edward’s picture and the seal of the Office of Juvenile Affairs, disappeared into the girl’s clutch purse as she quietly slipped away from the bar. She checked the time on her phone as she stepped out into the frosty night: 7:34PM. Elsewhere, the number 9 county bus was pulling over for an unscheduled stop due to a disturbance on the bus involving three young girls. The driver, Richard Lawson, broke up the altercation with the help of another passenger and removed the girls from the bus. That taken care of, an exasperated Richard reported the incident to dispatch, who noted the number 9 bus was running ten minutes behind but was resuming his route at 7:47PM. Back at the courthouse, John, having finished his final sweep of the building and found nothing out of the ordinary, put the finishing touches on his security logs for the night and leaned back in his chair, eyes sweeping over the bank of CCTV monitors that showed snapshots of the interior of the courthouse. It was, however, the clock that John was truly focused on, his eyes constantly flicking between it and the monitors. The moment those numbers turned from 7:59 to 8:00PM, John pushed himself out of his chair and jabbed his finger at the button that caused all of the monitors to wink out simultaneously. Had he waited just a minute longer, he might have seen the black garbed figures slip in from the emergency exit in the east stairwell. He could have watched as they crept up that staircase and slipped into second floor hallway. Another camera would have shown the figures slink down the hallway, past the Permits Office and the Office of Parks and Recreation. On a third camera, the figures stopped in front of a frosted glass door with Office of Juvenile Affairs printed across it in thick, black block letters. One of the figures swiped a card by the panel next to the door, the light turned from red to green, and the figures quickly disappeared through the door. Later, security logs would be pulled showing Edward Cook had accessed the office at 8:04PM; the subsequent investigation would find Cook was not guilty of any direct involvement but would still lose his position on the grounds of gross negligence. By 8:15PM, Greenham City Hall was silent and empty. At 8:17PM, the number 9 county bus blew past the empty bus stop at the far end of the City Hall parking lot. On an ordinary night, Richard would typically idle at this station for a few minutes, but he was working hard to make up for lost time. The next few stops were just as empty, which wasn’t unusual for this time of night on a weekday. It was 8:34PM when the bus pulled up to the stop at Greenham Community College, where three girls and four boys boarded the bus, all of them in their late teens and early twenties. Richard Lawson wouldn’t even think to mention this to investigators later, though they likely would have made nothing of it if he had. By 8:50PM, the city of Greenham, a suburb of the nation’s capital city, was settling into its slumber. A few bars and restaurants were still pouring drinks for late night clientele, but curfew was quickly approaching and all those affected were either already home or else rushing to get there. At 8:54PM, the electric engine of the number 9 county bus was humming along through the streets of one such sleepy neighborhood, empty but for Ricard Lawson and a small handful of passengers: a young girl with black hair and tawny skin carrying a bookbag tight to her chest, two boys with their feet on the seats laughing raucously in the back of the bus, and a mother and a daughter riding together. Richard glanced up at the passengers in his rearview mirror and caught the eye of the daughter. She had bright blue eyes, a practical waterfall of golden curls, and looked to be in her early twenties. Richard smiled at the girl in the mirror; he had to admit, she was adorable in her pink shirt and plaid skirtall. She smiled back at him from behind the shield of her pacifier. The mother turned away from the book in her hand and leaned over the girl, slipping one hand up the girl’s skirtall. Richard quickly averted his gaze, suddenly feeling like he was invading their privacy. “Oh, Rebecca,” the older woman sighed quietly, but still loud enough to be heard easily on the otherwise silent bus, “your pull-up is soaked; did you even know you had to go?” The girl’s smile disappeared into her blush as she mumbled some words from behind her pacifier. The mother chuckled. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she ruffled her daughter’s hair, “we’re almost home! Then we can get you changed into your nighttime diapers and feed you a nice bottle before bed, would you like that?” She booped her daughter’s nose and sent the girl into a fit of laughter. The black-haired girl shifted in her seat across from the mother and daughter, obviously trying to avoid looking at them. She glanced at her phone, 9:52PM. Richard Lawson shifted in his seat and tried to ignore the cooing and giggling going on behind him. Little single-family homes passed by as he made his way down Ridgemont Street, and only more in sight as he turned right down Wrighton Square. The bell dinged and Richard slowly pressed the brake, bringing the bus to a stop at the corner or Wrighton and Central Lake Drive. Richard wished his passengers a good night, stay safe, as they all got off. Glancing back in his rearview mirror to confirm the bus was empty, Richard slowly accelerated into the night. Peter Grant watched the bus pull away from the front seat of his Greenham Police Department Cruiser. He scanned the passengers leaving the bus stop. Two young men cross the street and kept walking up Wrighton Square while three women started walking up Central Lake Drive and toward his cruiser. He checked his clock: 9:56, damn near too late for young women to be out alone. “Let’s check it out,” he said to his partner, Dave Clusky, as he stepped out of the cruiser and started crossing the street towards the trio. As Peter approached, the women were backlit by a streetlamp, but he could make out the vaguely feminine shapes of three women. Two of them walked side by side as the third, at least a few inches shorter than the other two, walked a couple of feet behind. Peter raised his flashlight, “Excuse me, ladies,” he called out officiously as the beam of light cut through the night, bringing the slowly drifting flakes of snow into heavy contrast. The three ladies stopped in their tracks. The shorter of the two in front whimpered behind her pacifier and clung to the older woman next to her as they both blinked against the light. The girl behind them gasped inaudibly and stared ahead like a deer in headlights for a moment before raising a hand to protect her eyes from the worst of the light. “Evening, ma’am,” Peter nodded to the older woman, “these your children?” The woman glanced behind her, then back to Peter, “just this one,” she replied, squeezing Rebecca close to her. Peter nodded, “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. Best get your little one inside, it looks to be about her bedtime.” The mother laughed politely, “yes, we’ve had a very long day, thank you, officer.” She tugged on Rebecca’s hand and quietly urged the girl on. Peter swept his flashlight over a few degrees to focus his beam on the girl in the white button up shirt and plaid suspender skirt. “Could you lower your hand, miss? How old are you?” “Uhm, nineteen,” she replied nervously, “I know it’s—” “It’s almost curfew,” Peter interrupted her, “you allowed to be out past curfew?” “Um, no, sir, I—” “Yeah, didn’t think so. What’s your name? What are you doing out so late?” “Um, Rei, sir, and I’m coming home from college, sir, I was—” “College?” Dave chimed in, “you got parental permission for that?” “Yes, sir, and I—” “What were you doing at college this late?” Peter asked. “You go to Greenham CC?” “Yes, sir, I was studying—” “Studying,” Dave scoffed, “yeah, right.” “I was, sir, I have—” “You got a pass from your professor?” Peter asked. “Yes, sir, it’s—” “Well?” Dave said impatiently. “Let’s see it,” Peter demanded. “Yes, sir,” the girl reached into her backpack and produced a folded sheet of paper that was immediately snatched out of her hand. “Professor Lewis? English?” Peter read key words off the piece of paper before handing it off to Dave. Dave looked the sheet over, made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, then handed it back to Peter. “Looks legit” “You know it’s almost curfew, kid?” Peter turned back towards the girl, thrusting the paper back at her. “Yes, sorry, I was—” “Yeah, you were at college, you said. You live close by?” “Yes, sir, I—” “Where at?” “Just up the street,” she raised her hand and pointed behind Peter. “Uh huh,” Peter sounded skeptical. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 9:59PM. “Think you can get home before curfew hits, little girl?” He smiled maliciously. The girl’s knees went weak; she clutched her bag to her chest as if it could protect from him the malice in his smile. Her vision tunneled in on the face of Peter Grant and the world around her sounded like it was moving through water. Tick. 10:00PM. As curfew went into effect all over Greenham and it’s surrounding townships, the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall exploded outward, raining fire and rubble into it’s expansive parking lot. The sound of the explosion tore through the still night air, audible as a low rumbling miles away on Central Lake Drive. A portion of the horizon of the night sky lit up. “The fuck…?” Peter cursed. “Fuck me!” Dave swore. The girl let out a quiet yelp and resisted the urge to make a break for it. Silence filled the air in the aftermath of the explosion, and then the radios on Dave and Peter’s shoulders started squawking. They completely forgot about the girl as they scrambled back to their cruiser. Chapter One Snowflakes were melting in Rei Akiyama’s hair as she slumped against the front door of her house. She was still shaking and trying to steady her breath. “You’re late,” a voice said from the living room. “I know, I’m sorry, Mom,” Rei said, still panting slightly as she took her shoes off before entering the room. “The bus was running late; I ran all the way here from the bus stop.” Ms. Akiyama made a sound in her throat as she looked her daughter up and down. “You were studying? Let me see your pass.” “Yes, Mom,” Rei said as she pulled out the now slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her bag and handed it over. “You’re working too hard in school,” Ms. Akiyama said matter-of-factly. “Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re home,” she discarded the paper on the end table, “I was starting to get worried when I heard that rumbling. Did you hear that?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei nodded and chewed on her lip, unsure what else to say on the topic. “Rei, stop chewing your lip, it’s a bad nervous habit.” “Yes, Mom, sorry.” Rei forced herself to stop and instead just looked down at her shoes. “Well?” Ms. Akiyama asked expectantly a moment later. “It’s almost bedtime; shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? The news said we were supposed to get a few inches of snow, so school will probably be cancelled tomorrow, but I want you in bed on time just in case, okay?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei replied. She tried her best not to turn and run up the stairs, but instead walked casually up them as if it had just been a normal night of studying. Her mother watched her go, sensing something was off about her daughter, but she was unable to put her finger on what, exactly, she was sensing. Rei stopped briefly at the top of the stairs, turned back, and gave a small smile and wave when she saw her mother was still watching, then disappeared around the corner. Ms. Akiyama sighed quietly: what was she going to do with that girl? She was worried what kind of ideas her school was filling her head with, and Rei being out all-night studying didn’t do anything to allay that worry. Picking up the pass Rei had given her, Ms. Akiyama turned and settled back down on the couch. According to the pass, Rei had been working on her midterm essay for English with Professor Lewis. Sighing once more, she set the note aside, making a mental note to ask Rei what she was writing her essay about (maybe that would give her a clue on exactly what kind of idea’s the school was filling Rei’s head with), and turned her attention back to the TV where a mature looking woman was smiling back at her while holding a colorful package. “That why I decided to try new Pampers Overnight Diapers! They are expertly designed for girls who wet the bed,” as the woman delivered the line, she reached her free hand out the side and pulled a young girl of about eight or ten into the frame and into a side hug, “and those who don’t,” the camera pulled out and panned over to reveal an older girl about Rei’s age staring distractedly at her phone seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, “yet,” the mother added after a beat and punctuated it with a wink. Upstairs, Rei leaned against the wall, just out of sight, focusing on getting her breathing back to normal. The night hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but, so far, nothing had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope it stayed that way. Rei pushed herself away from the wall and made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom, closing her door behind her just as downstairs the TV alerted her mother to breaking news. As Ms. Akiyama was stunned to hear of the bombing just a few miles from her, Rei was tossing her backpack on the floor next to her desk and throwing herself face down on her bed. She was slightly dazed and more than exhausted. Part of her couldn’t believe the events of the night. Yes, they had been making plans for weeks now, she had known this night was coming, but now that it was done…it felt surreal. She was terrified of what would come next. Still, there was one more thing she had to do before this night was over. Rei crept back to her bedroom door, listened carefully, then cracked the door ever so slightly. The distant sounds of the TV still drifted up the stairs and the hallway was empty. Closing the door silently, she rushed across the carpet in socked feet to her desk, which, looking back over her shoulder towards the door, she inched away from the wall. Kneeling down, Rei reached behind the desk and pried off a piece of the baseboard to reveal a small crevice between the wall and the floor from which Rei produced a cell phone at least a decade old. It was black with a silver lined screen and a numeric keyboard. Rei brought up the messaging app only to be greeted with over a dozen texts; each was from a different number, but they all said the same thing: “home safe.” She sighed with relief, painstakingly typed out her own missive (“home safe”) on the numeric keyboard and pressed send before immediately replacing the phone in its hiding place and putting everything back in order. Now, Rei thought, it was time to get ready for bed. Chapter Two “It was confirmed early this morning that there were no casualties or injuries in last night’s explosion at the Greenham City Hall, which occurred at exactly 10PM and destroyed most of the building’s eastern half. While authorities have yet to make any statements regarding the cause of the explosion, many are already speculating that this was an act of domestic terrorism committed by the radical leftist feminist group Rebel in response to recent social policy legislation restricting the rights of women under twenty-eight. Supporters of this theory have been quick to point out that the offices of the newly established Office of Juvenile Affairs, which was formed to enforce these new policies, was located in the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall. We’ll be sure to bring you all the breaking details on this story as it develops. Back to you in the studio, Steve.” As the news switched back to less interesting stories, Ms. Akiyama turned her attention away from the tablet propped up on the kitchen counter and back to the cast iron skillet in front of her where the pancakes were beginning to form bubbles along the edge of the batter. She flipped them with the kind of perfection that only came with years of practice and shook her head, it was just terrible what had happened. She knew some people thought the new laws were going too far, but surely bombing buildings was going just as far, if not further. No, it wasn’t the proper way to go about voicing dissent at all. And if this was the kind of stuff feminism was preaching these days, maybe there was some sense to these new laws. Certainly they didn’t teach girls to behave that way when she was younger. Ms. Akiyama just prayed Rei’s head wasn’t being filled with this kind of stuff at that college she had begged so hard to go to. Maybe it wasn’t too late to put her in a vocational school; with a little discipline, Rei could make an excellent secretary. Or maybe she could get Rei a job working at a daycare; Rei always liked children, and maybe tapping into Rei’s maternal instincts was just what was needed to make sure she stayed on the right path. Or, there was always… No, no, Ms. Akiyama shoved that thought away. Rei was a good kid; a bit headstrong, but a good kid, surely that option was too drastic. Ms. Akiyama sighed as she stacked the pancakes on the steadily growing pile; she just wanted Rei to be safe and have a nice, happy life. She didn’t want her daughter falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in trouble. It wasn’t easy raising a daughter in such complicated times. Ms. Akiyama was still musing on such matters when Rei shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, almost instinctively following the smell of pancakes. “Pancakes?” Rei asked hopefully. “Does that mean school is canceled?” Mom typically never made pancakes on weekdays. “It sure does,” Ms. Akiyama replied cheerfully, trying to hide the somber mood the news had put her in. “Have you looked outside? We got quite a lot of snow!” Rei grinned and rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room and its bay window overlooking their front yard and the street beyond. Everything was white and brilliantly bright in the morning sun, covered in what must have been at least five or six inches of snow. Even the road was covered; it seemed like the snowplows hadn’t made it to their neighborhood yet. Rei couldn’t help but stare out the window in wonderment; she had always loved the snow. There was just something magical about it. Behind her, Ms. Akiyama leaned against the door frame and grinned. When it came to snow, kids were always kids. “Come on,” Ms. Akiyama said after giving Rei a few moments to take in the wintery spread, “the pancakes are getting cold.” She turned and headed back in to the kitchen without checking to make sure Rei was following her. The news was once again talking about last night’s incident, so Ms. Akiyama quickly turned it off as she grabbed the plate of pancakes; she didn’t want to upset Rei with such terrible news first thing in the morning. “So,” Ms. Akiyama said as she set the plate of pancakes on the table and Rei settled into her seat, “you were working on an essay with your professor last night?” She grabbed the syrup from the fridge before settling into her own seat. “Um, yeah,” Rei responded simply as she loaded her plate with pancakes, “my midterm essay,” she added after a moment. “Oh, that’s nice,” Ms. Akiyama passed the syrup across the table and took a couple pancakes off the stack for herself. “What’s it about?” “Um,” Rei was drenching her pancakes in syrup, “well, it’s…well, our professor gave us some articles to choose from and we just have to like respond to one of them.” “Interesting, what kind of articles?” “Just, you know, current events stuff.” “Uh-huh, and what article did you choose?” Sure, Ms. Akiyama was testing the waters, trying to see what kind of stuff Rei was learning at school, but, to her credit, she was genuinely interested in her daughter’s life. Rei, on the other hand, was getting nervous. Her mother didn’t usually ask her this many questions about her schoolwork. Rei liked that her mother didn’t ask her about her schoolwork. Rei thought the less her mother asked about her schoolwork, the better. Why was her mother suddenly interested? She thought about lying, but if her mother asked to see the essay, she’d be caught immediately. “Well, just about…about the passing of The Hayes Act…” “Oh, I see.” Rei shoveled a too large bite of pancakes into her mouth to avoid having to respond. Oh, I see? What did that mean? Rei tried to smile around the bite of pancakes, but her eyes were searching her mother’s face for anything that might hint to her true reaction. Ms. Akiyama worked to keep her face as passive as possible, raising her cup and taking a long, slow sip of coffee to help her efforts. She had barely discussed the act with her daughter since its passage six months ago. She hadn’t needed to much, and it had always felt like such a…touchy subject. “Why did you choose that article?” Ms. Akiyama asked, trying hard to sound casual but interested and definitely non-confrontational. Just a mom interested in her daughter’s schoolwork. Rei speared a hunk of pancake with her fork and cut it away from the rest with her knife, “Um, I just thought the article was interesting,” she spoke with her head down, giving her voice a muffled quality. “What was the article about?” Ms. Akiyama knew Rei had strong feelings about The Hayes Act, and she couldn’t blame her. Rei had turned nineteen a month before the law had passed; she had been an adult for thirteen months when she once again became a child in the eyes of the law for another nine years. Of course, Ms. Akiyama understood why her daughter felt so strongly about it; she respected Rei’s passion, but she wished Rei could accept that there was nothing that could be done. She wished Rei could just accept that the world wasn’t what her mother had promised it would be she told Rei she could grow up to be whatever she wanted. “Just,” Rei shrugged, “I guess the author was talking about how it shouldn’t have passed and stuff…” The two were in a minefield; they both knew it. Neither wanted this to end in an explosion, but one couldn’t leave, and the other couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Oh,” Ms. Akiyama said, “do you talk about that kind of stuff a lot in school?” The last time they had discussed The Hayes Act had been when it had come time for Rei to enroll in her second year at Greenham Community College. With Rei then legally a child, she needed Ms. Akiyama’s permission to continue attending college. Ms. Akiyama could have stopped her; she had certainly been tempted to do it. Rei shrugged, “What do you mean ‘that kind of stuff’?” “Stuff like The Hayes Act? Politics?” “I guess, sometimes.” “What kind of stuff do they teach you about it?” Rei shrugged, “I mean, they just like…explain how it came to be. Historically, you know?” “I see.” Ms. Akiyama could sense her daughter getting…defensive? Evasive? She was certainly becoming something. Maybe it was time to pump the brakes. “I just worry,” Ms. Akiyama said, genuinely thinking it would help defuse the situation. “Worried?!” Rei said a little too loudly, “there’s nothing to worry about, Mom!” “It’s just…I hear a lot these days about what kinds of things colleges are teaching and—” “Mo-om!” “—and I don’t want them filling your head with the wrong kinds of ideas, that’s all!” “Mom, they are not…brainwashing me, okay?” “I didn’t say brainwashing, okay? I just hear what kinds of things colleges teach these days, that’s all,” Ms. Akiyama repeated. Rei slumped in her chair. Her mom had managed to ruin pancakes. “I just want you to be happy,” Ms. Akiyama said after a long, awkward pause. She reached across the table to take her daughter’s hand. “College just makes things harder for most girls these days, and, besides, you study so much, it’s not good for you.” “But I like school, Mom. It makes me happy.” “Well, why don’t we sign you up for one of those extended high school for girls programs?” Ms. Akiyama smiled, genuinely thinking it would be a good suggestion. “Ugh, Mom,” Rei withdrew her hand and shot her mother a withering look, “those are just housewife classes.” “There’s nothing wrong with that, Rei!” “I’m not saying there is,” Rei protested, “it’s just not what I want to do.” “I know, you want to be a teacher, but I just don’t…well…you can’t be a teacher for another nine years, what if by then they don’t let women be teachers anymore?” A silence fell over the room as both mother and daughter felt the weight of that thought. It was a legitimate concern. “I don’t know, Mom,” Rei said at last, sounding crestfallen. “But what am I supposed to do?” Ms. Akiyama frowned. Like most mothers, deep down she just wanted her child to be happy. Part of her really wished her child could have her dream, but most of her knew it simply wasn’t meant to be and there was nothing that could change that. Most of her just wanted to help Rei find another way to be happy. Without a word, Ms. Akiyama rose from the table and cleared their plates. Breakfast was clearly over. On her way out of the kitchen, she lightly ruffled Rei’s hair, “Go on,” she said, “enjoy your snow day, okay? But just…think about the extended high school program?” Rei nodded.

I've decided to rewrite this completely. It's the usual scenario. : ) Apologies to anyone expecting more of the previous effort. : ) This story is about the slowly developing, major change in a couple's relationship. Rob and Sue's New Life - Chapter 1 Sue arrived home from her work as a business analyst. She rolled her eyes as she saw the front door wide open. As she walked in, she could hear the TV - another of Rob's cartoon shows. Sue put down her briefcase and walked into the living area. Rob was still in his pyjamas, sprawled on the floor close to the screen. He had a bowl of popcorn next to him and popcorn littered the floor around him, along with a half-eaten and badly made peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 'Rob!' said Sue. Rob didn't move. The TV was so loud he could not have heard his wife. Sue picked up the remote from the sofa and killed the sound. 'Rob!' she repeated. 'What?' said Rob, turning to her. 'I was watching that.' 'For heaven's sake, Rob,' said Sue. 'Get up.' Rob clambered to his feet. Sue grabbed him roughly by the arm and led him into the kitchen. She looked angrily at the open peanut butter jar, jelly jar and package of sliced bread on the bench, then at her husband's face. She picked up a dishcloth and wetting it under the tap, took Rob's head in one hand and wiped the swathe of jelly from around his mouth. 'Not only do you make a mess in the kitchen and all over the floor in the living room, but you can't even keep your face clean when you eat,' she said with exasperation. 'You're supposed to be recuperating, not behaving like a messy child. And I think you should find something more useful to do than watch cartoons. Have you done the washing and remade the bed?' she asked Rob, who was rubbing his cheek where Sue had scrubbed off the jelly. 'I was going to,' said Rob weakly. 'Of course you were going to,' said Sue. 'I've been at work all day, and all you had to do was put the sheets you wet into the washing machine, and you couldn't even manage that. It's bad enough you wetting the bed like a toddler. The least you could do is to be grown up enough to do a simple task like start the washing machine. But no, you prefer to make a mess in the kitchen and watch cartoons. You know, it's too bad there isn't a daycare that I could enrol you in. At least I could go to work knowing that you won't be making a mess here.' Rob stood in front of Sue, looking miserable. Sue knew what came next. Rob's psychological condition was as fragile as his physical state. The weeks in hospital after the accident had reduced his physical strength, and the emotional effects had been just as severe. Rob looked at his wife, unable to control the mix of feelings swirling in his head. 'I'm sorry,' he said as the tears began. Sue took him in her arms. Rob wrapped his arms around her. He could feel the fabric of her business suit, and the swell of her full breasts, restrained by the bra he felt under his fingers. He pictured her grown up panties, pantyhose and he had to say, adult clothing, then thought of his pyjamas. He felt very childish by comparison with his well-dressed wife and her important job. At least he didn't have his diaper on. Just holding Sue made him feel better, and his tears began to subside. Sue was angry, but she felt genuinely sorry for Rob. There had to be a better way forward than this, she thought. It was as if they were stuck in a rut. She wondered if Jane the therapist had any answers. 'I'm sorry too, Rob,' said Sue, 'But you have to be more responsible if I'm going to leave you at home like this.' Se held Rob away from her and looked at him. With her heels, Sue was a little taller than Rob, and she too was aware of the difference in their clothing. Sue had just come from a high powered conference at which she was the only woman, other than a minute secretary, and here she was dealing not with large investments but with her tearful husband whose diaper tended to leak at night and who couldn't even manage to wash some soiled bedclothes when he was told to. 'Oh, Rob,' said Sue, looking down at the loose crotch of Rob's pyjamas. the cotton flannel wasn't wet, but it was clearly damp. Sue grasped the damp cloth, pushing aside the soft genitals she felt beneath. 'When did that happen?' she asked. 'Don't know,' said Rob quietly. Sue was sure he didn't. He'd wet a couple of times during the day over the last few weeks. Once in the car on the freeway, and anther time when he'd fallen asleep watching his cartoons. Sue supposed that was the case this time. Rob had been diapered for over a month in hospital when he was semi-comatose. Continuing night time problems after coming home were common, and Rob's medical team had advised Sue about handling the issue as it reduced over time. Naturally, Rob had been upset when he realised that he was being diapered and changed by the nurses, and had found it hard to come to terms with Sue continuing the regime when he arrived home. Sue, on the other hand, found a weird satisfaction in diapering Rob. They were childless, and Sue, who had always volunteered to be 'Mommy' in dress up games as a child, enjoyed her nightly guilty pleasure as she diapered her husband. Even when Rob had managed two dry nights in a row, Sue cheated a little on her instructions from the nurses. She was supposed to 'reward' Rob by a diaper free night, relying on the plastic sheet for any mishaps. She ignored that, instead comforting her bedwetting husband and assuring him that the problem would go away eventuaoly and until then she would take care of him. Sue had even felt a little excited when Rob had wet in the car, and for their next long car trip suggested that Rob wear a diaper. She was disappointed when Rob refused outright. Now, as she helped her still upset husband undress in the bathroom, she wondered if three daytime wettings in as many weeks justified her insisting Rob wear a diaper when there was a chance he'd doze off, or for those long car trips. Sue watched Rob in the shower. He'd been clean shaven by the nurses, and Sue had kept up the practice. She'd decided to use a depilatory as well, and was pleased to see that the regrowth of Rob's pubic hair was now very light and sparse. She felt the familiar twinge of excitement in her own pubic area as she thought about it. She let her thoughts drift. As a result of the accident, Rob was now impotent. The doctors said there could be some change, but it was uncertain. Strangely, Sue didn't mind. Their sex life had never been very dynamic, and since coming home, Rob, a natural cuddler, had been more affectionate than ever. Neither he nor Sue had said anything about it, but he seemed more focused on Sue's breasts now. He'd even suckled her a few times, and Sue hadn't objected. She'd thought happily of her role of 'mummy' in the dress up games of long ago. Rob emerged from the shower. Back in the bedroom, Sue suggested that he put on his night time diaper. 'Now?' said Rob. 'It's only 5.30!' Again, Sue felt the little thrill deep in her belly, and as Rob turned away from her she pushed her vulva against the corner of the dressing table, and briefly closed her eyes. 'Yes, Rob,' said Sue. 'I've got a lot of work to do tonight, and if you're going to sit around and watch TV, I don't want to take any chances.' 'I won't need them,' objected Rob. 'I'll be awake. Today was just, I dunno, I must have fallen asleep.' ''You might fall asleep again,' said Sue. 'I won't' said Rob. 'And what if someone comes over?' 'They won't,' said Sue, making her way to the diaper drawer in the chest and opening it. 'On the bed please, Rob.' Both Sue and Rob knew how this would end. Both partners had slowly become aware of a subtle change in their relationship since Rob's return from hospital. Not only was Sue now the breadwinner, but she tended increasingly to make decisions for both of them. Sue stood by the bed in her business clothes, holding a thick white diaper, while Rob was naked in front of her. His small pink penis lay curled over his modest testicles, now held up tight against his smooth groin by his hairless scrotum. Rob didn't feel any modesty at all now, especially in front of Sue. The weeks in hospital after he had fully awoken, with nurses regularly bed-bathing and diapering him, had removed any sense of embarrassment about displaying his genitals. They were just like any other part of his body now. Rob had accepted that Sue now wrapped herself in a towel in his presence when she was naked, although it made him feel as if she were an adult and he was a child. He didn't like to think about it. 'Here please Rob,' said Sue, laying the diaper out on the bed. Rob gave in, and manoeuvred himself onto the spread diaper. They'd been through the issue of Rob diapering himself. The nurses did it at the hospital, and now at home, after a couple of attempts by Rob, Sue had told him that it was better for her to do it in order to ensure that the garment fitted properly. 'It's too early,' grumbled Rob as Sue finished fixing the tapes. 'Rob, please, no more of that,' said Sue. 'Stand up.' Rob stood quietly while Sue pulled his plastic pants up around his waist. He caught sight of his reflection in the big mirror on the wardrobe door. Apart from their sizes, Sue and he looked like a mother and child. Sue with her full figure, smartly dressed in adult clothing, and Rob, slight and naked except for a bulky white diaper and plastic pants. He felt like crying. Sue left him standing while she found a large t shirt. Rob put his arms up and Sue pulled the shirt over them. 'There you are,' she announced, giving Rob a pat on his padded backside. Rob looked down at his diaper. 'What about pants?' he asked. 'You're just at home,' said Sue.'You don't need pants.' Rob swallowed hard. It was bad enough feeling like a child without looking like one. 'I want them,' he said. Sue laughed. 'Ooh, 'I want pants!'',' she said in a jocular manly voice. 'Track pants,' said Rob. Sue thought for a moment. 'Honey, your track pants are in the wash, which you didn't do today. Your jeans will be too tight over your diaper, so you can wear a pair of my stretchy shorts,' she said. Retrieving a pair from the chest of drawers while Rob stood, unhappily thinking that the phrase 'your diaper' applied to him. Sue helped Rob into the shorts. Rob looked again at the mirror. He wished now that he had put the washing machine on. The long t shirt hid most of Sue's pastel yellow shorts, but they still bulged beneath the shirt. Rob was very obviously diapered, and the white padding of his diaper was clearly visible below the hem of the shorts around his thighs. He reached down and tried to pull the fabric over the diaper, but it wouldn't stay there. 'You look fine, baby,' said Sue brightly, watching Rob's concerned face. 'Cute, even.' Rob felt the emotions mixing in his head again. He didn't want to look cute. 'Come on sweetie,' said Sue, taking his hand and leading him into the living area. 'I'm an adult. I'm an adult,' Rob found himself thinking as he followed Sue, conscious of the thick padding splaying his legs slightly as he walked. He felt strangely adrift, and couldn't help gripping Sue's warm hand. To be continued.