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Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SP7Q3WD Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1071417185 _______________________________________ Chapter 1 “So why are you here?” She smiled when she said it; you could tell it was routine, the first question she always asked, and the smile was just good service. Staring across the desk, slumped in his chair, not sure where to put his hands or how to answer and preserve some pride, Eric didn’t respond right away. “I guess … I just don’t want to be here anymore,” Eric replied while keeping his eyes on the desk. Cheryl was used to this. Not many people who came to an adoption center wanted to talk about it. Except the exhibitionists; they wouldn’t stop talking about it, but it was obvious from his body language and mumbling tone that Eric wasn’t here for any of those reasons. “I understand, honey,” Cheryl said, softening her voice, “a lot of people feel that way. Can I ask you some questions about how you feel?” Eric knew what coming; he’d asked the same questions himself more times than he cared to remembered. He nodded. “Do you feel like hurting yourself?” “No.” Flat, matter of fact, and truthful. “Have you ever felt like hurting yourself?” “No.” “Do you feel like hurting someone else?” “No.” Have you ever felt like hurting someone else?” “No.” Cheryl ticked off boxes on her iPad while Eric waited patiently. “I’m so glad to hear that. Can I ask a few more?” She didn’t pause for him to answer. “Have you ever been diagnosed with any of the following? Bipolar disorder, Schizophrenia, Depression, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Personality Disorder, Dissociative disorder?” “Just depression and anxiety,” Eric said as he pushed back in his chair and exhaled. He’d been with depression for eight years and had this conversation with every new doctor and therapist he’d been to in that time. It was boring. Before Cheryl could get her next word out, Eric answered her next question. “I’m taking 150mg of Bupropion once a day and Xanax as needed. I’ve was seeing a therapist every other week until about 6 months ago. Her names is in the paperwork I brought with me. I’d say my depression and anxiety are both well controlled.” “Good,” she said, “That’s all good. Do you mind if I call your therapist to talk with her?” “No, that’s fine.” “Good. I need to be sure your decision isn’t being influenced by your depression or anxiety. So, back to what you were saying earlier, you ‘don’t want to be here anymore.’ Can you tell me more about that?” Cheryl leaned forward, trying to help Eric engage. “I’m work for the county…I’m a social worker…” Cheryl was practiced at this. Nod, say nothing, the client will fill the silence when they’re ready. “I … I …” Eric sucked in air and held back a sob. “I just can’t stay here anymore. I can’t … keep doing this.” Cheryl pushed her box of tissues toward Eric, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a cotton handkerchief. Dabbing at his eyes, he said started again. “Kenard Bering was my client. You probably didn’t hear about that. Good kid, not a trouble maker; wasn’t going to be any project to Harvard story, but he was on track, ya know. And he gets shot over a fucking cellphone.” Tears dripped, and Eric occasional wiped them away as he fell into a soliloquy: “Second kid in a year killed ……………. Dies at school from a fucking asthma attack. When’s the last time you heard of anyone dying from a fucking asthma attack ……………. And this asshole cop says to this 14 year old, ‘well, what are you doing to make your mother hit you? I couldn’t believe it, I … who the fuck says that or even thinks that way? How do you send a kid home who doesn’t want to go home? ……………. Burned ……………. Dropped out ……………. Caught with a weapon his mother game him. And that was after she beat him for losing a fight ……………. But so what if he graduates, right? ‘Cause it’s not like there’s anything but a mop or an apron waiting for him out there ……………. Left her kid to sit in his own shit while she went to get high and doesn’t even tell the cop the kid is home alone ……………. Jail ……………. 12 years old and pregnant and bipolar and both parents on drugs – what can I even do for that? ……………. He had priors ……………. I lost him to the pipeline ……………. Caught out on a corner ……………. Neighborhood says the cops did it ……………. ……………. ……………. ……………. …………….” Eric had stopped crying. He wasn’t sad. He was angry and disgusted and indignant. “For every one I save, whatever that means, there’s five I don’t. It’s like watching a never ending catastrophe and it rips my guts out every time.” Tired now, he slumped back in his chair, “Everyone said give it a year, you’ll get hardened to it. And I never did. Eight years, never gets better, never gets worse. It just is. And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t see it anymore.” Cheryl nodded her, “Uh huh…” waiting to see if Eric had more to say. When she thought he was done, she asked, “That sounds very hard for you. Can you tell me, though, why go to the other dimension? That’s pretty drastic; couldn’t you just change jobs?” “No,” Eric answered, “Because I know it’s all out there. I can’t live with myself if I quit. Or at least I can’t do it here.” That made sense to her. A sad kind of sense. Eric sounded like the kind of person there are too few of, but those qualities that made him so valuable to everyone else were the same qualities that made him so unhappy. Classic burnout. It wasn’t the first time Cheryl had seen this in a client, but it was obviously the worst, and she understood how Eric could believe there would never be an end to it if he stayed. He might even be right, she thought. “Eric, I’m going to be very frank with you. The dimension is more like our world than a lot of people want to admit. In some ways, it’s much, much worse, the way they treat people like us. It’s different in different countries, but in some of them we’re not seen as people. If you’ve heard anyone compare it to slavery and torture, they weren’t wrong. How does that make you feel?” Eric wasn’t surprised. He’d heard it all. It was right there in the web forums: kidnapping, mutilation, mind alteration. Even “Island of Dr. Moreau.” “I know,” Eric replied. “That’s why I came here and not some other place.” “Because you know we only work with people who live in Itali?” “Yeah.” “Well, that was smart of you. Some people get impatient and will go anywhere, or just go somewhere in the dimension and take their chances. You seem like someone who does his research, but I just want to tell you some things to separate fact from fiction: · Itali only permits adoptions through license agencies like ours, and they only adopt direct from our dimension to Itali. Not from any of the other countries there. · While humans can live there independently with the same rights at Bigs, if you adopt yourself out, you’ll have the same rights as a minor there. Anything that is permissible for a Big to do to their own children can be done to you. Anything that is impermissible for a Big to do to their own children cannot be done to you. · You can select the stage of life you wish to begin with as a Little: newborn, infant or toddler. Those are the only choices. That is binding on the Bigs who adopt from us. However, they retain the right to decide the details associated with your stage of life, which may vary from your expectations. Whether and at what pace you progress through life stages, and what point, if any, you stop progressing, is up to the Big. If you choose or consent to it, your Big may further regress you from your current stage at any time. · You’ll notice we call them Bigs. They call us Littles. ‘Amazon’ is a pejorative there. · There’s no amending the adoption agreement. It says what it says. We can make your wishes known to prospective parents, but they can break any promise they make. But we don’t adopt out to just anyone. We thoroughly inspect all of our clients. We wouldn’t work with them if we believed they were bad people. · Our adoption agreement prohibits the following: o Involuntary physical or mental alteration o Giving, selling, or trading Littles o Having custody of any Little not adopted through an agency licensed in Itali o Violations of any Itali laws; suspicion of violations to be investigated, with a preponderance of evidence sufficient to be considered a violation of this agreement o Withholding or unduly delaying adequate medical care o Abuse, neglect, or negligence as defined by The Agency; suspicion of abuse, neglect, or negligence to be investigated, with a preponderance of evidence sufficient to be considered a violation of this agreement o Traveling with the Little to, or sending the Little to, any country where any of the above are not expressly forbidden by law · We have offices in Itali that conduct surprise inspections and work with the authorities there. If they find any violation of the adoption agreement, under the treaty permitting inter-dimensional adoptions between us and Itali, the police are required by law take you into their custody and return you to us. · Unless your parents violate the adoption agreement, you must remain with them as their Little for 10 years. You can asked to be returned to us, but they are not obligated to comply. Conversely, they can return you to us whenever they choose. At the end of those 10 years, you can decide to stay their Little, return to us, or remain in Itali as a full and independent citizen. · Your property and assets with be placed in a trust our non-profit partner manages. If choose to return to us or to become an independent citizen after 10 years, your property will be returned to you less the what we spend eliminating any remaining debt you have here. If you choose to stay a Little after 10 years, your assets, property, and any interest are liquidated, the revenue will be used to pay off your debt, and anything left over will be donated to fund the non-profit. I just want to remind you that Itali is like here; there are good people and bad people. We only work with good, but if you’re looking for a Utopia, that’s not Itali. Does all that make sense? Do you have any questions?” “No. Well, I guess yeah – what happens next,” Eric asked. Eric was familiar with provisions like these. It was part of his job, dealing with foster parents and adoptions. This aligned closely to the laws of he was used to dealing with. He made a lot of those inspections over the years himself. “I know that was a lot to take in,” Cheryl answered, “It’s all in the paperwork I’m going to send you home with. If you have any questions, please reach out to me, and we will be testing you to ensure you read and understood the adoption agreement before we approve you for adoption. So next I’m going to process all the information on those forms we asked you to bring in, then I’m going to call you doctors and last therapist. Our compliance department is going to run the background check you’re allowing us to do, and that includes all of your financial history so we know what we’re taking on when if you decide to move forward. Once that’s done, I’ll be in touch. It usually takes about 10 days for the average person. I’m guessing because of your job you’re going to appear in a lot of court records, so it may take longer. And in the meantime you just go about your life like normal. Don’t make any drastic decisions; don’t go on a spending spree; don’t do anything dangerous or stupid. Anything like that has the potential to cause us to reject your application. If you have any questions, you can call me or one of our licensed therapists – I really encourage everyone to do that anyway. And if at any time you change your mind and want to just forget this, we can do that, too; everything here is confidential, and all your records will be destroyed. Do you have any more questions right now?” With her monologue done, Eric thought for a moment. It was a lot to take in, and even though he was far from the end of it, everything seemed very real now. “Uh, not a question really. Can I tell you one thing I’m looking for in a Big,” Eric asked. “Of course.” Eric felt sheepish. He’d thought about this a lot, and he was embarrassed by it, as if this entire thing weren’t embarrassing. “I don’t know what life stage I want to start at, but, uh, can you, um, put it in my file that I don’t think I ever want to grow up again?” “I can’t promise your Big would abide by that, but I will put it in your file, and we’ll try do our best to find a Big who wants the same as you. Anything else?” “No,” Eric said as he stood up and stuck his hand out. “Thank you for your help. I’ll do all the things you said.” “Thank you for coming in today,” Cheryl replied as she shook Eric’s hand. As Eric reached the door, Cheryl felt compelled to add, “Eric, we’re going to make sure everything turns out right for you. I’ll make sure. And while all this is going on, please … just try to take care of yourself … for me.” Eric nodded and left. Cheryl liked Eric. She had a soft spot for people who had soft spots, and she knew people like Eric were worth protecting. We need more people like him in this world, Cheryl thought, but he needs something else. She understood why Eric wanted to be with a Big who didn’t want him to grow up: so he’d never have to see the kinds of things he saw everyday here. Returning to her desk, Erica started taking in on her notes for the file: Eric is 29 years old and suffers from depression and anxiety which are well controlled with medication … overwhelmed by work and the suffering he sees in the world … is educated and intelligent … is a sensitive and kind person … appears physically healthy … exhibits signs of PTSD, though he has not been diagnosed, and may benefit from therapy post-adoption … will likely need substantial emotional support ... did not admit to any fetish as a motivator .. may have trouble adapting ... desires to NOT progress from initial stage of life … will likely match best with a female head of household looking to dote on her Little and who has a large support network …

Hi guys! Here are the first two chapters for Araceli's Descent Into Babyhood. You can find chapter three and four already added to my website: The Padded Playground. There are new stories like Finding Mommy, Bully - A Mother's Forced Regression, and more. Be sure to check them out. Araceli's Descent Into Babyhood Lena looked around the room. It was a nursery, but everything was bigger than normal. A play pen in the middle filled with blankets and toys that could fit multiple adults in it. A crib on one corner, big enough for two adult women, and that crib wasn’t empty. Inside, a woman with olive skin and dark brown messy hair slept peacefully. She was naked but for a diaper, which was clearly wet. Araceli was sucking her thumb, probably dreaming about her past life. A life she had spent in the streets of Lima, begging for money to support herself and her children. Now, here she was, in America. In Lena’s home, sleeping like a baby, for a lack of a better word. Lena turned to see the camera pointed at the crib, recording Araceli’s every movement. And she couldn’t help but thinking about how she had made everything possible. How she turned the beggar mother into an ABDL superstar around the world. If the baby wasn’t sleeping she would’ve laughed diabolically. It was, after all, something only a villain would’ve done. Turn a mother from the streets into her perfect baby angel, submissive to her every command. Lena could’t deny it, she was proud of it. Chapter 1 Lena’s New Idea Lena looked at her phone and the endless notifications from her last post. It was a simple photo shoot of her wetting her diaper and then getting changed by a random fan she chose. It had gotten a lot of interactions; everyone wanted to have been that fan, and that kept her followers wanting more. But, if she was honest with herself, it wasn't the same anymore. She sighed, looking down the car window. The city was unlike anything she had seen before. A beautiful and endless green pier at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean and she wasn't even in the nice part of the city yet. Perhaps, in the future, she thought, she could leave it behind. The idea of having to wear diapers and wetting or messing them up to make money for the rest of her life didn't seem as enticing as when she started selling content. She was running out of ideas to keep her followers satisfied. True, it gave her enough money to live a comfortable life. Not something the average ABDL content creator could say, but then again, not everyone had her hourglass figure and piercing blue eyes combined with long blonde hair, making her look like a baby Viking goddess when she was on character. At almost twenty-five, Lena couldn't have asked for better genetics. Her thoughts came back to the present when the car stopped, and she went down. The warmth of Lima radiated against her porcelain skin as she strolled past the elegant facade of the five-star hotel. In the heart of Lima's touristic district, restaurants and malls and beautiful parks were everywhere. And yet, on the streets, beggars. The taxi driver had told her they were Venezuelans, escaping from the horrors of socialism in their own country. Though, he pointed out, it wasn't that much better in Peru. Lena didn't know what to say, so she just nodded and smiled. Politics weren’t her thing. If anything, she just wanted to pay as little taxes as possible and not be bothered by anyone. But, confronted with it now, she felt sad for them. Something she could’ve just shake off once she was inside the hotel and that would’ve been it. And then it happened. She saw her first. Amidst the crowd, a woman in her late thirties with a beautiful tan, olive skin, and the deepest black eyes. She was tall for a Latina but with the natural curves of her people. Big breasts and a soft face, almost too soft for someone living in the streets. At that moment, Lena got an idea that would change her life and the life of that beautiful older woman who was asking for money from any and every tourist. Could it actually be possible that the beggar was the answer to her question? "Welcome to the Lima J.W. Marriott," said the guard, bringing her back into reality and helping Lena with her luggage. Lena didn’t answer. She was deep in thought. She didn’t want to be rude. No. But there was an idea forming in her mind. She felt the diaper around her crotch getting warmer. And the feeling of her urine against her skin confirmed what she wanted. She wanted out, and this was her opportunity. "Miss?" the guard asked again. "Could you get them inside," asked Lena, "I'll be back in a second. Thanks.” She rushed off, almost running, though the thick diaper wouldn’t allow too much movement. She rushed towards the woman she had seen, and stopped only when she was close enough to see her better. Her eyes had not lie. If she were clean and better fed, the mature woman could’ve been a former model. One of those Venezuelan ones that used to win every Miss Universe competition. "Excuse me," Lena began tentatively, not wanting to offend or scare the struggling mature woman, “Excuse me.” "Disculpe?" asked the woman, “Tiene dinero?” Lena smiled, giving her a ten-dollar bill, "English?" The woman nodded, "Little." "What's your name?” "Araceli." Looking at her closely, Lena could spot the dirt and stains in Araceli's clothing. She had probably haven't showered in a while. Her hair was messy and chaotic. She had lines around her eyes and dry lips. And yet, there was potential there that remained undiscovered. Exotic and sexy and, because of the woman’s demeanor, cuteness. With the right makeover and a proper cleanup - yeah, that would work. It would be perfect, and Lena’s own excitement made her already wet diaper soaked with her own juices. She could imagine herself diapering the woman, treating her like a baby for all her followers to see. She would be the mommy, not the baby anymore. Of course, she wouldn’t give up diapers. They were more for comfort and convenience than anything else. But yes, Araceli was the ideal candidate for her little experiment. She smiled, devilishly and charmingly, "Would you like more money?" Araceli nodded vigorously, "Yes, please.” "What would you do for it?" "How much?" "A thousand. Cash, I guess you don't really have a bank account, do you?” Araceli shook her head, "What do I do?" "Do you know what a diaper is?” Araceli nodded, though her eyes were perplexed at the question, "Babies, changes.” "Yeah," said Lena, "I'll give you a thousand dollars if you let me put one on you and then let me take photos and record it. It will be classy. Just one night. In my hotel room. No one else will be there. Just you and me.” Araceli looked lost for a second before she answered, "Porn?" Lena nodded, "A type of. But nothing too sexual unless you want to. Look, it's a lot of money, not just for someone living on the streets, but in general. Think about it. If you choose to do it, come to my hotel room. I'm in the penthouse. Ask for Miss Stone." Without letting the mature woman answer, she turned around, smiling, and walked back to her hotel. She stopped by the front door, right beside the security guard who had greeted her a few minutes before. He still had her luggage and a welcoming smile. "If the woman I was talking with comes asking for me. Show her to my room," she said, hanging him a fifty-dollar bill, "There's more if you're discreet about it." The guard’s smile grew bigger, “Yes, ma’am. Welcome to Lima City." Lena entered the hotel, "I'm going to like it here." Chapter 2 Mother & Daughter Araceli looked at her daughter. She was eagerly eating the street burger she had bought for them. Ten dollars wasn't a big thing for them gringos, but for her, it was life-changing. Her daughter had not known the taste of nice food in a while, and knowing she could change that for good made Araceli consider the proposal of the crazy white lady who gave her the money. Porn? Porn? But with diapers. It just didn't sound good. She said not really porn. Nothing too sexual. Was there not going to be coitus? Was it just the diaper? Those crazy people from first-world countries were really into some weird stuff, weren't they? "Are you okay, mom?" asked Maria. She looked like a clone of her mother but in the body of a nineteen-year-old. Even malnutrition hadn't taken away her beauty, and it was her beauty they were counting on when they escaped Venezuela. But when they arrived, they realized no matter how pretty they were, there were hundreds upon hundreds of them. Most Peruvians hated them, too. There were no opportunities. Chileans hated them. Argentinians hated them. Brazilians hated them. They were banned from El Salvador. It seemed they could only go to America, but getting there was the problem. Easy to go in, difficult to get there. "Mom?" asked Maria again. Araceli looked at her daughter and smiled, "Eat, honey.” Maria did as told. Mothers, especially those from Latin countries, would do anything for their kids. And if she wanted to call herself a real mother, she needed to step up. She couldn't let her daughter starve. And they needed a home. Somewhere to live. A thousand dollars was enough to rent an apartment for three months or more if they were smart about it. Maybe buy some cheap clothes. Eat properly for a while. But the shame of what she needed to do prevented her from committing to that decision. "Mom. That's it. Tell me what's going on," said Maria once more. Her daughter had always been more bossy and dominant than herself. It had gotten her into trouble, especially in a culture that didn't allow that on women. But Maria was also smart, maybe not street smart, but smart nonetheless. Emotionally smart would be the right word. "It's nothing, honey," she said, "I just got...a proposal." "A proposal?” Araceli nodded, "Yeah, a money-type proposal." "A job?” Araceli hesitated to share more with her daughter, but they were close. Best friends. There were no secrets between them, and that alone was the only reason they had survived so far. Together, they were stronger. They complemented each other. And her hesitation faded as she explained what had happened earlier that day. "Diapers? Porn? You aren't thinking about doing this. Are you?" asked Maria. Araceli nodded, "It's a lot of money. We could find a place to live." She looked around. They were sitting in a dark park, hoping no one would force them out until the morning. "But it's no different than having sex for money! No. You won't do it. I forbid it.” "I'm the mother.” "Yes, but I'm the one that takes care of us.” "Enough," said Araceli, putting her foot down for the very first time in her life, "I'm the adult here. You're only nineteen. I decide what we do, and if I decide I'm taking the offer, I will. No discussion." There was a moment of awkward silence between the two. Araceli tried to look away, giving her daughter some sense of space. Though, they dared not to get too far away from each other at night. "If I had a room, I'd rush there and stomp the door," said Maria, and Araceli chuckled, and she did, too, "When do you have to do it?" …………………………………………… In her hotel, Lena had everything ready. She had bought diapers she was sure would fit Araceli. They had different bodies and hers wouldn’t actually cut it for what she intended. She also got more baby powder and baby wipes for diaper changes. Her camera was already set up. And she had the cash ready. She even ordered food and alcohol, perhaps, it would help break the ice. And now she waited. It would be her first time as someone's caregiver. The idea itself was exhilarating, enough to create a sense of warmness between her crotch. Knowing Araceli was vanilla and, like most people in the region, probably conservative, made the entire idea even more exciting. Controlling someone twice her age was something she had never expected, but it was a welcomed change. While she waited, she thought, why not? Her finger found their way to her wet pussy, caressing it slowly and carefully at first, thinking about the mature woman who she would soon put back in diapers. Lena was never meant to be the baby. She had always craved to be in charge. And now she was close to it and as the thought came to her mind, she reached the best climax she had had in ages. Her heart was beating fast and she was sweating slightly, and she was naked on top of the bed. It was going to be an interesting experience, that was for sure. She smiled and kept waiting. …………………………………………… Araceli didn't know what to say or how to act. Everyone in the hotel looked at her as if she had some sort of disease. She kept telling herself it was for her daughter, but she had to admit, that it was mostly for her. She wanted a better life. A different life. Her daughter didn’t mind. She didn’t lost everything when communism destroyed her country. She was born in poverty already, and it’s easier to live knowing you haven’t lost anything than it is to accept what you had is gone. She sighed as she found her way around the hotel hallways and stairs. She dared not take the elevator. Her smell alone would make it unpleasant for everyone, so she took the long route to the penthouse floor where the security guard told her Lena would be waiting. The outside of the hotel was luxurious and elegant, but inside, it was like something out of her imagination. If this was how people lived in countries with decent economies, was it better somewhere else? America, perhaps, was as good as her acquaintances had told her. She walked down the aisles and through, looking for the room where she would earn money enough to change her daughter’s life for good. If only it didn’t mean dishonoring herself. If only she didn’t have to submit to others’ demands to survive. She cursed her luck as the thought of being diapered again by someone much younger than her rushed through her brain. Would it be that bad? She had no time to answer herself as she reached Lena’s room. Hesitant, she knocked, and within a few seconds, the door opened. She took a deep breath and stepped in. The room was dimly lit, but she could make out the figure of a woman, younger than herself, sitting on a couch. She was sipping on a glass of wine, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light. The fragrance of fresh flowers filled the air, and soft, sensuous music played in the background. It was a surreal environment, so far removed from her reality that it left her feeling like she had walked into a dream. "Hola, Araceli," Lena greeted her warmly, setting her glass down on the table, "That's about as much Spanish you'll hear from me, though." There was a long pause as Araceli closed the door behind her. “Are you ready for this?” Asked Lena. Araceli nodded, hesitant about her answer, but knowing there was no other way for her.

Chapter 1 Tish held the pen in her hand. She was shaking and wasn't sure she would be able to sign the document in front of her. It was partly from fear and partly from anger. She still couldn't believe this was happening to her. She felt so alone but knew that there were millions of others facing the same thing. She looked down at the legal document in front of her. She had read through it twice but it didn't matter. At the bottom of the last page were spots for two signatures. On the left was a signature line labeled "Minor Person", waiting for her to sign. How could she be a minor person when she was 20 years old? Her birthday was in 4 days. This was rediculous. On the right was a second signature line labled "Sponsor/Adult" and that line had already been signed by her friend and roommate Jenn who was sitting next to her. Tish looked up at Jenn who was waiting for her to sign. Jenn gave her a reassuring look and nodded towardsd the paper, encouraging her to sign. All Tish could think about was how unfair this was. She and Jenn were practically the same age, yet they were in entirely different situations. Jenn was only a few months older than her and she was the 'adult'? If only she had been born a week early she could have escaped what was about to happen to her. She put that out of her mind and brought the pen down and awkardly signed the paper in front of her. "Thank you Tish. I know this is awkard for everyone but just know what you are doing here could save the human race.", The woman across the table took the signed documents, quickly reviewed them for accuracy and put them in a folder. "Uh huh, that's what they say.", Tish retorted. "Tish! Don't be one of those people. You know the science is clear on this. The whole world is doing their part in this. You should be taking this more seriously.", Jenn pleaded. "Want to switch places then?", Tish snapped back. "Jenn is right. You both need to take this seriously. The documents you signed today show your committment. Jenn, since you are acting as her sponsor and guardian with regard to the new laws, you will be held just as accountable as her to follow the rules and instructions." "We understand.", Jenn confidently replied while Tish folded her arms and looked down. "Tish, I we realize this is hard for you to accept. You just missed the age cutoff by a few days but there a lot of people going through the same thing. Frankly, I haven't seen anyone as reluctant or resitant to this as you. Jenn has spent a lot of her time going through the training necessary to be your sponsor. She has sacraficed a lot of her time and is taking on a big responsibility. You are lucky to have her. There are many people who aren't so lucky! People who don't have anyone close they can depend on. Those people have to depend on complete strangers, and it won't be easy for them, but we are all in this together. I guess what I'm saying is you are a lucky, and you should realize that. So I don't want to hear of any trouble from you two, ok?" Tish looked up at Emma and Jenn. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for what Jenn was doing for her but it didn't change the fact that all this seemed uncessary and unfair. She was so sick of hearing that we were "all in this together", everyone needs to "do their part" and all the other buzzwords and phrases the media and government pushed on everyone. She was sick of it. Anyone that spoke out against these new measures was deemed to be some sort of irrational selfish jerk. "No Emma, you won't. This is just such a strange thing going on for everyone. Everyone will come around I'm sure. And maybe it won't take long to find a cure or whatever. I'm pretty hopeful about that, but until then I'm sure we'll be fine once we get going and into the routine.", Jenn stated while massaging Tish's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "That is everyone's hope Jenn. Now if you don't mind, I've got about 50 more of these appointments today for the other stragglers. Please find your starter kit on the way out. It will be labeled with both of your names. Everything you need for your first week is included. Remember your training and everything will go smoothly. Remember, we have an appointment in 1 week from today, but remember that random inspections may happen at any time. Carry your ID with you at all times. Jenn, because you look young, you may be asked for proof of age. Tish of course won't have that problem. Good luck and I'll see you in a week." Tish and Jenn walked out of the office into a lobby full of people sitting and fidgeting awkwardly. All eyes were on them as if trying to seek out any information about how their meeting went. The room was full of different people of all ages. Guys, girls, children and their parents, friends, couples holding hands, and others. Tish wondered about all of the weird situations the new law would cause for people and their relationships. She wondered about her own relationship. Her boyfriend was 22, so he was immune to the restrictions. At first it made sense that he would be her sponsor but that option was quickly removed from the table. As the laws were being debated back and forth over the many months, some lawmakers got their way that there could be no opposite sex minor/sponsor relationships unless both parties were married or the person was a legal guardian. Of course, the government failed to take into account all sorts of other lifestyles, situations, exceptions etc. It was a typical bearucratic mess that you would expect. There were protests and speeches and marches, but in the end things move so fast that is how it ended up. No solution was perfect and no side of the argument got everything they wanted. The other fact was her boyfriend lived 45 minutes away which would also be inconvenient for other reasons. Luckily he was very supportive and said he would stand by her over the next year. Jenn found the box with their names on it and they loaded it into the car. The drive home was awkard. Jenn tried to make small talk and assure Tish everything was going to be ok. "You say that, but I'm the one having to go through this. I'm just really worried about John. He says he will stick by me." "He will. I've always like John, Tish." "I know but a whole year without sex? I just don't understand why we can't, you know, do other things. Why are they being so strict with all of it?" "Tish! We've talked about this before. You know why. The future of the human race is a stake. Even if you don't believe it or whatever, it's true!" "Yeah yeah, I know.. the science. But maybe we can sneak around somehow." "Tish, you know the rules. If you get caught.. Well, and...." "What?" "Umm, it's just that messing around is going to be pretty impossible for you." "Huh? Just what does that mean? Tell me!" "I'll explain everything in a bit ok? I'm really not supposed to tell you anything until we open the box later together." "Geez Jenn, like who is going to care. But whatever, you are always the rule follower." They arrived at their apartment in about 15 minutes and took the large box inside and set it on the floor. It was Sunday afternoon and they both had to work tomorrow, but they had a little time to relax before having to get ready for tomorrow or discuss the kit. They worked around the house for awhile, made dinner and opened a bottle of wine. When they were cleaning up dinner Jenn finally broke the ice. "Tish, it's time to go through the kit. There is a little worksheet we will have to do and things to discuss. We both have busy days tomorrow so we just have to do it and get it over with." Tish had noticed a slight change in Jenn's tone. Almost an suble aire of superiority or authority. She wondered if this was how it was going to feel for the next year. "I know.. I know I'm putting it off. I still can't believe this you know?" "I know.", Jenn took Tish's hand and squeezed it as she lead her over to the box. She knew a lot more about what was going to happen than Tish did. She had been through several training classes to become Tish's sponsor. For some reason they didn't want the minors, as they were called, knowing all the details. She knew right now all over the country people were about to do what they were doing. Open these boxes and have their lives changed. She knew people were probably live streaming it, blogging and posting things on the various social media sites. She tried to ignore the noise of all that and focus on what she could best do to support her friend through this. Jenn figured that after a couple of weeks the newness of all of it would wear off and people would just have to accept that this was the way of life for awhile and the world would adapt. Jenn handed Tish a pair of scissors. Tish slid the blade across the heavy tapes and the heavy cardboard box poped open. The scent of the air from inside the box hit her nose. It was unfamiliar to her but not unpleasant. She took a deep breath and peeled back the edges and looked in.

I’m new to writing so let me know what you think ☺️ Chapter 1 Jayne finds herself on an airplane, soaring high in the vast expanse of the sky. The sense of freedom and solitude envelops her as she is the only passenger on this plane. Soft, fluffy blankets surround her, swaddling her like dollops of whipped cream. The comforting embrace of the blankets brings her a profound sense of security and contentment. The blankets seem to stretch infinitely, taking up the entire plane, and Jayne feels as if she's floating on a cloud. As the plane ascends higher and higher, a delightful rush of butterflies flutters in her stomach, filling her with pure joy and exhilaration. The sensation of elevating in the sky, unburdened and weightless, is an experience she relishes. The enchanting melody of "Let it flow" by Spiritualized plays in the background, its gentle notes adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. With each passing moment, Jayne's heart dances to the rhythm of the song, amplifying the euphoria she feels. "Here it comes and then it goes And that feeling takes me home And I don't know where I'm goin' Let it flow" As the plane starts its descent, Jayne can't help but giggle with delight. The excitement of the downward shift fills her with a thrilling sensation. She feels as if she's on an adventure, descending into a world of pure bliss and ecstasy. The dream takes her to a place of complete release and surrender, where she lets go of all inhibitions and embraces the flow. Suddenly, Jayne is jolted awake by the song continuing from her alarm clock. "Let it flow..." Her heart still races with the remnants of the dream's euphoria. She realizes that her bladder is full, and she rushes to the bathroom. The relief she experiences as she uses the bathroom is similar to what she felt in her dream. Jayne, is a 30-year-old girl, free spirited, creative designer at a large gaming company. Slim and tone in posture, she has undergone a transformation in recent years, becoming more conscious of her health and well-being. This all thanks to her partner Ryan, who does marathon runs alongside his day job. Their one year relationship has been a catalyst for positive change, as she found herself motivated to adopt healthier habits. Long runs have become a regular part of Jayne's routine. She finds running to be relaxing. On the weekends she likes to unwind and make her runs a little more entertaining. This entertainment is fueled by vaping some of her favorite sativa weed. She enjoys the rush of endorphins and the melodic vibrations that flutter with each stride during her elevated run. In this headspace she is able to achieve not just a runner's high, but instead, the best of both worlds. The joy of running has become her therapy, allowing her to clear her mind and find solace in the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground. In addition to running, Jayne has embraced yoga as a way to balance her physical and mental well-being. She's discovered the transformative power of yoga, not only for its physical benefits but also for the sense of inner peace and mindfulness it brings to her life. Her wardrobe has also evolved to reflect her active lifestyle. Yoga pants have become a staple, not just for their comfort, but as a symbol of her commitment to a healthier and more balanced lifestyle. With Ryan away on an offsite project for the past six months, Jayne has found herself facing the challenges that typically come from a long-distance relationship. In the past, she had struggled with long distance relationships, but this time, she was determined to approach it differently. She knew that maintaining her fitness routine was more crucial than ever, as it not only kept her physically healthy but also helped her cope with the emotional distance between her and Ryan. Jayne has had to learn to trust and be patient, giving Ryan the space and understanding that he's immersed in his offsite project. The sporadic communication has made her anxious at times, but she's reminded herself that Ryan's dedication to his work was one of the things she admired about him. This past month, Jayne has struggled with feelings of uncertainty as Ryan has been really out of touch in communication. She has been trying to get herself to understand that the sporadic check-ins are likely due to his busy schedule, and she that she needs to trust in their relationship. Jayne's morning began like any other as she prepared for her remote workday from the comfort of her downtown apartment on the 33rd floor. Stretching and yawning, she embraced the tranquility of her living space with a sense of calm and purpose. Her cozy apartment was adorned with soft furnishings and elegant touches, creating a serene ambiance that inspired her creativity. After freshening up in the bathroom, Jayne made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Today, she was in the mood for a delicious omelette. But as she reached for the vegetables in her fridge, she realized she was out. Undeterred, Jayne decided to take a quick trip downstairs and a couple of blocks over to the morning farmers market. The prospect of getting fresh, organic vegetables excited her, and it was the perfect excuse to take a short break and savor the beauty of the city before diving into her work. Stepping outside her apartment building, Jayne felt the city's vibrant energy enveloping her. The sound of distant traffic and the chatter of people bustling about created a symphony of urban life. With a spring in her step, she strolled down the bustling streets towards the farmers market. As she reached the market, she was greeted by an array of colorful stalls, each offering a delightful selection of fruits and vegetables. The sights and scents of fresh produce invigorated her senses, and she relished the opportunity to engage with local vendors and support the community. Jayne carefully selected the ripest tomatoes, crisp bell peppers, and vibrant greens for her omelette. With her bag filled with the freshest ingredients, she made her way back to her apartment, feeling a sense of fulfillment and contentment. On her walk back to the apartment she decided to stop into her go-to pharmacy, Trust Pharnacy, which is convientally situated at ground floor of her apartment complex. She loves this pharmacy as it's always well stocked with her preferred zero-waste feminine products. This time around she notices that it's not only those products that are well stocked at this pharmacy. As she walked around, she found out that they moved her aisle to the back of the store and she had to traverse two different incontinence aisles. One of which looked like it was dedicated to single packaged adult diapers and the other for larger packages. As Jayne explored the back of the store, she noticed that her aisle had been moved to a more discreet location, hidden away from the main shopping area. She had to navigate through two different incontinence aisles to find her desired products. One aisle displayed single packaged adult diapers, while the other held larger packages. As Jayne approached her aisle, she couldn't help but notice a striking girl, who appeared to be around her age, refilling the diapers on the shelf. She notices the girl's posture and body form. Jayne is envious of how round and plump her ass is. Even after Jayne's rigorous squat routine for her workouts she has nothing on this employee's ass. This girl had a radiant smile, adorned with braces that Jayne found oddly attractive. Her name tag read "Aria" "Excuse me, could you help me get this pad brand?" Jayne asked. "Sure thing! Let me grab the..." Aria's reply was cut short by the store intercom broadcasting her number for clocking out. "I thought this time would never come. I can finally clock out" sighed Aria. She mentioned that she had worked overtime and was finally being relieved. "I'll be right back I have to get the right keys for this shelf" Aria said as she sped out of the aisle. Jayne found Aria's behavior peculiar as she hurriedly passed her, seemingly fidgety and eager to leave. It seemed that there was more to Aria's excitement than just the end of her shift, and Jayne couldn't help but be intrigued. Less than a minute later, Jayne hears footsteps advancing closer to her and sees Aria speed back into the aisle. Aria steps up on a short step stool and reaches for the flap to unlock the shelf and flips it up. "Is it this one?" Aria asked. "It's actually the one next to it that is almost out" replied Jayne. Aria seems to be bouncy in her posture. Since there was only one package of the pads left, Aria had to go on her tipy toes to reach for it. Jayne notices that she is bouncing her heals on the stool like she is jump roping without lifting her feetoff the ground. Suddenly an "ahhhhh" sigh softly exits Aria's lips. There is a sudden pause as Aria freezes with her arms deep in the shelf. After about 5 seconds of being frozen, Aria carefully steps down the stool and hands Jayne the pads. Aria looks at Jayne with a spacey gaze says "Here you go, have a good rest of your day!" Jayne sees Aria take off her apron and walk down the hallway very calmly towards the back room. Jayne couldn't help but observe Aria's movements as she walked towards the backroom to clock out. There was a subtle waddle in her step that Jayne found strangely cute. She tried not to stare, but her eyes were drawn to the oddly placed wet patch on Aria's butt. She notices Aria discreetly reach her hand out to grab something when passing through the aisle. The checker at the front scanned her pads and looked up at Jayne "I take it you must have met Aria, hehehe she is quite the free spirit!" Jayne nervously chuckled as she grabbed the bag and headed home to go make breakfast. As she cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them with care, she couldn't help but admire the panoramic view of the city through her large windows. The morning sun painted the skyline with warm hues, casting a golden glow on the bustling streets below. Jayne sautéed the vegetables with a hint of olive oil, savoring the aroma that filled her home. She expertly folded the omelette, creating a masterpiece of flavors and colors. As Jayne sat at the breakfast table, her mind couldn't help but replay the peculular encounter with Aria, the employee at the store. The puzzle pieces of Aria's behavior seemed to fit together in her mind, and a thrilling realization washed over her. The fidgety behavior, the sudden shift in composure, the weird wet patch on her butt, what she reached for in the aisle... it all pointed to one possibility...Aria wears diapers! But she not only wears them, she uses them. Aria was flooding her diaper while helping Jayne and it had leaked! Jayne changed topics in her head as she noticed it was 8:45 and she had to hurry to finish her morning tasks before the work day. Jayne logged in for the work but throughout her day her mind was racing. She found herself imagining Aria wearing a diaper, feeling the same sensations that had brought her pleasure in her dream. The day went by...Jayne had a typical work day, half virtual calls and half the other time to actually get her work done. Jayne logs off of work a little bit after 5pm. Her phone rings, and she notices that the number shares the same area code as Ryan's work phone. Curiosity mixed with a sense of unease, as she answers the call. It's not Ryan but instead a woman's voice on the phone.

This was a story I wrote back in 2022 as a gift to someone, I decided to re upload it here. I hope someone here enjoys it! ----------------------------------------------- Girl's Day Out The two figures of Rose Lalonde and Jane Crocker sat silently in their respective stroller seats. They didn’t say anything because of course they couldn’t. They both had their pacifier gags in their mouths. Although their legs and arms were already strapped to the sides of the large baby stroller, The looming figure of the Condesce leaned over them to strap seat-belts over their bodies. “Now, isn’t that betta?” She said. “Not gunna be getting no trouble from you two anymoray!”. She explained. The woman couldn’t do anything but squirm, glaring up at their captor, resenting every moment of this while the troll on the other hand was relishing every moment. Rose and Jane wore matching outfits, bows in their short cut hair, purple and blue onesies along with fuzzy gloves an booties that made their hands and feet practically useless. Around their necks were bibs that caught whatever drool that might have come from their mouths. The most damning feature about the pair was the thick crinkly padding around each of their waists. They both wore large thick diapers that fit tightly around their waists, spreading their legs and making it impossible for them to close their legs. Jane gave an undignified moan through her pacifier gag as the troll placed the seat-belt across her waist. “Now don’t be whining or I’ll make ya something to whine about!”. The Condesce said as she held up a small remote, flicking it on. Each of them had a vibrator bullet pressed up to each side of their crotches, not directly on their private parts but just close enough for them to feel every sensation from the toys and have them driving up the wall. Jane and Rose both gave out respective groans upon feeling the vibrators start up. “That should carp you two quiet for a while!”. The Condesce said with a cackle, watching the two girl’s face’s flush red from the sensation. The walked away and returned to with large bottles of milk. “Now, let’s get ya both proper filled up!”. She said. When she said “Proper filled up”. She really meant it as well. Starting with Jane who she seemed to have more of an affinity for- she took turns feeding the human’s bottles of milk, removing their pacifier gags and holding the nipple in their mouths until every last drop of the liquid was down their throats. Rose felt that her stomach was full, but was forced to drink the entire bottle, giving a few little series of coughs when she was done, and spitting milk up onto her bib as she did so. “Please no more m-MHMMHPM!”. She would say before the pacifier gag was unceremoniously placed back into her mouth. The Condesce gave a tutting sound as she waved her finger. “That’s not how good little babies speak to their mothers!”. She said, flipping the switch of the vibrator on once more. Jane tried to squeeze her legs together upon feeling the motion of the toys inside her diaper. It was safe to say that if one of them even thought of acting up or saying anything out of line, then the other girl would feel the repercussions of their actions together. “Now, what say I take you boat on a nice stroll through town huh?”. She asked the pair, not waiting for a response. The two humans couldn’t do anything as they were strolled down a busy street, blushing every time a troll would pass them. Some would make embarrassing and downright degrading comments, sometimes right to their face. But no matter how much they hated it, they knew that any complaining from either of them would face punishment. “You betta be getting use to this little ones, because we are going to be doing this for a long time!”. The Condesce said to them, stopping the stroller in front of what looked like an alien shop. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back!”. She gave a cackle as she entered the building, leaving Rose and Jane alone. Both of them gave a gasp almost instantly as they felt the vibrators start up again on the inside of their thighs. “Oh, almost forgot!”. The troll would be heard saying as her footsteps once again disappeared. Rose closed her eyes, her face and neck going bright red as she felt the pressure from the vibrators on her crotch. She didn’t know if the Condesce would be able to hear her or not, but she kept as quiet as she possibly could, only small gasps and whimpers escaping her mouth. Jane on the other hand was very noisy, squirming in her seat, and moaning and making lots of noises through her own pacifier gag. She squeezed her legs together, the crinkling of the diaper only contributing to the noise and feeling of the vibrator. Of course this spectacle wouldn’t go unnoticed by anyone walking past and soon a small crowd would form around the two humans in the crib. Rose tried to ignore the feeling of all those yellow alien eyes watching her, but it was very hard when people were constantly reaching to touch you. “Ah, I see you met my babies?”. The voice of the Condesce would be heard again as the pair would feel the handles of the stroller being taken once again. The small crowd all cooing and started taking pictures of the pair. Rose and Jade would feel the prying eyes and hands on their bodies, rubbing their stomach and hair as well as their diapers. This only caused further embarrassment to them both, Rose jerking her head away from the hands on her body. “Now, behave your two!”. The Condesce told them, turning up the vibrators up another notch. Jane let out a muffled staggered moan, her body stiffing up as she would be the first to orgasm in her diaper. Rose’s eyes widen as she squirmed in her seat, leaning her body away from Jane. The girl’s head flipped up and her face went bright red as her chest heaved up a down. Rose squeezed her legs together as well as she felt pleasure run through her own body. Soon joining Jane as she would orgasm in her own diaper, cute stifled noises and moans coming from her mouth. The Condesce smiled down at them. “I think ya’ both had a big enough day, let’s get you back home”. She said, pushing them down the street and back to were she came from. The pair were both exhausted from the result of the toys, the humiliation, and the length of the day. Soon Rose found her eyes fluttering as she begin to drift off to sleep. She woke up a while later, not sure how much later but she found herself still in the stroller. The sudden pang from her bladder was what jolted her fully awake. She squirmed in her seat, looking over at the face of the Condesce. “Aww, does someone need to go?”. She said, reaching down to press on Rose’s crotch. “Don’t worry. Let it allll out!”. She said, encouraging her. Of course once her bladder was pressed on so suddenly she couldn’t help herself and the entirety of what she had been drinking earlier emptied out into her diaper, a faint hissing sound the only thing that was heard for a solid minute as she felt the padding sag and swell up around her waist. All she could do was close her eyes, waiting for it to be over. Then to the Condesce's delight, Jane let out a muffled noise of her own, hearing the same noise coming from her as she would join Rose in wetting her diapers. Soon they would both be completely soaking the padding around their waists. Their diapers now stained a light shade of yellow. “Good job girls!” The Condesce commented, giving each of their diapers a squeeze, the padding making a respective sloshing sound. “But, you know I won’t change you until you both completely use them!”. She said, pushing the stroller across a busy street. Both of the humans looked at each other, sucking on their pacifier gags in worry and in reflex. Jane's stomach gave a gurgling noise which cause the troll to smile widely, unzipping the diaper bag she had with her just in case. It was going to be a long day and she knew it. ----------------------------------------------- Let me know if I should do a follow up to, or continue this story, any ideas or feedback would be appreciated!

So this is my first time, trying to write any kind of story revolving around ABDL and also one of the first time I've ever tried sticking my nose into creative writing at all. This is basically a preview. I would like some feedback on my writing style and also if this is an "story idea and concept" that people would like to see me put some time and effort into. To zero and back Chapter 0: ” You GOT to be joking!” My mother stared back at me with a dumbfound look on her face. “You can’t be serious, about such an idea!?” Her eyes didn’t flinch, as she just stared right at me, with a blank expression. “Mom, seriously, it’s a great idea and it’s NEVER been done before. And the people at the magazine already signed off on it. They think its brilliant! This could be my big break!” I could easily tell, that my attempts at convincing her, had little to no effect. “So let me get this straight.” Taking a zip of her coffee, she learned forward in the couch, staring even harder at me, from the other side of the living room table. “The biggest child and parent’s magazine in the country, “Mommy Mag” has agreed for you to write a parenting guide on potty-training, by first unpotty-training yourself and then training yourself again, alongside your baby cousin!? And how long did they give you to write this article?” “Two years.” I mumbled, trying to break free of her locked stare. “So what, one year to unlearn everything and then when your cousin turns three, you got one year to learn everything again alongside him and write this damn thing!?”. “Pretty much.” Her eyes did not flinch, she had barely blinked since the conversation started. “And what does the deal include.” She took another sip of her coffee. This was my shot, my one opening to sell her on the idea. “They have agreed to take care of all expenses, WHATEVER that may include, also I would be under full time contract the full 2 years, but will not have to meet into the office to work on the article. And Mom, the salary is great and when the 2 years are up, if the article gets printed, I’m guaranteed to have my contract renewed and is free to work on whatever I feel like afterward. It’s a great deal and I really think this could be my big shot, at making it in the business.” That last part wasn’t a lie, I truly did believe that this could be my chance of making it big in the journalism business. Ever since getting my degree almost a year ago, nothing had really gone my way and 12 months after finishing school, I was still living at home with my mom and had, little to no luck at getting my foot in the door anywhere. That was one of the reasons of this project of my, but there was another, one that nobody and especially my mom needed to know about. I’m an ABDL which stands for adultbaby diaper lover, it’s a kind of fetish that has its roots in ageplay and regression often revolving around wearing and using diapers. So basically being able to wear and use diapers and combine it with my work, which may lead to something bigger, while getting PAID to do so, was the ultimate dream come true. But first, I had to convince my mother, since I was living under her roof and this would come to affect her day and life. “And what does your aunt Karen and uncle Rob think of this?” “They are pretty cool with it, I’ve already ran the idea by them and it’s not like it’s really going to affect them. Especially not until cousin Jack turns two and then it’s still limited how big a part of it, he and they are going to play. I’m the test subject, Jack is only playing the role of control test, so I’ll have some routines to follow, while training myself back up.” She took another zip of her coffee cup, still looking skeptical, but her stare had lightened. “I still can’t believe, that my sister agreed to this.” She exhaled deeply. “And how exactly are you planning on….UNtraining yourself?”. “Well...” I hesitated for a second. “I’ve been reading a lot about it on the internet, there are actually a lot of information on the subject, believe it or not. In reality, it’s like un-training any other muscle and there’s also hypnosis and stuff, that should help with the process.” She continued to stare into her cup, not giving me a second look as she spoke. “Well Patrick, you’ve seem to have already made up your mind. And you’re an adult, it’s not like I can stop you and you seem to have done your research. If this is want you think you NEED to do, to get your career going and if you promise to take good care of yourself.” My eyes lit up, as she looked back up at me. “Then go for it,” JACKPOT! Chapter 1: After a rather quiet, but especially awkward dinner, I found myself sitting in front of my laptop, armed with my company credit card and ready to begin my project. Seeking out diapers was my first priority, it didn’t take me long to find a local site that sold incontinent product and offered express shipping. I ordered a case of plain white adult diapers, in medium thickness and capacity and continued on to the second target on my “to do list”. I had been looking at hypnotic ABDL files for a while. Most of them seemed too good to be true, offering complete incontinent and mental regression. But at one point I stumbled upon a webpage that didn’t promise too much and actually sported some great review of their files. One file offered help to induce urinary incontinent, making the listener more open to the thought of becoming less bladder control aware and accepting this fact. Another offered the same but included bowel incontinence. But the one I had my eyes on, offered both of these, plus included ties to mental regression and acceptance. Linking the thought of becoming incontinent, with the thought of being a toddler or infant. Mentioning allowing the user to not be embarrassed by the idea of wearing and using diapers, because that is what babies would do and making “giving up control” easier, as this train of thought and connection between the two grew stronger. That was all I needed to read and within seconds the file was ordered and arrived in my email inbox. That would be all, I would need for now and I put my trusted company card away and decided to call it a night. But not before transferring the hypnotic file to my phone, so I could listen to it while I slept. Laying in my bed, I plugged my headset in and played the file, which sadly turned out to be a disappointment. The field proved to be some sort of subliminal message, just a random mix of radio scatter and sounds bites. The only noticeable feature, was a faint sound of a nursery lullaby appearing from time to time. But still I found the simple thought of the promised effect and what awaited me in the near future arousing and jacked myself to a major orgasm, before falling asleep, the file still playing in my ears. I woke up the next morning refreshed and excited. Luckily Mom had left for work, when I got up so awkward encounter ruined the morning as I had breakfast and started my day. I did not achieve a lot that day, as I constantly found myself checking the driveway waiting for the delivery of my diaper order. But I did manager to kill some time in front of my laptop and after much thought came up with a name for my article. “To zero and back” I said to myself as a wrote the headline on the word document. That name seemed fitting, as I would be going back to zero potty training and then back again afterwards. The mere thought of that, got me excited. Finally, the doorbell sounded and I sprang across the house. Opening the door, I was greeted by a UPS driver, holding a large cardboard box in his arms. Quickly signing for the order and sending him on his way, I ran back across the house and into my room, throwing the box onto my bed before ripping it open. Inside I found exactly what I ordered. A shipment of plain white diapers, enough to surely last me a while. At least in the beginning. Now came the part I had been waiting for. Time to put on, what hopefully was my first of many diapers for a long time. I ripped one of the diapers out of the box and sniffed it. No apparent smell hit, to my disappointment, so I quickly continued to open the diaper and spread it out on my before, taking a second to admire it, before slowly unbuttoning my jeans and letting them drop down around my ankles, before stepping out of them. Next I removed my underwear, realizing this may be the last time in a while, that I wore such a pair of boxerbriefs. I turned around and placed my bum on the diaper, it felt thinner than expected, but still the feeling of the soft padding, sent chills down my spine, as I laid back and put the front up between my legs. Next came the tapes, which proved to be quite a challenge, as each side sported 2 pieces of sticky material. It took a lot of fiddling and several on and off attempts but finally I had all four pieces of tape attached and the diaper secured around my waist. After standing up and walking over to my bedroom mirror to inspect myself, it became clear that “secured” may have been an overstatement. The diapers were hanging rather loose and slightly crocket around my hips. It took 5 more minutes of fiddling and opening and reapplying the tapes, before I ended up with a semi acceptable result. There I stood, dressed in nothing but my t-shirt and a crinkly white diaper. This was a dream come true, but the dream quickly ended as I heard the front door open and my Mom enter the house. I panicked and quickly ran to pick up my pants, we may have had the talk and this may be a dream come true, but I was nowhere near ready to let my Mom see me, in just a diaper. The pants proved to be a challenge to put on, the diaper was thicker than expected and it took quiet a lot of effort to force my pants up and over the diaper, but I managed to close them around my waist and went to greet my Mom. As I entered the kitchen to meet her, I became aware of the crinkle that followed my every step, as a result of the diaper moving around my hips. I slowed my movement, careful not to walk to fast, as a mean to dampen the noise of my new underwear. “Oh there you are, so how has your day been?” My Mom was busy unpacking the groceries as I entered. “Fine I guess, I’ve got a bit of writing done and I even came up with a title for my article.” I picked up a grocery bag from the table and start unloading it into the cabinet. My Mom stood quiet for a moment, staring down at me, as I was kneeling in front of the cabinet. “So, how does it feel?”. I looked up at her with a confused look. “What do you mean?” I folded up the bag and stood back up. “How does it feel being back in diapers?” My mouth dropped for a second. “How did you know?” My response triggered a chuckle from her. “It pretty hard not to notice, that crinkle is pretty hard to ignore, also its peaking up from the back of your pants when you squat down and when you entered, you were waddling almost like a toddler trying to hide it.” She continued to chuckle, as she put the bags away. “Guess it’s something we both have to get used to. It’s not like you can sneak around for the next 2 years, trying to hide it.” At this point my face was burning bright red, this was one of the things I hadn’t thought about, but she was right. I spent the next few hours “hiding” in my room, trying to avoid awkward diaper contact with my Mom, until the time came for my bladder to declare itself “full”. “This is it.” I mumbled to myself, as I stood up from my desk. Standing in the center of my room, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body. Nothing. I took a deep breath, exhaled and relaxed. Again, nothing. This was proving to be quite a challenge, and this whole untraining concept, may be harder than expected. Once again I took a deep breath, held it, exhaled and FINALLY. I felt a warm flow spread around my crotch, as the diaper flooded and consumed the urine flowing from my body. The warmth continued to spread across the front of the diaper, slowly making its way towards the back and… DOWN MY LEG!? I opened my eyes, just in time to catch the first drops of liquid, roll my thigh and onto the floor. “SHIT!” I mumbled loudly. The flow of urine stopped, but it was clear that my diaper had leaked and I had managed to make a mess on the floor. “Guess I didn’t do such a good job after all.” I thought, as I stood there contemplating my situation. I quickly made my way to the bathroom. First to rip off the “failed” diaper and wash myself off with a cloth, before grapping a roll of paper and run back to my room for a quick clean up. With the mess taken care off, I dropped the used diaper in the bathroom waste bin and soon found myself back in my room, fresh diaper in hand and ready to give it another try. Once again I placed the diaper on my bed and started placing it around my hips. AND once again I found myself having to fiddle with the tapes for several minutes, applying and reapplying them, before I ended up with an acceptable result. At this time, Mom was yelling that dinner was ready, so I threw my pants back on and slowly snuck my way to join her. Nothing particular happened for the rest of the night, as we both tried avoiding starting any awkward conversation during dinner, before I quickly snuck my way back to the safety of my room, where I spent the rest of the night, until it was time for bed. Laying in my bed that night, the hypnotic file playing through my headset. I quickly discovered that falling asleep wearing my new underwear would prove to be a challenge. The extra padding between my legs, made laying on my side rather difficult, not to mention the loud crinkle that followed my every movement and the extreme heat that was generated around my groin. But finally after much tossing and turning, I drifted off to sleep. 1 day down, 729 to go.

It's been a long time since I tried any creative writing but thought I would give it a go, appreciate any comments / feedback on what I have written so far. The ABDL part doesn't start to show itself until chapter 2. The image doesn't quite capture the story but I can't draw so was just trying to get something from an AI that somewhat fitted the story. Chapter 1 - Welcome to ARC As Michael surveyed his surroundings, he began to think this might not be such a nightmare after all. It had all started a month ago, on a rainy Saturday morning. A hungover Michael had been lying in bed going through his emails, he came across something entirely out of the ordinary. An email from ARC Education notified Michael that he failed to turn up for an exam five years ago while studying for his undergraduate degree. It went on to state that because of this, he did not have enough credits for his degree, which was now considered null and void, and that he should contact ARC Immediately. Michael's heart hammered against his ribs as he stared at the email. His hands trembled as he scrolled back and forth, rereading the message that threatened to unravel his entire life. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios: losing his job, facing humiliation, and being labeled a fraud. Each possibility felt like a crushing weight on his chest, suffocating him with dread. He paced back and forth in his dimly lit bedroom, his thoughts spiraling into a chaotic whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. He needed to talk to someone to make sense of this nightmare before it consumed him entirely. Luckily, Amanda picked up the phone on the second attempt. "Michael?" Amanda's voice crackled through the phone, bearing the remnants of a night that seemed to have treated her as unkindly as it had him. Michael rushed to unload the contents of the email to her, his words tumbling over each other in haste. But before he could finish, Amanda's voice sliced through the air with a sharpness that snapped him to attention. "Michael," she said firmly, "it seems like you may have had too much to drink last night and are mistaking a dream for reality. Rest, and we can discuss it again in a few hours." "It's not a dream," Michael insisted before Amanda could disconnect the call. "I'm forwarding you the email right now." Amanda fell into a thoughtful silence as she perused the email. When she finally spoke again, her tone had softened, laced now with concern. "This seems too coherent to be spam." Michael held his breath, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. "I don't recall you ever missing an exam," Amanda mused, her words slow and deliberate. "But considering we didn't share all the same classes and had a knack for skipping lectures, it's plausible." She paused and exhaled heavily. "Like I said before, it sounds like a bad dream, but maybe this does happen from time to time, and that's where people get the idea from," she said. Amanda paused again and then took a deep breath, her voice now confident. "But you would never have graduated if you had missed an exam, and the university would inform you directly if there were some kind of issue." All the anxiety seemed to lift from Michael as he heard these words: "So you're saying I can ignore this?" "Well," Amanda said, concern returning to her tone. “There wouldn't be any harm in getting in touch with the University to be sure; if there is anything to this, they would have had to be the ones to inform this other company." The dread returned to Michael, but Amanda's plan was sensible. He made her promise to keep this to herself before wishing her luck with her hangover and hanging up to call the University. Michael found the University's website, which he noted had changed dramatically since he had last seen it, and rang the examination office. Given that it was the weekend, he was surprised that someone picked up the phone, but after the third time being put on hold, his fears were confirmed. The examination office stated that while reviewing their records, they had come across a missing examination grade, and after an internal investigation, they had been forced to invalidate his grade. However, they decided to pass the situation on to ARC, a private research company that may be able to resolve the issue. Any lingering hangover Michael had was now well and truly gone. He only felt panic and wanted nothing more than to find a place to hide and forget this was happening. So it surprised Michael when he found he had typed in the number for ARC on his phone and hit the call button. ———— An hour later, Michaels mood couldn't have been more different from when he had first opened the email despite the fundamental situation remaining unchanged. The lady on the other end of the phone understood his situation. She had been quick to point out that it was the University's mistake as well, given that they had awarded him the degree. It was in everyone's interest to resolve the situation quickly and discreetly. She presented Michael with two options: the first was to spend a semester back at the University, retake the module, and then sit the exam he had missed with the other students. The second option was that ARC, a research organization, would use its resources to put him on a two-week sprint program to cover the material and exam at its expense in exchange for Michael's assistance with its research on memory. Option one wasn't an option at all for Michael. It would mean stepping away from his life and job, adding to his already immense student debt and the embarrassment of everyone knowing his situation. While the lady on the phone had recommended he take a few days to think about it, Michael accepted option two immediately. He knew he would have no issue getting the time off work; his boss had been encouraging everyone on the team to take a vacation while the office was quiet anyway. Most importantly, this meant that nobody would find out what had happened. Michael called Amanda back later in the day to tell her it had all been a scam and there was nothing to worry about, to which she was greatly relieved (clearly, she hadn't been able to convince herself that Michael hadn't been foolish enough to miss an exam). Over the next month, Michael had a few conversations with the lady from ARC. She explained that he would live at their state-of-the-art headquarters during the program, with all meals and amenities covered by the company. Then, after he had signed several confidentiality agreements, the nature of the research was also outlined to him, and it seemed genuinely exciting. So, as Michael stood in the ARC lobby, he was almost looking forward to the two weeks ahead. The lady from ARC (who it turned out was called Rachel) met him at reception, gave him his schedule for the next few days, and then took him on a tour of the facility. Monday Morning: Orientation Afternoon: ARC. Research Tuesday Morning: Lesson 1 Afternoon: ARC. Research Wednesday Morning: Lesson 2 Afternoon: Practise Assignment Chapter 2 - Memories? When Michael first heard Rachel's voice on the phone, he assumed she was much older than him due to her smooth, caring tone. She also exhibited a high level of intelligence that suggested she had been working in her research field for a lifetime. However, Michael couldn't have been more mistaken. Rachel was around the same age as him, dressed professionally in a black suit, with her long blond hair tied up in a ponytail. Rachel took Michael on a tour of the facility and he was amazed that not only did she know everyone by name, she was also just as knowledgeable about their research as her own. Her small ideas always brightened the mood of her colleagues, leaving them excited to try something new. The headquarters itself was unlike anything Michael had ever seen before. Rachel began by taking him to the room he would stay in, which was much bigger than his apartment. It featured a king-size bed, a huge TV, and a separate office for his studies. Following this, Rachel showed him around some of the workstations, where almost all the walls were made of glass panels, except for a few offices that senior management used for confidential meetings. This design made everything feel more light and open. All the computers looked brand new, with some workstations featuring VR headsets and access to supercomputers for complex processing. It was a lot to take in, but the best part was when Rachel led him into what she called the canteen. Canteen certainly wasn't the word Michael would use; the place was set out like a fancy restaurant, with a few of Rachel's colleagues already seated and eating anything from steak to Lobster. Michael was new to such high-quality food, so he ordered as much as he thought would be polite. Still, he couldn't help but think about returning later by himself to indulge in every dish the place had to offer. After treating himself to a second dessert, Michael was taken to the research area, his home, for the next few weeks. This room was simple and plain, unlike the glass-encased offices he had seen earlier. The walls were white, with little to no distractions, except for a large window that revealed a computer-filled room. The centre of the room had a solitary chair that reminded Michael of a dentists chair, with its frame entwined with cables that disappeared into the adjacent room through the window. Rachel led Michael towards the chair and began running through what they had already discussed on the phone. ARC had been working on state-of-the-art technology that allowed people to experience their memories as though they were happening to them again. She explained that it was similar to seeing a memory in a dream. They hoped that one day, anyone could relive any memory they wanted at the touch of a button, but there was much more research to do before they got to that stage. Because Michael couldn't remember missing an exam, he would also be a test case to see if they could locate missing memories in a person. This might mean that, eventually, the technology could help people with Amnesia. Rachel left the room after getting Michael seated and attaching some cables to his temples. She reappeared in the adjoining room dressed in a lab coat alongside another younger-looking colleague. "Michael, this is Luke. He is going to be helping me out for the next two weeks. It's his first day here, a bit like you I guess, so you will both be learning more about our research as we go along." Luke was younger than Michael and looked like he had just graduated from school. Having only spoken to Rachel about the research, Michael was a little uncomfortable with having someone else there. Then he then remembered the creme brûlée he had just eaten and realized a little discomfort was worth the price. "Well, we have a lot to cover, so let's get started," Rachel said. "Today, we'll mostly be calibrating the machine with you, Michael. If you could start by closing your eyes, we'll dim the lights and begin." Michael closed his eyes as the room darkened, and Rachel's voice returned to the room before he could think about what was to come. "To calibrate the machine, we need to give it a spectrum of your memories. We like to keep it simple, so first, let's try your most recent memory, and then we can try your oldest memory to see how they compare. "So, for your most recent memory, all I need you to do is picture yourself walking into the room with me and sitting in the chair." Michael was surprised at what Rachel had asked him to do. He knew nothing about how this would work but he had expected a lengthy induction process, potentially even hypnosis, to get him into a specific state of mind to experience his memories. He began to consider whether the research was anything more than a fantasy of Rachel's and not the miracle she had discussed. But he trusted Rachel and was there to do a job, so he decided to see what would happen if he thought of himself simply walking into the room. Immediately, there was a flash of blinding white light and a slight pinch coming from whatever had been attached to the side of his temples. When the light faded, Michael found himself being led back into the room by Rachel, just as he had done a few moments before. He was back viewing the world from his former self's perspective. He realized he couldn't control his limbs or even choose where to look. It was like he was a second version of himself watching the original version play out a scene. He could focus on certain parts of the memory, the way Rachel's hair moved as she led him towards the chair or the taste of dessert still lingering in his mouth. Part of him had expected to be able to freeze the memory in place if he focused hard enough, but events played out just as they had. As Michael looked to see Rachel and Luke enter the other room, the blinding white light returned. When it faded, Michael was back in the room. "Is that really how my hair looks from the back?" Rachel's said, sounding alarmed. "You can see that!" Michael exclaimed, turning to face Rachel and Luke, who were removing what looked like VR headsets and placing them on the table. 'Well, it's not quite as vivid for us as it is for you, but yeah, we can see what you see, and the computers even give us some readouts to indicate how you are feeling". "Can you look at all of my memories with that thing?" Michael asked, suddenly fearful of what they might be able to see. Rachel reassured him, "No, we can only see the memory you are focusing on at that time. And if you are worried about confidentiality, don't be. I signed the same confidentiality agreements as you did." Michael wasn't entirely reassured, but he started to think about everything this technology could do. He could live out the highlights of his life whenever he wanted, even revisit conversations with relatives who had passed away. On top of that, it wouldn't matter that he lived in a small apartment if he could relive the memory of himself lying on a beach in Thailand whenever he wanted. Rachel's voice once again brought Michael back from his thoughts. "Now Michael, that first one was simple, partly because it was so recent and partly because I was there so I recognized what was happening. If you remember, I said we need to calibrate the machine, so now we need to look at your first memory, which may be much more difficult. Can you describe your first real memory for me?" Michael started explaining a time when he was four and had fallen off a swing at the park. He had half expected to see the flash of white light and be there when Rachel began speaking. "If I am being honest, Michael, that sounds like what someone has told you happened rather than an actual memory of your own. Can you try to think of your first actual memory for me?" While he was annoyed at being told his memory wasn't his, he had to admit that he couldn't remember how it had felt to fall off the swing, and there had been a picture of him at the park at his parent's house growing up. He spent a few minutes racking his brain before saying, "Well, I am not sure it's the sort of thing you're looking for, but I have a small flash of a memory of being sat on the carpet at school while the teacher read a book to us, I was probably about seven." "That sounds perfect. Now, all you need to do is close your eyes and concentrate on what you remember, be it the feel of the carpet beneath you or the sound of your teacher's voice." Michael did as he was told, and after a few moments, there was a flash of light and a jolt at his temples. This time, when the light faded, Michael was genuinely amazed. He was inside a much smaller version of himself looking up at his teacher, Mrs Stone, a woman he hadn't thought about in nearly twenty years, yet there she was. She looked about the same age as Michael was now (yet the younger brain he was currently inhabiting thought of her as old), with her long, messy brown hair and oversized glasses. She was reading to the class, and Michael suddenly realized how safe he felt sitting there and the awe at the story. He wanted nothing more than to listen to what would happen to the brave mouse Mrs Stone was telling them about, but the adult Michael was also busy trying to take in the memory and his surroundings. He was sitting on an old grey carpet with his legs crossed, wearing his school uniform—a polo shirt and shorts—like all the other boys. The walls were decorated with brightly colored pieces of work that he and his classmates had worked so hard on. The room was filled with small tables and chairs that were made for someone of his size. At the back of the room, he could see his beloved backpack, which was a brilliant shade of blue with a giant dinosaur embossed on it. He felt a sense of pride wash over him at the sight of the backpack. The dinosaur on it was the biggest one he knew of, a T-Rex. Before he could take it all in, he was once again presented with the white flash and returned to the present, completely stunned by what he had seen. "Holy Shit," Michael exclaimed. "Did you see that? It was like I was seven years old again?" Rachel still seemed to have the headset on and offered no immediate response. Unlike before, the pinching at his temples continued even after leaving the memory. He started to reach up to see if he could adjust them when Rachel finally spoke. "Unfortunately, that didn't seem to work quite so well on our end," her voice not filled with the same excitement as before. "I think we saw a bit of the classroom, but everything was so blurry I couldn't make anything out." "As I said, the older memories are more difficult, but they are important to ensure we can calibrate the system. Please stay where you are and give us a few more minutes while we make some adjustments. Then, let's try it again." Michael wanted to mention the painful sensation, but Rachel had said to stay put, and it wasn't so bad anyway. After a few minutes, Rachel invited him to try again and warned him there might be a bit more pain this time as the system needed to work harder to ensure they could access the older memories. Michael once again closed his eyes, and after a few moments, a white light and a significant amount of pain in his temples, he was back in the classroom. While the memory appeared the same as it had before, as Michael looked toward his teacher, he could still feel a slight pain inside his tiny head. He listened to his teacher before taking in the room around him as he had done before. The boys were all dressed in polo shirts and shorts, and the girls in dresses with checked patterns. He looked down to admire his uniform. The school dress wasn't his favorite, but at least it was comfortable, much like his diaper which he felt rustling between his legs. Again, his eyes looked around the room at the various creations he and his classmates had made before coming to rest on his beloved backpack. It was easy to make out from the small pile at the back of the room. It was the perfect shade of pink with the image of the most beautiful princess wearing a white dress on the front. He began to look back towards the teacher as she continued her story as the white light flashed. This time the light seemed to linger for much longer, but he couldn't tell if it had been a few seconds or a few minutes. When his senses returned Michael jumped out of the seat, the device attached to him falling away as he did and turned towards Rachel, who was still taking off her headset. "Did you see that?" he said with a mixture of panic and embarrassment. Rachel saw Michaels's panic but looked confused. "Yes, we saw it," she said, "and it worked perfectly that time. Was there a problem on your side?" "The problem is that," Michael began, but he couldn't think what he would say. "Oh," Rachel said, shaking her head as though she finally understood something obvious. If you're embarrassed at what you wore to school that day, don't be. Believe me, I have seen so many early memories, and most boys want to see what it's like to wear a dress one day, and most girls want to dress up like a boy for a day. And if it's the other thing, then remember, kids of all ages have trouble with that stuff and relapse from time to time. Michael was partially reassured, but something still felt very strange. He knew the memory was his; it was his earliest real memory, but he had never understood why he had worn a dress to school that day or what accident had led to him needing to wear a diaper. Rachel didn't seem impacted by what she saw. "Well, I think that was a great success," she chirped. "I am sure you would like to do some more. I know I would love to keep going, but it's day one, and it's important we don't push ourselves too hard here. After all, you are not just here to help us with this; you must study tomorrow." Chapter 3 - ARC As Michael left the room, Luke turned to Rachel, who had begun rapidly typing up notes from their session. Luke had recently graduated with an MBA in psychology, specializing in the workings of human memory. Despite this and having been extensively briefed on the work being done at the facility, he was astonished by what he had just witnessed. With barely any work, they had successfully rewritten a person's memory, with the subject being none the wiser. "Impressive, isn't it," Rachel said, looking up from her note-taking. "We didn't create any brand new memories today, but two out of three isn't bad." The three Rachel referred to were the foundations of what she was creating. The machine could alter existing memories and make brand-new ones. This was the A and the C in ARC, addition and change, the ordering of the letters didn’t make logical sense, but someone in corporate clearly thought it sounded cool. Alongside changing Michaels memory, Rachel had run a process called reverberation. Reverberation allowed the mind to re-process any new or altered memories so the patient would accept them. If, for example, someone's memory was changed so that their first memory of their first car was green instead of black, their subsequent memories would be altered to accept this and so they always thought of the car as green. Having gone back to such an early memory showed how far the system had come. From Luke's reading, when the first tests had been done, it was almost impossible for the mind to accept anything from more than a few months prior, as the impact on other memories would cause too much of a disconnect for the participant. This was Rachel’s masterpiece and while the potential of the technology filled Luke with wonder, it also filled him with fear. Changing one persons memories for science was one thing, but if everyone on earth had a headset to view their memories and a corporation (or a government) had the capability to make changes to those memories, the implications were potentially disastrous. "How much will his memories change? Will he think he always wore a dress and a diaper to school?" Luke asked, his understanding of the process still in its infancy. "No, I kept the impact of the change minimal this time. To him, it will be an embarrassing moment that he never spoke about to anyone," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "We need to make a few more changes before we allow that memory to change him more substantially, but he won't forget how comfortable that special underwear felt," she said with a wry smile. The way Rachel described it was as if it was all so obvious. Luke had always thought of himself as intelligent, yet despite her being only a few years his senior and his studies, it was like he was a five year old trying to figure out how nuclear fission worked. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, trying to push away the feeling that there was nothing he could do that she couldn’t do a million times better. She looked at him "It's your first day, Luke. For the next few months, I don't need you to do anything more than observe and study what we are doing and maybe write a few reports. If you can study the logs of what we changed between the two memories and look through the reverberation file, that will be enough for now." Luke took his seat and opened the output files on his computer, but before he started reading, he asked, "Isn't it too much of a contradiction for him to have played out the same memory twice?" Rachel smiled. "He will remember both memories being the same, and tonight he will sleep, which will allow his mind to embed the altered memory further, and then we can start to have some fun."

Thank you, CDfm, for pointing out the issues. I hope I fixed them all. If anyone sees any more errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Update: I think I got them all this time. *** Do I have to? by nautybaby "Do I really have to?" "I really think you should." "But I don't want to." "We've been over this." "But I don't need them." "Last night and the laundry I've been doing lately says otherwise." "It won't happen again. I promise." "I've heard that before." "It's not fair!" "Fair or not, I won't have you ruining my friend's bed." "No!" I shouted. "You can't make me." "David!" she said sharply without raising her voice. "That's enough. I think we both know I can make you. Now, get your butt on that bed, and keep your voice down. That is unless you want Sharon to hear you getting a spanking on top of the tantrum you've been throwing." "You wouldn't," I blanched. "Try me." I looked into her steely eyes and slowly made my way to the bed. I lay down and gave her a pleading look. She simply grabbed the waist of my pajamas and began to tug. I gave in and lifted my bottom, allowing her to pull them down. She reached into my suitcase and pulled out the object of my dread. She had shown me the diapers before we left, but no matter how many times I saw them, I never got over just how big and thick they actually were. "Lift." I did and fought the urge to cry. She made short work of securing the diaper around my waist. She put the pajama bottoms back in my suitcase and locked it. "If you behave yourself, you can have those back in the morning." "You don't mean…" "We'll see. Now, get in bed." That was the end of a conversation that had been going on all day. Conversation, humph. Argument more like. It started when we were packing for the trip. I thought we were about ready when she brought out the package of diapers. "Are those what I think they are?" "Isn't that obvious?" "What do you have those for?" "Seriously?" "You don't expect me to wear those?" "I certainly do." "No way." "Yes way." "I won't." "You will. Now, hurry up. We're already late," she said, loading a number of the diapers into the case. "I don't need them. I've only had a couple of problems." "It started out as a couple of problems. It's gotten to be almost every night." "Yeah, almost. See, it's getting better. I'm not going to wear them." "You are going to wear them, and that's final. Now, get dressed." She said all this so matter-of-factly that it made my blood boil. I stomped over to the suitcase and started taking the diapers out. I felt a sharp sting in my right bottom cheek. I shot up straight and turned around. "You will put those back, unless you want some more." Her eyes were hard. "No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "David, put those back right now, or so help me…" I stood my ground, hoping my trembling didn't show. "Is that really the way you want to play it? Have it your way." I thought I had won the battle. That feeling lasted only a second before pain erupted from my ear. She spun me around by it and threw me face down on the bed. There was a knee in my back and slaps were raining down on my underpants. "Stop. Stop!" "Are you going to pack your diapers and stop fussing?" "No!" "Fine. If that's the way you want it." "No!" I screamed, as my underwear was yanked down. After that, my words got less and less comprehensible until I was simply blubbering. Still not dressed, my belt was in handy reach to her. She put it to good use—good from her perspective anyway. "Are you ready to do as you are told?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Good. Finish packing and get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes. Don't make me have to 'encourage' you. And you can start with the diapers. I'll be back for the case in just a minute. It had better be ready." I hastily repacked the diapers and the rest of my clothes. True to her word, she was soon back, and after checking to see that I had indeed packed the diapers, she locked the case and took it downstairs. That left me a few minutes alone to nurse my bruised pride and bottom while I finished dressing. I found her behind the wheel of the car, waiting to get on the road. I climbed in the other side and sulked. We couldn't have been on the road for more than five minutes before I started restating my position about why I shouldn't have to wear diapers. She didn't argue with me. She listened in silence. I felt encouraged that I was making my point, my reasoning becoming more shrill the longer I went on. I found I was repeating myself, and she had yet to utter a word. My tirade petered out. After a minute of silence, she quietly asked, "Are you finished?" "Um, yeah, I guess." "Good. You've had your say. Now, I'm going to have mine. Like it or not, you have a problem. I've been extremely patient about it. I've even been the one to clean up after you. It's not going away. It's getting worse. We are going to be staying with my friend. I do not want you embarrassing me or yourself by wetting her bed. You are going to wear those diapers, and you are going to stop fussing about it. If you insist on being a big baby about it, I can treat you like one. That includes pulling this car over, spanking you again, and putting you in one of those diapers for the rest of the trip. I'm already not happy with you. Would you like to try your luck?" "No." "Good." The trip was mostly silent aside from some tunes softly playing on the radio. I stared out the window, opting to table the discussion for the time being. Occasionally, she nudged me and told me to stay awake, unless I wanted to put a diaper on and take a nap. Eventually, I faced forward, so she could see I was awake, and pouted. If I had been eight or ten or even twelve, I suppose these events would be understandable. But I was not twelve, and the woman driving was not my mommy. I was thirty-two, and she was my wife. When we arrived, Kathy, my wife, and Sharon hugged and air kissed like long-lost sisters. Sure, we lived far enough apart that they didn't see each other often, but they were on the phone at least once a week. I shook my head and got the bags. "Sorry we're late," Kathy said. "Packing took a bit longer than I expected." I had the impression that comment was aimed at me, but I ignored it. "Don't worry about it. It's just so good to see you. I know how it can be. You should try it with a baby sometime. I still can't believe the amount of stuff I had to get ready for Phil to take Abby for the week." I tried to picture Sharon's ex taking care of a baby on his own. I don't know if I found the images more funny or frightening. Oh well, maybe one of his girlfriends will help him out. "Yes," Kathy mused. "Packing for a baby can be a lot of work." I was sure that was directed at me. Again, I chose to ignore it. "Come on inside. Dinner's almost ready. Dave, you can take those right upstairs, first door on the right. You know the spot." When I came downstairs, Kathy asked, "Did you wash your hands?" I didn't like the way they both giggled. "Yes, I washed my hands," I replied irritably. "Don't be grumpy. I was just asking." Dinner was a long drawn out affair. Kathy and Sharon went on and on about this one and that one. I was mostly ignored, which suited me fine. I didn't have the slightest interest in whoever and whatever they were talking about. Mainly, I just picked at my food and drank more than my share of wine. During a lull, Sharon turned to me, "So, Dave, what's new and exciting with you these days?" "Nothing much," I mumbled. "Don't mind him," Kathy interjected. "I think he's just overtired from the trip. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Her accusing tone was not lost on me. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tired." "I think we better get you into bed then." "Why, Kathy!" Sharon exclaimed. "I meant to sleep, you sex fiend," she laughed. "Come on, Davey, upstairs." Whether it was the trip or the wine, I was tired. I bade Sharon goodnight and climbed the stairs ahead of Kathy. "You go potty, then meet me in the bedroom," she said. Not thinking, I did as instructed. When I got to the bedroom, I saw her laying out the diaper on the bed. That's where you came in. Kathy had me tucked in and started to leave to room. "Where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not just yet. Sharon and I have more to talk about, and there's most of a bottle of wine it would be a shame to waste. You go to sleep, and I'll be up in a while. I lay there for a time, replaying the day in my head. If I hadn't been tired and buzzed, I might have been more upset. Every now and again, I would hear their raucous laughter. I did my best not to believe they were talking about my sleeping attire. My thoughts turned to how I got into this mess in the first place. It started about month before. I had gotten a new boss, and it wasn't going well. Nothing seemed to please him. There was always something wrong, and no matter how small the problem was, he acted like it was the end of civilization as we know it. The harder I tried to anticipate what was wanted, the farther my attempts were from what he had in mind. I tried to get clearer instructions, but that only seemed to make him madder. It was really taking a toll on me and, no doubt, on Kathy. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't set work aside at the end of the day. All I could think of was what the next confrontation was going to be about. I was distracted and short tempered. Even my dreams were filled with anxieties about everything that had happened and visions of what might be ahead. When I was able to sleep at all, it wasn't good. After a week of mostly sleepless nights, I found myself shaken awake by Kathy. I was completely disoriented and not hearing what she was saying. I don't know how many times she repeated it before it finally sank in. "David, wake up. You wet the bed." "What?" "You wet the bed." I rolled toward her, and it dawned on me. I wet the bed. That's right. She said that. Still only half awake, all I could say was, "I'm sorry." Kathy told me to go to the bathroom and clean up, and she would take care of the bed. Still to fuzzy to think, I did as she told me. My wet pajamas cooled quickly as I went. I stripped off and sat on the toilet, trying to clear my head. By the time I was awake enough to push out the little pee I had left and get washed up. I was deeply embarrassed by what I had done. I almost wanted to stay in the bathroom just to avoid having to look at Kathy. When I did come out, she was smoothing out towels over the wet spot. I almost went back in. "Good, you're finally back. Help me get the clean sheets on. Maybe we can still get some sleep before we have to get up." I picked up the bottom sheet and shook it out. She signaled she was ready, and I fluffed it over the bed. The two of us made short work of remaking the bed, and I thought Kathy was being really good about the situation. "Did you make sure to go peepee while you were in there?" So much for that. "Yes," I said, a bit more harshly than I intended. "Don't get snippy with me. I'm not the reason we're changing sheets in the middle of the night." "Sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Me too. Let's go back to bed, and we'll forget all about it. Okay?" "Okay," I said and hugged her tight. "I love you, and I am sorry." "I love you too. Now, go to sleep. Morning's going to come awfully early." That was easier said than done. I don't know how Kathy managed it. I lay there listening to her breathing, wondering how I could have wet myself and worrying that I might do it again. I think I drifted off just before the alarm went off. Work the next day was miserable. Besides the usual grief from my boss, my eyes were burning, and my head was pounding all day. By the time I got home, I was an exhausted wreck. After pushing my dinner around the plate for a while, I told Kathy I was going to bed. "I think that's a good idea. You had a rough night, and you look awful." "Thanks a lot." "You know what I mean. Go on. I'll clean up here. Don't forget to use the potty before you go night-night." "Not funny!" "Oh, come on. You know I'm joking. You may as well laugh as cry. It was just a one-time thing. Go get some rest, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed her advice, even stopping to "use the potty" on the way. Totally wiped out, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not that it brought much rest. My dreams were the now usual of instant replays and anxious fantasies I had suffered for days. "Wake up, David," I heard, before I felt the shaking. "David, wake up." Once I realized it was Kathy, and not my mother trying to get me up for school, I sat bolt upright, panicking that I had done it again. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it." "It's alright, Dave," she said soothingly. "You didn't do anything. You didn't, did you? You were just having a bad dream. But as long as you're up, you may as well use the potty, just to be safe." I apologized and kissed her, and then decided a pee might be a good idea at that. There was a small wet spot on my pajama pants, but the bed was dry. I didn't mention it, and if Kathy noticed, she was kind enough to let it pass. Having limited my fluids all day, I don't know where it all came from. I did know I feel a lot better when I climbed back into bed. I slept better that night and felt more like my old self in the morning. That lasted for about an hour after I got to work. Then it was what had come to be business as usual. It was a particularly bad day. I was pushed and pulled in so many directions, I was beginning to doubt the sky was blue. If I had been thinking clearly, I probably would have guessed it was going to happen again. Kathy was again supportive and more patient than I felt I deserved. Again, she got us cleaned up and back to sleep in short order. I had a few good days, with no nighttime problems, even though things were just as bad, if not worse at work. I was starting to feel confident when it happened a third time. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream, and I think Kathy knew it. Once back in bed, she held me and whispered reassuring things until I went to sleep. The pattern continued, and I ended up having five wet nights in two weeks. After the last of those, Kathy sat me down in the morning. "Dave, this… um… problem you've been having is not getting better. I think you should see somebody about it." The thought of telling my doctor and friend, George Simmons, that I was wetting the bed filled me with dread. "That's not really necessary. I'm sure it will stop on its own. It's not that big a deal." "Says the man who's not washing the sheets. You're right. It may be nothing serious, but then again it might be. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of being woken up in the middle of the night and having to clean up after you. Get on that phone and make an appointment, or I'll do it for you." "Alright, alright, I'll call." I was greatly relieved when George's office told me they couldn't fit me in for at least two weeks. I begged off making an appointment, telling them that I was just feeling a little under the weather, and it would probably pass before they could see me. Kathy was not happy but understood it was not my fault, and she let the matter drop. Or so I thought. That afternoon, I got a call from her telling me to meet her at Dr. MacPherson's office at 4:30. Having to tell my boss I needed to leave early while avoiding the reason was not a pleasant conversation to say the least. I was happy just to get out of there when the time came. At least, I was until I was on the way and started thinking about what was going to happen at the appointment. Margaret MacPherson had been my doctor growing up. Her general practice had served all my family, and Kathy became her patient shortly after we were married. After college, when I had some voice in the matter, I insisted that seeing a female doctor was uncomfortable, and that's when I came under George's care. I was not looking forward to going back to her. Dr. MacPherson—I never could bring myself to call her anything else—literally knew me inside and out. She had seen me through all my childhood illnesses, broken bones, acne, and everything else. To me, she would always be Dr. MacPherson. Kathy, on the other hand, having come to her later in life, always call her Margaret. They had become fast friends, and Dr. MacPherson was almost a surrogate mother to Kathy. Kathy and I were called back shortly after I arrived. We were shown into a room where Dr. MacPherson was waiting for us. "Kathy, how wonderful to see you! And Davey, just look at you, so grown up!" With her rosy cheeks, halo of white hair, and the soft Glasgow burr that never left her, it was impossible to be upset by her comment. She was everybody's favorite grandmother. "Hello, Dr. MacPherson. It's nice to see you again." "And you too, dear. How is your mother? I miss seeing her since she moved away." "She's well, thank you. I'll tell her you were asking after her." "Oh, yes, do. So, what brings you in today?" I sat there trying to think of some way to tell her why I was there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. Still, no words would come out. Finally, Kathy just took over. "Davey," she said, using the same boyhood nickname, "has been having some problems keeping the bed dry at night." There it was, right out on the table. "Oh! Is your wee problem back, dear?" the doctor asked gently. She placed her hand on top of mine reassuringly but couldn't avoid a small titter at her unintended pun. I'm sure Kathy had thought she was trying to be discrete about the issue, but it felt more like a mother trying to be gentle about a child's potty-training setbacks. My mother had used almost those same words many years before. "Back?" Kathy asked. "Oh my, yes, dear," she said without regard for my embarrassment. "Davey was quite the little waterworks when he was a boy, weren't you, Davey. I wondered for a long time if we would ever get him out of nappies." It finally dawned on her that this was extremely uncomfortable for me. I am sure that my face was bright red. I could feel heat radiating from the blush. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it dear? What seems to be the problem?" Without hesitation, Kathy began describing my symptoms as if I weren't in the room or too small to speak for myself. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. He's constantly tossing and turning, and he's always still tired when he wakes up. He's been distant and irritable, and every few days, he wets the bed." "Oh, I'm so sorry. What seems to be the problem, Davey? Is something bothering you?" With some prompting and a great deal of prodding, I told the whole story about what was going on at work. Kathy knew or guessed some of it, but I did not want to let on just how bad it really was. Once they got me to open up, it all came pouring out. The exhaustion and that day's fight with the boss caught up with me, and I was sobbing by the time I finished the tale. I was calming down before I realized Kathy had pulled my head to her shoulder, and she was stroking my hair and shushing me gently. Dr. MacPherson's face was a mix of sympathy and anger. "It's just like that teacher you had all over again. Och, that woman! I'd still like to get my hands on her." She told the story of Mrs. Hannity, my fourth-grade teacher. She was nearing retirement and had a grandson who was a spoiled rotten little hellion. I had the misfortune of bearing him a striking resemblance, and she took out all complaints about him on me. I resented her accusations but came to half-believe that I was as bad as she made out. I fell into depressed and listless state, and my grades suffered. My mother asked me what was wrong, and I tried to tell her about my issues with the teacher and how unfair she was. My mother, of course, took the teacher's side and told me I had to stop being lazy and work harder, which is one of the things Mrs. Hannity accused me of. It all came to a head one day when I turned in a half-completed homework assignment. I had fallen asleep over the paper and didn't have time to finish it before school. Mrs. Hannity went on a tirade the likes of which I had never seen, not only about the homework but about the messy state of my desk and anything else she could think of. When she dumped my desk over onto the floor, I was so shocked and scared, I wet my pants. That stopped her ranting but infuriated her all the more. She went silent and the color rose in her face. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the office. She told them she would not suffer a baby like me in her class. I sobbed and sobbed while the secretary called my mother. I was still in tears, shivering in my wet pants when she arrived. The ride home was no better, as she went on and on about how ashamed she was to have a boy my age wetting his pants in school, how I was going to have to apologize to everyone involved, and how was she ever going to be able to show her face again. I ran into the house, crying my eyes out. I stripped out of my wet clothes and threw myself on my bed and bawled my eyes out. It was all so unfair. I must have cried myself to sleep, because my mother was gently trying to rouse me. She appeared considerably calmer and asked me what had happened. I told her the whole story in lurid detail. The more I told her, the angrier she got but not at me. She took me in her arms and told me how sorry she was. When we had both settled down, she told me to wash up and get dressed. We were going back to the school. I begged her not to make me go. She told me not to worry about it, I would not have to be in Mrs. Hannity's class ever again, if she had anything to say about it. I followed with great reluctance as she strode into the office. "I want to see the principal. Now!" I had never seen my mother so forceful, not with adults anyway. I don't think the secretary had either, because we were shown into Mr. Mellon's office almost immediately. My mother really gave him an earful about all that had gone on. I was mostly ignored except to fill in some blanks and details. Mr. Mellon promised an investigation and said I'd be put into Miss Sanderson's class for the duration. For the year, my mother insisted and got her way. I don't know the full extent of what happened. I did have to tell the story one more time to some people I didn't know. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hannity "got sick," and we heard she was taking an early retirement. I felt and did better in Miss Sanderson's class. I think I even developed a little crush on her. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. From the day of the incident until a long time after, I had nightmares about it and started wetting the bed. Today, we would call it post-traumatic stress disorder, but not back then, especially not with children. My mother was patient for a time, but it was short-lived. She took me to Dr. MacPherson, who recognized the problem and was sympathetic to both of us and assured us it would pass in time. There was little she could do, however, and her only recommendation was "night nappies," as she put it, until I got over it. Despite my protests and promises not to let it happen again, my mother agreed there was no other option. She insisted that she was as embarrassed about it as I was, but I didn't think that was possible. That was the first of many nights my mother put me in a diaper. It did not come without an argument and a couple of slaps on my behind. The nightmares eventually stopped but the wetting didn't. I was in middle school before I was reliably dry, and the diapers were a thing of the past. Nevertheless, my mother kept a waterproof cover on my bed through high school, "just in case." Now, here I was again, facing the same problem for much the same reasons. Dr. MacPherson was again sympathetic and reassuring, but her solution was the same. She prescribed some antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but until I could deal with the stressors, I could expect more wet nights. The best thing was to start wearing nappies to keep the bed dry and allow us both a decent night's sleep. She recommended we get them from a medical supply store, as the ones to be found in supermarkets and pharmacies were virtually useless. She recommended a shop that could also fill my prescriptions. "Don't worry, dear," she comforted me. "I'm sure you'll get over it, and you'll be all dry in no time, just like before." Knowing how long that "before" lasted, I was not reassured. Kathy thanked Dr. MacPherson for both of us and promised to call her to have lunch soon. Dr. MacPherson bade us goodbye and made me promise to send her regards to my mother. Kathy drove us to the medical store. I begged her not to make me wear diapers. It was like reliving the argument with my mother all those years ago. Kathy would have none of it and insisted I go inside with her. There, she handed over the prescription and proceeded to ask the lady about "nighttime protection." She lady asked a lot of, to my mind, unnecessary and intrusive questions. Kathy went into lurid detail about the problems I was having and how heavily I wet. She insisted we should buy a whole case of their most absorbent product, saying she would take back any unopened packages if things cleared up in a short time, but the case lot was far more economical if the problem persisted. Kathy agreed, and I had to carry a huge box of all too conspicuously labeled "adult briefs" to the car. I took up the argument again at bedtime. It was just like been ten years old all over again, me begging and promising not to wet anymore, Kathy reasoning that I couldn't make that promise, and she wanted a good night's sleep. It all got rather heated until Kathy gave me a couple of swats on the behind and told me that was enough. I was again the little boy at the mercy of his mother. I lay down and let her put the dreaded thing on. Memories flooded back as she raised the thick padding between my legs. I was weeping when she fastened the last tape and gave the front a pat. I lay awake for a time, feeling sorry for myself, but the drugs kicked in, and I soon drifted off. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares again, mixed up visions of my boss and Mrs. Hannity. I panicked when Kathy shook me awake. I quickly felt for the felt for the wet spot and blurted out that I didn't wet the bed. Kathy told it was just time to get up, and I realized there was sunlight coming in the window. I was relieved until Kathy gave my crotch a squeeze. We both knew in an instant that I had not had a dry night. Not dry at all, I realized when I stood, and the diaper sagged between my legs. It was with a good deal of depression that I took it off and had my shower, and I still had work to look forward to. It was hard to think of anything else that day, and my boss was no better than usual. The only thing that got me through was the thought that I would be leaving for vacation that afternoon. I had used some accumulated sick time to take the extra half-day off for the drive to Sharon's house. I was happy to leave the office and my boss behind. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off. Soon enough, I felt Kathy climb in next to me. She curled up against my back, and I felt her hand work around to the front. She squeezed my crotch, and I thought she was up to something good. Then I heard her whisper. "You'll last till morning." Whereupon, she rolled over. I was too much asleep to fully comprehend what she meant. There must have been a part of me that did understand, as I slept fitfully after that. I have vague recollections of dreams wherein I was being scolded by my mother for wetting my pants… again. When I felt Kathy shaking me awake, I didn't feel much more rested than when I went to sleep. To top it off, my head was pounding. "Good thing we put that on you. I hope that satisfies you that I know what I'm doing, and we won't have a problem again tonight." I felt the squish when I rolled over, as well as a pounding in my skull. I couldn't bear to look at her, but I managed to mumble a dejected, "No." She reached down and undid the tapes. I tried to help, but she just swatted my hands away. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better. There's coffee waiting when you're done." She handed me my pajama pants, and I took her up on her advice. The shower did help. I felt almost human when I got out. If only that guy would lay off the drums. Not ready for the rigors of getting dressed, I returned to my pajamas and a robe and went downstairs. Coffee, lots of it, finished the job. By the time I had had something to eat, I was moderately ready to face the day. "Okay," Kathy said. "Get dressed. We're going shopping." I groaned, showing none of the enthusiasm she had. "Shopping? Really? Do I have to go? I'm still tired, and my head hurts." I admit it. I was whining. "Yes, you have to go. You're not going to just waste the day or get into who knows what kind of trouble. Besides, it's your own fault your head hurts. Now, upstairs; scoot." "You know," Sharon intervened. "He does still look a little green behind the gills." That made me like Sharon a little more. Kathy looked me over. "Hmm, maybe. We'll discuss it while he gets dressed. Let's go." Kathy shut the bedroom door, and I turned to her. "Don't make me go. You know I'll be useless and bored, and I really don't feel all that well." "You do look a little under the weather," she conceded. "Though I don't know why you should be rewarded for tying one on last night." "It's not a reward. Trust me, I'm being punished for last night. Please let me stay here. You two will have a lot more fun without me." "You're probably right at that. But I'm not so sure about leaving you here alone. If you're as tired as you say you are, you'll probably take a nap, and that risks Sharon's furniture. No, you'll just have to come along." "Please, honey, I'll stay awake, I promise. Besides, I never have problems during the day." "That's because you don't sleep in the day. I think it's best you come along." "Aww! Please don't make me. Nothing will happen; I promise." I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. "Well," she considered, "I suppose there might be one way." "Yes! Yes! Whatever you say. Just don't make me go with you." "You're sure now? It really means that much for you to stay here?" "Yes! Absolutely. I'll do it." "Alright, but you insisted. There's no turning back now. Go potty, and we'll get your diaper on." "What!" "That's the deal. You said you are too tired to go, and I can't trust you to stay awake or not wet in your sleep. If you stay home, I want you in a diaper. That way I can feel safe if you do take a nap." "But I said I'd stay awake. I have work I can do. That'll keep me awake." "We're on vacation. You shouldn't be working. Besides, we both know how well you stay on task without someone to watch you. No, diapers or shopping; it's your choice." I was torn. It was bad enough having to wear them at night, but at least I could ignore them then. On the other hand, department stores, fitting rooms, girl talk. "Fine. You win." And I went across to the bathroom. The diaper was already laid out when I got back. Condemned to my fate, I took off my clothes and lay down. Kathy efficiently diapered me. "Wait a second. What if I have to pee?" "That should be obvious." "But I'll be awake." "This was your idea." "It was not my idea! It was yours." "Alright, maybe the idea was, but it was your choice, and it's been made. We're not wasting that diaper, just because you didn't think it through." She appeared to be thinking of something. She reached in her purse and pulled out a marker. Before I knew what she was up to, she was marking her initials over the intersections of the tapes and the plastic. "That'll make sure you don't try taking it off as soon as I'm out the door. If you do, I'll know, and you'll get that spanking, Sharon or no Sharon." She got thoughtful again, and then she threw me for a loop. She pulled out another diaper. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked, shocked. "I'm going to double diaper you. I don't know how long we'll be out, and I can't take a chance of your leaking. The two should hold all your peepees. Up." It was obvious I was not going to win here. I let her put it on me. She used her long fingernails to poke a few holes in the inner one before taping up the outer. She repeated the trick with the marker. She gave the whole package as couple of satisfied pats. "There, all snug and safe and ready for your day. Now, since you claim you are not feeling well, I expect you to take it easy. Nap if you can. I want you feeling better, so we can do things together the rest of our stay." "Okay," I sighed. "Don't take that tone. You got what you wanted." I hadn't but didn't argue the point. "Get dressed and come say goodbye to Sharon and me." Kathy left the room, and I stood up to dress. The bulk between my legs was incredible. A bowlegged waddle was all I could manage. I tried to put on some khakis, but it wasn't happening. I resigned myself to putting my pajamas back on and threw on my robe. Stairs aren't easy when you can't put your knees together. I had to take them one at a time, and each one was accompanied by a distinct rustling I really hoped only I could hear. I stood as still as I could by the door and let the ladies come to me for a quick kiss and hug goodbye. Kathy surreptitiously patted my bottom and told me to be a good boy. I'm sure I jumped. I only hoped Sharon didn't notice, but her smile didn't make me optimistic. I watched them drive away and wondered what I was going to do with myself. It was difficult to walk normally, and the crinkling, exceptionally loud to my ears, was distracting. I did have some work I could do, but I wasn't enthused by the prospect. I got out my laptop anyway and set up at the kitchen table. After getting a cup of coffee and checking my email, all junk, I opened my work project. I stared at it for fifteen minutes or so before closing it down again. I was on vacation and in no mood to work. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything. The double thick diaper kept me focused on my problems and my plight. I figured, or hoped anyway, that I was not alone. Surely there were other men this happened to. Maybe there was some advice on how to handle the situation, preferably advice that did not rely on diapers. If I could show Kathy some alternative, maybe she would relent. The internet was not coming to my rescue. Oh, there was some consolation in finding out that I was not the only adult who experienced bedwetting problems. Most of the information indicated that they were stress related and would eventually pass along with the stressors. There were other causes that were, quite frankly, kind of scary. I would have to consider seeing a doctor. Not my regular doctor. I thought I would die if I had to tell George about this problem. The shock for me, though, was not the number of people who had the problem but the number who seemed to revel in it and the number who didn't have it but wanted to. The number of stories, true, fictional, or mixed, was staggering. Most seemed to be fantasy, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferer's wife, girlfriend or mother enforcing the use of diapers was frightening. Apparently, I was not alone, either in diapers or in being spanked. At least some of the stories had to contain some truth. While I was reading, my morning coffee was catching up with me. I made a vow that I would wait it out and show Kathy my wearing diapers was ridiculous, at least during the day. I was not quite so confident about nighttime. Unfortunately, the amount of coffee I drink, and the effects it has on my bladder, made me doubt my resolve pretty quickly. I held on for as long as I could, but after a couple of painful spasms and a look at how little time had gone by, I knew I couldn't take it. The flood that followed was mind-blowing. As hard as it is to admit, the relief, after fighting the urge for so long, was almost orgasmic. That is until the reality of the situation began to sink in. I was sitting there in a soaking wet diaper, a grown man wallowing in his own pee. I could feel the wetness all around me, and I was sure that I had to have leaked. I stood up and checked the chair, bone dry. I checked out the diaper as best I could. Except for a few small spots between my legs, where I remembered Kathy poking holes, it showed no sign of what I did. I felt disgusted with myself but relieved I hadn't flooded the kitchen. Under Kathy's implicit threat and my explicit promise, I knew I was stuck in this situation until they got back. I could only hope it wouldn't be too long and that Kathy would give me some warning of their return. It was going to be bad enough facing her, having wet myself. The idea that Sharon might notice was unthinkable. Having no way out of my predicament without making Kathy more mad at me, I went back to my research. I decided to concentrate on how people like me felt about the situation. "People like me," there was a strange thought. Only hours before, I would have considered identifying a community of adults in diapers crazy. As expected, I found embarrassment, depression, and a fair amount of self-loathing. I did not expect to find so many people who gave every impression that they enjoyed being in diapers. I certainly never expected to find that group that referred to themselves as Adult Babies, people who actively sought out the opportunity to relive the experience of being toddlers or even younger. I found the pictures rather disconcerting. Was that where I was headed? It was inevitable that I would have to pee again while I surfed away. The need was less pronounced, and the hour was getting later. Again, I tried to hold off. I hadn't lasted very long when the other effect coffee has started to hit me. I was not going to give into that one, but holding that back made the pressure on my bladder worse. Eventually, it came down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. I was already wet, so the decision to wet some more was not difficult. The feeling was not as intense as before, but I did feel a lot better, and the other urge seemed to abate. I was hungry now, and made myself some lunch, just a quick sandwich and some juice. More coffee seemed like a bad idea. Eating took my mind off my troubles for the moment. It also made me sleepy. I felt that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all and went upstairs to lie down. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was, as I was rather disoriented when I heard Sharon's bright announcement that they were home. I rolled over with a squish. I knew without looking that I had wet in my sleep, and the diaper was considerably fuller than when I came upstairs. I also realized my other problem was coming back with a vengeance. There was a deep rumble in my gut that would need attention and soon. I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and figure out what to do when I heard footsteps on the staircase. That made me panic, which didn't help my situation any. The door swung open, and there was Kathy, thankfully alone. "What's the matter," she asked, concerned. "I… uh… hi," I said. "You must have needed that nap," she said, walking over to the bed. "Any problems while we were gone?" "Um… no… not really. Now that your home can I take this… thing off?" "Yes, I think so. Just let me make sure you were a good boy and didn't mess with it." Before I could stop her, she had the covers pulled back. I made a grab for my pajama bottoms, but she sharply slapped my hands. She wrestled the pants down while I begged her not to. "Oh my god! It's a good thing I put you in two. You're soaked." "Uh… yeah… you were gone a long time. Now please let me take this off. I have to go." "I can't imagine you have anything left in you." "Not that, the other." "Oh! Does my little boy have to go poopy?" she asked with a little too much relish. "Please, Kathy. This is hard enough." "Aww. Is it hard to hold it? Do you want to make a boom-boom in your diaper?" "Kathy, enough. Just let me up." I was getting desperate. "Don't get snippy with me, Mr. Soggybottom. Go on, if you have to go so bad." She got out of the way, and I leapt from the bed. I made for the bathroom and fell flat on my face. My pants were still around mid-thigh. The fall distracted me, and I pooped a little. Please don't let it smell, I hoped. Kathy was at my side in a second, helping me to my feet. She pulled up my pants and gave my bottom a pat. I started for the door. "Not so fast. Come back here." "Kathy, I really need to…" "Here. Now," she said, pointing at the floor in front of her. I clenched my cheeks and went to the spot. "Turn around." I knew arguing about it was not going to get me anywhere. I did as I was told and hoped against hope that what I knew was coming wouldn't. It did. She pulled back the waistbands of my pajamas and diapers and looked down the back. "I don't believe it. You did. You filthy little boy." She grabbed my ear and started dragging me toward the bathroom. That painful shock and sudden unbalance caused me to drop more into the seat of my pants. I felt sick. Kathy slammed the bathroom door behind us. "Really? Really? You actually pooped your pants. Unbelievable. What have you got to say for yourself?" I tried to come up with an explanation. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. Kathy gave an exasperated sigh. "Get those pajamas off." I did and turned to put them on a hook. "Did you go more?" She felt the back of my pants. "You did, didn't you? I can't believe you. Lie down." I squatted down slowly, trying to minimize the additional mess this was going to make. "Is everything alright in there?" Sharon was at the door! In that position, it was all too much for me. Whatever was left in my bladder and bowels found its way into my pants. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. "Yes, I guess so," Kathy sighed. "Just a little emergency we need to take care of." "Nothing serious, I hope." "Nothing a bath won't fix." "A bath?" Silence. "Oh. Well, never mind. Come down when you're ready. I'll start dinner." "Alright, stinker. Let's get you cleaned up." She started the bath running. That's when tears started. Thoroughly ashamed, I lay down and let Kathy untape the diapers. "Oh, God!" she choked. "Why did you do that in your pants? Why didn't you just take it off?" "You told me I couldn't!" "I know did, but I didn't mean you should…" She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "Okay. I guess this is partly my fault. I could have thought it through better and been clearer with you, but only partly. You're having some difficulties with your bladder, and I understand the reasons for that. It's okay. I just put you in a diaper to protect you and Sharon's furniture. But you are certainly old enough to know you shouldn't poop your pants, no matter what I said. I can't believe you did that." She sighed and dumped the poop in the toilet. "Just get in the shower. I'm getting a headache and can't talk about this now." I got in and let the stink and humiliation wash off of me. Clean and smelling better, I was feeling somewhat better when I got out. Then I noticed the diapers were gone. What had Kathy done with them? I didn't know what I would have done with them, but they had to go somewhere. What if Sharon saw them? My head was spinning, and my heart was pounding when I got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon didn't say anything when I entered the kitchen, but her sympathetic smile was all I needed to know the cat was out of the bag. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled hello and took a seat at the table. I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Despite knowing a diaper was in my future, I was almost looking forward to going to bed. When Kathy suggested I take my meds and make an early night of it, I had no objections. "Meds? Are you sick, Dave?" "No," Kathy explained for me. "Dave's been really stressed out at work, and the doctor just gave him something to get over the hump." "Oh, is that why he's…" She stopped short. "Well, I just hope you start feeling better real soon." "Thanks. Goodnight." I went upstairs with Kathy close behind. She closed the door behind us, and I turned on her. "How could you tell her?" I said sharply, keeping my voice low. "How could I not? I had to get rid of that diaper, and she was right there. There was no avoiding it." "But she… How can I face… I can't…" My frustration mounted as I tried to speak. Grasping for words, my emotions got the best of me, and my eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home." I sank down on the bed and cried. With my face in my hands, I sobbed, "Why? Why? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I just want to die." Kathy grabbed my head and forced me to look at her. "Don't you ever say that! I love you. I don't want to live without you. You are not to even think like that, do you understand me? If you ever say anything like that again, I swear, I'll spank you so hard…" She sat down and took me in her arms. She was crying too. "We'll get through this, together. Just don't ever think about leaving me like that. I love you so much." We sat like that for a long time, holding each other and letting it all out. I was drained and hardly noticed when Kathy began to undress me. Filled with love for her, I started to caress her. "No, honey. I think we are both too tired for that tonight. Let's get your diaper on. It's been a rough day all around." Disappointed but with no strength to object, I let her dress me. She got me a glass of water to take my meds, and she tucked me into bed. She held me until I went to sleep. I don't remember her leaving, but I sort of noticed her getting back in. I rolled over and snuggled close to her. I was wet again the next morning but felt more rested. I was alone. There was a stack of clothes on the bed with a plastic bag and a note on top. "Get dressed and come downstairs. You can put your diaper in the bag and bring that with you." I put the wet diaper in the bag, had a quick wash and got dressed. I wasn't looking forward to carrying the object of my shame downstairs, but I and it couldn't stay there forever. Sharon and Kathy were having coffee in the kitchen. I tried to dispose of the package as discretely as possible, but I think I only managed to draw more attention to myself. "Honey, sit down. We need to talk about something." Here we go, I thought. This wasn't going to be good. Sharon brought me a cup of coffee. That helped some. "Sweetheart, I know you are really uncomfortable about all this, but I think we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. We are all aware that you are going to have to wear diapers to bed for a while. There, I said it. Diapers, diapers, diapers. Pretending that you don't is making us all uncomfortable. Sharon understands, and so do I. It's not your fault; it's just the way things are right now. Your trying to hide from the fact is just creating more stress you don't need. So, as of now, we are going to stop walking on eggshells and simply accept your diapers as a fact of life. Among ourselves, we'll speak openly about them if needed, and we won't make a big deal about disposing of them. That will save us all a lot of worry and trouble." I just stared into my coffee cup. I did not want to look at anyone, especially Sharon. I was fine pretending. Having to acknowledge the problem to someone else was not something I wanted to do. "It's okay, Dave," Sharon said. "I know the pressure you are under, and I understand how you feel." "How could you?" "I see this all the time in my work. People come in all the time feeling overwhelmed by it all. They feel the whole world wants something of them they can't give. They feel powerless to change the situation or fight back. They react in all kinds of ways. All too many of them turn to drugs or alcohol, and that only makes things worse. All things considered, a little thing like bedwetting is not so bad." "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to wear…" "Diapers. You can say it. You're not weak or lazy or whatever else you are telling yourself to bring you down. It's a stress reaction, nothing more. From what Kathy tells me about your boss, I'm proud of you for not turning to something self-destructive. You just need to find a way to deal with the stress, to let it go, to feel empowered. You feel helpless, and I'm sure you think the diapers prove it. On the contrary, by wearing them, you are taking control of the situation by the best means possible. By wearing them, you're getting rest; Kathy's getting rest; the bed is staying clean and dry. The way I figure it, you've taken a big first step in getting better." "Thanks, I guess." I didn't really feel any better. "Dave," Kathy said, "I think there's something else you should consider. There's no rush, especially as we are on vacation; so, take as much time as you need. I think you should really think about quitting your job." "I can't just quit." "Not so fast, hear me out. Your boss is a bully. I'm sure he'll be found out eventually, but in the meantime, your life there is going to be miserable. I don't think you can really get better, if you stay there. You might learn to live with it, but at what cost? We've been doing alright. We don't actually need both our salaries. With a little bit of trimming, we can live on what I make. If it takes you a while to find something else, we'll make do. And I bet you could always get some work on a consulting basis. I'm not saying you have to quit, but it's an option, and you'll have my support. Just think it over." "I can't just let you support me," I protested. "You'd support me, if I had to quit, wouldn't you?" "That's different." "Why? Because you're a man? Look at the calendar. It's not the 1950s anymore. We're partners. We support each other, no matter what. If you never took another job and just stayed home and took care of the house, you'd still be supporting me. That's what we do. We have each other's back." "But I'd feel so…" "For a while, maybe," Sharon interjected, "but you'll get over that. I had a patient who went through much the same thing. He felt bad about it for a while, but once he got used to it, he loved being a househusband. He felt like he was making a real contribution. He was able to do things he never had time for. He makes a little money on the side from his hobbies. He's very happy. He says some of his friends tell him in private that they envy him." "I don't know…" "Just think about it. Take all the time you need," Kathy said. "A day, a week, a month, whatever you need, but think about it seriously. I think it would be good for you, but it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you, but please, please, do consider it." "Alright," I said, as much to end the conversation as anything. "Good, it's settled." I didn't think it was settled at all but let it go. "Now, Sharon tells me there's an exhibition downtown that's right up your alley. Finish your coffee, and let's go." The exhibition was as good as advertised. I don't know about the girls, but I had a good time. Model trains aren't everybody's cup of tea. Kathy knew my fascination, even though I hadn't had a set since I was a kid. I think she was bored after the first ten minutes, but she let me have the run of the place to gawk over them. She and Sharon feigned interest when I explained all about the different scales and old rail lines. They smiled and nodded, and then let me run off to the next display while they hung about to talk. The rest of week was taken up with various activities. Some I enjoyed more than others, none as much as the trains. It was all a good distraction from my troubles and had me worn out by evening. Between the activity and the meds, I was getting some much-needed rest. When I woke up dry on Friday morning, I thought I was turning a corner. Kathy praised me, which actually made me feel a little worse, but I took it in the spirit it was intended and didn't say anything. That night, it was decided, we would stay in for movies and margaritas. I took it easy, because I didn't know how the alcohol would react with my meds. Kathy made up for it, drinking the rest of my share as well as her own. She was pretty toasted by the end of the evening. She knocked over her glass and cut here finger picking up broken pieces. I thought we might have to take her to the emergency room, but we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. "Geez, that hurts," she slurred. "Um, Sharon? I'm not sure I can take care of Davey like this. Would you mind?" "What!" Sharon and I said in unison. "This really hurts, and I'm not sure I can work the tapes." "I can do it myself." "I don't know that you can, and neither do you. You've never done it before, and it has to be harder to put one on yourself than someone else. I don't want you leaking all over the place by putting it on wrong, and I'm sure Sharon doesn't either." I looked to Sharon for support, but she had an amused grin on her face. She was actually warming to the idea. "You're right, Kathy. A diaper isn't much good if it leaks all over. Sure, I'll help out. I'm sure Davey won't mind." "But…" "It's not like she hasn't seen one before," Kathy said, anticipating my protest. "And it's just this one time. I'll be better tomorrow. You two go on upstairs. I'll clean up down here." "Just put everything in the sink. You shouldn't get that finger wet. Come on, Davey. Auntie Sharon will get you ready for night-night." "That's right," Kathy laughed. "You be a good boy for Auntie Sharon." I didn't like being treated like a little boy, but I wrote it off to their inebriation. I took Sharon's outstretched hand and followed her upstairs. She went right to work getting a diaper laid out for me. I stood there unsure I could go through with it. "Take off your pants, silly. We can't do anything with those on. Here, let Auntie help." Before I could react, she was undoing my pants and pushing them down. "Why, Davey! I'm flattered, but what would your mommy say?" I was deeply embarrassed by my tumescent state, but her reaction to it only made it worse. I started to apologize, but Sharon cut me off. "Don't worry about it. Little boys are always doing that when they get their diapers changed. Now, let's get those clothes off, so we can get you all wrapped up. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Sharon was obviously more drunk than I thought. I hoped she, at least, wouldn't remember this in the morning. I told myself to just get through it, and finished undressing. I lay down on the open diaper and looked away, waiting for this to be over. "Oh, it looks like baby is getting a bit of a rash, I'd better get some powder for that." She started to leave but turned right around folded the front of the diaper up over me. "Just in case. You never know with boys." She was gone for a few minutes, which was enough for me to subside a little. She had just walked in the door when we heard a thud on the stairs. "Whoopsies," we heard between giggles. "You alright out there?" Sharon asked. "Yeah, fine. Be right up." There was another, smaller thump followed by more giggles. "Right up." Sharon shook her head, smiling, and got back to work. She drew back the diaper and sprinkled the powder, quite a lot in my opinion. That brought me back to my previous state. She started to smooth it, and I whimpered. Kathy chose that moment to walk in the door. "Davey, you naughty boy! I should spank you for that." "Don't spank him. He just a little sweet on his Auntie Sharon, aren't you, baby? Besides, you know how boys are. Remember when we used to babysit my cousins?" "Yes," Kathy laughed. "Roger especially. Did he get that from his father? Your aunt is a lucky woman." "So she says." All this talk was not helping my situation, neither was the fact that Sharon was still rubbing in the powder. Kathy sat down next to me. "Is that true, baby? Do you have a little crush on Auntie Sharon? Do you like it when she rubs you down there? Oops! I guess you do!" "Oh, dear. I guess we'll have to start over. I'll go get a washcloth." Sharon went to the bathroom, while I wished I could have died right there. "I guess wearing diapers has an upside after all," Kathy giggled. I just hoped she would feel the same way when she was sober. Sharon returned with a wet washcloth and with much greater efficiency, had me cleaned up, powdered and diapered in no time. I got up to put on my pajamas and take my meds. Kathy was lying back and moaning a little. "What about you, girlfriend? Are you going to be alright, or does Auntie Sharon need to put a diaper on you too? You don't look so good." "No. I'm a big girl," Kathy slurred. "Okay, but if you're wet in the morning, you'll be the one getting the spanking." That image had me stirring again. I helped Sharon undress Kathy and get her into the bed. Sharon kissed my cheek and told me not to worry. We were all friends and more than a little drunk. I knew that wasn't true of me but recognized it was her way of saying the episode was nothing more than a little harmless fun. We said goodnight, and I climbed in next to Kathy. I don't know if my dreams were more disturbing or exciting. I do know I wasn't anxious for them to end. I had visions of Kathy squirming across Sharon's lap when I realized those sounds weren't in my head. I turned to see Kathy gone and a good size wet spot in her place. I stumbled across the hall to find my dream a reality. Kathy was sprawled face down across Sharon's lap, pleading with Sharon to stop. Her obviously wet panties lay at her feet. "I told you, you should have worn a diaper last night," Sharon said as she landed a slap to Kathy's already glowing behind. "Remember those parties in college. You should know better than to drink that much." I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. Sharon took notice of my presence. "Good morning, Davey. You see what happens to little girls who don't listen to Auntie?" "Oh no! Dave! Go away. Please." "Quiet," Sharon said with another slap. "And don't think it can't happen to little boys either. Well, young lady, have you learned your lesson yet?" "Yes. Yes!" "Alright, go get cleaned up, and bring those sheets down to be washed." Kathy scrambled off Sharon's lap and fairly ran from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I could hear her sniffling in the bathroom. "You clean up too," Sharon instructed. "I'll start breakfast." That brought my attention to the diaper hanging low on my hips. I wasn't making as much progress as I had thought. I passed Kathy in the bathroom door. She still wouldn't look at me. She must have worked fast, because by the time I was clean and fresh, the bed was stripped, and she was nowhere in sight. I got dressed and found her in the kitchen helping with breakfast. She gave me a sheepish "good morning." I hugged her and gave her a kiss that was far more than perfunctory. That seemed to brighten her spirits. We all sat down to breakfast as if nothing had happened. I really wanted to know more about what I saw this morning but figured that wasn't the time to ask. It would keep and was probably none of my business anyway. We tidied up the dishes slowly, none of us wishing the visit to end. It was with no small amount of sadness that Kathy and I packed our things and said our goodbyes. We all promised to not wait so long till the next time, and for a change, I meant it. Despite the diapers and the embarrassment that went with them, I had a really good time. We drove in silence for quite some time. I was lost in my thoughts. There was a lot that happened that week and a lot to think about. Mostly though, I thought about what I had witnessed that morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Kathy? Remember what you said about elephants in the room?" "Yes," she sighed. "What happened this morning?" It took her a long time to answer. She tried to get me to drop it, but I kept bringing it back up. "You're not going to let this go, are you? Alright, fine." You know Sharon was my sorority sister, right? Well, she was actually my big sister, a sophomore assigned to show a pledge the ropes and generally look after her. One of the things she did for me was to introduce me around. She was really popular and got invited to a lot of parties, and because she did, I did. It was at one of those parties that I got introduced to alcohol. I never drank in high school, and I avoided it the first couple of parties I went to. But it had been a rough week, and I gave in when somebody stuck a cup in my hand. At first, I didn't realize there was alcohol in it. It just seemed like a really sweet punch with a funny aftertaste. I was well into my second one before I knew I was getting buzzed. It felt good. I wanted more. I kept drinking. About the time I felt like I might have had too much, Sharon found me. She told me it was time to go back to the house. I don't think I would have made it without her. I'm sure I threw up at least once on the way. I don't really remember getting back to the house and her dumping me on the bed. I do remember waking up the next morning. Sharon was shaking my leg, telling me to get up. I never knew sunlight could be so painful. It tasted like something died in my mouth, and somebody was beating my head with a hammer. I begged Sharon to let me die in peace. Instead, she pulled off my blankets. I was suddenly very cold. "Oh, geez. Get up. We need to get this stuff in the wash." "Huh?" "Get up. You peed the bed." "What?" "You peed the bed. Get up." "Oh my god. No!" I started bawling. "Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. Half the girls here did the same thing the first time they got drunk." "You?" "Me? No." "Great," I said dejectedly. "Listen, get yourself cleaned up, take some aspirin, have some coffee and toast, and then we can talk about it. Okay?" "Okay." The shower made me feel a little better. I hadn't really learned to drink coffee yet, but the toast helped some. I found Sharon back in my room. She had stripped the bed for me and turned my fan toward the mattress. I had found the rubberized fabric of the mattress strange when I first moved in. Now, I understood why the sorority used them. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn't the only one, but I still felt ashamed. Sharon hugged me and told me not to worry about it. I was the first, and I wouldn't be the last. It happens to everyone. "It didn't happen to you." "Okay, maybe not everyone, but I've had my share of nights worshipping the porcelain god." The image of Sharon with her head in the toilet did make me chuckle and a little less embarrassed. "I swear, I'm never going to drink again." "Don't make promises you can't keep. You just have to learn to pace yourself. You have to watch those fruity drinks. They go down really easy, and before you know it, you've already had too many. You don't have to stop drinking if you don't want to. Just be careful." "Alright." I took my wet things down to the laundry room. I couldn't avoid passing some of the other girls. Most gave me sympathetic smiles, a kind of been there done that look. I was careful at the next few parties I went to. I did drink some, but I went slow and never let it get beyond a mild buzz. That ended after midterms. I felt so relieved to have made it over that hurdle, I let myself go. Sharon took me aside and told me I should ease up. I told her I was fine and bumped into a wall. She told me to remember what happened the last time. I waved her off. It was a good thing the party was at the sorority house, or I never would have made it home. As it was, Sharon found me the next morning on the floor of the bathroom. There was vomit in my hair and around the toilet bowl, and I was lying in a puddle of pee. Sharon got me on my feet and into the shower. She didn't bother with my clothes. That first burst of water was a real shock, and I thought my head would explode, and really hope that it would. As the water warmed, I started to feel human again. I got undressed and washed the assorted fluids of me. Sharon was waiting for with a towel. "Thank you," I said, drying off. "I feel awful. Never again." "You said that before. You should feel awful. You were really pounding them last night. You deserve that hangover. But listen, drinking like that isn't good for you; in fact, it's dangerous. Even if the alcohol doesn't kill you, you can do all kinds of crazy things to get hurt or let someone hurt you. And it sure isn't any fun for me, having to clean up after you." "I know. I'm sorry." "Yeah, yeah, save it. You're sorry, because you head hurts. But if you did anything to hurt the house while you were like that, it would be my ass on the line too. I'm responsible for you." "I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Well, just think about it. And think about what would happen if you got in real trouble. What if you got called in front of the dean?" I paled. "Oh my god. My mom would have my butt. I would be able to sit down for a month." "Your mom still spanks you." "Well, she did last year, when I came home an hour after curfew. She might." "Maybe that's what you deserve." Her face was passive. I couldn't tell if she meant it. "You're kidding right?" "Get drunk like that again, and we'll see." I was really good for the rest of the semester. I didn't let myself get more than a little tipsy. I did my work. My grades were good. I felt really good about myself. I had long forgotten that conversation in the shower. The end of term was my undoing. The night after finals, everyone was celebrating, including me. We had a grand old time. I again woke up with a horrible hangout and a wet bed. I was balling up the sheets when Sharon came to check on me. "You did it again, didn't you? I told you to slow down, didn't I? But do you listen? No. 'I'm fine, Sharon.' 'Go away, Sharon.' 'Mind your own business, Sharon.' And look at you now, wet sheets and pissy pants. Remember what I said after midterms?" "What? What are you talking about?" "I told you what would happen if you got this drunk again." I tried to remember, but the pounding in my head made it hard. "I told you deserved spanking then, and you'd get one the next time. This is the next time." "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm very serious." Sharon grabbed my wrist, sat down on the bed and hauled me across her lap. A softball player, she was really strong, far stronger than me. I didn't stand a chance. "Sharon, no!" I screamed, as she whisked my panties down. She didn't say a word as she lit up my ass. I screamed and squirmed and begged, but she didn't let up until I was limp and bawling. She stood me up and held me while I cried myself out. I told her I was sorry, and I really meant it. "It's okay. It's all over now. Just don't let it happen again, or you'll get more of the same." She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. "I love you, Kathy. I want you to be safe." She kissed me, not a kiss, kiss, but more than a peck. Then she left me to take care of my laundry and pack for the holidays. It was a long, thoughtful, and uncomfortable bus ride home. "Wow," was all I could think of. After digesting it for a bit, I couldn't help asking, "Did it ever happen again?" "The idea turns you on, doesn't it? Pervert," she chuckled. "If you must know, it did, but I'm not going into gory details." "What about that kiss? Was there more than that?" Kathy blushed and remained silent. I waited. "Okay, yes, we… experimented, nothing serious. I decided I preferred men… mostly." I filed that away. "What about Sharon?" "She's more of an omnivore," Kathy said smiling. "But that's all you're getting. Have you thought about what we talked about? Your job?" "Some. I haven't made any decisions." "Okay." The rest of the trip was idle chitchat and discussion of things we should do before the weekend was out. Although I had two more wet nights, I returned to work on Monday feeling better… for about ten minutes. That's how long it took for my boss to start in on me. He actually had the gall to berate me for taking the week off, time I had earned. That was the last straw. I spent my lunch hour writing up a formal complaint and delivering it to Human Resources. I told them, if they didn't do something about him, they could have my notice, and if they didn't want that, I'd take the sick and vacation pay I had coming, and they could have their job. The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of meetings and discussions about me and my boss. Some of them got pretty heated. A review of my work showed that I was doing my job and doing it well. In the end, though, I was low man on the totem pole, and it was decided we would all be better off, if I applied my skills elsewhere. I was given a letter of recommendation and promised my back pay would be mailed at the next payroll date. For someone who, for all practical purposes, just got canned, I felt great when I cleaned out my desk. Kathy got concerned when she came home and saw the box with my possessions by the door. "What happened?" "I got fired," I said brightly. "Well, 'mutual separation' is what they wrote down in the file." I gave her a blow by blow description of what happened that day with full color commentary. I may have embellished my part a little. "Dave, I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. I just wish that son of a bitch got what was coming to him." "Not my problem anymore. His file is flagged. He'll get his someday. In the meantime, and for the foreseeable future, you have yourself a little housemaid." "Don't give me ideas. You might look good in a French maid's uniform. I'm just glad you are out of there. Let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner." "Shouldn't we be watching our pennies? I am out of a job now." "We will, but tonight, we celebrate. This is a new beginning." And we did, a great meal, some nice wine, and it didn't end there. We practically ran up to the bedroom, clothes flying as we went. It was the most passionate we had been in quite a while. Afterward, Kathy got me diapered and curled up next to me. "So, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you have all this time on your hands?" "I don't know. I haven't really had a chance to think about it." "You should, you know. Idle hands and all that." "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I hope so. Little boys left on their own can get into all sorts of mischief." She was rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'll be fine." "I hope so. We wouldn't want Mommy to have to spank, would we?" I chuckled. "Would we?" The question wasn't rhetorical. "No." "No, what?" "No… Mommy?" "That's right," she said, rubbing me harder. "You need to be a good boy for Mommy, or Mommy will spank." I moaned, getting my second wind. "Maybe I should get a babysitter to keep you out of trouble. Maybe Auntie Sharon would be available. She could make sure you're a good boy and change you when you are wet. I know you like that. But Auntie Sharon spanks hard; so, you'd better be good." That was it. The diaper came off for round two. I was barely awake when Kathy re-diapered me and kissed me goodnight. The first week as a stay at home husband was great. I cooked, which I enjoyed but never had time for. I did some minor repairs that I had been putting off for a while. I cleaned the house and did the grocery shopping. I didn't enjoy those so much, but they had to be done and weren't as bad as I imagined. Most of all, Kathy was really happy with me and lavished me with praise. The second week was not as good. It was harder to find things to do. Kathy noticed and brought my attention to some things that needed taking care of. By the third week, I was really starting to get bored. Kathy and I were doing some gardening that weekend, when Mrs. Travers, our neighbor across the street, a sweet older lady, came over. I never talked to her much, but she and Kathy were friends. She took Kathy aside, but I couldn't help overhearing their conversation. "I noticed David's been home a lot lately. Is everything alright." "Oh, yes. He's taking some time off, maybe thinking of a second career." "I was just concerned, the economy being the way it is and everything." "No need to worry. We're fine." "Well, if there is anything you need…" "Same here. I'm sure Dave would be happy to help you out, if you need anything." "Well, there are a few odd jobs I need done. I'd pay him, of course." "Nonsense. What are neighbors for? Dave, come here a minute." "Oh, that's all right." "Dave, Travers needs your help. You'll do that, won't you?" "Sure." "What is it you need, Mavis?" "Well, I have a leaky faucet, and the gutters need tending." "No trouble at all Mrs. Travers," I said. "Is tomorrow okay?" "That would be fine, dear, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all. Ten o'clock?" "That sounds fine. Thank you so much." "It's settled then," Kathy said sealing the deal. "He'll be over at ten sharp. You remember to be a good boy for Mrs. Travers, Dave." Mrs. Travers thanked us again but gave us awkward look as she went back to her house. "You didn't need to say that." "I was just having some fun. Can't you take a joke?" I kissed Kathy goodbye the next morning, and she reminded me to be a good boy and be at Mrs. Travers' house at ten. I was there right on time, toolbox and ladder in hand. I decided to start with the gutters, before the day got too hot. They were worse than I imagined, and it took till past noon to get them cleared out. Mrs. Travers insisted on feeding my lunch. The leaky faucet turned out to be a nightmare. It was an old fixture in the guest bath. I don't think anyone had worked on it since before I was born. There was a slow but steady drip that, judging by the calcium deposits on the fixture, had been going on for a long time. It was a chore just turning the shutoff valve and getting the handle off the valve, but when I tried to take out the stem to change the washer, the whole thing snapped. I informed Mrs. Travers and told her I would buy her new hardware. After a bit of an argument, I accepted that she would pay, I insisted on doing the installation. We went to the hardware store together, so she could pick out what she wanted. On the ride she told me all about her children and grandchildren, including the fact that the middle one was still wetting the bed. I set to work on updating the sink. I soon wished that I hadn't offered my assistance. Every nut was frozen. Nothing was easy to reach. The room was so tiny, I couldn't even lie down comfortably to work. As is so often the case with plumbing, I was swearing at it under my breath. Then the wrench slipped. I hit my hand hard against a pipe. I sat up to grab it and bashed my head on the sink. I was loudly cursing a blue streak when Mrs. Travers came to check on me. I was seeing stars and didn't resist when she helped me up. She led me to the kitchen and fixed an icepack for my head. She tended to my wounded hand, applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid. "Sorry, dear, that's all I have. I keep them for the grandkids." The room was still spinning when Kathy came over to check on me. I had no idea it had gotten so late. She gasped when she saw me. "It's just a bump on the head, dear, but I think you'd better take him home. He's had a rough day. I'll just call a plumber to finish." "No. I can do it myself." "David, be quiet. Mavis, I'm sorry he was so much trouble for you." "Oh, no trouble. I've tended to more than one skinned knee and bruised ego. But such language!" "David, apologize to Mrs. Travers, right now." "Sorry." "I'm sorry, Mavis. It won't happen again. But please, don't waste your money on a plumber. David will come back tomorrow and finish the job." She turned to me. "And he will watch his language, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." I meant that for Mrs. Travers, but I don't think either of them took it that way. "Good. I'm sorry. He is usually much better behaved. Please let him come back." "Alright," she said reluctantly. "If it means that much to him. But it's no trouble to get a plumber." "I won't hear of it. David will be back first thing in the morning to finish what he started, and he'll be on his best behavior. If he's not, please tell me. Now, I'd better get him home and put him to bed." I handed back the icepack and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Travers, and thank you for lunch." "It's alright, dear. Get some rest, and you'll feel better in the morning." Kathy took care of the goodbyes, and Mrs. Travers walked us to the door. I hoped she wasn't watching as Kathy gave me an earful crossing the street and landed a couple of hard swats on the seat of my pants. She took me straight upstairs. She got a diaper out and set it on the bed. She got her hairbrush and put it on top. She started undressing me and gave me a real dressing down. "I'm ashamed of you, talking that way in front of a sweet old lady. What were you thinking?" "I'm sorry. I hit my head, and it really hurt." "That's no excuse. You should know better. I have a good mind to wash your mouth out with soap." "You can't do that!" "Try me. If I ever hear something like that again, that's just what I'll do. As for right now, you're getting a good spanking to help you remember." "What? You can't." "You know very well I can. And unless you want me to use your belt on you, you'll get across my lap right now." I remembered the bite of the belt and chose to follow her instructions. She didn't start easy, and she accompanied her task with nonstop scolding. But that was nothing compared to when she started in with the brush. I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs. Travers heard my cries from across the street. When I was bawling, Kathy told me to get up and marched me to the corner. "You stay there and think about what you did." I kept my face wedged in the corner, not wanting to incur any more of her wrath. I could hear her milling about the room, muttering. Then there was silence. "David, why is your underwear wet?" "What!" "You heard me. Why is your underwear wet?" "What? I didn't." She turned me around and held them where I could see. They were clearly damp. "Did you or did you not wet your pants?" "I don't know." "Of course, you know! Look at these!" "I guess, maybe a little. I don't remember. Maybe when I hit my head?" "That's no excuse. You can't go around wetting your pants during the day. It's bad enough you do that at night." "You said you didn't mind." "You know what I mean. But daytime accidents are a different story. Do you need to be in diapers all the time? Do I need to hire a babysitter? Maybe Mrs. Travers would like the job." "I'm sorry," I cried. "It won't happen again." "It had better not, or I'll have to rethink leaving you home alone. Lie down. You're going to bed right now." "I have to go to the bathroom." "Then go. At least, you remember some of your potty training." I lay in bed thinking about what Kathy said. She wouldn't make me wear diapers in the daytime. It was just that I hit my head. But she did it before. That didn't work out well. Seriously, she couldn't really get a babysitter. I didn't know what to think. Between conking myself and what followed, I was exhausted and didn't last long. I had strange and fitful dreams. I was soaked the next morning. Kathy was laying out clothes when I came back from the shower. "Put these on." She handed me something I didn't recognize. "What are these?" "Training pants." I turned the puffy object over in my hands. "I'm not wearing those." "Yes, you are, unless you'd prefer to wear a diaper. Of course, you'll have to bring a spare, incase Mrs. Travers needs to change you." "You wouldn't." "Would you like to discuss it with Mr. Hairbrush?" "No." "Then get dressed. You have work to do." The disposable underwear wasn't as thick or noisy as a diaper, but I still felt very conspicuous. I was feeling very contrite when Kathy rang Mrs. Travers' doorbell. "Good morning, Mavis. I brought David over to finish his work. He's going to be on his best behavior today and not give you any more trouble. If he does, I'd appreciate it if you told me. And if he needs it, you have my permission to spank him." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, no doubt hoping that was a joke. I knew it wasn't and blushed hotly. "Be a good boy, David. I'll see you tonight. And no swearing." It took me all day and another trip to the hardware store for new shutoff valves, but I finally got the sink done. I even managed to keep from swearing out loud. I did end up quietly crying at one point from holding it in. When it was all done, I was quite proud of myself, and Mrs. Travers was pleased. I was finishing the snack she made me, when Kathy came to take me home. "How was he today, Mavis?" "Good as gold, dear. Good as gold. I don't know what you said to him, but it did the trick. And such a good job he did. The new faucets are just beautiful." "I'm so glad to hear that. David, say thank you to Mrs. Travers." "Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth filled with cookie. "David, don't talk with your mouth full." "It's alright, dear. He deserves his reward. If I could borrow him again, I might have some other jobs for him to do?" "Anytime, Mavis. Anytime. I'm happy to have him here where somebody can keep an eye on him. But now I think it's time I get him home and fed, unless he's spoiled his appetite with your cookies." "I only had two," I complained. I saw Mrs. Travers hold up three fingers. "Well, we'll see if we can get some real food in him anyway. David, finish your milk; it's time to go." I downed the half full glass and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. I thanked Mrs. Travers for the cookies, and we headed home. Kathy told me she was proud of me for being a good boy. That made me feel good. But, she warned me, she expected no more bad behavior reports. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Then she stuck her hands down the front of my pants. "Just checking. Seems a little damp down there. Drop 'em." "I didn't. I swear." "You'd better not swear. Now, let's see those training pants." She unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants to my feet. She pulled the disposable underwear—I preferred the euphemism—inside out and down where she could get a good look. "Hmm. Definitely a little damp, but maybe it's just sweat. You could do a better job wiping though." She pulled them back up and went to make dinner. I was left standing with my pants at my ankles, wondering what just happened. The evening was business as usual. At bedtime, she said her little boy deserved a reward for being so good all day. I got it too, and how. Kathy had another pair of training pants out the next day. "Why do I have to wear these? I stayed dry yesterday." "I think you know why." "No, why?" "Because Mommy says so." She wrapped her arms around me and gave my bottom a squeeze. "And little boys who do what Mommy says get rewarded." She gave me a smack. "And you know what happens to little boys who don't." I quickly put on the paper pants. "Good boy. Get dressed. Mommy has to go to work." I tidied up around the house and puttered in the garden a little. I couldn't help but think about the night before and what Kathy implied that morning. I went to the store and bought a roast, hoping a nice dinner would earn me another of her rewards. With dinner in the oven, I was at a loss for what to do. I sat down to watch some TV and was soon asleep, dreaming of "Mommy." "Oh, David!" I sat straight up. "Get up, quick." I stood up, and that's when I felt it. The training pants were leaking. "Go change. I'll take care of this." I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. I came back to find her laying towel over the cushion. I told her I was sorry. "It wasn't too bad. I think I got it in time. Let's just eat. It smells wonderful." It was good, if I do say so myself. Kathy's praise for it was effusive. Then she turned serious. "David, what we going to do? I know you can't help your bedwetting, and that's alright. It really is, and we're dealing with it. But what are we going to do about this wetting in the daytime? It's obvious the training pants aren't up to the job." "I'm sorry. I wasn't even planning on going to sleep." "That's my point. If you're going to drop off like that, you could end up ruining the furniture." "I'll just stay awake. That's all." "You didn't today." "But now, I know I have to." "David, I don't want to deprive you of your sleep. If you need a nap, you should be able to take one." "I could put a diaper on myself," I suggested. "Yes, I do think we need to teach you to do that. But that's only going to help if you know you are going to sleep. What about days like today, when you just drop off?" "I don't know." "I think there's only solution that's really practical." I didn't like the sound of that. "You're just going to have to have a nap every day. That way, you won't just be nodding off unprotected." "But I don't need a nap every day." "I'm sorry, but I don't see any way around it. Unless you prefer I get a sitter who can make sure you stay awake or gets you diapered?" "No, I don't want that." "Then you'll just have to start taking naps. Do the dishes, and we'll see if we can teach you how to put on a diaper by yourself. And use the potty. We don't need any accidents in the middle of the lesson." That was it; the discussion was closed. I met her upstairs when the dishes were done. She had several diapers stacked up on the bed. "Why so many?" "It might take you a few tries to get it on right, and the tapes on these don't take repositioning well. If you mess up, we'll have to start from scratch. Here, let me help you get undressed." She kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. I thought we'd get to the instructions part later, and it showed. No such luck. "Okay. The first thing is to unfold the diaper and lay it out like this." "I could have guessed that." "Don't get smart; just listen. Now you lie down on top. You know how to do that already. Well, go on; I can't very well teach you this while you're standing up. Good. Now, lift your bottom and take the bottom two tapes. That's it. Now, move the diaper so the tapes are at the bend in your hips. No, a little higher. Let me feel. That's it. Good boy. Put your bottom down. Now, pull the front up and put the tapes on, snug as you can without stretching anything. Don't let the diaper move, or you'll have to start again. No, no, don't pull the front over so far; keep it centered. That's it. Good job. Now, tuck in all of the side flaps. That's right; we don't want those sticking out. Now, we do the top tapes, nice and snug. Very good! Stand up and let me check you. My goodness, you did so good, and on your first try! We'll just tuck these parts under to make sure nothing gets out. There, all ready for bed." I don't know what the all the fuss was about. It's not like it was brain surgery. Still, she managed to make me feel proud of myself. I reached to undo the tapes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm taking it off." "Why? It's on there so nice." "It's early, and I'm not sleepy." "Well, there's no sense in wasting it. If you take it off, we'll just have to throw it away. Just leave it on. Mommy will make it worthwhile," she teased. "Really?" I said hopefully. "Uh huh," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay." She knew what I liked. She didn't often let me spend much time with her titties, but that night, she let me suck and play with them to my heart's content. Meanwhile, she pleasured herself. "Oh, baby!" she cried out after her third orgasm. "You make Mommy feel so good." She brought my face to hers and kissed me deeply. I was looking forward to the main event. "We'll have to let you nurse more often. That was fantastic. Are you ready to go night-night, or do you want to watch some television?" "Aren't we going to… you know?" "Baby, what did I say about wasting diapers? That's not coming off until morning, unless you need a change before. So, what's if going to be, bed or TV?" I would have wet myself if I could have, but the state she had me in prevented it. "TV, I guess," I said with a pout. "Aw, don't be that way. If you're a good boy, maybe Mommy will let you nurse some more before bed." That cheered me a little. We put on our nightclothes and went downstairs. Even though Kathy picked out a movie that would appeal more to me than to her, I was still a bit sullen. Kathy noticed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Do you still want Mommy's titty? Come here, baby." She had me lie down with my shoulders in her lap. She supported my head with her arm, braced by the arm of the sofa. She pushed her nightgown out of the way. "Be gentle. Mommy's still tender from before." It wasn't what I really wanted, but it was still nice. I had seen the movie several times before. I could see it in my head just from the dialogue. Kathy was idly rubbing my chest and belly. It was very relaxing. I felt a twinge in my bladder and figured, what the heck? It wasn't like she was going to let me go to the bathroom anyway. It took some effort, but I did manage to overcome my resistance and let the liquid flow. Kathy must have noticed a change in me. She stuck her had inside my pajama pants and squeezed my diaper. "Good boy," she murmured, and she continued to rub down there. I was actually getting turned on. I was starting to squirm, trying to get a little more pressure on the front to the diaper. My suckling became more passionate, and I reached up to play with the other breast. I felt a slap on my padded behind. "Mommy said 'gentle.' If you can't be nice, I'm going to put you to bed." That brought about a definite pout from me. "Don't be like that; you were told. Let's get you turned around and you can have the other side for a while, but be nice." "Okay," I sighed. "What was that?" Yes… Mommy." "That's better. You just nurse nicely while we finish the movie. Then Mommy will get you tucked in." I was more on my side this time, and Kathy rubbed my back and bottom. I think I must have drifted off, because Kathy was telling me it was time for bed. I got my bearings and sat up. I didn't think I had been that wet when we switched breasts. Kathy took my hand and led me upstairs. She took off my pajama pants and said she was right; I would need a change before bed. She laid me down and untaped the used but not soggy garment. I asked to use the bathroom. "Really? I wouldn't think you had any more in you right now." "For… the other." "Oh, yes, of course. Go make poopies, and then we'll get you set for night-night." She patted my naked bottom as I went. She didn't really have to put it that way, I thought. I wasn't gone long, but she had a new diaper laid out, as well as some powder. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the powder. "It will make you more comfortable, and it will make you smell nice." "It'll make me smell like a baby." "Exactly, is there anything that smells better than a freshly changed baby? Besides, at the moment, you are acting like one. You may as well smell the part." "You know I can't help it. It's the stress. And those pills make me so sleepy, I don't know…" "That's not what I meant. You've been cranky and moody all night. Lie down, so Mommy can get your dipee on." I lay down, but not without telling her I didn't appreciate the baby talk. "You liked it well enough when we were playing here a while ago." She took a wet wipe and ran it up my butt crack. "And if this is the kind of job you do wiping yourself, maybe you are one. Does Mommy have to help you when you make a stinky in the potty?" "Kathy!" I complained. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding… for now, but make sure you do a better job in the future. If I'm going to have to clean your poopy bottom anyway, I may as well keep you in diapers full time." I gasped. "Relax. I didn't say I was going to do it…. I just haven't ruled out the possibility," she said with a grin that was either playful or threatening. I couldn't tell which. She powdered me nicely, but I was disappointed that she stopped when I started to stir. She finished the rest of the process efficiently and soon had me tucked in. She got in beside me and had me face her. "Unless we run into some problems, here are the rules from now on. I want you to lie down every afternoon around one o'clock. A little bit earlier, a little bit later, doesn't matter, as long as it's not past two. Whatever you might be planning that would take longer than that can wait until after you rest. I want you in a diaper when you lie down. You showed me you can do it yourself, and I feel better knowing you are protected. If you wet while you are napping, go ahead and put your pull-ups back on. If you don't, I want you to keep the diaper on until you use it; that way it's not wasted, and I know you aren't cheating. If you don't sleep at naptime, I want you in a diaper until I get home. I can't have you falling asleep without one on. If you have to change once or twice before I get back, that's okay, but no wasting. If I find you aren't taking your naps or you are running around without a diaper when you should have one on, Mommy will spank, understand?" I nodded, wide eyed. For some reason, I was getting aroused. "Say, 'yes, Mommy.'" "Yes, Mommy." "Good boy. And remember, good boys who do what Mommy says get rewards." She kissed me. "Night-night, baby." "Night-night, Mommy," I yawned. I started to plan out my day for tomorrow, but I was off to dreamland. I had finished mowing the lawn, and working on pulling some weeds, when I heard a car pull into the driveway. I wasn't pulling weeds anymore. I was pushing trucks around a sandbox. "Mommy!" I yelled. "There's my little man," Kathy beamed. But her face turned cold. "Davey, just look at you." I looked down. My hands were filthy, and there was sand stuck to the wet front of my little shorts. I looked up surprised. "David, did you take your nap today?" "I wasn't sleepy." "Where's your diaper?" "I forgot," I said sheepishly. "You forgot? What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" "Um…" "I said I wanted you to go down for a nap at one o'clock and to make sure you put your diaper on." "I didn't know it was so late." "Is that so? Did you not know you need to go potty either? "I…" "Davey, I'm very disappointed in you. Get in the house this instant." I ran in the house and was almost through the kitchen. "Stop right there, mister. Take off those filthy clothes. You're not going track sand all through the house." I didn't want to. Getting undressed in the kitchen meant I would have to walk right past the picture window to get upstairs. "But…" "No buts," she said, striding over and pulling my shirt right over my head. She made quick work of my sandals and shorts and left me standing in a drooping pull-up. She shook her head and started pulling it down. She gasped when she saw a small, firm poop inside. She got it off me and balled it up "David, you naughty, naughty boy. Get upstairs right now. You need a bath." She turned me around and planted a stinging slap on my damp bottom. I ran up the stairs, no longer caring if I was seen. Kathy was not far behind. "Sit on the potty and try to go poopy." She started the bath and added some sweet-smelling bubbles. "Honestly, I thought you were a big boy. I thought I could trust you. Did you go?" I shook my head. I was getting teary, because she was mad at me. "Get in the tub. This discussion isn't over, but you're just too filthy to deal with at the moment." I jumped in the tub, hoping compliance would earn me a few points. She scrubbed me from head to toe. "I have no idea how one little boy can get so dirty? How did you get sand in there?" I didn't know either, and I felt bad I was making work for her. She was hardly gentle, and I was glad when she finished. She dried me just as roughly, then ordered me into the bedroom. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry is not an excuse. Did you deliberately disobey me, or are you too much of a baby to leave on your own? I think I'm going to have to have Mrs. Travers come over and watch you during the day." "I don't need a babysitter," I whined. "I'm a big boy." "Then you are a naughty, disobedient boy, and I know just how to deal with that," she said, snatching up her hairbrush and hauling down across her lap. "I told you what would happen, if you didn't listen to Mommy. You have no one to blame but yourself." "Mommy, no!" My bottom was quickly ablaze. I was screaming out apologies and promising to be good. I was bawling my eyes out and shaking. No, I wasn't shaking. I was being shaken. "David, David, Wake up." I shouted something incoherent. I looked around. It was dark. I saw Kathy. I threw my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry! I won't wet my pants again. I'll take my nap. I'll wear my diapers. Don't spank me. I'm sorry!" I sobbed and sobbed. Mommy… Kathy held and shushed me. "There, there, baby, it's all over now. It was just a bad dream. Mommy loves you. You're Mommy's good boy; yes, you are. Let's get you changed, so we can go back to sleep." I was soaked, but Kathy took care of it like it was nothing. She made such short work of it; I didn't even become fully conscious. I just followed her instructions, lifting up when she asked, and I was soon dry and nuzzling her. "No, baby. Mommy's sore. Try to go back to sleep. Mommy will see about buying you a baba and a binky tomorrow." That thought didn't register enough to consciously think about it, but it did sink in enough that I dreamt of nursing from a giant bottle. My thumb was wrinkled when I woke up. The night must have been harder on me than I realized. I had no trouble putting on a diaper and taking a nap the next day or the day after. Kathy made me show her the used diapers when she saw I was wearing pull-ups. She praised me for being a good boy. The day after that, try as I might, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went ahead and wet the diaper, so I could show Kathy I hadn't wasted it, but then I put on a pull-up and went about the rest of my afternoon. We sat down to watch TV after dinner. I was nodding off before the first commercial. "David?" "Hmm?" I asked groggily. "David, did you have a nap today?" "Mm-mm," I acknowledged. "Is that a no?" I nodded. "Then where's your diaper?" "Used it." "I know that, but why don't you have one on now?" "Don' need one." "That's not the rule, and you know it. Get up. You're going to bed right now." "Wanna stay up with you." "Nothing doing. You get upstairs right now, unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom." That woke me up. "But it's early," I whined. "David, I'm warning you for the last time." "Okay, I'm going," I huffed and all but stomped out of the room. "And use the potty. I'll be up in a minute to put your diaper on." I did as I was told; I did have to go. Kathy came in and laid out a diaper while I was getting undressed. Before I knew it, she had me squared away and tucked in. Seemingly out of nowhere, she stuck bottle in my mouth. "Leave that there. I bought it as a joke, but maybe it's appropriate after all. You know the rules, David. It was very naughty of you to break them. I feel like you lied to me. I'm very disappointed in you." That stirred up memories of my nightmare. "We will talk about this in the morning. In the meantime, drink your baba and go to sleep. I expect it to be empty when I come to bed. I'm very upset with you right now." I was upset too, as much with myself as being made to drink from a baby's bottle. Still, I was tired and didn't last long. I woke up briefly to find the bottle being replaced in my mouth and held there. The next thing I remember was Kathy's waking me to get changed and "have a talk." I came back from the bathroom to time a diaper waiting on the bed. Kathy was sitting next to it, hairbrush in hand. I immediately protested. "I get it. I'm sorry. If I don't take a nap, I'll wear a diaper till you say so. You don't have to do this." "You'll get it alright. And I do have to do this, because it seems the only time you listen to me is when you're face down over my lap. Get over here now." I reluctantly went and climbed into position. She didn't waste any time in starting to warm my seat. "You deliberately disobeyed me, and then you pretended like you took a nap. You thought you were real smart, didn't you? Thought you could fool me into thinking you took a nap, didn't you? What do you think would have happened if you fell asleep before I got home? I'll tell you what would have happened; you would have wet your pants and made a royal mess, that's what. You are a naughty, naughty, little boy. Lying to Mommy, Mommy is so angry with you. Are you going to make me have to hire a sitter for you? Is that what I have to do, because Mommy's little boy can't be trusted?" "No! Please, don't! I'll be good. I promise!" She stopped spanking. "Alright, fine, I'll give you one more chance. Get up, and let's get your diaper on. You are in diapers all day, and I do mean all day. I'm going to call you from time to time, and you had better be wearing your diaper, because you are going to send me a picture to prove it, and if you aren't wearing one, or it takes longer than I think it should for you to send it, you won't sit down for a week, and I will find you that sitter. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes." "Excuse me?" "Yes, Mommy. Yes." "Good. Now, get your nose in that corner." She left for a few minutes. "I set up your computer with the webcam on, and I set an alarm. Don't you dare move until the alarm goes off. I may not be able to watch you all the time, but you won't know when I do. So, you'd better be on your best behavior and do exactly as Mommy says, understood?" "Yes, Mommy," I said dejectedly. "I do love you, baby, but you have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, okay?" "Okay." "That's my good boy." She kissed and hugged me. "Okay, nose back in the corner, and don't move till the alarm goes off. Remember; Mommy's watching." She turned me around and patted my behind. I was left with my thoughts. I hoped not for too long. That hope didn't last. With no frame of reference but my own world, which was defined by the two walls I got to stare at, the seconds ticked slowly. I got to dwell on why I was standing there. Because Mommy, I mean Kathy, was mean. No, she wasn't; I did this to myself. Why couldn't I have handled things better? I could have stood up to my boss. I could have gone to HR sooner. I could have quit. Why didn't I? Because I was afraid. What good would that have done? I'd have just been out of a job sooner. Why did I have to start that again? And why wasn't it stopping. I got rid of the stress. I quit. But I still couldn't keep dry. It's no wonder Kathy treated me like a baby. Why did she do that? Why wouldn't she, when I was in diapers every night. Some Man. But it was kind of nice. It felt good to be snuggled. It felt really good to be suckled. She was actually being really nice… when she wasn't spanking me. Why did she have to do that? And why didn't I stop her? What was I supposed to do, hit her back? I couldn't do that. And it's not like I didn't bring them on myself. I didn't listen. Why should I have to listen? I'm a grown man. But I was acting like a little boy. A little boy who can't keep his pants dry. And so, it went on until the alarm chimed. Less than a minute later, Kathy called. "You stayed in the corner the whole time. Good boy. I knew you could listen when you wanted to. The webcam is still on. Show me your diaper." I positioned myself and the camera so she could look. "Still dry. Good. I have to get back to work now. I'll call and check on you a little later. Be a good boy for Mommy, and get your chores done. I'll talk to you before naptime. I love you, sweetie. Bye-bye." She hung up before could get a word in. There was nothing for it but to get on with my day. I wasn't very hungry, but coffee was welcome. I puttered around, taking care of what I had to, making the bed, doing the laundry and dishes. I wet myself a little; there didn't seem any point in holding it. Kathy called around eleven. "Hi, baby. How's your day going? Are you being a good boy?" "Yes, Mommy. I'm almost done with my chores." "That's my good baby. Speaking of which. Send me a picture of your diaper." I snapped a pic and sent it to her. "Just a little wet. You'll be fine till nap time. Mommy needs to get back to work. I want you to find some more things to do around the house. You're still on punishment; so, no TV or computer till Mommy says so. But make sure the webcam is facing the bed. I may want to check in on you during your nap. Be a good boy. I love you, baby. I'll talk to you later." Now facing a day of boredom, I looked for things to do. I vacuumed the carpets and washed the floors. That kept me busy until lunchtime. I had a sandwich and a soda. By that time, I was looking forward to a change. When the phone rang, I thought it was Kathy. "Hi, Mom…" "David, it's Mrs. Travers across the street. Could you come help me, please?" "I'd be happy to Mrs. Travers, but right now isn't a very good time. May later this afternoon?" It was getting close to one o'clock, and Kathy was going to want me in bed. "I'm sorry, David. It really can't wait. The toilet is backing up, and I can't stop it. Please help." She sounded desperate. I was torn over what to do. "David, are you there?" "Yes," I said stupidly, coming out of my head. "Yes, Mrs. Travers. Let me just grab some tools, and I'll be right over." "Thank you, David. You're a lifesaver." The first order of business was to call Kathy. I needed to tell her what was going on. Her cell went straight to voicemail. I didn't want to just leave a message; so, I called her office. "Ms. Henderson's office. May I help you?" "Hi, Mandy. It's David." "Oh, hi, David. I hear you're taking some time off. That must be so great. I wish I could do that." "Mandy," I broke in. "I need to speak to Kathy. Could you put me through please?" "I'm sorry I can't. She's in a meeting, and she said no interruptions, unless it's life and death. It's not, is it?" "No… um… just have her call me, will you?" "Sure thing. Is everything alright?" "Um… fine. You have her call. Thanks." I put on my baggiest sweats and hoped they'd hide what was under them. I threw my snake, a plunger, some wrenches, and a couple of kinds of pliers in a duffle and headed across the street to Mrs. Travers. "David, hurry, hurry. It's getting worse!" I followed the sound of running water until I saw it. How did she let it get this far? The bathroom was flooded, and it was flowing out into the hallway. I stuck my phone in a pocket of the duffel and set the bag down in a spot near the door that was still dry. "Get me all the towels you can. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. Quick!" She brought me a couple of kitchen towels. "No, bath towels. The bigger the better. And as many as you can carry." This time, she understood. I tossed them around the room, and they were saturated as soon as they hit the floor. "Have you got more?" She nodded. "Get them. All of them." I squatted beside the toilet and tried to turn the shutoff valve. Nothing. I grabbed a pair of channel locks from my bag and tried to muscle the knob again. Before the valve finally budged, I was afraid the strain would make me poop my pants. I did pee them a little. Thank heaven that didn't happen. I was making some headway, when my phone rang. I had to get the water off; so, I ignored it. Was it really necessary to put so many threads on these stupid valves? The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. I could hear the flow slowing. I was getting close. Like the sink, this valve was long unused and heavily corroded. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to turn that last little bit without breaking it off. The phone was ringing again. "Mrs. Travers! Could you answer my phone for me? I kind of have my hands full." I could see her looking at it like it was a snake in her hand. "Just slide your finger up the screen. That's it. And hit the button that says 'Answer.'" "David, where the hell are you," I could hear Kathy's voice all the way across the room. "You're not in your bed, and I've been calling and calling. What is going…" "Kathy, dear." Mrs. Travers found her voice and near shouted. "It's Mavis. David can't talk right now…. No, he's fine. It's my toilet. It was flooding the house. David was a godsend, coming over to fix it…. Is he what? Well, yes, he is. There was quite a lot of water on the floor…. Oh…. Oh my…" I didn't hear any more. Mrs. Travers had wandered down the hall. I still needed to get the water shut down. The valve finally did close, and I shouted for Mrs. Travers to let her know. Nothing. I threw the soggy towels into the bathtub and used the last couple of dry ones to make a relatively dry spot to work. I took the lid off the tank to see why it was running like that. The arm on the old ball float had corroded right off. Always when there's a clog, I thought to myself. I got my snake to start working on the clog. It didn't go very far. It hit an obstruction almost immediately. Whatever it was, it was hard. I pulled the snake out, and a fair amount of toilet paper came with it. I went back it and hit the object again. I tried to dislodge it with the snake, but it wouldn't move forward, and I couldn't get the spring to snag it. There was nothing for it but to do it manually. I pushed up my sleeve, knelt down, and plunged my hand into the cold water. I tried really hard not to think about where my hand was or what it might find. I pulled out more toilet paper and gagged a little. In again, I felt the object. There was more paper around it, but I able to get my fingers around it. It was wedge in pretty tight, but it broke free, and the water in the bowl quickly went down. I swished off the paper and found a toy car. "I found the problem," I shouted. No reply. Where did she go? "Mrs. Travers?" I yelled. "I'm going to have to go to the hardware store. You need a new float valve." "You got it fixed. Thank heaven." I must have jumped a foot. I wasn't expecting her to be right there. "Almost," I said, trying to get my heart back where it belonged. "I'm going to need some parts." "Dear, oh dear, look at you. You're soaked to the skin. Come with me. I have some dry things you can change into." "That's okay. I can just run home." "Nonsense. You'll catch your death. Come." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom. I stopped short, when I got to the door. There, on the bed were some my clothes, and sitting right on top was a diaper. I almost didn't hear Mrs. Travers speaking. "Kathy told me about your little problem, dear. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry about taking you away from your nap. How about we get you into something dry? Then you can have a snack and a little lie down before you go to the store." Before I knew it, Mrs. Travers pulled my sweats to my feet. "Mrs. Travers!" I shouted. "My, you are soaked to the skin, aren't you? Don't worry. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." She was guiding me toward the bed and pushing me down. "What's that you have in your hand? Oh, Matthew, that boy! You can keep that, if you want, Davey. Matthew won't be getting it back. But let's give it a wash first. We know where it's been." She gingerly took the car and set it aside. Then she reached for the tapes on my diaper. "Mrs. Travers, no! I mean, I can do this myself." "No need to fret, dear. Mr. Travers had the same problem toward the end. I'm an old hand at this." "But…" "It's the least I can do, dear. And I told Kathy I'd take good care of you this afternoon. Just lie still, and we'll have you nice and dry in no time." I tried to squirm and push her hands away. She slapped mine. "We'll have none of that nonsense. Kathy gave me permission to spank you the last time you were here. Don't make me have to do it." I looked at her wide-eyed. She gave me a look that said not to tempt her. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was someplace, anyplace else. That didn't work very well, since I had to lift while she got everything adjusted. She did make short work of it after that, and she was pulling my shoes, socks and sweats off my feet. I sat there dumbfounded, as she changed my shirt, put socks on my feet and had me step into my pants. "There," she said, satisfied, "all dry. Come on down to the kitchen. You can have some cookies and a nice glass of milk." She thanked me profusely while I ate. She made very good cookies. I reached for another. "Uh-uh," he said, as she took away the plates. "What would Kathy say, if I spoiled your appetite? Finish your milk, and we'll put you down for a nice little nap." "But I need to go to the hardware…" She cut me off, wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Plenty of time for that after your nap. I promised Kathy, and there won't be any more discussion about it. Come along." She took my hand and led me to a different bedroom, one she obviously kept for the grandkids. There was a wide assortment of toys and cartoon bedding. Whether very young, a bit older, girl or boy, whoever stayed in this room would feel comfortable and loved. Mrs. Travers pulled back the covers on the twin bed and told me to get in. I reluctantly did as she asked and immediately noticed the crackle of a waterproof cover. She tucked me in and, out of habit, pulled up a side rail. She tittered realizing what she had done. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." She kissed my forehead. "You have a nice sleep, and when you get up, maybe Nana Mavis will let you have that cookie. Sleep tight, Davey." With that she was gone. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to talk to Kathy, but I didn't know where my phone was, and she probably arranged this anyway. How was I going to look Mrs. Travers in the face after today? And what might she tell the other neighbors? I needed to get out of this predicament. I needed to get over this stupid wetting problem and find a new job. At least I'd be away from home more. I yawned. The morning was catching up with me. A little nap wouldn't hurt, and I was kind of stuck for now anyway. "Wakey, wakey," Mrs. Travers sang cheerily. "Time to get up." "Huh?" I tried to get my bearings. Why was I in a child's room? Oh yeah. "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, letting down the rail. She shocked me by sticking her fingers in the waistband of my diaper. "Not too wet. You should be fine till your Mommy gets home." "I need to get to the store." I needed to get out of there. "That will have to wait. I talked to Kathy, and she should be here soon. You can finish up tomorrow. How about that cookie? It will be our little secret." It turned out not to be a secret. I was biting into a second one, when Kathy came in. For some reason, I felt guilty. "How was he for you today, Mavis? I know how he can be when there's plumbing involved." "A perfect angel, Kathy. Weren't you, Davey? He's just having a little snack as a reward for coming to my rescue." "I'm glad to hear that. I just hope he hasn't spoiled his dinner. A growing boy can't live on milk and cookies." "I expect he'll be fine. I'm sure he worked up quite an appetite." "Well, we'd best be off. I'll send him over in the morning to finish up. You don't mind watching him, do you?" "Not at all dear. He's my good little helper." "Thank you, Mavis. Come on, Dave. Let's go make some supper." "Oh, Davey, don't forget your car. It's all clean now. He can have it, can't he, Kathy?" "Of course. What do you say, David?" "Thank you, Mrs. Travers." I didn't need to be reminded, for gosh sake. "You're welcome, Davey. Maybe tomorrow, we can make some cookies together?" She winked. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. We'll talk to you tomorrow." Kathy took me by the hand and led me home. "That was very nice of you, helping Mrs. Travers like that. I was so worried, when I couldn't find you." "I did call." "I know. I should have checked my messages first. That's my fault. Do you like your toy?" "What? Oh, yeah, I guess," I said, setting it down. "It was very nice of Mrs. Travers to give it to you." "I know. But can you stop talking to me like I'm a child?" "I'm just saying it was nice." "But you told me to say thank you, and you're talking about my working over there like your dropping me off at daycare." "Still a bit cranky after your nap." "I'm not cranky! And I don't need naps. I'm not a baby, damn it." "Don't take that tone with me. And no more potty mouth, unless you want it washed out. How's your diaper holding out, by the way?" "It's fine. Why did you make me wear it all day anyway? Now Mrs. Travers knows, and she'll probably tell everybody. It's not like I don't have enough problems. I don't have a job anymore, and I can't stop wetting the bed, and now everybody's gonna think I'm a big baby, just like you and Mrs. Travers do. It's not fair!" Tears were running down my face. "Why does it have to be like this?" Kathy took me in her arms, and I sobbed. It was all too much. I felt a warm wetness gather around my bottom, and I cried all the harder. "Shh. Shh. I know, baby. I know. It's all overwhelming, isn't it? It's going to be okay. I promise. I had a long talk with Mrs. Travers this afternoon. I explained the whole thing, and she understands. She just wants to help, and she won't tell a soul; I promise. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I know you're not a baby. But you've been through a lot lately, and I want to take care of you. I want you to let all the hurt go. I think that bully of a boss did more damage than you realize. And trying to put up a brave front and hide what it was doing only made it worse. I think you need to let go of everything and let me handle things for a while. Can you be a big, brave boy and trust Mommy to look after you until you're better?" I nodded. "That's my little man. You just let Mommy be in charge for a while, and she'll make it all better. You just be Mommy's little helper, and don't worry about the mean people anymore. You can help Mrs. Travers too. She needs lots of help now that her husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems any more than Mommy does. We know that even big boys have trouble with the potty sometimes. You just do what we ask, and we'll take care of the rest. Can you do that for me, baby? Will you do that for Mommy?" "I guess." I was emotionally drained. I couldn't fight it anymore. "Promise me, baby. Promise me you'll listen to Mommy and Mrs. Travers and let us take care of you." "I promise." "I promise, what?" "I'll listen." "Listen to who, baby?" "Mommy and Nana Mavis." I sat up at hearing that name come out of my mouth. Kathy looked shocked, but her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "That's right, baby. Mommy and Nana will take good care of you. Are you hungry?" I was caught off guard by the question, but I was, in fact. I nodded. Kathy squeezed the front of my diaper. "Then let's get you fed, but first somebody needs a change." Kathy took me upstairs, then made a detour into the bathroom. When she was down to the diaper, she asked if I had made poopies that day. I hadn't. "Sit on the potty, and try to make a boom-boom for Mommy. I'll be right back." I was getting ready to wipe when she came back… naked. She turned on the shower. She took the paper from my hand and told me to stand up. "Good job! Turn around." She bent me over and wiped me. "Okay, get in the shower. You've been playing with toilet water all day and not the good kind. Mommy needs to clean you up." It was nice showering together. It had been a long time since we did that. All that soaping and scrubbing led to other things, and we had to start over. We basked in the afterglow under the water. "I'm confused. One minute, you're wiping me like I'm three years old, the next you're…" I grinned and pulled her closer. "You may need a mommy right now, but you are still my husband, and don't you forget it. I haven't. But now it's time to get the baby dressed and fed. Get out, and Mommy will dry you." I had the best night's sleep in many weeks, wet but restful. Kathy woke me lovingly, and she was laying out my clothes when I came back from the shower. "No diaper?" "Of course not, sweetie. Your punishment is over. It's back to the regular rules. You'll wear your training pants until naptime, unless you'd rather a diaper. It's okay if you do." "No, training pants are good. But what about Mrs. Travers? What if she notices a difference? How am I going to explain why I was wearing a diaper yesterday but not today?" "Don't worry, baby? Mommy already talked to Nana, and she knows all about it. That's the other reason you can go back to wearing training pants. Nana will be there to make sure you don't fall asleep without your diaper on." "Does that mean I have to go back to wearing diapers when I get finished with her bathroom?" "I expect you'll be busy with her all day. We'll just see how it goes. Okay, sweetie?" "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "Don't pout, honey. You're going to have lots of fun with Nana. I promise." I went to my workshop and got a tubing cutter. I was going to replace that old shutoff valve as well as the float. Kathy was waiting by the door with an overnight bag. "What's that?" I asked. "Just some extra supplies, you never know." We went out, and I started to turn toward the car. "No, baby, this way. Nana will take you to the store." Mrs. Travers was waiting for us. The door opened as we approached. "Why, hello, Davey," she said, a little too brightly. "All ready to get to work?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, don't be so glum. You did the hard part yesterday, didn't you? You're such a good helper. You'll have it all fixed in no time, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Now, now. No need to be so formal. We're good friends now, aren't we? What did we agree my name was?" I hadn't agreed to anything, but I knew what was expected. "Nana Mavis." "That's right!" she beamed. "And Nana's going to take very good care of you. And if you're a very good boy, Nana has a big surprise for you later. Won't that be fun?" I looked at Kathy, hoping she would intervene on my behalf. Instead she gave me a small nod and a look that said go along with it. "Yes, Nana." "That's my good boy. Come in. come in. Have you had breakfast yet? Nana can't have you working on an empty stomach." "I'm sorry, Mavis. I didn't have time to feed him this morning. I really am running late." "That's alright, dear. He can eat with Nana. I'm just sorry you can't join us." "Me too, but I do have to run. Here's his bag. It should have anything you might need. David, you be a good boy for Nana today, and I'll see you after work. Thank you again, Mavis." Kathy kissed both me and Nana… Mrs. Travers on the cheek and took her leave. "Well, Davey, we've got a big day ahead of us. I think that calls for pancakes. How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Then have a seat. They'll be coming right up. But first, maybe you should go potty." I blushed and mumbled, "I don't have to right now." "I think you should try anyway. For Nana?" "Alright." I headed off to the sill working guest bath. "That's a good boy. Don't forget to flush and wash your hands." I don't know what Kathy told her, but Mrs. Travers was taking to her role as Nana more enthusiastically than I was comfortable with. I suppose it wasn't hurting anyone, maybe my pride a little bit. On the other hand, she was being really nice. It's not every day I get someone to make pancakes for me, and bacon from the smell of it. I made an honest effort of it, but I didn't have to go. I flushed and washed anyway. "Just in time. I have your plate all ready for you." I half expected it to be already cut up. Instead, she had poured one large and two small circles of batter, making the shape of a famous mouse. I had to smile at that. She set the plate down in front of me, tucked a napkin into my shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. "Be careful with the syrup. Use both hands." That annoyed me a little, but I bit my tongue and used both hands. I don't know if using only one would have made any difference, but the syrup did pour faster than expected, and my pancake was fairly swimming in it. "Oh, somebody has a sweet tooth," she said, setting a large glass of milk in front of me. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." "May I have some coffee, Nana?" "Coffee? Are you sure? Oh, heavens, of course. But drink your milk too. It's good for you." She made excellent pancakes, light, crispy around the edges. I had seconds and bacon and thirds. I had to soak up all that syrup after all. I was stuffed. "Such a good eater," she said, astonished. "Aren't you going to have some?" "Oh, no, dear," I had something earlier. Is your tummy full? Would you like something else?" "No, thank you. I couldn't eat another bite. It was delicious." "You're welcome, sweetheart. It's nice to cook for someone again. I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the hardware store?" "After that meal, not so much. But I do need to get some things to finish fixing the toilet." "I'll go freshen up and then we can go. Do you need to use the potty?" "No, Nana," I sighed. "I'm fine." "Okay," she said uncertainly and went about her business. I poured myself another half cup of coffee. I was wondering what was taking so long, when she came back with her hair a little spruced up and a touch of light make up. "You're sure you don't want to use the potty before we go?" "Yes, Nana," I said, rolling my eyes. "Watch your tone, young man. Alright let's go." Before long, we were back, and I set right to work. I had the old shutoff replaced and the main water turned back on. The corroded float mostly out, when I wished I had used the toilet before starting. I was close to finished; so, I forged on. All parts attached and feeling tight, I opened the shutoff and promptly got sprayed in the face. I turned off the water and had another go at the loose fitting. That did it, tight as a drum. I closed the door and christened the job. I noticed that the training pants were more than a little damp. I flushed and watched all the parts work as they should. I put away my tools and wiped everything down. Proud of myself, I opened the door and shouted, "Nana! I'm done!" "Nice job, Davey! I'm so proud of you. Thank you so much. It's beautiful! Come along. I have a nice lunch and a big piece of cake with your name on it." Lunch was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Again, she stuck the napkin in my shirt. She wasn't kidding about the cake. It was a two-layer yellow cake with gobs of homemade chocolate buttercream and enormous. It was all I could do to finish it. I didn't object the big glass of milk she gave me, even though I would have preferred coffee, and I didn't really need to use two hands, as she insisted. I thanked her with all my heart and said I would be on my way. "Oh, no, David. I have something I want you to do after your nap. Come up stairs and lie down. Nana has a big surprise for you when you get up." "I really should be…" "Now, David, you've been so good all day. Don't start giving Nana trouble now. I told your Mommy I would put you down after lunch, and that's what we're going to do." She took my hand and led me back to the grandkids' room. I think she would have dragged me, if I had put up any resistance. She put the bag Kathy had brought on the bed and pulled out pajamas and a diaper. She did a double take and took something else out of the bag. She turned around and wagged Kathy's hairbrush at me. "Don't make me use this," she warned and put it back. "Let's get you changed, and you'll have a nice nap and be all rested for your surprise." She came over and started unbuttoning my shirt. I backed away. She asked if she needed to get the hairbrush. I let her undress me. If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly was when she had me down to the pull-up. She started to take it down and stopped halfway. "Oh, David, when did that happen? I told you, you should have used the potty before we went to the store. You have to tell Nana when you have to go. Oh, well, I guess that's why we have you in trainers. At least your pants stayed dry. But let's get your diaper and jammies on, so you can go beddy-bye." I was soon tucked in and sulking. "Don't be that way, sweetheart. Nana's not mad. Accidents happen. But I want you to promise me, you'll tell Nana the next time, okay?" "Okay," I sighed. "That's Nana's good boy." She pulled the blankets up under my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Honeybunch. You have a good rest, and then Nana has something really special for you. Ni-night." She shut the door and left me to wonder what it might be. Tucked in and toasty, with a full tummy, I didn't last long. Nana jostled me awake. I knew from the shadows; I had been out for a while. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Time to get up. If you sleep any longer, your Mommy will never get you down at bedtime. Do you want to see what Nana has for you?" I nodded, curious. "Good. Let's just have a check then. Oo, I think Nana shouldn't give you so much milk before naptime. No worries, that's what it's there for." She got the bag and pulled out a diaper and a pair of training pants. She seemed to weigh her options for a moment ad put the diaper back. "We'll try these again, but you have to tell Nana when you need to use the potty, understand?" "Yes, Nana," I said, blushing. "Good boy." She got me changed and was pulling me the hand again. She had the biggest grin on her face. She took me down to the basement. I wondered what she wanted to show me. I had been down there earlier to turn off the main water line and hadn't noticed anything unusual. She turned me off to the left and opened a door. Before me lay the most elaborate train set I had ever seen outside and exhibition like the one we went to at Sharon's house. It wasn't nearly as big, of course, but still. It had everything, tracks winding all over the place, tunnels, trestles, crossing gates, people and animals. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. "Do you like it?" "Do I like it? It's beautiful!" "It was Harold's. He made it for our boys, but he could never get them interested in it. They just wanted to crash the trains. When they discovered girls, even Harold didn't play with it anymore. He never had the heart to get rid of it. I guess he always kept hope. It's been sitting down here all these years." "That's terrible. Something like this should be loved." "It was. It was, but not for a long time. Would you like to play with it?" "Would I? Do you mean it? That would be awesome! Are you sure it's okay? I mean…" "Yes, sweetheart, I mean it. It would do my heart good to know it wasn't down here just gathering dust. I think it would make Harold very happy too." There was a tear in her eye. "Oh, Nana, thank you!" I hugged her so tight. I think I might have lifted her off the floor. I gave her a great big kiss on the cheek and looked back over the display. I approached the layout with reverence, lightly touching it, following the track with my eyes. I found the controls and studied them carefully. I wanted to be sure of what each one did before I went any further. I never laid my hands on anything like this. I was lost in its intricacies when I made the first tentative turn of the transformer knob. An engine came to life and slowly started to move. I felt something placed on my head, then a hug from behind and a kiss on my cheek. I could take my eyes off the train, but I'm sure I felt a little wetness there. I was lost in wonder. I carefully tried each control, only for a second at first, just to make sure it did what I thought it would. After a while, I had two trains going and track switches working. I was thrilled, and I had barely scratched the surface of what it all could do. "Davey, you're Mommy's here." I almost whined for five more minutes. I really wanted to keep playing. Instead, I called back, dejectedly, "Okay." I carefully shut everything down, reversing the order in which I started them. When I stood up, a shiver ran through me. There was wetness on the backs of my thighs. I froze. How was I going to get out of there without them seeing? "David, come on," Kathy called. "It's time to go home and leave Nana in peace." "Coming," I lied. Now she was waiting at the top of the stairs. Was there a back door to this place? "Now, David. Don't make me come down there." There was nothing else for it. I slowly climbed the steps. There may as well have been a gallows at the top. "David! What have you done? I'm ashamed of you. Apologize this instant!" "I'm sorry, Nana." I meant it too. "You and I are going to have a talk about this when I get you home. I'm so sorry, Mavis." "It's alright, dear. I shouldn't have left him alone for so long. I should have known better after this morning." "This morning? You wet your pants twice in the same day? What am I going to do with you?" "Don't be too hard on him, Kathy. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure he couldn't help it. I really should have made him sit on the potty more." "It's not your fault, Mavis. There's no excuse for his wetting himself in the daytime. He should know when he needs to go potty, shouldn't you? If he doesn't, well we'll deal with it. But I think he was just being lazy and not wanting to stop playing. Get your bag and thank Nana. We're going home." "Thank you, Nana, for everything, especially for letting me play with the trains. That was so awesome." "You're welcome, sweetheart. You can play with them anytime you want, as long as your Mommy says it's alright." Kathy took the hat off my head and handed it to Nana. "Thank you, Mavis, but I think he's lost his engineer's license for a while. We'll see if he earns it back. I'll call you later." She pushed me out the door and scolded me all the way across the street and into the house. "Go upstairs, take off your clothes, and sit on the potty. Don't move until I tell you. I'll come up when I'm calm enough to deal with you." I don't know how long I was left to sit there, long enough for my legs to fall asleep. Kathy was calmer when she came in but still visibly upset. She picked up the saturated training pants. "For heaven's sake, David, what is wrong with you? I thought by now, you'd be getting better, but your just getting worse. I so want to spank you right now, but I don't trust myself to do it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? I've tried to be patient with you, but it's wearing pretty thin. I know you need a mommy right now, and I'm trying really hard to be that for you. I even told you, you could wear diapers all the time, if that's what you wanted. You said you didn't need them. You said you wanted training pants. You wanted to be a big boy. Then you go pissing your pants, not once but twice, the second time, so much you leaked. Well, mister, you listen to me, and you listen good. You want to piss your pants like a baby? Fine. You've got the whole weekend. You're going back into diapers right now, and you can piss and shit yourself to your heart's content. On Monday, if, and I mean if, I think you've learned your lesson, and you still want them, I'll consider letting you have your training pants back. But that's only going to happen if Nana will help with your toilet training. You'll sit on the potty on a schedule, you'll be supervised, your pants will be checked, and if you wet yourself, your going to be spanked, put back in diapers, and we'll start all over again the next time one of us is available to try and teach you to be a big boy. And don't think I'm going to be grounded just because you are being a baby. I have shopping to do this weekend, and you'll be coming with me, diaper bag and all. Do I make myself clear?" I had long since started crying. I sobbed, "I'm sorry." "I didn't ask if you were sorry. I said, do I make myself clear." "Yes, Mommy. Crystal." "Good. Get up and go in the bedroom. I need to get a diaper on you. You can clean up this mess afterward." "I can't," I wailed. "Are you defying me? After what you've done? Why the hell not?" "My legs are asleep." "Then I guess you'll just have to crawl like the baby you are acting like." I slid off the toilet and onto my knees. At first, I could hardly move my legs. Then the blood started to flow back into them, and that was much worse. Pins and needles only begins to describe the electric burning that flared with every movement. Kathy slapped my behind, and I screamed. Halfway to the bedroom, enough feeling had returned that I tried to stand. Kathy told me to stay where I was; she would let me know when I was allowed to walk again. I crawled up on the bed and lay back to be diapered. Kathy told me to roll over. I was sure she was going to take the belt to me, and I started bawling. Instead of fire on my bottom, I felt cold stickiness. She was slathering me with Desitin. It felt like she was using enough for three of me. I heard the rustling of diapers and saw two of them laid open next to me. She told me to roll over, and she applied a layer just as thick to the front. She covered me in a cloud of baby powder. It took her several wet wipes to get her hands reasonably clean. She taped up the double diaper and looked dissatisfied. She went away and came back with a roll of clear packing tape. She told me to stand, and she wrapped the tape around me three times. "That ought to hold you. Get in bed. From what I heard, you had more than enough to eat today. If you're quiet, and I feel like it, I might bring you a bottle later. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. Understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I squeaked. She looked down at me for a long time. Finally, she sat down on the bed. She brushed the tears from my cheeks and the hair away from my forehead. "Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. I know that this has all been hard on you. The thing is, this is all hard on me too. Shh. It's okay. I can deal with it, but you have to deal with it too. You have to decide what is going on and how you are going to handle it. What's happening isn't working. If anything, the situation is getting worse. I need you to think really hard about this. Do you think there is something wrong with you that you are losing control of your bodily functions, something physically wrong? If you do, I'll call Margaret on Monday. We'll get all the tests and specialists we need to make you better." I started to speak, but she put a finger over my lips and shushed me gently. "Don't answer now. I want you to think hard about that over the weekend. I don't know how your body feels inside. Margaret didn't find anything wrong with you before, and I don't think there is now. But you can tell me in a couple of days, after you think about it. As for me, I feel like you are trying to live in two worlds at the same time. A part of you wants to be a little boy and be taken care of. A part of you wants to be a big strong man. Both of those things are fine. But I think trying to both is hurting you. I think it's causing problems for me. I think you have to choose. If you can't handle the responsibility of keeping your pants dry, or just don't want it, you have to tell me. There are things we… I can do to prevent it from being a problem. It would mean some big changes for both of us, but we can deal with it, I promise. But you can't go around just wetting your pants, like you did today. That hurts us both, and it hurt Nana. It's all forgiven now, but you need to make some decisions. "You need to decide if there's something physically wrong with you and if not, which world you want to live in. Do you want to be a grown up, or do you need to be a little boy for now? I want you to take your time and really think about this. It's very important, and you should not make your decision quickly. I want you to take your time, and I won't ask for or listen to your answer until Monday. I'm not going to push you in any direction, and I'll respect any decision you make. But I think, and I hope you agree, that what you did today was not the right way to handle what's happening, and that it deserves some consequences." I was sniffling, but I nodded. "Good. So, until Monday morning, you are going to be in diapers. You will use them when you need to, and you will do what I say. You can learn just what it's like to be Mommy's baby and whether that's right for you. Do not ask to be let out before we discuss your decision. I am not going to change my mind. And if you think this is easy for me, think about what changing one of your dirty diapers is like for me. Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's been a trying day for both of us." She stood up, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, my baby-husband, no matter what." She turned out the light and left the room. I tried to think about what she said, but it was just too much, and I drifted off into a less than peaceful sleep. I felt Kathy curl up against me, and I slept better after that. I was suddenly cold and flailing for the blankets. "Wake up, sleepyhead," Kathy sang merrily. I was still in a fog. "Let's check that dipee. Oh, yes, all wet. Let's get you changed." She was cutting through the tape she had wrapped around me before I could fully comprehend where I was, let alone what she was doing. I was more or less awake by the time she taped up the fresh diaper. She told me to put on some pants and come downstairs for breakfast. I was greeted by a spread of pancakes and sausage. This was not unheard of on a Saturday morning, but it was usually me cooking it. I sat down, and Kathy placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. I looked at her curiously. "Yes, I know what I said last night about your being Mommy's baby this weekend, but I don't think we have to go overboard. You do need to wear and use your diapers, and you have to do as I tell you, but I'm not going to make you drink from bottles or talk baby talk… unless you want to, that is. Oh, and unless we go out in public, you will call me Mommy, okay? I don't have any plans to go anywhere, but you never know. And public does not include Nana's house." I figured I could live with that, and I was already tucking into my pancakes anyway; so, I nodded. "Oh fay." "Don't talk with your mouth full. Then it's agreed." I'm not ashamed to admit I was stuffed when I finally put down my fork after my third helping. Okay, maybe a little ashamed, but it was really good. Kathy had long since finished and was tidying up. She brought a wet cloth when she came for my plate. "I know I said you wouldn't have to use a bottle, but maybe a bib might have been in order." I looked down and saw a number of places where syrup had dripped on my shirt. I blushed. Kathy chuckled and wiped them off. Then she wiped my face and my hands. She said I could do the dishes. I thanked her, sarcastically, for the privilege, and she gave me a warning look. I laughed. She checked my diaper, which deflated me a little, even though it was dry, and I took up the task. I don't mind washing dishes, especially when it's not many and somebody else did the cooking. The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, other than the diaper checks and changes, our normal Saturday routine. The first was a little traumatic. I felt the urge to pee coming on while I was washing up from breakfast. All the coffee I drank wanted out, but I didn't want to just stand there and wet myself. Kathy noticed my little dance at the sink. She told me I may as well get it over with, because the diaper wasn't coming off until I needed a change. I did manage to hold off until I finished and got out of her sight, but by that time, I was desperate, and it all came out in a rush, and I ended up with a very noticeable leak. Kathy just shook her head with an "I told you so" expression when I went to her but said nothing more about it when she changed me. After that, I didn't resist so much. Sunday was shaping up to be more of the same. Kathy reminded me over breakfast, just cereal and coffee, that I had a big decision to make the next day and asked whether I had thought about it. I told her I had—I'd thought of little else—but hadn't made any decisions. I puttered around the house and spent some time on the computer. Kathy spent a lot of time on the phone. Then we realized we hadn't anything in the fridge to make for dinner. Somebody was going to have to go to the store. Kathy told me to put on something decent; sweats and a t-shirt were not her idea of appropriate shopping attire. "Do I have to go?" "Of course, you have to go. I can't leave a baby home alone." "Can't I stay with Nana?" "No, we've been imposing on her enough. Just get dressed, and stop whining." "But I don't want to go out like this." "You are going out. No one is going to notice. The only question is whether you are going to go with a sore bottom, because I'm this far from spanking you." "Okay. Okay. I'll go." Kathy was right. Despite the fact that grabbing something for dinner turned into a major shopping trip, nobody seemed to notice my condition. All in all, there were no problems, at least until we were on the way home. That's when not pooping for the last couple of days decided to catch up with me. I was really trying to hold out until Monday, when I was sure I could get Kathy to let me use the toilet. No such luck. We were barely out of the grocery store parking lot when the first cramp hit me, hard. I passed some gas and felt better. Kathy cracked her window, and I apologized. A few blocks later, it happened again. It wasn't long before the cramps started coming in waves. I was holding my own, but now I had to pee. I was very uncomfortable and starting to sweat. The last wave passed about the time we pulled in the driveway, and I felt I was home free, if you'll pardon the expression. I got out of the car, and another cramp hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I clamped down hard on my back door but forgot about my bladder. I started to pee. Shaken, I tried to stop that and lost control of my bowels. I was standing in the driveway, filling my pants front and back. I was mortified and scanning the neighborhood to see who might be watching. Kathy rushed me into the house. She took me straight to the bathroom and got my shoes and pants off. No damage was done. She asked me if I was finished, and I admitted I wasn't sure. She told me to stay there; she would unload the car. In the eternity that followed, it turned out to be the right thing to do; I wasn't finished. My diaper was a saggy mess by the time Kathy returned. She held me for a long time and shushed away my attempts to apologize. She had me lie on the floor, and she started a bath. She toughed her way through removing the diaper and a cursory cleaning. She told me to soak while she put the groceries away. I think I was starting to doze when she came back and began washing me. The bath was a tender time, and she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I felt better, and Kathy showed me that dirty diapers or not, she was still interested in me as a husband. I was very content, and probably could have used another bath, by the time she was putting a new diaper on me. The evening passed quietly. Kathy asked me if I might want a bottle before bedtime. I told her that depended on what was in it. She smiled and told me to stay put. She came back a few minutes later with a bottle filled with wine. A baby bottle is not the best way to drink wine. It's really too much at one time, especially when one is being encouraged to drink it all up. The nipple doesn't do anything to improve the flavor. But lying with your head in the lap of your lover while getting quickly inebriated certainly makes up for it. I slept very well that night. Morning came way too early for me. The sun was barely up, and I was having a nice dream. "Get up, honey." I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Kathy pulled them back down. "It's decision day, and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Let's get you changed." Kathy had me sorted quickly and let me have enough coffee to bring the world into focus before starting our discussion. "Sweetheart, it's time," she started. She seemed as hesitant as I felt. "I guess the first question, and the one that kept me up a lot over the last few days, is: do you feel like something is wrong with your body? I mean with your accident yesterday; I have been really worried." "No," I assured her. "I was just hoping I could make it till today. I didn't want to do that in the diaper. If I had been able to use the bathroom, it wouldn't have been a problem." "So, you held your poopies in until you had a big accident in your diaper anyway." "I guess." "Not very mature, was it?" "I suppose not." "So, you feel like you are healthy? Nothing wrong?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's a relief. The bedwetting is one thing. There are lots of reasons that can happen, and we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But it doesn't explain your daytime accidents. Are you sure there's nothing going on inside?" "Yes, I'm fine." "Then why have you been peeing your pants? Can you feel when you need to go?" "Yes." "Does it hurt to go? Are you having a hard time going? Can't you hold it?" "No, no, and no. I'm fine, really." "Then why are you wetting your pants?" She didn't seem concerned anymore, more irritated. "I don't know." "Are you just trying to get my attention? Do you feel like I'm neglecting you?" "No, of course not." "Then what is it? Are you just being lazy?" "I… I don't know." "David, we both know that you can't go around wetting your pants all the time." "It's not all the time." "Don't interrupt. The way I see it, you are just being irresponsible. Like I told you before, if you don't want the responsibility, there are ways I can handle it. But if you want to be a big boy, you have to get a grip on this and stop wetting and pooping your pants right now. You've had all weekend to think about this. There are two choices left. You can be a responsible grown up, or you can be a little boy. So, what's it going to be?" "What happens if I choose to be a grown up?" "I'll expect you to act like a grown up. You look for a new job. Until you find one, you'll be expected to take care of the house. And I will not tolerate wet or poopy pants. There will be consequences, if that happens. That might be spanking you the first few times, but I will not put up with it indefinitely." "You'd leave me?" I asked, visibly scared that she might. "I'm not saying that. I don't plan to; I don't want to. I just can't say it's out of the question. I guess it depends on how hard you push me." "Please, please don't. I don't want to lose you. What about the other choice? What if I was a little boy?" "Sweetheart, I don't want to lose you either. I love you, no matter what you decide. But to answer your question, little boys are different. They can't be expected to be responsible all the time. Little boys have accidents in their pants. That's why they can't wear big boy undies. Mommies understand this. But little boys who wet themselves can't really be trusted to change themselves when they need to, can they? That means that they can't be left alone. They need to be watched to make sure they get changed regularly and don't get diaper rash, which means you'll have to stay with Nana while I'm at work. We have already discussed this, and it's all decided. On the other hand, because you can't expect too much from little boys, they get to play a lot more. Sure, they'll have some chores, but not like a grown up." "You mean I'd have to wear diapers all the time? Could I maybe be a little boy and still wear regular underpants?" "Sweetie, we discussed this. I think it's this half in, half out attitude that is causing your problems. I think that, for right now, you need to be a little boy, that it would be good for you, and that it's what you really want too. But I also think you are fighting it, trying to act like a grownup sometimes and not others. I think you are being pulled between what you want and need, on the one hand, and what you think you should be doing, on the other. I think it's that tension that's causing a lot of your problems. For your own sake, if not for mine, you need to pick one or the other, because not choosing is hurting both of us." "But I don't want to wear diapers all the time." "Don't whine, honey. I've thought about this a lot. I think it would be a lot easier if you did, but if you really don't want to, we can try you in training pants during the day. Nighttime is non-negotiable for now; so is naptime. But understand, your wearing training pants comes with a lot more responsibility for everyone. For you, that would mean telling me or Nana when you have to go potty. No, you cannot just go by yourself. Nana and I will each decide whether you need to be supervised, but I want you to tell us when you have to go, so we can keep track. Nana and I would also be telling you, from time to time, that we want you to sit on the potty and try. You said you are not sick; so, there should be no excuses for having accidents in your training pants. If you do, Nana and I will each decide whether it deserves a spanking. I've already given her permission to spank you for this or any other disobedience. You do not want to find out what will happen if you give her any trouble about it. If you have two accidents in one day, you'll go back to diapers until I decide you are ready to try again. If you can live with those rules and promise to try really hard, we'll try you in training pants for the time being. Nana and I will also decide whether you should be in diapers if we have to take you somewhere, and there won't be any arguments, understand?" "Yes." She looked at me expectantly. "Mommy." "Alright. That's one way to go. Your other choice would be to just wear diapers all the time. You wouldn't have to worry about when you had to go potty. We'll check you and change you when you need it. If you want to make poopies in the potty, you can tell us. Let's face it; changing your dirty diapers is not fun. You don't have to, but you can. But we'll decide whether it's convenient to put you on the potty; so, no whining. We may still tell you to try making peepee in the potty, but you are not to ask. If this is the way you want to go, I want you to relax and not be concerned about keeping your pants dry. Let us worry about them. No one will make a fuss over a wet or dirty diaper; that's what they are there for. You can play or do your chores and not worry about wetting your pants. "So, you have a couple of choices to make, and I need you to make them now. There are no wrong answers here. I love you and will support you whatever you decide. I want you to do what you think is best for you. First, do you want to try being a grownup, or do you want to be a little boy?" I tumbled the alternatives in my brain. I had been contemplating it all weekend but didn't have this new information to work with. Kathy waited patiently, but I caught her checking her watch. "Little boy," I finally gave in. "I really think that's for the best. So, diapers or training pants?" "Can we do training pants, please?" I whined. "Are you sure? You know the consequences, if you start having accidents." I hesitated, asking myself whether I was making the right decision. "Uh huh." "Alright then. You had fair warning; so, you had better not abuse the privilege. Now, I need to get to work. Let's check your diaper." She came around and put her hand on the front. "Still dry. That's fine. Just tell Nana when you need the potty, and she'll put you in your training pants. Now, go get dressed, or I'm going to be late." "I don't get them now?" "I told you before, I'm not wasting perfectly good diapers. Now, go get dressed; or would you prefer to discuss it over my lap?" "I'm going," I sighed. By the time I was back downstairs, Kathy was waiting by the door with, what I could only assume, was my diaper bag. She took me by the hand and led me across the street. Nana opened the door as we approached. "There he is," she sang. "That was a very grown up decision you made. But the last one for a while, hmm? We're going to have lots of fun together while you get all better, okay?" I found myself shyly nodding my head and trying to slip behind Kathy. Kathy defended me, saying, "I guess he's feeling a little shy this morning. Here's his diaper bag. He can help you bring more supplies over after he gets settled in, but that should hold you for now. He still has his diaper on from this morning, but we're going to try him in training pants for a while. We've discussed the rules. He can have his pull-ups after he goes potty. I guess that's it for now. I think we discussed everything over the weekend, but if you run into any difficulties, you have my cell." She kissed my cheek. "Be good for Nana. I don't want any bad reports. I love you, sweetie. Have fun today." She took my hand from hers and gave it to Nana. Then she was off. Nana raised my hand and waved it for me. When Kathy's car was headed down the road, Nana took me inside. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. I told her I ate already. She filled a sippy cup with apple juice anyway. "Why don't you just take that and go play with your trains. We can talk when you're a little more awake, okay?" I was relieved to be off the hook for a while and welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I nodded and headed for the basement. Nana called after me. "Don't forget to come find me when you have to go potty." That caused me to stop and cringe for a second. I guess that was enough acknowledgment for Nana, because she said no more. I blushed and continued on my way. I had planned on brooding over my new life, but once I got started with the trains, all other thoughts left my head. Sometime later, a voice invaded my play. "Davey," it sang. "Davey?" "David! Stop that train." Nana was standing at my shoulder. I cut the power and the train slowed to stop. "You answer when Nana calls you, young man. You've been down here quite a while. I think you had better take a break and sit on the potty, don't you?" Now that she mentioned it, I did, more than I realized. "Uh huh." "Come on then. I'll get you some more juice too." I practically ran up the stairs to the bathroom. She shouted after me to slow down. I was in the bathroom trying to get my pants down when she caught up with me. It was difficult to do while dancing. "Let's get that diaper off." She pushed my hands away and undid the tapes herself. She pulled it from between my legs and pushed me back to sit. A stream hit the water almost immediately. "Just in time, I see. Well, almost in time." There was a small, but not inconsequential wet spot on the diaper. I was mortified. "That's alright. I shouldn't have let you stay down there so long. We won't mention this, okay." I nodded gratefully. "Stay there, and I'll be right back with some dry pants." She wasn't gone long but long enough for me to berate myself for not paying more attention to my bladder. I told her I could dress myself, but she insisted on helping. She suggested we take care of a few chores before lunch. These included going to my house to bring over more supplies. I said I didn't think we needed so many pairs of training pants, and I begged her not to bring the diapers. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, you'll need them for your naps." I didn't plan on taking any naps, but it seemed pointless to argue with her. So, I trudged back across the street with a big cardboard box of what would be my underwear for the foreseeable future. It was lunchtime, and Nana fixed us sandwiches. I was pleased she didn't try to make me wear a bib, but she did insist I use the sippy cup. Afterward, she had more chores for us. True to her word, she frequently asked me if I needed to use the potty, several times insisting that I try. I couldn't tell whether she was smiling or smirking when I produced. Late in the afternoon she suggested I watch TV until my mommy got home. I was happy to oblige. I must have nodded off, because Nana was pulling down my pants. "Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. You're very tired, and I think we should get a diaper on you, just in case." "I'll stay awake, I promise." "Don't worry, honey. It's okay if you don't want to take a nap. Nana will feel much better though, if we put your diaper on. Do you want to use the potty first?" I shook my head. There was no arguing with her. "Alright; if you're sure. We'll just put this on, and you can rest." Safely wrapped up, she let me return to my movie. I didn't see the end. The sun was much lower when I heard Kathy's voice. "I hope he wasn't any trouble today." "Nothing serious dear. I left him to play too long this morning. He mostly made it in the potty. That was my fault, and you shouldn't say anything about it. Otherwise, he was a very good boy, hardly any fuss. He might be a little wet now. He didn't want to use the potty before I put him down for his nap." I stretched, making it known that I was awake and giving me an opportunity to check my pants. I was disappointed to find Nana was right. I was a little wet. "Hi, baby," Kathy beamed, sitting down next to me. "Did you have fun with Nana today?" Other than the trains, I wouldn't have called it fun, but it wasn't bad. "Uh huh." "And were you a good boy for Nana?" I looked up at Mrs. Travers; she was smiling back at me. "Yes, Mommy. I was good." "He sure was. He helped me a lot," Nana praised. I nodded in agreement. "That's my good boy." Kathy hugged me. "But now it's time to get you home and fed. Thank Nana." "Thank you, Nana," I said automatically. I pushed back the blanket she must have covered me with and stood up. Kathy felt my crotch and appeared to come to some decision. She picked up the diaper bag and kissed Nana on the cheek. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. I don't know what I'd do without you. Say bye-bye, Davey." "Bye-bye, Nana. See you tomorrow." "Think nothing of it, Kathy. It's my pleasure. Bye-bye, sweetheart. Maybe we'll make cookies tomorrow. How does that sound?" My face lit up. "Don't get him thinking about cookies. I need to get dinner in him. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning." Kathy took me home and immediately started to take things out for dinner. I tried to help, but she insisted I sit down and tell her about my day. I did and watched her cook while feeling bad that she had worked all day and was now working again. I told her I was going to wash up and use the potty. I couldn't stop calling it that. "It's alright, honey. Just use your diaper. It's already damp, and I'm going to have to change you for bedtime anyway." I sulked back to the bathroom. I wet myself while washing my hands. Dinner was up to Kathy's usual standards. I would have made a pig of myself, if she'd have let me. She left the washing up to me, which alleviated my guilt. Kathy came back as I was drying the last dish. "Okay, baby, bath time." "Already? I don't want to go to bed yet." "I didn't say you had to go to bed, but if you're getting cranky, maybe you should." "No. Sorry." "That's better. Come on then." Bath time was fun. Kathy had picked up some bath toys. It took some encouragement on her part for me to try them out. After pushing a boat around tentatively, she left me alone. Without an audience, it was easier for me to try playing. I was really getting into it when she came back. I didn't want to stop, but she said I was already pruning up, and she needed to get me clean. Her ministrations were fun too. Dried and back in the bedroom, I saw a large cloth diaper on the bed. "Where did that come from?" "I picked those up today," she said, as if she were talking about a new pair of socks. "The lady at the store said they were much more effective for nighttime, especially for side sleepers. She told me they are very comfortable too." I wasn't at all sure about this. Arguing with Kathy is rarely productive, but maybe I could distract her. "But it's still early. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." "It's not that early. You'll be going to bed soon. You may as well get ready now." "But what if I need to pee?" "Well, we'll just have to take it off. Anyway, you just went, and it's not like it would be the first wet diaper you slept in, would it?" "I guess." "Then lay your butt down, so I can get your diaper on, and we can watch TV for a while. Or would you prefer I give you a spanking and put you to bed right now?" I made the only sensible decision. Instead of closing the diaper up right away, Kathy started smearing sticky, white paste on my bottom. "The clerk said it's important to protect against diaper rash when using cloth." Lots of powder followed. Kathy's rubbing everything in overcame any displeasure I had with the experience. All too soon, Kathy brought the front of the diaper up and pinned it in place. She threaded plastic pants over my feet and had me stand up. The cloth diaper—or diapers I should say; there were obviously several—felt entirely different, the plastic pants even more so. The diaper was pleasantly soft, although it inhibited my movements, much like the double disposables had. The plastic pants were scratchy around the openings. They came up well onto my abdomen and ballooned out. They were somewhat stiff and made a soft, almost crackly sound when I moved. I caught sight of myself in Kathy's chevalier mirror. Let's be clear; there is nothing mature looking about a man in an adult diaper, except perhaps the knowledge that old people wear them. However, there is something vaguely clinical about them, and under the right clothes, they are relative discrete. On the other hand, a thick cloth diaper covered by billowing plastic pants is nothing short of infantile. It would take a lot to overcome the impression that the wearer is a big baby who can't control himself. I stared at my reflection for a long time, pondering what I was becoming. "I think you look adorable," Kathy said, hugging me from behind. "Here, let's put your jammies on, and then we can go watch some TV, okay?" I tore my eyes away from the mirror and let Kathy dress me. I was still stunned and had no will to resist. As I walked down the stairs, I felt I was moving as I looked, like a baby. The swaying of my hips and the rustling of the plastic pants confirmed with each step the road I was on. "What's the matter, baby?" Kathy asked when she saw my tears. "That," I said, pointing at the mirror. "That's what's the matter. I'm turning into a baby. What's wrong with me?" "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You're still my big strong man. It's just that you're my adorable little baby too. And I love you so much!" "How can you love me like… this?" "Sweetie, sweetie, I love you like this, or any other way. This is what you need right now. There's nothing wrong with it. You're having a bit of rough patch right now, and we are dealing with it the best way we know how. You're just feeling vulnerable, and that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay; it's attractive." "You find this attractive?" "Yes, I do. You may not realize it, but you have been far more open than you have been in a really long time. I feel I am able to get closer to you than I can remember. You are letting me in on your feelings, where you have been hiding them for years. It feels good to be needed. If what you are wearing helps with all that, I'm more than okay with it. Truth be told, I find the fact that I'm 'in charge' of some things very sexy." As if to prove the point, she snuggled closer and rubbed the front of my pants. She placed my hand on her own crotch, which was noticeably hot and damp. "I love you, baby, and I always will. Now, how about a smile for Mommy? Can you do that? Would you like Mommy's titty? Would that make you feel better?" Let's just say I was feeling much better by the time we went to sleep. Over the next several weeks, after some trial and error, we settled into a routine. Kathy would drop me off at Nana's house. I would have breakfast and some time to wake up with the paper or internet. There'd be some chores to do before lunch. Afterward, I would be put down for a nap. At first, I fought this, but after getting spankings from both Nana and Kathy, I stopped resisting. After my nap, I'd help Nana with whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, it was chores; other times, it was baking or shopping. Then, I had playtime; that usually meant the trains. The reason I disliked the naps, and why I fought them the way I did, was that Nana and Kathy insisted that I be diapered, just in case. That wouldn't have been so bad, but they also insisted that throwing away a dry diaper was just wasteful. I did not get my training pants back until I was wet. I think that contributed to my increasingly frequent naptime wettings. I mostly enjoyed my time with Nana. She was sweet, always made me feel special, and often gave me treats. I was starting to put on weight. The downside was her approach to "toilet training" me. She made me try to use the potty far more frequently than necessary. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it always seemed to be at an inopportune moment, and she insisted on taking me and helping me with my pants. I told her I could just go myself, but she would have none of it. She said she had to make sure I hadn't had an accident and that I did something in the toilet. If I didn't produce, the look of disappointment on her face was deeply disheartening. If several attempts did not result in anything, she would make be sit there until something happened. She would get very cross and tell me she was not going to let me wet my pants just because I was too lazy or obstinate to use the potty like a big boy. My protests that she was just making me try too often, and that I always made when I asked to use the potty, fell on deaf ears. This poor timing came to a head one day when I was playing with the trains. I had been very wet after my nap, and Nana made me use the potty a couple of times while doing my chores. I didn't need to go when she took me up a while into my playtime. About fifteen minutes after she let me go downstairs, I started to feel the urge. I was sure she would be back to get me soon, as that had become the pattern. She didn't, and I continued play as my bladder became more insistent. I was getting toward the point of desperation when I went to find Nana and tell I needed the potty. I found her on the phone. I stood and watched her until she took notice of me. She excused herself and covered the mouthpiece. She asked me what I wanted, and I told her of my need. "I just took you a few minutes ago." "I didn't need to go then." "If that's true, you shouldn't need to go that badly now. I'll be with you when I'm off the phone. Go play." "Sorry, about that," she said into the receiver. "I'm watching the neighbor's boy, and he wanted my attention. ... He says he needs to go potty, but I just took him five minutes ago.… No, no, I'm sure he can hold it for a couple of minutes. He needs to learn that he can't just go the moment he feels like it.… Yes, boys are always more difficult to train.… Ha, ha, ha, yes, men too. Davey, go play. I'll be with you as soon as I'm off the phone." I ducked back downstairs, muttering to myself that it had been a lot more than five minutes, and she should have just let me go by myself. I tried to play some more, but my need was growing stronger. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs and making gestures to indicate that time was of the essence. She wasn't paying attention. "Nana," I whispered. Nothing. "Nana," I said a little louder. "Nana," I whined, louder still and fearful I would be heard over the phone. "Davey, don't interrupt. I told you I would be right with you. If you can't behave yourself, you can go stand in the corner. Go on, march." Her look left no doubt that she was serious. I stomped my foot and went to the corner the indicated. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Her conversation went on and on. It wasn't long before I was clutching myself and shifting from foot to foot. "What? Yours too? I guess you had better be going. Goodbye, Debbie. Give my love to Tony." She must have been talking to her daughter-in-law. She hung up the phone and walked up behind me. She gave a hard swat to my behind. That was more than I could take, and a large squirt erupted into my training pants. "David, I'm very disappointed in you. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt when someone is on the phone? I bet you don't interrupt your Mommy when she's on the phone, do you?" "No," I conceded. "But…" "But nothing. Whatever it was could have waited. I told you I wasn't going to be long." "But I had to go potty," I whined. "You're a big boy, you can hold it for a couple of minutes, can't you?" "Yeah," I said tentatively. "Let's get you to the potty then," she sighed. Once in the bathroom, I started to undo my pants. I was really hoping she would go away. Instead, she brushed my hands away and took over. "David! How could you? You said you could hold it. I thought you were a big boy." "I am. I can. But… you spanked me." "That little slap on the tushy? That's your excuse? Well, we'll just see about that. I'll show you what a real spanking is, after you finish on the potty. If there's anything left, that is." She pushed me down firmly onto the seat and, much to my embarrassment, pushed my pee pee down between my legs for me. She would usually leave me alone to do my business, but not this time. She hovered, glaring at me and tapping her foot. I forced myself to overcome my bladder shyness and peed a still considerable amount. I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement coming on, but with Nana standing there, it wasn't going to happen. When she decided it was done, grabbed my wrist, pulled me up, flushed the toilet, and dragged me to her room with my pants still around my ankles. She grabbed a hairbrush off her dresser and sat down on her bed. I was over her knees in a trice. She put the hairbrush to work right away and had me blubbering out excuses, apologies, and promises before I could think. She kept up a steady barrage of scolding. "I just can't believe it, a big boy like you, interrupting me on the phone, peeing his pants, blaming it on one little slap, can't wait a couple of minutes to use the potty. I've known toddlers better behaved. Just wait till your Mommy hears about this. I'm sure she won't be happy. I can tell you this. You' won't be wetting your pants again in my house, not today. You're going right back into diapers where you belong." I'm not sure those were her exact words, but they were the gist of it. I'm not even sure she heard my protests that I tried, and she was a lot longer than a couple of minutes on the phone. I hadn't realized she stopped when she made me stand up and dragged me to the room I napped in. She pushed me down on the bed and got a diaper out. My blazing behind was wrapped up before I knew, and she was telling me I would be staying in bed the rest of the afternoon. "And if I hear one peep out of you, you'll think that spanking was playing pat-a-cake." She left me sobbing, while she muttered about the earful my mommy was going to get later. I willed myself to sleep, anything to avoid thoughts of what Mommy was going to say when she got there. I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder, drawing me back to the land of the living. I was grateful to escape my troubled dreams, but when I saw Mommy sitting beside me, my eyes began to fill with tears again. I opened my mouth to beg her forgiveness, but she placed a finger over my lips. "Not now, sweetie. We'll talk about it when we get home." She helped me to sit up and put on some pants. "Let's get you home and fed, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?" She didn't seem mad. That worried me. It wasn't like Kathy to restrain her feelings, and when she did, it usually resulted in a real blowout. She took my hand and led me downstairs. I followed with trepidation. Nana was waiting. She appeared considerably calmer too. I didn't understand, but I was not unhappy when she gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, with promises to see me tomorrow. Kathy was crossing the street leisurely, but my stress level went up with every step closer to our house. I was sure she would lower the boom as soon as we were behind closed doors. Instead, she pulled me into an embrace and rocked me. Without letting go, she made a quick diaper check and announced I would be fine until after supper. She took me into the kitchen and had me sit, while she prepared our meal. I asked if I could help, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was a simple supper, which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sweetie, about what happened at Nana's today," she began. Here it comes, I thought. "Nana wanted me to apologize for her getting so upset with you. After she put you down and had time to think, she realized that she really was talking for a long time, and she should have listened to you and taken you to the potty sooner." "If she'd just let me go by myself…" "Shh. It's okay. We know you are having trouble making it to the potty in time, and we shouldn't keep you waiting." "But I can," I protested. "Honey, are your pants wet now?" Without thinking, I put my hands to my crotch, and blushed when I felt the squish. "Come here, baby." I stood and walked around to her. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down. She squeezed the front of my diaper and looked at me. "Sweetie, you are more wet than when I got you up from your nap. Did you know that?" I didn't, and I felt another cry coming on. "There, there, sweetheart. Don't worry. Mommy's not mad. I know you can't help it. I think your worrying about keeping your pants dry is getting to be too much for you. You're just not ready yet." "I am," I whined. "No, honey, I don't think so. That's why Mommy got you some new diapers today. They're cloth and have Velcro. You'll be able to feel if you wet them, and Nana will be able to get them off in a hurry if she has to. I don't want you to worry about making it to the potty in time. Nana will take you when she thinks you should try, but if you wet your diaper, nobody is going to be mad. No more spankings for wet pants, doesn't that sound good?" Something in her logic felt wrong, but I found myself nodding in agreement. "We can try potty training again after a while, but for right now, I want you to relax and not think about it, okay? You just play and help Nana and Mommy when we ask. Will you do that for Mommy?" Kathy was being so nice about the whole thing, I just sniffled and nodded my ascent. She stood up and drew me into a hug that I could have stayed in forever. "Let's get you a nice tubby and then you can go night-night, okay?" Do I have to? by nautybaby ©2019-2024

Meet Alice. An 19 years old college girl who, recently has been having some troubles with a slightly leaky bladder. Regular bathroom trips have frustratingly become the norm for her in recent times, as well as frequent sudden urges to go. Which when you're often stuck in a 90 minute class can be a problem.... The last thing she ever expected at her age was to be worried about peeing herself in class, it's the sort of thing she would of happily teased someone other unfortunate student for, but the reality is that the cute college chick now finds herself terrified that with her seemingly misbehaving bladder, she might end up doing what in her mind, would probably totally destroy her all so-important social life. Yesterday was the final straw. She had struggled with every fibre in her body to hold it until the end of class, trying desperately hard not to make her predicament obvious to the rest of her class, as she fought against her throbbing weak bladder. The only way she held it was to constantly remind herself of just how much it would ruin her life if she peed herself in front of everyone. Alice hated History any way, she didn't even know why she picked it. That stupid teacher Mr Slater would never let her leave from the moment the class started. Perhaps because of his perceived perception of her as being one of the more rebellious students in his class, which to be fair to him was probably justified. It was seemingly his way of trying to teach her some much needed discipline... The second her class was dismissed Alice literally ran down the hallway, barging past people. There were a few chuckles as some students noticed the pretty girl clutching between her legs. Eventually she made it into the girls toilets where she charged into one of the cubicles, however before she could even lock the door, or pull down her panties, her baby-like bladder decided to let go...... She stood frozen on the spot only a mere few inches away from the toilet , as if to add insult to injury, as she helplessly let out a huge gasp which was followed by a torrent of uncontrollable pee which gushed out from beneath her pleated skirt, quickly forming a large puddle which spread outside of the cubicle She felt like an embarrassed, un-potty trained child as the reality of what she had done set in, causing her make-up covered cheeks to instantly burn red. The puddle was huge, and there would be no mistaking what it was if someone came in and saw her stood there.. "No no no this can't be fucking happening" shouted the distraught girl as she looked at what she'd done, completely oblivious that she wasn't alone.... She soon heard some giggles from the stall next to her.....her heart instantly skipped a beat as a feeling of dread rushed through her....... In her desperate rush she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed there was someone in the next stall..... Whoever was in there obviously knew about Alice's accident. To be fair no one could of missed the sound of her pee hitting the floor though. It had been like someone putting a tap on full power and left it running for about 20 seconds... Looking down Alice almost died when she saw her accident had crept under the partition wall and into the cubicle the other girl was in...... Knowing now that the girl could potentially ruin her if she knew who she was, Alice, in a complete panic thought hard about what to do. Then she heard a voice.... "Oh dear looks like someone needs some pampers, did Mommy not put one on you this morning little one?" came the condescending voice of the laughing girl Alice fought hard to hold back the tears in her eyes.... Judging by the horrible rough voice the cruel words had been spoken in, Alice thought she recognised the voice as a girl called Lisa Phillips. This was bad news. She was a rather large girl known not to be backward in coming forward. Probably something to do with her own shortcomings, she wasn't afraid to try and bring other people down if she had a chance. If she found out it was Alice, she knew news of her accident would be common knowledge by tomorrow morning.... She decided that she now had two options.. 1. Wait it out until Lisa leaves and hope to god she doesn't wait for her outside or go and get her friends..... which knowing her would probably be extremely wishful thinking... Or 2. Just grab her bag and get the hell out of there before Lisa has a chance to come out of the cubicle and see her..... A concerned Alice examined her skirt realising to her surprise it was pretty much dry, and her shoes had also avoided being soaked. Visually she felt relieved there were actually no signs of her having just peed herself. She knew her expensive blue Victoria's Secret panties were obviously completely soaked, but no one need ever to know about that. She would just stick them straight in the washing machine when she got home. Suddenly, panic set in...........as she heard a click from the stall next to her. Meaning the cubicle door had been unlocked......... Without any time to think, Alice knew she had to act quickly. She grabbed her bag, swung the cubicle door open and ran, with her hands on her head to cover her face.... She bolted for the exit door trying to catch Lisa by surprise, who hadn't expected her to quickly run away. She managed to catch a glimpse of the running Alice from the side and back as she saw her dash for the door, with the girls hands trying to cover her face and her dark brunette coloured hair flying all over the place.... Alice quickly made herself disappear into the crowds, as the toilets were fortunately situated right by the college main entrance, and thankfully it was now home time, meaning what looked like half the college were either stood waiting for friends or headed home for the day.... Lisa charged out of the toilets hoping to get a better look at who the panty pisser was but felt disappointed to be met with nothing but crowds of students walking about.... The question is, did she, or did she not get a good enough look to know which college girl had just had a little pee pee accident?

Here we go again. As I had just started writing my first story ever (Whispers in the Dark), I already learned a ton. While I still uses crutches (AI), I thought I could already use what I've learned with Whispers in the Dark and apply it to a new, more thought out story. This one is already mostly outlined, has longer chapters and a completely different theme to it. I will still continue Whispers in the Dark of course, but while that one is only roughly planned in my head, this new one is fully planned out on paper. Except for one wetting scene, the build up is rather slow, but it will be worth it. I have a lot planned for this story. You can view the first 3 chapters as some kind of very long prologue. Let me know what you think! Under Pressure Innocence in the Shadow of Power Chapter 1 - Birthday Under the soothing rush of the shower, I felt the weight of today pressing down on me. It was a pivotal moment, the divide between the life I'd grown accustomed to and the uncertain horizon ahead. Each droplet mingling with my tears seemed to underscore the harsh reality: I was saying goodbye to the comfort of my tiny apartment, facing the daunting prospect of nowhere to belong. "Happy birthday, Feli," I murmured to my reflection as I emerged from the steam. Felicity von Sterntal—that's my full name. The "von" part adds a touch of German flair, a nod to nobility, though our family's far from royal. My grandparents, German immigrants who made their way to the USA in the 60s, christened me with the nickname "Feli," though it's pronounced more like "Fehly." I never really knew them, as they passed when I was just a baby. Still, I've grown fond of my name. It's distinct, and it ties me to something, even if it's just the echoes of the past. Drawing upon every bit of strength I could muster, I willed a smile onto my lips, hoping to cloak the uncertainty gnawing at my core. The girl in the mirror, barely reaching five feet tall, her deep blue eyes framed by unruly black hair cascading down to her mid-back, reflected my forced composure. Despite my 18 years, she seemed more like a lost teenager navigating the tumult of adolescence rather than on the brink of adulthood. As I locked eyes with her, the facade faltered, exposing the raw loneliness lurking beneath the surface. She lacked the confidence she sought to project. Stepping into my living room—well, my only room—a wave of sadness engulfed me. Today marked the end of calling this place home. Glancing around, memories flooded back, stirring up a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. In one corner stood my tiny kitchen, equipped with just the basics: stove, sink, fridge, and microwave. It had witnessed its fair share of culinary experiments and mishaps. Opposite the kitchen, my bed nestled into another corner, its modest size a testament to the limited space. Despite its smallness, it had cradled me through countless nights of rest and contemplation. Across from the bed, my desk stood, once housing my PC which I'd already packed away. It had been my sanctuary for studying and coding, a space of productivity and focus. And lots and lots of gaming. Now, everything else was neatly packed in boxes, except for my trusty backpack holding the essentials: phone, laptop, and a few changes of clothes. As I surveyed the remnants of my life here, a shroud of uncertainty settled over my thoughts. I scooped up the final crumbs of cereal from the box, a stark reminder of dwindling supplies in my modest kitchen. With a sigh, I sank into the worn chair at my desk, spoon in hand, and retrieved the letter once more. Its contents had been etched into my memory since its arrival on the day of my high school graduation, just weeks ago. As I savored the last bites of cereal, I read over the letter one last time. Dear Felicity, We hope this letter finds you well. It is with careful consideration that your mother and I have reached a decision regarding your financial support. As you have successfully completed your high school education and are soon to reach the age of majority, we believe it is appropriate to adjust our financial arrangements accordingly. Regrettably, we must inform you that, effective immediately, we will no longer be providing you with financial assistance, including your allowance. Furthermore, in light of your impending 18th birthday, arrangements have been made for movers to assist you in vacating the apartment that we have provided for you. We view this transition as a gesture of our support and encouragement as you embark on the next chapter of your life. Please be prepared to surrender your keys to the designated representative upon their arrival. With warm regards, Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal It was a cruel slap in the face, a harsh reminder of my parents' indifference, their decision to cut off the last lifeline of financial support right on the brink of my adulthood. As I absorbed the cold, impersonal words of the letter, a surge of anger and resentment boiled within me. This wasn't just about money; it was a final abandonment, a deliberate shove into the abyss of independence. The memory of how I came to live in this apartment at such a young age flooded back, stirring up a blend of bitterness and resignation. My parents, consumed by their careers and absent from my life, had effectively abandoned their parental duties when I was just fifteen. Their presence had never been significant anyway; nannies had filled the void left by their absence, their faces blending into a blur of caretakers who had come and gone over the years. Despite their neglect, the apartment had provided a semblance of stability in a chaotic world. It was my sanctuary, my own space amidst the turmoil. And now, as they callously stripped away even that small comfort, I couldn't help but feel bitterness at the injustice of it all. With a heavy heart, I folded the letter and set it aside, its implications casting a palpable weight in the air. The cereal in my bowl had lost its appeal, each spoonful a bitter reminder of the uncertainty looming ahead. As the minutes stretched on, I pondered the cruel irony of their supposed "birthday gift," a gesture tinged with spite rather than kindness. And as the harsh reality of my situation settled in, I steeled myself for the turbulent road ahead, resolved to carve out my own path despite the hurdles in my way. As the doorbell shattered the quiet of my apartment, I braced myself for the inevitable. With a steadying breath, I crossed the room and swung open the door, greeted by the stern gaze of a man in his mid-fifties, dressed in a somber suit. His presence filled the doorway, a forewarning of the chaos awaiting me. Introducing himself as a representative of the von Sterntal family, a bitter irony settled over me at the shared surname, a reminder of the tangled connections binding me to this tumultuous moment. Behind him, a group of movers stood with downcast expressions, their sympathetic glances betraying their discomfort at being complicit in my forced eviction. It seemed they had been briefed on the situation, their professional demeanor tinged with a touch of empathy. "Miss von Sterntal," the representative began, his voice laced with formality. "I assume you're aware of the purpose of our visit," he continued, his gaze drifting to the neatly packed boxes scattered throughout the apartment, silent witnesses to the impending upheaval. I simply nodded, the lump in my throat stifling any words that threatened to escape. "Very well," he said briskly, his tone businesslike. "If you could just sign here and hand over the keys, we'll take care of the rest." His smile carried a hint of reassurance, emphasizing that the movers' services came without cost to me. With a resigned acceptance, I took the document and signed it, my signature a stark acknowledgment of my departure from the property. Handing over the keys, I watched as the movers sprang into action, loading my belongings into the waiting truck. It was a transaction devoid of choice, a forced relinquishment of my home, as I stood by, a silent witness to the unraveling of my life. As the movers finished loading my belongings, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, the only link to the life I was leaving behind. With a final click, the representative locked the door, marking the end of an era. As we headed towards the waiting truck, he spoke up once more, offering me a semblance of choice amidst the chaos. "The movers will take you wherever you want," he said, his words a small act of kindness in the midst of turmoil. And just before we parted ways, he added, "Oh, and Miss von Sterntal, happy birthday by the way." His well-wishes hung in the air, a bitter reminder of the cruel twist of fate that marked the day. With a handshake and a farewell, he left me standing there, the taste of bitterness lingering. As the truck pulled away, carrying me towards an uncertain future, I couldn't help but resent the hollow birthday wishes, a stark reminder of the emptiness awaiting me. I directed the movers towards a storage unit I had booked online for a week, a temporary sanctuary for the fragments of my past life. It was a pragmatic solution, born from necessity with the scant funds left to me by my parents. As we navigated the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't shake off the irony of my circumstances. Despite being the offspring of the private owners and executives of a multi-billion-dollar tech empire nestled in the heart of NYC, their generosity towards me had always been in short supply. Their reminders of my status as their "accident" reverberated in my thoughts, a persistent reminder of my position on the fringes of their world. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that despite their wealth and influence, I was little more than an inconvenience to them. And as we unloaded the remnants of my former life into the storage unit, I felt the weight of their neglect bearing down on me, a burden I carried with me into an uncertain future. As the movers drove off, leaving me to face the stark reality of my situation, I gazed at the orderly array of boxes in the storage unit. Each one contained memories and possessions, now symbolizing the entirety of my existence. This was it – my entire life condensed into a confined space, a tangible manifestation of the upheaval that had swept through my world in a single day. Overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, I sank to the ground, tears streaming down my cheeks as emotions flooded over me. Time seemed to blur as I sat amidst my belongings, the weight of my newfound homelessness crashing down on me in relentless waves. In that moment of vulnerability, every suppressed feeling from the day – the abandonment, the betrayal, the uncertainty – converged, drowning me in a torrent of despair. I couldn't tell how long I stayed there, lost in the abyss of my anguish. All I knew was that this was my reality now – adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with nowhere to call home. As I closed the storage unit, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, mingling with the chill of the morning air. My backpack felt like a lifeline, its weight a reminder of the few possessions I still possessed. While my plans for the days ahead seemed meager, tinged with a sense of futility, I trudged along the bustling streets of New York City. Each step carried the weight of uncertainty, a burden I had grown accustomed to bearing alone. As I rounded a corner, my gaze inevitably fell upon the towering silhouette of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper, its imposing presence etched into the city skyline. I knew every facet of that building all too well, a monument to the wealth and success my parents had achieved. Yet, it also symbolized the stark divide between their world of privilege and my own neglected existence. High above, on the top floor, lay the domain of Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal, my parents, seemingly peering down on me from their ivory tower. The shadow cast by their empire seemed to mirror the shadow they had cast over my life, leaving me in the darkness of their neglect. Shaking my head to dispel the troubling thoughts, I stepped into the warmth of a nearby cafe, seeking refuge from the chill of the city streets. Dwelling on the weight of my circumstances was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment; practical matters demanded my attention. With each passing moment, the reality of my situation loomed larger—I didn't even have a place to rest my head for the night. The uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling a sense of urgency as I scanned the bustling cafe for a temporary respite from my troubles. Choosing a solitary spot by the expansive window, I couldn't help but feel drawn to the lone chair stationed beside the table. It seemed to mirror my own isolation, a silent companion in the midst of a crowded cafe. As I settled into the seat, I signaled the server and placed an order for a simple tea, mindful of my dwindling funds. The price felt steep for such a basic beverage, but I knew the cost was necessary to gain access to the cafe's WiFi—a lifeline in my current predicament. With a sense of resolve, I awaited my order, hoping that the warmth of the tea would offer some solace amidst the uncertainty of my circumstances. Taking a cautious sip of the steaming tea, I set my laptop upon the table and powered it up, the soft glow of the screen casting a comforting light in the dimly lit cafe. With a sense of determination, I delved into the task at hand, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I navigated through job listings and online applications. The simplicity of my plan belied the daunting reality of my situation—I was an 18-year-old with only a high school diploma, adrift in the competitive landscape of New York City's job market. Yet, despite the odds stacked against me, I poured all my energy into the search, knowing that every opportunity seized could mean the difference between survival and succumbing to the shadows of my circumstances. As I sifted through yet another round of discouraging rejection emails flooding my inbox, my focus was abruptly shattered by the boisterous entrance of a man engaged in a heated phone conversation. His voice carried above the ambient chatter of the cafe, drawing the attention of patrons with its intensity. Despite my initial reluctance to eavesdrop, I found myself inadvertently tuning in to his conversation, snippets of disdain toward a VIP client punctuating the air. Intrigued, I observed him as he made his way to the counter, his animated gestures betraying the gravity of his conversation. With a sense of curiosity, I couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of his world, momentarily distracted from the weight of my own struggles by the drama unfolding before me. Feigning engrossment in my laptop screen, I diverted my gaze as the man collected his coffee and turned in my direction. Discomfort prickled at the edges of my consciousness; I loathed the idea of being caught staring, a violation of the unspoken etiquette of public spaces. With practiced nonchalance, I buried myself in the facade of productivity, my fingers tracing absent patterns on the keyboard as I scrolled through meaningless content. As the man fell silent, a fleeting sense of dread coiled within me, only to be shattered by the resumption of his conversation moments later. Relief washed over me as he departed the cafe without so much as a second glance in my direction, leaving me to exhale a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The brief encounter served as a stark reminder of the delicate balance between privacy and observation in the bustling landscape of city life. As the hours slipped away, so too did the fragile tendrils of hope that had buoyed my spirits earlier in the day. Despite my best efforts, the job search yielded little more than a string of rejections, each one serving as a stark reminder of the uphill battle I faced in securing employment. With a heavy heart, I conceded to the reality of the situation—I had made little progress, and time was slipping away. Gathering my belongings and tucking my laptop securely into my backpack, I steeled myself for the next hurdle: finding shelter for the night. The uncertainty loomed large, casting a shadow over my already precarious existence, but I refused to succumb to despair. With determination fueling my steps, I pushed open the door of the cafe and stepped back out into the bustling streets of New York City. With a bag of chips clasped tightly in my hand, I embarked on a solitary journey through the labyrinth of city streets, my footsteps echoing against the pavement as I wandered aimlessly. The neon glow of storefronts illuminated the impending darkness, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the concrete. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, a constant reminder of the meager sustenance I had managed to scrounge up for dinner. Yet, as I roamed the unfamiliar terrain, a sense of helplessness washed over me, amplifying the weight of my circumstances. The prospect of renting a room or even a bed felt like an impossible luxury, far beyond the reach of my limited means. Lost in the sea of uncertainty, I struggled to discern a path forward, the cityscape looming around me like an insurmountable obstacle. Sitting down heavily on a bench, I sought solace in the simple act of munching on the salt-flavored chips, their flavor resembling the silent tears tracing paths down my cheeks. As I gazed into the distance, my eyes inevitably landed on the looming presence of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper once again, its towering silhouette a constant reminder of my own inadequacy in the shadow of my parents' success. A surge of defiance rose within me, driving me to shake off the suffocating weight of helplessness that threatened to engulf me. With a resolute shake of my head, I refused to surrender to despair. Pushing myself upright, I continued to scour the streets for any glimmer of hope, a beacon amidst the darkness that threatened to consume me whole. Rounding a corner, my weary eyes alighted upon a surprisingly pristine alleyway nestled beside the imposing facade of a law firm. Shielded from the harsh gaze of the bustling street and buffered from the relentless gusts of wind that swept through the city, the alley offered a semblance of respite amidst the chaos of urban life. With darkness descending upon the cityscape and exhaustion weighing heavy upon my shoulders, I knew that this secluded alcove would have to suffice for the night. Despite the pang of discomfort that gnawed at my conscience, I resolved to make the best of the situation, clinging to the fleeting sense of security offered by the sheltered confines of the alleyway. With a weary sigh, I nestled against the unyielding coolness of the concrete wall, my jacket wrapped tightly around me in a feeble attempt to stave off the chill of the night air. Clutching my backpack to my chest like a lifeline, I sought solace in the familiar weight of my belongings, their presence a source of comfort amidst the uncertainty that loomed around me. As exhaustion weighed heavy upon my eyelids, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the cacophony of the city fading into the background as I surrendered to the oblivion of slumber. In the solitude of the alleyway, I found a fleeting sense of peace, a respite from the trials and tribulations that had plagued me throughout the day. And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the moonlight, I surrendered myself to the darkness, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of dreams. Chapter 2 - John I woke up to the raucous symphony of the waking city, my body stiff and sore from the uncomfortable concrete floor of the alley. The cold seeped into my bones, a reminder of the unforgiving night that had passed. Determination surged within me as I made a mental note to invest in a sleeping bag, albeit a budget-friendly one. Luxury was a distant concept now. Every expense had to be carefully weighed against necessity, but not freezing to death seemed necessary enough. The distant rumble of a garbage truck echoed down the street, prompting me to glance towards the nearby dumpster that had offered me some semblance of privacy throughout the night. Taking it as my cue to depart, I pushed myself up from the cold concrete, aching muscles protesting the movement. With a determined resolve, I reaffirmed my plan for the day, the same as yesterday, unaltered despite the discomforts of the night. With my trusty backpack snug against my back, I traversed the bustling streets, a lone figure amidst the throngs of morning commuters. The aroma of freshly baked goods wafted from a nearby bakery, tempting me with its promise of sustenance. Yielding to the growling protest of my stomach, I indulged in a modest yet satisfying sandwich, procured with the meager funds at my disposal. Satiated, albeit temporarily, I continued on my journey, guided by a sense of familiarity towards the same cafe that had become my refuge the day before. Entering the cafe, I was greeted by a comforting wave of warmth and the familiar aroma of brewing coffee. It felt like a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my current circumstances. Glancing over to the corner where I had sat the day before, I breathed a sigh of relief to find it still vacant, my spot waiting for me like an old friend. With a sense of quiet determination, I settled into the familiar surroundings, ordering another one of the overpriced teas that had become a guilty pleasure amidst my frugality. Opening my laptop, I delved once more into the relentless task of scouring job listings, navigating the virtual labyrinth in search of a beacon of hope amidst the sea of rejections. It was a bitter irony that plagued my thoughts as I sifted through the digital landscape of job postings. The online forums, where praise flowed freely for my coding prowess, seemed worlds apart from the harsh reality of my current situation. Despite being self-taught and garnering accolades from virtual strangers, I had faltered in monetizing my skills, relegating them to the realm of mere hobbyism. Coding and gaming had long served as my refuge, a sanctuary from the tumultuous years of high school and the suffocating grip of loneliness. Yet, as I now grappled with the daunting task of securing employment to sustain myself, the weight of my perceived failure pressed down upon me like a suffocating blanket. If only my parents had told me sooner, I would’ve probably had something figured out by now. Lost in the labyrinth of my own thoughts, I found myself gazing absently out the window, the passing scenery a blur against the canvas of my mind. It was then that I noticed the familiar figure of the man from the day before, striding purposefully towards the entrance of the cafe. A pang of apprehension gripped me, prompting a swift diversion of my attention back to the glowing screen of my laptop. Tuning in to the ambient sounds of the cafe, I couldn't help but overhear his order, a simple request for a coffee to go, mirroring his routine from the previous day. A subtle sense of curiosity stirred within me, mingling with a tinge of unease as I pondered the significance of his presence once more. As I remained engrossed in my task of scouring job listings and dispatching applications into the digital void, the absence of the man's departure did not escape my notice. Despite his initial intention of ordering a coffee to go, the distinct lack of movement behind me hinted at his lingering presence within the confines of the cafe. Resolutely keeping my focus trained on the flickering glow of my laptop screen, I resisted the temptation to steal a glance over my shoulder, preferring to remain ensconced in my own world. Time drifted by in the steady rhythm of keystrokes and mouse clicks, punctuated only by the murmurs of other patrons and the occasional clink of ceramic against tabletops. It wasn't until a considerable while later that I observed his departure from the corner of my eye, his enigmatic presence departing as quietly as it had arrived. A fleeting curiosity stirred within me, fleeting thoughts of his peculiar aura and expensive attire crossing my mind before swiftly dissipating amidst the urgency of my own endeavors. As the day wore on and my focus waned, I made the decision to call it quits, at least for the time being. With a newfound determination fueled by a semblance of planning, I bid farewell to the comforting confines of the cafe and ventured back out into the bustling streets. Remembering the necessity of securing a sleeping bag for the impending night, I retraced my steps to the store I had spotted that morning. Scanning the shelves for the most budget-friendly option, I finally settled on the cheapest offering. Though it offered no protection against dampness, it was a small comfort knowing that it would stave off the biting cold, leaving me with enough funds to sustain myself with nourishment for a few more days to come. With a sense of resignation gnawing at my insides, I purchased another bag of chips, though acutely aware of their meager nutritional value. As I trudged back towards the alley that had become my makeshift refuge, I couldn't help but cast a glance towards the towering spire that housed my parents' corporate empire. Biting down on a chip, the taste a bitter reminder of my circumstances, I felt a surge of despair welling within me. The sight of their skyscraper loomed over me like a mocking specter, a constant reminder of the chasm that separated us, both physically and emotionally. With clenched teeth and a fervent hope burning within my chest, I prayed that this dismal routine would soon become nothing more than a painful memory of a bygone era. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the biting chill of the night descended upon the city, I nestled into the familiarity of my chosen spot within the alley. With the thin barrier of the sleeping bag offering a modicum of warmth, I settled down, leaning against my backpack for a semblance of comfort. Tears welled in my eyes, tracing silent pathways down my cheeks, as the crushing weight of my predicament enveloped me once more. In the darkness, surrounded by the echoes of solitude, I felt the suffocating embrace of hopelessness tighten its grip around my heart. Yet, amidst the despair, a flicker of determination burned within me, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the engulfing darkness. Clinging to that glimmer of resilience like a lifeline, I vowed silently to myself that I would not succumb, that I would persevere against the odds, no matter how insurmountable they seemed. For in the depths of my despair, I found a resolve that whispered fiercely in the silence: I could not give up. I would not give up. As I stirred from my fitful slumber, the city had already sprung to life around me, its bustling energy a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the alley. Despite the persistent ache that clung to my body like a lingering shadow, I couldn't help but acknowledge the small comfort afforded by the sleeping bag wrapped around me. Unlike the previous night, the shivers that had plagued me were noticeably absent. The sleeping bag had proven to be a worthwhile investment. With a weary yet grateful sigh, I rose to my feet and carefully packed up my sleeping bag, folding it neatly as I prepared to face another day. Embracing the familiarity of my newfound routine, I steeled myself for the challenges that lay ahead. As I retraced the familiar steps of my routine, grabbing the same sandwich from the same bakery and making my way to the same cafe, I couldn't help but marvel at the swiftness with which humans could fall into patterns. Yet, upon entering the cafe, the comfort of routine shattered in an instant. Seated at my usual spot in front of the window, in the corner, was the enigmatic man who had piqued my curiosity the days before. His gaze was fixed out the window, lost in thought as he sipped on his coffee. A sense of intrigue tinged with apprehension washed over me as I hesitated in the doorway, uncertain of how to proceed in the wake of this unexpected disruption to my routine. With a resentful glance at the man's back, I took a seat behind him, my frustration simmering beneath the surface as I ordered my tea and opened my laptop to resume my job hunt. Sighing heavily, I couldn't help but feel the weight of disappointment as I sifted through the slew of new rejections that had flooded my inbox. Another day stretching out before me, seemingly destined to end in the same vein of fruitless endeavors and dashed hopes. Lost in the rhythm of typing out applications, I was jolted from my focus by the subtle stirrings of the man in front of me. Ignoring the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the screen, hoping to avoid any unwanted interactions. Yet, despite my efforts to feign indifference, I could sense his probing gaze boring into me, a silent weight that I could no longer ignore. After what felt like an eternity of silent scrutiny, I relented, lifting my eyes from the screen to meet his gaze. To my surprise, he had moved closer, now sitting directly in front of me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Hi, I'm John," he said, extending a hand in greeting, but I remained rigid, my gaze locked in a glare, still nursing my resentment for his disruption of my routine. His attempt at cordiality was met with my silent rebuke. "All right, all right," he continued, his tone laced with a hint of apology, "I apologize for taking your spot, but I needed an excuse to talk to you." His words hung in the air, punctuated by the weight of his admission. Despite my lingering irritation, a flicker of curiosity sparked within me, compelling me to lower my guard ever so slightly. "That's a pretty bad excuse," I retorted sharply, my glare unwavering as I remained guarded. "Yeah, probably," he chuckled in response, his admission punctuated by a hint of self-awareness. Yet, before I could respond further, he continued, his demeanor shifting to a more serious tone. "Anyway, I wanted to make you an offer," he stated, his eyes appraising me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "And I think you'd be perfect for this." Despite my lingering apprehension, the mention of an offer piqued my curiosity, stirring a mixture of intrigue and caution within me. His lingering gaze, however, remained a discomforting reminder of the unease that still lingered between us. "What kind of offer?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as he smirked in response, a gesture that already grated on my nerves. "It's something I can't talk about in detail here, but it will be very profitable for you and you seem perfect for this," he replied, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made me uneasy. He jotted down his phone number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table before standing up. "I bet you could really use some money right now," he remarked, his eyes trailing over to my backpack and sleeping bag beside me, sending a chill down my spine. As he made his exit from the cafe, he spoke once more, his parting words hanging in the air like a weight upon my shoulders. "Give me a ring, Miss von Sterntal," he said, the mention of my name sending a jolt of mortification through me. I watched in silence as he left the cafe, his words echoing in my mind, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in their wake. As I sat there, grappling with the unsettling revelation that dawned upon me, I pieced together the puzzle in my mind. He had been watching me, studying my every move. Perhaps he had glanced over my shoulder yesterday, observing the desperation with which I scoured job listings and sifted through rejection letters. My name, Felicity von Sterntal, had undoubtedly been revealed through the numerous applications I had submitted, a detail he could have easily gleaned. And the presence of the sleeping bag, a symbol of my desperation and downtrodden circumstances, likely provided him with the final confirmation he needed. It became painfully clear that I must have appeared to him as the perfect victim for whatever scheme he was plotting. The realization sent a chill down my spine, a wave of vulnerability washing over me as I grappled with the unsettling implications of his calculated observation. With a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach, I resolved to proceed with caution, wary of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of his enticing offer. As I continued to sift through job offers, the memory of John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the reservations gnawing at my conscience, I couldn't shake the allure of his seemingly affluent demeanor and the enigmatic promise he had made. His professional attire and confident demeanor bespoke a level of wealth and influence that was undeniably intriguing, especially for someone who appeared to be in his late twenties. Yet, as I found myself briefly succumbing to the fleeting temptation, a resolute determination surged within me. I shook my head. I refused to entertain the notion of compromising my principles, even in the face of such uncertainty and desperation. The thought of possibly engaging in anything of a sexual nature for monetary gain was quickly dismissed, my self-worth and dignity too precious to be bartered away. Also it’s not like I have any sexual experience anyway. However, despite my resolve, a speck of curiosity about John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind. As I continued to sift through job offers, his presence remained a lingering question mark, tugging at the edges of my consciousness with a persistent allure that I couldn't quite shake. The day dragged on, each passing moment marked by the familiar sting of disappointment as my efforts yielded no success. Despite the mysterious interruption earlier, I quickly regained my focus, returning to the monotonous routine of job hunting. A while later, seated in the same spot, beneath the looming shadow of the skyscraper that towered above me and reminded me of my past, I found myself lost in thought, munching on the same kind of chips that had become a staple of my meager diet. As I chewed on the familiar salty snack, the memories of the past days flooded through me, a relentless tide of reminders of my struggles and setbacks. The relentless cycle of uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder of the uphill battle I faced in clawing my way out of the depths of despair. Amidst the turmoil of my thoughts, a simple realization emerged: I needed to break free from the confines of this repetitive existence, starting with something as simple as changing my dinner menu for tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and began the familiar trek towards my secluded alley. As I passed by the office of the law firm, now a fixture in my daily surroundings, I couldn't help but steal a longing glance through the windows, pondering the lives of those within. Lost in idle daydreams, my attention was abruptly shattered when I found myself locking eyes with a man about to step into an elevator at the back of the lobby. It was John, and to my horror, he had noticed me too. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, flushing my cheeks with embarrassment as I hastily averted my gaze and bolted around the corner, seeking refuge in the safety of my alley sanctuary. The encounter left me rattled, a knot of apprehension coiling in the pit of my stomach as I grappled with the unsettling implications of our unexpected meeting. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me as I settled into my makeshift resting place behind the dumpster, seeking solace in the refuge of sleep. Yet, despite my weariness, rest proved elusive as I found myself caught in a hazy limbo between wakefulness and slumber. Memories of the day swirled around in my mind like a tumultuous whirlwind, refusing to grant me the respite I so desperately sought, leaving me in a disorienting haze where they swirled like fragments of a fractured reality. Amidst the fog of my memories, John's face emerged intermittently, a haunting presence that lingered on the fringes of my consciousness. Despite my best efforts to find respite in sleep, his haunting gaze seemed to follow me into the realm of dreams, casting a shadow of unease over the fragile sanctuary of my thoughts. And so, I remained suspended in a daze, trapped in the liminal space between consciousness and oblivion, grappling with the unsettling echoes of the day's events that refused to be silenced. As I drifted on the precipice of sleep, I was violently yanked back into consciousness by the sensation of someone shaking me with rough urgency. With a gasp, my eyes flew open to behold two looming figures, their silhouettes cast in stark relief against the feeble glow of the street lantern that pierced the darkness of the alley. A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, as fear surged through every fiber of my being, rendering me paralyzed in shock. Tears streamed down my face in torrents, blurring my vision as I trembled uncontrollably, a helpless captive to the terror that gripped me in its merciless embrace. Frozen in place, I could do naught but gaze up at the looming shadows, consumed by a suffocating sense of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. "Hey girl, give us all of your money!" one of the figures demanded, their voice dripping with menace as a sinister smirk danced upon their lips, barely visible in the dim illumination of the street lantern. "I-I-I don't have a-any," I managed to stammer out through trembling lips, my voice barely above a whisper as tears continued to stream down my face, betraying my overwhelming fear. Before I could even comprehend their next move, they lunged forward, seizing my backpack from my grasp with ruthless efficiency. Despite my feeble attempts to resist, I found myself held down by unseen hands, rendered powerless by the shock that still held me captive in its grip. Helplessly, I watched as they emptied the contents of my backpack onto the cold pavement, their greedy hands sifting through my meager belongings with callous disregard. Each item strewn haphazardly before me served as a stark reminder of the fragility of my existence, a harsh testament to the cruelty of fate in a world that showed no mercy to the downtrodden. "HEY!" a voice suddenly pierced the tense air, echoing through the alleyway as the sound of running footsteps grew louder. "What's going on here? Leave her alone!" the voice thundered with authority, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh shit, let's go," one of the figures muttered to the other, their panicked voices barely audible over the pounding of my heart. With swift movements, they fled towards the other end of the alley, their forms disappearing into the darkness as they vanished from sight. The mysterious man, who had come to my rescue, pursued them briefly before coming to a halt, realizing they were already out of reach. With a heavy exhale, he turned his attention back to me, his gaze softening as he took in the sight before him. I remained huddled atop my sleeping bag, my face buried in my knees which I clutched tightly to my chest. Shivers wracked my body as tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the remnants of fear that still lingered in the air. My meager belongings lay strewn around me, a pitiful testament to the vulnerability that had been laid bare in the face of danger. "Miss von Sterntal?" The words escaped the mysterious man's lips in a gasp of recognition, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth as he took in the sight before him. My eyes lifted for the first time, meeting his gaze, and the realization washed over me like a tidal wave. "John?" I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Too many thoughts and feelings raced through my mind at once, leaving me reeling in the aftermath of the harrowing ordeal. In that moment, as our eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding, the boundaries between us blurred, and I found myself clinging to the unexpected connection that had emerged between us in the midst of chaos. Chapter 3 - Luxury John crouched in front of me, his concern etched on his face. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm. I shook my head weakly, huddling closer to my knees on the sleeping bag. His eyes scanned the alleyway, taking in the scattered contents of my backpack. "Is this where you've been staying?" he inquired, his tone filled with both curiosity and concern. I nodded silently, feeling a rush of shame at the admission. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this," I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "I'll just gather my things and leave." As I started to clumsily gather my belongings and was about to stand up from my spot, I noticed the puddle underneath me and the wet clammy feeling of my pants. I must've wet myself out of fear. My face blushed crimson as another pang of shame overcame me. My pace quickened in an effort to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. "Felicity, wait," John said as he gently grabbed my arm, preventing me from packing any further. "Feli," I corrected softly, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me as I avoided his gaze. "I like Feli more," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his, noticing the genuine concern etched into his expression. He released my arm, realizing he had my attention. "Listen, Feli," John began, his eyes holding mine with a mix of gentleness and authority. "I don't know exactly what your deal is, but I can see you're down on your luck. And I'm sure you have nowhere else to go, right?" he continued, his tone soft yet probing. I nodded meekly, feeling a knot form in my stomach as he scratched the stubble on his chin, his gaze sweeping over the scene before us. "I don't like intruding," he admitted, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly at his remark, recalling our awkward encounter in the café. "But I can't leave a young girl like you out on the streets like this." I looked down, feeling a fresh wave of shame wash over me, making me feel even more vulnerable. "How about you come to my place for tonight? I've got a guest room where you can clean up and get some rest." His gaze fell on the puddle underneath me, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Does that sound good?" John asked, his voice tinged with concern. I hesitated for a moment, weighing my options. Despite my apprehension, the thought of a shower and a bed was too tempting to resist. I nodded meekly, realizing I had little choice but to trust him for now. With a sense of gratitude mingled with uncertainty, I allowed John to help me pack up my few belongings. Together, we made our way down the alley towards the street where a car was waiting for him, ready to take me to a place that was entirely unfamiliar yet offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the night. As we settled into the backseat of the car, the driver spoke up from the front. "Good evening, Mr. Harrington. Am I still bringing you back to your place?" he inquired, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "Yes, please bring us home, Chuck," John confirmed, his voice carrying a note of weariness. The level of wealth where you could afford your own personal driver wasn't foreign to me, but it had been quite a few years since I'd experienced it firsthand. I sighed softly as I slumped back into my seat, feeling the uncomfortable wetness of my pants clinging to me, the exhaustion of the encounter finally catching up with me. As we passed through the bustling streets of NYC, my head rested against the cool window, my gaze fixed on the vibrant lights of the nightlife swirling by in a blur of colors and motion. A mix of uncertainty and hope tugged at my mind, a feeling that had become all too familiar to me lately. Amidst the chaos of the city, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for me in this unexpected turn of events. We entered the underground garage, bidding farewell to Chuck as he drove off. The dimly lit space felt strangely quiet after the chaos of the city streets. Following John, we made our way to an elevator, and he pressed the topmost button. The realization dawned on me that John's wealth surpassed what I had initially assumed, a notion that left me both impressed and apprehensive. As we ascended in the elevator, a sense of awkwardness settled between us, the silence punctuated only by the soft hum of the machinery. Finally, the doors opened, revealing a narrow hallway with just one door at the end. A penthouse, I surmised, my heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. John opened the door, inviting me into a world I had thought I would never see again. "Make yourself at home," John said, leading us through a small entryway into a sprawling living space. My eyes widened in awe as I took in the grandeur of the room. A luxurious couch sat in front of a massive TV atop a faux fireplace, exuding an air of opulence. One wall was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. I couldn't help but grimace as I spotted my parents' skyscraper in the distance, a stark reminder of the world I had left behind. An archway led to a spacious kitchen and dining area on one side of the room, while a few steps ascended to a corridor on the other. John guided me down the corridor and opened the first door on his right, revealing the large guest room. A queen-size bed occupied one wall, with a TV mounted opposite and a dresser beneath. In one corner, an en-suite awaited, offering a welcome respite from the chaos of the streets. "There's shower gel, towels, and spare toothbrushes. Do you need anything else?" John asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I shook my head, still stunned by the luxury and overwhelmed with gratitude. "Alright, I'll let you get cleaned up then," he said, turning to leave before pausing. "Oh, and are you hungry?" My stomach growled involuntarily, betraying my hunger. I was about to decline, not wanting to impose, but John's grin softened my resolve. "I'll make some sandwiches. Just join me in the kitchen when you're done," he said, offering a glimmer of warmth in the midst of uncertainty. With that, he left the en-suite, closing the door behind him, leaving me to soak in the surreal reality of my surroundings. As the warm water cascaded over me in the shower, washing away the grime and weariness of the night, a sense of clarity began to seep back into my mind. "I guess now I have to at least hear him out on his offer," I mumbled to myself, the words echoing in the solitude of the bathroom. Stepping out of the shower, I dried myself off and donned a shirt and sweatpants from my backpack, feeling a semblance of comfort return with each familiar garment. With hesitant steps, I made my way towards the kitchen, where John sat at the dining table, enjoying a sandwich. An identical one sat on a plate opposite him, awaiting my arrival. I sat down, muttering a quiet "Thank you," before taking a bite of the sandwich, savoring the simple pleasure of a warm meal. As I ate, John began to speak, his voice calm yet determined. "Alright, here's the deal," he started, pausing between bites. "I'll let you stay the night and get some rest, and I'll be gone already when you wake up tomorrow." He continued, outlining my options for the following day. "Either you leave before I'm back from work, and I'll leave you alone from now on," he explained, his gaze searching mine for any hint of reaction. "Or you decide to stay and hear out my offer when I come home from work." I swallowed my bite of sandwich, considering his words carefully. "Why don't you just tell me about the offer right now?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. But John shook his head, his expression unreadable. "I can't," he replied firmly. "Not yet, at least. But I can tell you tomorrow evening. You're still free to decline once you've heard it, however." I nodded in understanding, realizing that there was more to this offer than met the eye. With a sense of anticipation tinged with apprehension, I finished my sandwich, knowing that the following day would bring with it a decision that could change the course of my life. "Go and get some rest," John commanded, his tone firm yet not unkind, as he cleared away our plates and brought them to the kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine at his authoritative demeanor, but in the face of his generosity, I complied with his request nonetheless. As I settled into the plush comfort of the bed, the warmth enveloping me like a gentle embrace, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn't let fear or uncertainty hold me back any longer. I would hear him out the next day, whatever his offer may be. "I just really, really hope it's nothing sexual," I whispered to myself, the words lingering in the quiet of the room as I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with thoughts of the unknown future that awaited me. I woke up the next day, feeling surprisingly refreshed after a restful night's sleep. As I stretched and shook off the remnants of sleep, a sense of vitality surged through me. It had been a while since I had slept so well. Venturing out of the guest room, I found myself alone in the spacious apartment. John had already left, as he had promised. I made my way to the living room, drawn by the allure of the sprawling cityscape visible through the window. The sight of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper in the distance stirred a mix of emotions within me, a constant reminder of my past. "Make yourself at home," John's words echoed in my mind, and I resolved to do just that. Pushing aside the thoughts of my parents, I strode into the kitchen, where a delicious breakfast awaited me. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. To my surprise, there was a small note waiting for me on the table. "Make yourself at home. I'll be back at 6. See you then! -J," it read, a simple yet thoughtful gesture. I couldn't help but wonder if John already knew that I would stay to hear him out. With gratitude in my heart, I sat down and began to savor the hearty breakfast, allowing myself to indulge in the simple pleasures of the moment, grateful for the warmth and hospitality that John had extended to me. As the hours passed by, I found myself unable to shake off the nervous anticipation that gripped me like a vice. Despite my initial intention to relax and enjoy the comforts of John's penthouse, the looming uncertainty of the evening weighed heavily on my mind. I tried to distract myself by flipping through channels on the TV, but my attention kept drifting back to the impending conversation with John. What could his offer possibly be? And more importantly, what would it mean for my future? With each passing minute, my nerves seemed to intensify, the unknown stretching out before me like an endless abyss. Despite my best efforts to quell my anxieties, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach, reminding me of the high stakes of the decision that awaited me. I was sprawled out on the couch, a large glass of juice sitting on the table in front of me when I heard the front door open. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was only 5 pm. Curious, I craned my neck to peer over the back of the couch toward the entryway, where a woman emerged carrying two bags of groceries. Our gazes met, and a moment of surprise passed between us. "Oh, hello, miss..." she began, expecting me to fill in the pause with my name. "Feli," I replied, offering a small smile. "Okay, Miss Feli, my apologies. I didn't know Mr. Harrington had a guest over," she continued, her tone polite yet curious. I chuckled softly at that. "It's just Feli," I clarified, feeling a pang of discomfort at the formalities. "That's short for Felicity." She nodded in understanding, her warm smile never faltering. "Who are you?" I questioned, returning the inquiry. "Call me Marge," she replied with a friendly smile, radiating a sense of maternal warmth. "I'm here to cook dinner for Mr. Harrington... and you, I guess?" she explained, her tone tinged with uncertainty. "I guess so," I replied with a shrug, watching as she excused herself to the kitchen to begin her work. As the minutes ticked by, I found it increasingly difficult to focus on the TV, my nerves getting the better of me. The tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen only served to heighten my anticipation, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. Then, at precisely 6:05 pm, the front door swung open once again. "Feli, I'm home," John called out, his voice carrying a sense of warmth and familiarity. I couldn't help but marvel at how confident he seemed that I would stay, a realization that brought a small smile to my lips as our gazes met. Despite my lingering nerves, I felt a wave of relief wash over me at the sight of him. His warm smile was infectious, filling me with a sense of comfort and reassurance. While uncertainty still loomed on the horizon, the curiosity about his offer outweighed any lingering apprehension. I returned his smile, genuinely happy to see him. As he made his way toward me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that had led me here. Whatever lay ahead, I was determined not to miss out on the opportunity that lay before me, embracing the luxury and possibility that surrounded me in John's penthouse. Marge emerged from the kitchen just as John grabbed the TV remote and switched off the TV. "Did she behave?" he asked, his gaze directed at Marge. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as he spoke over my head about me. "Yes, Sir, Miss Feli behaved like an angel," Marge replied with a warm smile, her eyes flickering between John and me. We both chuckled at her formal address using my nickname, but I couldn't help but feel puzzled by their conversation. Why were they discussing my behavior as if I weren't in the room? And why did Marge feel the need to comment on it when we had barely interacted since she arrived? "Good to hear," John replied, grinning down at me with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes that I had come to detest. "Dinner is served, Sir," Marge announced politely, breaking the momentary silence. "Thank you, Marge. You're excused," John replied, and Marge quickly gathered her things and left the penthouse. As John and I made our way toward the dining table, I couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had settled over me, a feeling that this dinner would bring with it more than just good food and polite conversation. We ate in silence for a while, savoring the delicious meal that Marge had prepared for us. The flavors danced on my tongue, and for a moment, I allowed myself to forget about the weight of the impending conversation. John broke the silence as he took a sip from his glass of wine, his expression warm and genuine. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he said, his smile reaching his eyes. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "Well, the least I could do is hear you out after you've been so nice to me," I mumbled back, my voice barely above a whisper. I took another forkful of the heavenly food, grateful for the distraction it provided from the nervous tension that lingered between us. As John returned with two sets of papers and a pen, my heart skipped a beat at the sight. The weight of the moment hit me like a ton of bricks, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Just moments ago, it had all felt like a dream, but now, faced with the official-looking documents in front of me, it was undeniably real. He sat down opposite me, presenting one set of papers while holding onto the other. I could feel the tension in the air as he explained, "This is an NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement you need to sign. Once you've signed this, I can sue you if you tell anyone about what you're going to hear today. Marge also had to sign one before working for me." My throat went dry as I glanced over the paper, knowing full well the gravity of what I was about to agree to. I knew I needed to read it thoroughly before putting pen to paper. Skimming through the document, I confirmed that it was indeed just an NDA, outlining the terms of confidentiality regarding the information I was about to receive. Satisfied that I understood its contents, I took a deep breath and put my signature at the bottom of the page. Looking up at John expectantly, I braced myself for whatever revelation awaited me. As John placed the other set of papers in front of me, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me. But before I could even glance at the documents, he kept his hand on them and locked eyes with me, his gaze warm and sincere. "Now that you've signed the NDA, I can tell you about the offer," he began, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the nervous energy building inside me as I awaited his next words. "Long story short: I want you to become my baby for a month," he stated, the words hanging in the air between us like an electric charge. My mind reeled at the unexpectedness of his proposition, and I struggled to comprehend the full implications of what he was suggesting.

So I was wondering how the community feels about Public Messing on purpose. Does it make you happy, does it make you self-conscious, does it give you a rush, does it not affect you at all, etc.?

Elizabeth or lizzie for short is a coo of a bank but the stress she is under at work is unbelievable. She decides to posh a ad online to find someone who will take care of her. What they don't know is that she is a adult baby.

I'm really sorry for the delay on this one. I'm just trying to make everything perfect, and this doesn't feel perfect yet. But I'm probably as close to perfect as I'm going to get. I know this chapter is really short. I'll try to have a longer one up by next week, okay? Anyway... If you haven't read any Academy Works stories, there are five others in this universe. They are as follows: Academy I (Part 1), Academy B (Part 2), Academy T (Part 3), Academy K (Part 4), and Academy A (Part 5). You don't have to read any of the other stories to enjoy this one, but there are a lot of references and overlap. If you're in this for the long haul, and you want to know about the entire universe, I really do recommend reading this one after the other five. As always, you can support me at this Patreon link. Thank you for all the comments and likes over the past year, and I hope to finish this project soon! ~Mia~ --------------------------------- Academy M By Mia Moore "The just are blind to love, and the lovers are blind to everything else." -The Source Mistake One I flipped through the dossier. Of all the cases they wanted me to start with... "So?" "You're sure she's a candidate?" I asked. Eli nodded. He was the Academy's problem solver, and his first problem was the hardest one. How do we identify the candidates? "Judith Levin, age twenty-eight." "And she's been Touched?" I flipped the page. There was a picture on this one: a brunette with half-closed eyes and a faraway look. "Yep," Eli said, which was all that he had to say. If she'd been Touched and he was able to compile a dossier, that was proof enough. She didn't disappear. "So what am I supposed to do," I said sharply, snapping the folder closed. I entwined my fingers in front of me and leaned forward to meet Eli's gaze. He could intimidate anyone, but not me. I'd been working with him for far too long. "Keep her occupied. She's done her part, but she's still an Arcana. She's dangerous." Sure, keep her occupied. Eli was asking me to babysit God. "Why me?" I asked. That was the real question I wanted answered. "There are a thousand other people working here that could handle this." Eli smiled when he said: "She's into tall women." "Well, shit..." "No one is better than you, Maria," Eli went on. He was goading me, but he wasn't wrong. "Where is she?" I asked, entertaining the offer. "Academy B?" "M," Eli said flatly. "Wait, really?" “——— isn't taking any chances." "I guess not..." I twirled my hair in thought. If keeping Judith in line was really so important, then I might as well take on the extra responsibility. It would give me more leverage at the end of all this. "So you'll do it?" Eli asked. "I'll do it." "Good." And then Eli dropped the stoicism for just a moment to give me a smile. "You've got this." "I'm not worried," I said brightly, without a hint of dishonesty. But I should have been worried. I should have shown an ounce of caution, but my pride never let me make such compromises. Determination and commitment motivated me, and they would motivate me to oblivion. Judith Levin would be my downfall, and that cascade began when I accepted her as my responsibility. She was my first mistake.

Let me preface this topic by saying I am not a writer, but I've read quite a lot of stories on here as well as pretty much every other website that provides ABDL or similarly themed stories, in German as well as English. Thus there may be themes and plotlines in this work that are inspired by other works out there, as that is pretty much unavoidable. However I will try my best to ultimately still keep this story original in the end. Since I have pretty much zero experience in actually writing stories, but am quite versed in prompt engineering AIs, I decided to try out how far I can get to writing an actually enjoyable and consistent novel by relying heavily on AI assistance. I checked the pinned posts in this forum and did not find any rules regarding AI assisted/generated stories, so I hope I'm not breaking any rules. If I do, my apologies. Of ourse I'm heavily aware of the limitations of current, publicy available language models and for the sake of transparency I'm going to briefly explain my approach here. I use two instances of the free version of ChatGPT running on GPT-3.5. The first one I feed with precise outlines of what I want to happen and it responds with a handful of paragraphs at a time. Due to limitations in the conext size and the size of the responses it can't generate full chapters at once, even though those would be more consistent on their own., however with my approach of feeding it prompts bit by bit I have more control about the content. I still need to go through each paragraph however, rearrange them sometimes and fix minor consistency issues. Every now and then there will also be sentences and the odd paragraph in there that I had to fully write on my own, as ChatGPT was not cooperating to produce what I wanted. I really hope those do not stand out however and there is no discernible difference in quality of writing. After I finish a chapter I then feed it into a second instance of ChatGPT, which sole purpose is to extract knowledge and data points from the chapter and outline it once again, which I then feed back into the first AI to increase cohesion and consistency. I've created 5 chapters so far and in my opinion they read really well and are fairly cohesive. I have a general idea for where the story will go but I'm still uncertain of where it will end up. I like to surprise myself a bit as I progress this story and dive deeper into the mind of the protagonist. I aalso have no idea how long this approach will hold up and when the consistency breaks down completely. I welcome any kind of criticism regarding the quality of this story, especially in regards to consistency, as quality AI assisted writing is still fairly novel and I'm very curious to hear what you guys have to say about this approach aand the result. Without further ado, here are the first 5 chapters: ----------------- Chapter 1 (Thursday, Day 1) Sitting at my desk, the hard wooden surface pressing against my thighs, I let out a weary sigh. Mr. Henderson's droning voice filled the classroom, the words blending together into a meaningless stream. History had never been my favorite subject, but today it felt particularly unbearable. I was a sophomore in high school, barely fifteen, with chestnut hair that fell in unruly waves around my shoulders and eyes the color of storm clouds. Despite my petite frame, I carried myself with a quiet confidence, a facade that masked the shame that gnawed at my insides. School had only started three days ago, after a long summer break filled with lazy days and carefree afternoons. But now, with the weight of my secret bearing down on me, those carefree days felt like a distant memory. My mind drifted back to that first accident a few weeks ago, the one that had started this whole downward spiral. I had been home alone, lost in the blissful solitude of my own thoughts, when it happened. I was sitting at my desk, engrossed in a book, when the pressure in my bladder had become too much to bear. I had tried to ignore it at first, too focused on the story unfolding before me to pay attention to the warning signs. But as the urgency grew stronger, more insistent, I finally realized what was happening. I jumped up from my desk, my heart pounding in my chest, and raced to the bathroom. But by then, it was too late. I felt the warm trickle of urine running down the fabric of my pants, a humiliating reminder of my body's betrayal. The shame washed over me in waves as I stumbled into the bathroom, tears stinging my eyes. I cleaned myself up as best I could, my hands trembling with embarrassment. And when I finally emerged from the bathroom, my cheeks flushed with shame, I vowed to never let it happen again. But now, as I sat in Mr. Henderson's classroom, the memory of that first accident came rushing back with startling clarity. And as the pressure in my bladder grew stronger, more insistent, I realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that history was about to repeat itself. Bits and pieces of the lesson floated through my mind, ironically drawing parallels to my current situation. Mentions of treaties and alliances felt like reminders of the fragile alliances I had forged with my own body, desperate attempts to maintain control in the face of impending disaster. But as my thoughts started to spiral again, a sudden realization snapped me back to reality. A warm, damp sensation spread across the fabric of my panties, and my heart sank. The shame washed over me in a suffocating wave, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I tried to discreetly wipe away the evidence. And then, just as I was grappling with the humiliation of my predicament, Lily's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. Lily has been my best friend for as long as I can remember and she was sitting next to me in class. "Ellie, are you okay?" she asked, concern etched in her features. I forced a smile, my voice strained as I replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I guess." But even as I spoke the words, I could see the doubt in Lily's eyes. She had noticed something off about me, something I had been desperately trying to conceal. And as she continued to study me with furrowed brows, I knew that my carefully constructed facade was beginning to crumble, exposing the truth I had fought so hard to hide. My heart sank further as I realized there were still ten more minutes left in this class. How was I supposed to deal with my wet secret for that long? And as the pressure in my bladder continued to build, I couldn't shake the feeling of mortification knowing that the short leak wasn't enough to relieve it. I watched the clock closely, patiently waiting to be released from this torture. My thoughts started drifting off again, thinking about how my life was just fine a few weeks ago and how my bladder control got progressively worse in the last two weeks of summer vacation. At first, I didn’t notice. It all began with that one accident, which I quickly dismissed. I rationalized it afterward, attributing it to the copious amounts of water I drank that day to combat the summer heat. Given my tendency to lose myself in thought and tune out the world around me, it seemed plausible. In the following weeks, I continued to use the same excuse to justify my increasingly frequent trips to the bathroom. I didn’t think much of it. "It's just because I've been drinking so much to stay hydrated in the summer," I reassured myself. Although that carefree confidence started to crumble more and more with each trip to the bathroom and close call. Afterall here I was, sitting in class with damp panties. The shrill ring of the bell echoed through the classroom, pulling me once again from my thoughts, signaling the end of yet another torturous history lesson. Without a second thought, I bolted out of my seat, my heart racing as I made a beeline for the exit. I could feel the pressure in my bladder reaching a critical point, threatening to unleash an even worse accident if I didn't act fast. With each hurried step, I prayed that I would make it to the restrooms in time. The hallway stretched on endlessly before me, the minutes ticking by agonizingly slow. But finally, mercifully, I reached the door to the restroom and pushed it open with trembling hands. I dashed inside and made a beeline for the nearest stall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Just barely, I managed to yank down my pants and lower myself onto the toilet before it was too late. I closed my eyes, relief flooding through me as I felt the warm rush of urine escaping my body. Once the immediate crisis had passed, I dared to open my eyes and glance down at my wet panties. The shame washed over me anew as I realized the extent of the damage. There was no hiding it now – the evidence of my secret was plain for all to see. I contemplated my situation, trying to come up with a plan to discreetly deal with my wet underwear. But as I sat there, lost in thought, a knock on the stall door shattered the silence. "Ellie? Are you in there?" Lily's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, concern evident in her tone. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. How had she found me here? And more importantly, how was I supposed to explain the mess I had gotten myself into? With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realized that I was about to be confronted with a reality I had been desperately trying to avoid. "I-I'm fine, Lily," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just... needed a moment alone, you know?" But even as the words tumbled out of my mouth, I knew they sounded unconvincing. How could I possibly explain the mess I had made of things without revealing my deepest, most humiliating secret? There was a brief pause, and then Lily spoke again, her voice soft but insistent. "Ellie, I'm your best friend. You can talk to me about anything. Please, just let me in." I hesitated, torn between the instinct to keep my secret buried deep inside and the desperate need for someone to confide in. Finally, with a heavy heart, I unlocked the stall door and watched as Lily stepped inside. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the scene before her – me, sitting on the toilet with tears streaming down my cheeks, my wet panties discarded on the floor beside me. "Oh, Ellie," Lily whispered, her voice filled with sympathy. "What's going on? Why are you so upset?" I took a deep breath, steeling myself to reveal the truth I had fought so hard to hide. "Lily, I... I've been having accidents," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been happening for weeks now, and I don't know what to do." Tears welled up in my eyes as I recounted the humiliating ordeal I had been going through, the shame and fear that had consumed me with each passing day. But to my surprise, instead of recoiling in disgust or disbelief, Lily reached out and enveloped me in a warm hug. "Ellie, I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea you were going through this. But you don't have to face it alone. We'll figure this out together, okay?" And in that moment, as I clung to my best friend for dear life, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life inside me. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to face this nightmare alone after all. Chapter 2 (Thursday, Day 1) Lily and I huddled together in the restroom stall, our voices hushed as we deliberated our options. "Okay, so we have two choices," Lily began, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Option one: we dry off your panties as best as we can and you put them back on. Hopefully, the wetness won't show through your pants." I bit my lip, considering her suggestion. "But what if they do show through?" I whispered anxiously. "I can't bear the thought of everyone seeing..." Lily nodded understandingly before presenting the second option. "Option two: we seek out help from the school staff. They might have spare clothing or be able to assist us in some way." I hesitated, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, the idea of confiding in someone else filled me with dread. I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else knowing about my humiliating secret. But on the other hand, the risk of being caught with wet panties was equally terrifying. "I... I think we should go with option one," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't... I can't bring myself to tell anyone else about this." Lily nodded in agreement, though I could see the concern in her eyes. "Okay, we'll go with option one," she said gently. "But if it doesn't work out, we'll figure something else out, okay? You're not alone in this, Ellie. I'm here for you." Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I nodded, overwhelmed by Lily's unwavering support. Together, we set to work drying off my panties as best as we could, hoping against hope that our chosen option would be enough to get us through the rest of the day. As we worked quickly to dry off my panties, the restroom door creaked open, and the voices of a bunch of gossiping girls drifted in. My heart sank as I listened to their chatter, their words slicing through the air like knives. "...and did you hear about Sarah? I heard she got dumped by her boyfriend in front of the whole school! Can you imagine how humiliating that must've been?" The cruel laughter that followed sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt Lily tense beside me. We pressed ourselves against the walls of the stall, hardly daring to breathe as we waited for the girls to leave. My mind raced with fear and anxiety, the sound of their laughter ringing in my ears like a taunt. I couldn't help but wonder what they would say if they knew about my own humiliating secret, about the struggles I was facing right now. But as the seconds ticked by agonizingly slow, the girls' voices gradually faded away, leaving behind an eerie silence. Lily and I breathed a sigh of relief, our bodies still trembling with tension. Once the coast was clear and my panties as dry as we could get them, we emerged from the stall, our faces pale with fear and exhaustion. Lily squeezed my hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with sympathy. "We'll get through this, Ellie," she whispered, her voice filled with determination. "Together." With Lily's support, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them head-on. And as we left the restroom, ready to tackle whatever came our way, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life inside me. We made it back to our last class of the day without anyone noticing the turmoil that had unfolded in the restroom. With each step, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the weight of my secret, but also still reminded of the dampness inside my pants. As we settled into our seats, the familiar routine of the classroom provided a welcome distraction from the events of the day. And though the memory of the gossiping girls lingered in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Lily's unwavering support. Despite the close call, I had managed to navigate through the day without my secret being exposed to the entire school. It was still a close call, but in that moment, it felt like a small victory. Despite the earlier challenges, the remainder of the class passed without incident. But as the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, my relief was short-lived. As I gathered my belongings and prepared to leave, Lily caught up to me, a concerned expression etched on her face. "Ellie, wait," she said softly, motioning for me to step aside. Confusion knitted my brows as I followed Lily to a secluded corner of the hallway. It was then that her gaze flickered down to my pants, and her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, Ellie," Lily murmured, sympathy lacing her voice as she gestured to the damp stain that had seeped through. "We need to figure out a way to conceal this before you leave school. We can't let anyone see." Panic surged through me as I realized the gravity of the situation. I couldn't bear the thought of facing the humiliation of being seen with stained pants, especially not in front of my classmates. But with Lily by my side, I knew we would find a way to handle it together. Taking a deep breath, Lily and I set to work, brainstorming ideas to conceal the stain and get me home safely. We quickly decided that Lily would lend me her jacket to tie around my waist, providing cover as we made our way through the crowded halls. Nervously, Lily and I made our way through the hallways towards the exit, keeping a vigilant eye out for any signs of suspicion. To our relief, we seemed to go unnoticed, but the tension still lingered in the air, palpable and suffocating. As we approached the bus stop, the familiar sound of giggling reached our ears, and my heart sank as I spotted the gossiping group of girls already waiting there. Among them stood the tallest one, towering at 5 foot 10 over my petite 5 foot 0 frame. She shot a glance towards the jacket around my waist, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, but quickly became engrossed in conversation with her friends once again. My pulse raced with anxiety, but to my immense relief, the girl didn't seem to suspect anything amiss. She made no comment about the jacket or the stain it concealed, and soon, the bus arrived, whisking us away from the prying eyes of the gossiping girls. As we settled into our seats on the bus, I let out a shaky breath, grateful for the narrow escape. Despite the close call, we had managed to make it through the day without my secret being exposed to the entire school. It was a small victory, but in that moment, it felt like a monumental achievement. After what felt like an eternity, though it was only about 15 minutes, Lily and I finally reached our stop. Lost in my thoughts, I reflected on the rollercoaster of a school day we had just endured. As we stepped off the bus and onto the familiar sidewalk, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach at the thought of facing my mom when I got home. We walked together in silence until we reached the front of my house. With a heavy heart, I turned to Lily, knowing our time together was coming to an end for the day. "Thanks, Lily," I said softly, my voice tinged with gratitude. "For everything." Lily smiled warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course, Ellie," she replied. "Anytime. And don't worry, you can keep the jacket for today. You can give it back to me tomorrow before school." Relief washed over me as I pulled the jacket tighter around my waist, hoping it would conceal the stain, not realizing however that stain had almost fully dried and was barely visible by now. With a final hug, we said our goodbyes, and I watched as Lily walked away, disappearing down the street. Alone now, I stood in front of my front door, the weight of the day's events heavy on my shoulders. Dread gnawed at me as I contemplated the inevitable encounter with my mom. Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and reached for the doorknob, steeling myself for what lay ahead. Chapter 3 (Thursday, Day 1) I stepped through the front door, the weight of the day's events heavy on my shoulders. My mom greeted me with her usual upbeat demeanor, her smile brightening as she asked about my day. "Hi, Mom," I managed to stammer out, my voice barely above a whisper. I forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil raging inside me, and quickly set my bag down by the door. As my mom chattered on about her day, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me, I followed her to the kitchen, my mind swirling with worrisome thoughts. I mechanically poured myself a glass of water, the cool liquid doing little to calm the nerves that threatened to consume me. I forced myself to focus on my mom's words, nodding along absentmindedly as she recounted the events of her day. But beneath the surface, a sense of dread gnawed at me, the weight of my secret pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I struggled to keep up the facade of normalcy, my mind racing with unanswered questions. How could I face my mom when she inevitably found out about my struggles? Would she be disappointed in me, or worse, ashamed? As I sipped my water, I resolved to keep my secret buried deep inside, at least for now. I couldn't bear the thought of burdening my mom with my troubles, not when she had her own worries to contend with. But even as I tried to push aside my fears, a sense of unease lingered in the air, casting a shadow over what should have been a peaceful afternoon at home. And as I glanced up at my mom, her smile faltering for just a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that our idyllic facade was beginning to crack. As I helped my mom make dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables providing a comforting distraction, I began to feel a sense of calm wash over me. Maybe, just maybe, my mom hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary after all. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the pressure building in my bladder until it became almost unbearable. With a small gasp, I excused myself from the kitchen, intending to make a quick trip to the bathroom. But before I could take a single step, my mom's voice cut through the air, startling me out of my reverie. "Ellie, wait," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "Can I ask you something?" I turned to face her, my mind still foggy from my internal turmoil. "Sure, Mom," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising tide of anxiety. She hesitated for a moment, her expression unreadable, before finally speaking. "What's with the jacket, sweetheart?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "It's still pretty warm out for you to be wearing it." My heart skipped a beat as I realized there was no way to avoid the question. With a shaky breath, I forced myself to reply, praying that my mom wouldn't push for more details. "Oh, uh, it's just... I found it in my closet and thought it looked nice," I said, my voice trembling slightly. To my surprise, my mom's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the jacket. "That's odd," she mused, her tone thoughtful. "I don't remember you ever owning a jacket like that. Did you borrow it from a friend?" Panic surged through me as I struggled to come up with a plausible explanation. "Um, yeah, something like that," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "A friend lent it to me for the day." My mom nodded slowly, though a hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Alright, honey," she said, her tone gentle. "Just be careful, okay? And make sure to return it to your friend when you're done with it." With a nod, I forced a smile and hurried off to the bathroom, my heart still pounding with adrenaline. As I closed the door behind me, I let out a shaky breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. But even as I relieved myself, the weight of my secret hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over what should have been a simple family dinner. Sitting on the toilet, I couldn't help but glance down at the white, slightly childish-looking panties I wore. My heart sank as I noticed the faint yellow stain, now fully dry, marring the fabric. With a pang of embarrassment, I realized I should probably change out of them. Once I finished in the bathroom, I made a quick detour to my bedroom upstairs. Hastily, I switched out of my jeans and stained panties, exchanging them for a fresh pair and a comfortable pair of sweatpants. I left the borrowed jacket on my bed and hurried back downstairs to the kitchen. As I reentered the room, the aroma of dinner filled the air, momentarily distracting me from my worries. My mom glanced up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. I forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering sense of unease. "Yeah, much better," I replied, my voice sounding more confident than I felt. "Sorry about that, Mom." She waved off my apology with a smile, turning back to tend to the food. But even as I joined her in the kitchen, the memory of the stained panties lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the secret I was desperate to keep hidden. As I finished setting the table, the sound of the front door opening caught my attention. Moments later, my dad entered the kitchen, his tired smile lighting up his face as he greeted me. "Hey there, kiddo," he said, ruffling my hair affectionately. With a smile, I returned his greeting, grateful for the familiar routine of our family dinners. As we all sat down at the table, the warm glow of the kitchen bathed us in a sense of comfort and familiarity. Throughout dinner, I couldn't help but notice how upbeat both of my parents seemed, their laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories from their day. They played the part of the happy little family perfectly, oblivious to the worries that ate away at their daughter from the inside. I tried my best to join in the conversation, forcing a smile and nodding along with their stories. But beneath the facade of normalcy, a sense of isolation gnawed at me, reminding me of the burden I carried alone. As the evening wore on and dinner came to an end, I excused myself from the table, claiming exhaustion from the long day at school. But even as I retreated to my room, the weight of my secret hung heavy on my shoulders, casting a shadow over what should have been a simple family meal. As I sat down to tackle my homework, my mind couldn't help but drift back to the events of the day. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for Lily and all she had done to support me. Without her, I don't know how I would have made it through the day. With a sudden burst of determination, I decided to call Lily, hoping to do our homework together. Somehow, suffering through the boring math equations seemed more bearable with her by my side. "Hey, Lily!" I greeted her as she picked up the phone. "Hey, Ellie! What's up?" Lily replied cheerfully. "I was wondering if you wanted to do our math homework together? It's kind of boring on my own," I suggested. "Sure thing! I’ve finished mine already, but I don’t mind keeping you company," Lily agreed with a laugh. I quickly got to work, Lily helping me through the first problem. But it wasn't long before our conversation veered off course, leading us down a rabbit hole of jokes and stories. "Remember that time in sixth grade when Mr. Thompson caught us passing notes in class?" Lily reminisced, causing us both to burst into laughter. "Oh, how could I forget?" I replied between giggles. "That was definitely one of our finer moments." As we continued to work through the homework, I couldn't help but marvel at Lily's patience and willingness to help, despite having already completed her own assignments. It was moments like these that reminded me just how lucky I was to have her as a friend. In the midst of our conversation my focus shifted further and further away from the assignment I was doing. By the time we were completely off topic I barely managed to finish half of the assignment and had already completely forgotten about them. I even completely forgot about the stained panties still lying on my bedroom floor, which I had originally planned to deal with after homework. For the first time since I had arrived home, I felt a sense of lightness wash over me, grateful for the simple joy of friendship in the midst of chaos. Chapter 4 (Thursday, Day 1) Hours slipped by as Lily and I talked, laughter punctuating our conversation as we reminisced about old memories and shared new ones. But as the evening progressed, I realized with a sinking feeling that I still hadn't finished my homework. Time had slipped away unnoticed, and now I found myself scrambling to catch up. A sudden knock at the door shattered the tranquility of the moment, causing me to jump in my seat. With a quick apology to Lily, I excused myself from our phone conversation and hung up, my heart pounding with apprehension. "Come in," I called out automatically, my mind still reeling from the unexpected interruption. The door creaked open slowly, revealing my mom standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Hey, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice gentle. "Is everything okay?" I forced a smile, trying to hide the panic that threatened to consume me. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine," I replied, though my voice sounded strained even to my own ears. But my mom wasn't convinced. I could see it in the way she studied me, her eyes searching mine for any sign of distress. "Are you sure?" she asked, her tone gentle but probing. "You seemed a bit... off earlier. Is something on your mind?" I felt a surge of nervousness grip me as I realized that my mom wasn't as oblivious as I had thought. She had sensed something was wrong, and now I found myself at a loss for words. "I, uh, just got caught up in a conversation with Lily," I stammered, my voice faltering. "That's all." My mom's expression softened with understanding, though a hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Alright, sweetheart," she said softly. "Just remember, I'm here if you ever need to talk. I love you." As I sat there, trying to compose myself, realizing my Mom was only concerned and meant well, I noticed her gaze flicker towards the floor where my discarded clothes lay. My heart skipped a beat, fearing she might notice the stained panties, but to my relief, her attention seemed to pass over them without recognition. "Sweetheart, don't forget to clean up your clothes before bedtime," my mom said, her voice gentle but firm as she turned back to face me. I nodded quickly, my mind racing with a mixture of anxiety and relief. "Okay, Mom," I replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside me. With a final nod, my mom left the room, closing the door softly behind her. As I sank back into my chair, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease lingering in the air. My mom's concern was touching, but it also served as a stark reminder that I couldn't keep my struggles hidden forever. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. But even as I gathered up my clothes and prepared to clean up, the memory of my mom's probing gaze lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder that some secrets were harder to keep than others. As I placed my clothes in the hamper, a sense of exhaustion washed over me, weighing down my limbs as if each step was a struggle. I made my way to the kitchen, the cool tile floor soothing beneath my feet as I poured myself a glass of water, the gentle sound of it filling the silence of the empty house. With a heavy sigh, I trudged into the living room where my parents sat, their voices low as they chatted quietly. I mustered a weak smile as I bid them goodnight, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. Turning away, I made my way to the bathroom, the familiar routine of brushing my teeth offering a brief respite from the chaos of my thoughts. But even as I rinsed and spat, the worries of the day lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of all that I had left unfinished. As I climbed into bed, the events of the day replayed in my mind like a broken record, each moment filled with anxiety and uncertainty. I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at me, the struggles of the day casting a shadow over the days to come. With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes, the weight of my worries threatening to pull me under. But even as sleep beckoned, I couldn't escape the nagging sense of unease that clung to me like a stubborn shadow, a constant reminder of the struggles that lay ahead. And so, with a weary sigh, I surrendered to the embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring some respite from the chaos of today. I drifted off into a restless slumber, completely oblivious to the fact that I had never even finished my homework that day. Chapter 5 (Friday, Day 2) I sat in math class, my eyes fixed on the clock at the front of the room. Its hands seemed frozen in time, mocking me as I waited for the minutes to tick by. My bladder ached, a constant reminder of the discomfort I had been trying to ignore all morning. As the teacher droned on about equations and variables, I tried to focus on the lesson, but my mind kept wandering back to the relentless ticking of the clock. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching on and on as if time itself had come to a standstill. I glanced down at the worksheet in front of me, my stomach twisting into knots as I realized I hadn't finished the homework assignment. Panic bubbled up inside me, threatening to overwhelm my already frayed nerves. Summoning all my willpower, I tried to push aside my worries and concentrate on the task at hand. But as the minutes dragged on, my anxiety only grew, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest with each passing second. Just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, the teacher's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, calling my name. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what was happening. "Ellie, would you mind coming up to the front to present your solution for problem number three?" the teacher asked, her voice breaking through the fog of my panic. I felt a surge of dread wash over me as all eyes turned to me expectantly. With trembling hands, I gathered my things and made my way to the front of the room, my heart pounding in my chest. As I stood in front of the class, the weight of their gaze bearing down on me, I struggled to find my voice. My mind raced, searching desperately for the solution I knew was buried somewhere in the depths of my memory. But as the seconds ticked by, I realized with a sinking feeling that I had nothing. My mind was blank, my thoughts consumed by the overwhelming pressure of the moment. With a shaky breath, I mumbled something incomprehensible, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a jumbled mess. The teacher frowned, her disappointment palpable as she urged me to try again. But it was no use. The words refused to come, trapped in the tangled web of my anxiety. And as I stood there, frozen in place, I couldn't help but feel the crushing weight of failure bearing down on me, a heavy burden that seemed impossible to bear. Suddenly, a wave of relief washed over me, but it wasn't because I had miraculously found the answer to the math problem. Instead, it was a strange warmth spreading through my lower body, a sensation that left me bewildered and confused. Slowly, almost hesitantly, I glanced down, fully expecting to see a puddle forming at my feet. But to my shock and confusion, my pants remained dry, and instead, there was a strange bulge forming between my legs. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what was happening. I felt a surge of panic rising within me, my mind racing to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before me. I looked up, my eyes wide with fear, only to find all eyes in the classroom fixed on me. I could feel the heat of their stares burning into my skin, their whispers filling the air like a deafening roar. And then, amidst the chaos, I heard it: a faint, familiar giggle echoing from the back of the room. My blood ran cold as I recognized the sound, a chilling reminder of the humiliation that awaited me. Frozen in place, I struggled to make sense of it all. How had this happened? Why was I wearing a diaper? And who could have done this to me? But as I searched the faces of my classmates for answers, all I found was confusion and disbelief mirrored back at me. And in that moment, I realized that I was alone, trapped in a nightmare of my own making with no way out. As I jolted awake, confusion momentarily clouded my thoughts. It took a moment for me to realize that it was just a dream, but as the fog of sleep lifted, a wave of worry washed over me. My heart raced as I remembered the vivid details of the dream – the warmth spreading through my lower body, the sensation of wearing a diaper, the humiliating laughter echoing in the background. With trembling hands, I reached under the sheets, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched for any sign of wetness. Relief flooded through me as my fingers met dry fabric, but it was short-lived. In the next instant, a sharp pain sliced through my bladder, a stark reminder of the reality of my situation. Panic surged within me as I realized that I only had seconds to spare before disaster struck. Frantically, I threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, my mind racing as I raced to the bathroom, every step sending a jolt of agony through my body. With trembling hands, I fumbled with the doorknob, my heart pounding in my chest as I pushed open the door and stumbled inside. And then, finally, blessed relief washed over me as I collapsed onto the toilet, the pressure in my bladder finally easing as I let out a long, shuddering sigh. As I sat there in the dim light of the bathroom, the events of the dream still fresh in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder what it all meant. Was it just a nightmare, or was it a sign of something more? And as I sat there, lost in my thoughts, I couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come. As I returned to my bedroom, the dim light filtering in through the curtains cast long shadows across the room. Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was barely 3 am. Exhaustion washed over me, the events of the night leaving me drained both physically and emotionally. Crawling back into bed, I pulled the covers up to my chin, hoping to find solace in the darkness of sleep. But as I lay there, my mind buzzing with a thousand thoughts and worries, I found myself unable to relax. Minutes turned into hours as I tossed and turned, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind. But despite my best efforts, sleep remained elusive, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. And then, just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, exhaustion finally claimed me, pulling me down into the depths of dreamless sleep. As I drifted off into unconsciousness, a sense of peace washed over me, if only for a fleeting moment, as I surrendered to the embrace of slumber once more.

Prologue: The silence in the dim lit hospital room was only disturbed by the noise of the breathing machine. The single bed was occupied by an older female patient. Her name was Sally and she was about to lose her fight against the serious disease. Sally was a successful scientist and her work got famous; she focused on cancer research. By the irony of fate, her own research subject caught her up. At a regular check the gynecologist revealed a small lump on her breast. According to the biopsy it was a carcinoma. At first Sally was shocked but after a surgery everything seemed alright. Two years later Sally was plagued by headaches and the MRI revealed several metastases in her brain and bones. Unfortunately, it was too late for any surgery and Sally’s condition worsened rapidly. The tumors interrupted all connections between her brain and rest of her body. Now she was paralyzed, and the breathing machine and numerous tubes were the only way to keep her alive. Despite her serious condition her mind still was clear, but she felt like she was dreaming and disconnected from the real world. She knew she would die soon, and the dreams will be over. That thought made her worried. She desperately wanted to continue her work. All of sudden she heard a voice in her mind: “Sally, I know about your worries. Would you like to get a second chance?” “Who are you?” “It doesn’t matter. People have been giving me different names for ages but I’m able to help you if you really want to.” “Are you … God? Sorry but I’m a scientist and I don’t believe in God.” “It doesn’t matter if you believe or not. I ask you again; would you like to get the second chance?” “How do I get the second chance?” “Your mind will be exchanged against somebody else’s one.” “No, that’s unacceptable. A family loses their beloved one and I’ll become a surrogate.” “What if you helped the family in that way?” “Sorry, I don’t understand you.” “I know that’s an experiment even for me. You don’t have anything to lose and neither has the family you are worried about.” Sally was confused. She was taken aback by the mysterious entity. She definitely didn’t believe in God, but she didn’t have any explanation for the voice. However, the offer was quite attractive even if she didn’t understand how she could help. “Well, I accept your offer whoever you are. What would happen?” “I know a family you could help, and your mind would be exchanged against a family member. Do you take the risk?” “I don’t have anything to lose; that’s still better than death.” “Well, Sally. Maybe you reconsider your worldview. Get prepared for your second life.” “Thanks …” There was no reply anymore. Sally was thrilled about the upcoming events. Part 1: Sally opened her eyes; it was a big surprise after being isolated in her dreams only. Anyway that wasn’t the last or the biggest surprise. She felt her body even if she realized something was wrong. The body was much smaller than an adult; she could guess she was a child about 3 or 4 years old. Her clothing matched her size and age; she was wearing a beautiful pajama, but she felt a thick package between her legs. The diaper wasn’t that surprising; many children needed diapers at nighttime. She lifted her head and looked around the room. To her surprise she hardly was able to keep her head up. The next attempt revealed even more of her weak muscles. She could move her limbs, but she didn’t have any strength. The room was nice, but its equipment didn’t match her age; there was a changing table on the opposite side and a stroller next to her bed. She also couldn’t see any toys for a girl her age. Instead, there were plushies all around. Two plushies were sitting on the bed. Sally’s mind was working quickly; she put two and two together. The room apparently belonged to a disabled child. The little girl wasn’t able to use her limbs. Sally relaxed and waited but she did another attempt. What about her vocal cords? She almost tried to speak when she noticed the baby monitor. Speaking wouldn’t be a good idea. She turned her head away and tried to whisper. As expected, the vocal cords were functional. At that moment Sally realized what the mysterious entity did and why. The mind of the poor toddler moved into her wrecked body. Her mind was quite able to revive her limp body and enable her to become a healthy girl later. However, Sally had to face several problems. The first one was her new identity. The mysterious entity didn’t tell her anything about her name and family. She also didn’t have any idea of her supposed condition. A disabled child probably wasn’t able to speak. Meanwhile Sally felt the pressure in her bladder. She tried to clench the muscles, but her effort was vain; the bladder muscles were as weak as all other ones, and she peed in the diaper. The package between her legs got heavy and soaked. Sally sighed only and tried to think of her options. She had to find a way to recover from her condition without shocking her family. It really was a difficult task. However, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A middle-aged woman entered the room and she had to be Sally’s mother … oops, not Sally’s. First of all, Sally had to find out her new name. “Good morning, sweetheart,” the woman smiled at her child. To Sally’s disappointment she didn’t call her by name. Sally didn’t know how to react. What would a disabled child do? She couldn’t speak and the only appropriate response was a wide smile at the woman. Nevertheless, this reaction also was surprising: “Did you smile? Your mom is very happy. This is your first smile.” the woman leaned down and kissed Sally’s forehead. “Let’s get out of the nasty wet diapee,” she reached between Sally’s legs and lifted the small girl on her arms then. Sally instinctively put her tiny arms around the neck of her new mother and noticed an amazement in her eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s going on with you? Is it a miracle?” Sally was taken aback. The poor girl probably was more disabled than she was able to imagine. Even the slightest responses were a total surprise for her mother. She wasn’t able to guess how to react. As she was put onto the changing table, she relaxed and let her new mother change the soaked diaper and put the day clothes on her. However, it also was slightly unexpected: “I’m surprised by you sweetheart even if you probably don’t understand me. Thank God you are getting better. Your mom is thankful for every smile, and she would pray for you every day. Let’s go to breakfast now.” The new mom put Sally into the stroller and wheeled her out of the room and to the kitchen. A man, a girl about 10 and a small boy about 5 were sitting at the table already. “Tell good morning to our little Susy. She was in a very good mood today and she even smiled at me.” Well, the first goal has been reached. Her name was Susy. Now she needed the names of her new siblings and hoped she’d learn them soon. Susy instinctively smiled and almost opened her mouth to say good morning. The small boy jumped off his chair and ran over to the stroller. He hugged Susy and kissed her forehead. However, he stopped and stared at her. Susy also looked at him. Their eyes met and the boy felt something was wrong. Sally was able to pretend the disabled condition and avoid speaking but she wasn’t able to pretend the void look. “Hey, Charlie, sit down and eat now. You can be with Susie later,” the mother called him back and wheeled Susy to the table next to her older sister. “Annie, would you feed Susy?” “Of course, mom,” Ann turned to Susy and tied a bib around her neck. Susy let her do it without any fuss and waited patiently until Ann fed her. Ann also wondered a bit about Susy’s behavior, but she shrugged only and fed her sister. After breakfast dad took Ann to school and Charlie to the kindergarten. Susy was alone with her new mother. She got curious about the schedule; the upcoming day probably was quite boring. They stayed in the kitchen and mommy did the dishes She kept talking to Susy: “Sweetheart, you surprised me this morning. I don’t know what happened but hopefully you get better, a bit at least. I’ll pray for you and our Lord will help us. Your smile has to be a miracle. I don’t remember any single smile since you were born. Many times, I prayed for a glimmer of emotion and today you showed me it. I don’t know what happened and I’ll ask our Lord on Sunday. Hopefully he shows me his endless mercy. I know that you don’t understand any single word but I’m sure you feel my love and the love of the whole family.” Susy kept listening and she desperately wanted to reveal her real condition, but she couldn’t do it; the poor woman wouldn’t be able to understand what happened and her response was unpredictable. However there still was a good chance. If the family was religious, they could accept a miracle, but Susy couldn’t reveal her identity. She could train her muscles and speak but she hardly could reveal her knowledge and education level. It would be unacceptable even for a miracle. A tear appeared in Susy’s eye, but she had to wink and hide it quickly. The tear would reveal that she understood her mommy. Fortunately, mommy didn’t notice the tear and didn’t notice the non-void look; she apparently didn’t expect it. Susy quickly composed herself and started thinking of her plans while watching her new mommy. She hoped to learn even more about her new family.

All characters are adults. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time your criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not in a good way. Every little shift in someone’s seat, every bump on the road, every red light, even driving straight on a smooth road with light traffic—everything reverberated around the minivan’s interior. Anger and shame echoed off the glass. The click of the turn signal was deafening. And whenever another car pulled next to us at an intersection and either one of us made incidental eye contact with other drivers, the emotion in the car would somehow intensify. I would start tearing up again, but I dared not sob or sniffle my nose—that would only make things worse. My runny eyes and runny nose had already dripped down my face and on to my Sesame Street shirt and the straps of my overalls, but that was hardly the worst mess in my outfit. Lower down, my entire bottom was completely soaked; I’d wet my pants in the car. The wetness had dribbled down to my shoes and wicked up to the lower part of my shirt. My car seat was full of my naughty pee-pees, and I could almost feel it slosh around as we wove around traffic. It was cold now. The little toy mirror attached to my seat had somehow gotten pointed down, and a glance displayed a little baby who couldn’t hold on to use the potty like a big boy, and I just felt like crying again. And worst of all, I could already feel my tummy rumbling, and I would need the potty again soon. I’d never had a poopy accident before, but how could I possibly ask mommy for help now? I had hoped she would calm down during the car ride, but one shared glance in the rear-view mirror showed that wasn’t going to happen. Would I have have two accidents today?! Mercifully, we reached the driveway of our house. Unmercifully, mommy did not pull all the way into the garage. Instead, she parked outside, turned off the car, and turned around to face me. “I can’t believe you’ve had another accident! That’s the fourth time this week you went pee-pee in your nice clothes, and I have to get you cleaned up and clean up the mess you made! And all the bedwetting! Big boys use the potty! They don’t have accidents! Only babies do! Are you a baby?” Mommy’s upbraiding got me crying again. In between wails, I tried to say, “I’m sorry mommy!” but nothing intelligible came out. “I’ve had it with you! I don’t know a single other 34 year old who can’t control themselves. I know you’re big enough to hold your potties. So you must just be doing this to make mommy mad! Is that it?” I continued crying. “Well mission accomplished! So now I’m going to march you into the house, in broad daylight in front of all the neighbors so they can see what a little baby my supposed husband is, and you can stand in the naughty corner while I clean up your car seat.” With that, mommy pressed the button to open the sliding car door while she got out and stomped around the front. Reaching the door, she leaned over me and unbuckled my car seat, getting a real good view of how much I’d peed. “I guess you shouldn’t have had all that juice this morning, huh? Now get out.” I gingerly climbed out of the car and on to the pavement. Some of my cold pee-pee dribbled further down my pants, making me shiver. Now march! Double time! I waddled up the driveway, leaving bid wet footprints behind me. The neighbors were indeed getting an eyefull, watching the woman next door push her pathetic husband into the house with wet pants. What a loser! Mommy led me over to the corner of the living room, the naughty corner, to wait in time out. But then my tummy made another rumble, and I remembered that I still had to go poopy. “Mommy wait! I needa go potty!” “Oh no you don’t, mister! You’re not going to wiggle out of corner time that easily! Your ‘potties’ are all over your clothes and car seat, so I know that’s a lie!” “But mommy…” “No buts! If you so much as budge from that corner, you’re going to get the spanking of a lifetime!” And with that, mommy swooped right out of the room back outside to the driveway, leaving me in the corner. Pants full of pee. Shirt covered in tears and boogies. And a tummy full of poo-poo that really needed to come out. And so I started holding again. The wait dragged on as my tummy growled louder and louder, begging for relief. After a while, I could hear the car door close and the remote lock beep, and I could tell mommy was done cleaning and I could leave time out soon! I was gonna make it! But then I heard voices outside. It was Mrs. Whiting next door. She and mommy had stopped to talk! Oh no! I can’t hold on! “Mommy!” I shouted, the strain causing a little bit of poopy to poke out of my tushy. No answer. My strength giving out, my knees started to buckle, and I involuntarily squatted down. With my last little bit of strength, I squeezed as hard as my could for about a second, then a little fart escaped. My exhausted tushy fell limp, and I felt a real big poopy slide out. It felt firm at first as it shoved out of my body, but got squishy as it dropped into the bottom of my underpants and stretched it out. Another fart, then a second poopy came out, softer than the first. The sensations of all that yucky poopie squishing against me, the loud farting, and stink of my accident was all too much, and I started crying again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, snot was oozing from my nose, and more pee-pee flowed into my pants as I started wetting again. I stood there and wailed for what felt like hours. During a break in my sobs, I could feel there was third wave of poopy inside me, blocked by the pile already sitting in my pants. I just wanted it out, so I squatted down some more and pushed. Another small squirt of pee came out, and then a glob of very mushy poop burst out of my… “Oh my god, you are not serious!” During all my crying, I hadn’t noticed mommy had come back in and was standing in the doorway. She saw her crying husband with a fresh puddle around his feet, squatting down and pooping his pants. “Now you’re messing yourself?!” I didn’t answer with any words, just a fresh round of crying. My face was purple now. I lightly stomped my feet, and a small piece of poopie dripped down my leg. Mommy swooped in, grabbed my by the ear, and whisked me upstairs. I wailed all the way into the bathroom. I wailed the whole time mommy swiped off my soggy shoes, my cold socks, my stained shirt, my dripping overalls, and finally, my wet and poopy underpants, slipping down my legs and landing on the floor with a thump. I stood naked in the bathroom, shivering with cold and fear. I knew what was coming. Mommy silently emptied my messy underwear into the toilet and put the rest of my clothes in the special hamper we have for my accident clothes. She also took a wet-wipe from the counter and gave my tush a cursory wipe, confirming the dread punishment I was in for. She turned on the bathtub faucet to let it fill, took the special hairbrush from the counter, lowered the toilet seat cover, sat down, and looked dead at me. “Come here.” “Please mommy, I’ll try harder! I won’t poop my pants again, I promise!” “I said, come here!” Quivering with pathetic fear, I gingerly walked over to mommy, and knelt down over her lap. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I had a potty accident in my pants.” Tears were coming again. I put my hands behind my back. Without warning, mommy grabbed my two crossed wrists and began spanking. I started bucking and wailing as blows rained down on my reddening cheeks, mommy berating me with every stroke: “BIG! BOYS! DON’T! WET! Their PANTS! They USE! The POTTY! ONLY! BABIES! WET! And POOP! Their PANTS! ONLY! BABIES! CRY! STUPID! CRYING! PISSY! STINKY! BABY!” The room was awash in noise with mommy’s shouting, my crying, and the water faucet’s roar. It wasn’t until I cried so hard that I started choking on my own sobs that mommy finally relented. As suddenly as they began, the blows stopped and I was told to stand up again. Mommy put the brush away and turned the faucet off. She tested the water temperature, and motioned for me to get in. I gingerly lowered myself into the water, wincing as my red tushy touched the water. I sat down and just tried to catch my breath. I felt drained from everything that had happened, and I could only flop around limply while mommy took a bath sponge and started soaping me up. “I’m going to mark two accidents on your potty chart today. Do you know how many days this week you’ve been accident-free?” I shook my head no. “Just once, four days ago. And that’s only because I was being nice.” I remembered that trip to the potty. I had already dribbled a lot by the time I made it to the training potty in the hallway, and my underpants had a silver-dollar-sized wet spot on them. It sure felt like an accident, especially once I was finished and had to pull my cold underpants back up. And then, wet pants and tears three days in a row, finished off with a big poopy mess. “And you’re wetting the bed every night, too! That’s why you’re so tired and cranky during the day.” Mommy’s voice was softening. What did she mean? “I think someone’s not quite ready for big boy pants, hm?” Mommy took the shower spray and got my hair wet, then started massaging in shampoo. “If you can’t use the potty like a big boy, then the only solution is for you to start wearing your diapers again.” Oh no! Not that! Please! I’m not a baby! I’ll be good! I wanted to scream and thrash in the tub, but I was too tired, and all that came out was a moaned, “Noooo…” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re still too little.” She started spraying the shampoo out of my hair. “If you can’t hold your pee-pees and poopies for the big boy potty, then you’re just going to have to wear diapers for all your accidents.” “No, no, no, no, no…” My moan was now barely a mutter. Everything inside me was gone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use the potty… I really was just a baby! Mommy pulled the plug in the bathtub and started toweling me off, even while I softly blubbered. “I think you’re going to need a nap once I get your diaper on.” “Noooo naaaap!” “I’m getting mighty sick of hearing you whine ‘no’ over and over again. Now lets go get your baby pants on, unless you just want to stand here naked all day? You want that? You want to make mommy mad?” Still quietly sobbing, I shuffled over toward my bedroom, if you could call it that. More like a nursery. Mommy wouldn’t let me sleep with her anymore since I kept wetting the bed, and that was usually where Mister Robert slept when he stayed over, so there was no room for me. I slept and took naps in the guest room instead, which mommy had decorated with teddy bear and train decals on the walls, and Sesame Street or Pup Patrol bedsheets, whichever set wasn’t in the washing machine, on the bed (along with an uncomfortable plastic sheet). Toddler toys and stuffed animals were strewn around the floor, and there was still a faint smell of pee-pee in the air from previous nights’ accidents. Once she ushered me into the room and closed the door, she walked over to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of milk. Silently, she put in the bottle warmer sitting on top, then strode over to the closet and retrieved an unopened bag of diapers (she’d bought them to threaten me a week ago), a big beach towel, and a small bag I’d never seen before. All with a kind of scary efficiency, she unfurled the towel on the floor and set the diapers and bag down next to it. She turned to me with a cold look. “Lay down.” “Please, mommy…” She looked at her once-husband, still softly sobbing, cheeks wet with tears, a fresh coating of snot bubbling out of my nose and down over my mouth and down my chin, clutching a towel over my shoulders, shivering, my little pee-pee shriveled up even more than usual… A one-time junior law partner reduced to something so… “Pathetic,” she muttered. “I said, lay down.” “But I don’ wanna…” “LAY DOWN FOR YOUR DIAPER OR I SWEAR…” I crept a little closer, and then mommy grabbed my arm and, somehow without throwing me, quickly put me on my back on the makeshift changing pad, almost pinning me. She opened the plastic bag of diapers, pulled one out and started fluffing it, making sure I got a good look at the design. It was decorated with baby circus animals, each wearing its own diaper, and a few with pacifiers, baby bottles, rattles, and other infantile things. Once she was done fluffing, she opened it wide. “Lift your butt, diaper boy.” I never stopped sobbing. I obeyed and lifted my hips slightly, and mommy slid my diaper under me. Reaching into the mysterious bag, she then produced a bottle of baby powder and started sprinkling its snow all over my little pee-pee and tushy, rubbing it in with her other hand. I was embarrassed, but I liked the scent. Finally, she folded my diaper up over me, its cushioned stuffing hugging all my potty parts, and fastened the tapes. The whole time, she muttered, “Can’t use the toilet, can’t use the plastic potty in the hall, can’t hold his piss in the car, and now can’t hold his poop. Baby diapers it is.” The whole time, I just kept crying. “I’ll have to get a changing table for you, so I don’t have to bend over on the floor.” Once I was taped up, she got up and went to my dresser to get a new shirt. I sat up and looked at the puffy, crinkly diaper bulging between my legs. Every time I moved, the plastic crackled like firecrackers. I gingerly reached down to feel the plastic… “NO! You may not remove your diapers! Understand?” She lightly smacked my hand. “Now stand up.” I got up from the towel, trying to adjust my stance for all the padding between my legs. As I steadied myself, a long string of snot dripped down from my nose onto the towel. “Ugh, gross,” mommy said in disgust. She reached down back into the bag and got a pack of baby wipes. She took one and started roughly wiping my face down, removing the tears and snot. “You’re just a mess on both ends, aren’t you? Now arms up.” I complied, and she brought down a clean t-shirt over my head, one that had “BABY” in toy blocks printed on the front, and was just a little short, leaving my diaper on full display. “Now get into bed for your nap. Your bottle should be ready now.” I mournfully shuffled over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. Even after washing, there was still a dingy yellow stain there from repeated wettings, a reminder of why I was in the predicament. As I laid down, mommy came over with a warm bottle… and Jake. Jake was my best friend. He never yelled at me when I had accidents. He never called me stupid or smelly. He was always ready to give me hugs and comfort me. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. I was so grateful Jake would stay with me for my nap. I reached out for him and clutched him close. “Now drink this. Maybe then you’ll calm down.” I was reluctant, since I wasn’t thirsty, and I was worried I’d wet the bed again if I drank anything. I shook my head no. “Well if you’re going to nap without your bottle, maybe you can nap without Jake.” I squeezed Jake tighter and moaned. “Then open up.” I opened my mouth a little and mommy slid the nipple in. Without thinking, I started suckling, and the warm milk started squirting out into my mouth, down my throat, and into my tummy. Mommy gently guided my free hand over the bottle and helped me grasp it, then pulled up the sheets. “Now don’t get out of bed until I tell you, and don’t try to take off your diaper. Just drink your bottle, and I’ll do some laundry.” With that, she turned off the lights, left the room, and closed the door. I kept suckling my bottle on autopilot while I looked at my situation. I was back in diapers, and I didn’t know how long until mommy let me try to potty train. I reached down under the blankie and felt the plastic covering my pee-pee. I knew I wouldn’t get the bed all wet, but I was still sad I couldn’t be a big boy anymore. I took the bottle out of my mouth and turned to Jake. “Can I still be a big boy?” I listened to Jake’s answer, then I responded. “I guess so. Mommy knows best.” I kept suckling the warm milk out of the bottle until it was all done. I was so sleepy from all the chaos that’d happened. Just as it was empty, I let the bottle fall from my mouth and hugged Jake tighter. At least I was warm. Warm from the milkies, warm from my blankie, warm from Jakie, and warm in my diapie… Did I just have another accident? I fell asleep before I could answer.

Hey guys, ifs been about 3 years since I wore diapers, but I recently got back into it and I ordered some patterned diapers I liked for now, but now after using one again I am looking into ordering a big box. Since I now have no rent going forward for a few years, I have more money to spend...elsewhere (hehe) so I was wondering what would you guys recommend? I'm looking for the best i can get for the fairest price for a bag, but I'm also open to suggestions of any kind. I only wet, so that's my main priority. I want it to be comfortable and able to hold a lot (preferably without smelling). I don't mind wrinkles, often I enjoy them; but I'm not necessarily looking for that. Just mainly comfortable, leak proof, can hold a lot, and I'd prefer patterned ones of some kind. Though I'm okay with blank ones as i can always draw my own designs. Anyways I'm off to finish filling this tie-dye-per to the brim and head to bed

Three Trains By Sophie & Pudding I'll be releasing this story over the next few weeks. It's about 5 chapters long, and all of it is currently available on SubscribeStar: www.subscribestar.adult/sophieandpudding Premise: Campbell and Harlow have been talking online for months, but they have never met in person. They plan to meet up at the train station in Harlow’s town, but disaster strikes when Campbell misses the stop. Is this a bad omen, or will Harlow find a way to salvage the date? Disclaimers: m/m, diapers, wetting, sex ----------------------------- The First Train People often talked about seasickness. Even car sickness was a thing! And general motion sickness to boot. But train sickness? Campbell had spent the last hour doing everything possible to try and stave off the waves of nausea and discontent. Clicky clacky. Clicky clacky. Clicky clacky. The scenery seemed to go by slowly. Campbell was full of anxiety: meeting someone for the first time in real life. It was such a stupid idea; online had so much more protection! Two screens at least. And some phone lines. Did the internet even still use phone lines? Campbell was so busy with the whole train sickness thing that the person who sat down across from him went completely unnoticed. Until they talked. "You know, Policy St. Station was the last stop?" "That's nice," Campbell mumbled, not looking up. "You look even cuter than in your pictures, you know." Pictures? Campbell finally looked up to see a familiar face. Familiar, like when you walk around a stranger's house and recognize people from one picture in the others. His heart skipped a beat. "Harlow?" He was taller than Campbell expected. A little stockier, around the shoulders and the ribs. His dark wavy hair was mostly hidden by a beanie, speckled with tiny dots of snow. He must have just gotten on the train. It really was him... "I knew you'd forget to get off at the station, you goofball. Probably had your head so deep in your phone that you didn't even notice. Probably worrying about something-or-other~" Campbell looked at Harlow. Then Campbell looked down at his phone, out the window, and then at his own lap. "I got trainsick… how did you even know I was actually on the train?" "I didn’t," Harlow shrugged. "You don’t seem like the type to stand me up though, so I figured there was some other explanation. Campbell stared dumbfounded; Harlow had put a lot of trust in him, boarding the train like that. "It sucks that you got trainsick," Harlow said. "Let’s get off at the next station." And then, just like in the movies, the announcer came over the train speakers to let everyone know that the next station was almost an hour away. "Well, that sucks," Campbell sighed, but his traveling companion didn’t seem fazed. Harlow had a presence about him that Campbell had only seen on TV. He went around the car asking for motion sickness medicine until he managed to find an older gentleman who had some left over from his flight last week. He gave Harlow two pills, who in turn gave them to Campbell. "It's remarkable how you can just go up to strangers and ask for things," Campbell said in awe. He took the two pills and put them in his mouth, drinking a swig from his water bottle. He never left home without his water bottle. How long until the medicine kicked in? "It's no different to when I said hello to you the first time on Discord. Or when I slid into your DMs," Harlow said with a wink. "Sometimes you just gotta ask for the things you want." With that sentiment hanging in the air, Campbell had no choice but to extrapolite. Harlow wanted him. It was a weird feeling to have; like sixty-three butterflies in his stomach arguing over whatever-it-is-that-butterflies-argue-over. Something worth getting all aflutter about. "Hah. You're even cuter when you blush," Harlow said, sitting next to Campbell once again. "I knew you would be. Nobody who uses blushy emojis as often as you do does so without having a super cute blush." "I don't think there's a strong correlation between the use of blushy emojis and actually blushing," Campbell argued, but in his case, the correlation was extremely strong. It was nearly 1. Harlow looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. "This is a little unfortunate," he siad. "I had ideas of places we could go, and now we are stuck on this train." "Oh, I'm sorry," Campbell said quickly. "I should have been paying more attention to the stops. This is all my fault." "Well, it is your fault you didn't get off at the right station," Harlow agreed, "but I'm here with you and the people mean more than the venue. And by the time we get to the station, we'll probably have gotten past the awkward phase, right? We’ll be all laughter and kissy kissy." Campbell didn't understand how people like Harlow existed in the world; hadn't he ever heard of anxiety? Did some people just go around being all normal? Wild. "Harlow, you know I've never..." "Kissed anybody, I know." Actually Campbell had kissed people, but it was never on his terms. It was pushy girls or social expectations, so they didn’t count to Harlow. "But we're gonna fix that little shortcoming; I promised that we would." A first kiss on a train was pretty romantic, Campbell thought. But the notion of kissing this man he'd only just met today... and what if he wasn't a good kisser? What if Harlow didn't want to see him anymore, after such an awful kiss. Campbell grew quiet and looked down at his phone. 44 minutes until the next stop. "I see you thinking! This is like when we roleplay, and you write these big long internal thoughts - but ah! This time I have the upper hand, because I've been writing with you for months. So let's take a guess!" Harlow tilted his head and pursed his lips, leaning around to look at Campbell’s face. "You are thinking... what if you're not a good kisser? Or worse, what if Harlow - and by that I mean me - isn't a good kisser? Am I close?" "The first one," Campbell laughed nervously. The thought that Harlow wasn't a good kisser didn't even cross his mind. Upon seeing him, Campbell knew without a doubt that Harlow would be a good kisser. Nonetheless, his skill at reading Campbell's mind was impressive. "Well, you have the home-field advantage. You got on the train first, so I think that’s how it works. Admittedly, I’ve never watched baseball, but that sounds right." Harlow grinned. He had a damn pretty smile for a boy. It kinda made Campbell melt a little bit. Harlow was just as stupid in person as he was online, but that seemed to put Campbell at ease. There was something very disarming about playfully stupid men. By the time the meds started to kick in, Campbell was feeling a lot more comfortable with Harlow. "Are you still feeling sick?" Harlow asked. "Less so," Campbell admitted. He checked his phone again. 35 minutes. "Rad. Because..." Harlow peered at Campbell’s phone with an analytical look and then moved his lips right to the ear of the latter; speaking in one of those 'kind of loud for a whisper, but still functionally private tones.' "That means I have 35 minutes to kiss you, and convince you that I'm just as smooth and dreamy in person as you say I am online." As time ticked on, Campbell wondered exactly how sincere Harlow's words were. Every movement Harlow made, every touch Harlow gave, every glance Harlow shot... each was dripping with intention. But none of them were a kiss. But they were holding hands. Or rather, Harlow was holding Campbell's hand in his, running his thumb along the back of it. Campbell checked his phone again, like he did every few minutes. 9 minutes. There were three minutes left on the clock when Harlow made his move. And it wasn't motivated by the time until arriving at the station. No, it was triggered by the passengers at the front of the carriage getting up and moving into the vestibule compartment in preparation to get off at the station. Harlow waited until the two of them were alone, because he knew full well that Campbell would be so much more comfortable with some relative privacy. Harlow put a hand on Campbell’s cheek to guide his face, and then he pressed his lips to Campbell’s. And with one smooth motion, he pushed him down onto the bench seat, and continued to kiss him. Kissing was a lot like it looked on TV, Campbell thought. His head was swirling with things he thought he should be doing, but each thought was buffeted away by another crash of Harlow's lips to his. One after another, until his thoughts were a senseless little puddle and there was nothing but the tingling on his lips. When it was over, Campbell's cheeks were pink and Harlow was hurrying him off the train. He stumbled behind Harlow, trying to keep his footing, until they were on the station platform and Campbell's labored breaths made puffs of misty fog in front of his mouth.

As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. Welcome back everyone! This tale will definitely be more of a traditional DD story (with this one actually being in the other dimension rather than a con), but I also made the decision to modify a few bits of my original plan since last year based on the feedback that I got with a few of my other stories. As such, some of this might feel a little reversing of time or the plot in some ways, but I promise that it will all add up in the end to a better story than I originally had. Also, as a warning, like the last one, some of this could be a bit meta, and while I think it works well, I thought I would at least point it out to you all here in the first chapter. Looking ahead, so far this story is about 16 chapters, but there may be more as I continue to write it all down and figure out a few later plot details more in depth. Additionally, I was originally debating on if I should start posting this story before or after my upcoming trip, but I decided to just post it beforehand. Therefore, next week, I will be leaving this story on a cliffhanger of sorts. When it comes, I will remind you all again of this planned pause. Also, just in case there is anyone reading this story who has not read my others, I would highly encourage you to check out the following link to the first story (The CONvention) in this planned trilogy. I explain a few things in the beginning of this story when they come up as a reminder, but reading my previous work would likely help explain a few things going on here a little better at the start. Link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/86499-the-convention-a-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-15-complete/ Next, speaking of sequels, in my last big post at the end of The Opening story, I mentioned that this would be the year of sequels, but since then, I have been looking over the myriad of stories that I could be writing and realized that some stories could be more desired by you all than others. While I absolutely want to write this one and the Tell Me More sequel at some point this year, I think I am going to give you all a chance for some feedback for what I do next. At the end of this story, I will lay out at least three new stories that I could work on next. Each will be something that I want to work on, so I can still be happy in all this, so no need to fret there, but I know some of my stories have been more popular than others, so if anyone has any strong feelings about the next story at that point, please just let me know then. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of my new story! Chapter 1: Welcome To Another World Falling. Tumbling. All at once, I could feel the void before me. I could see the pure nothingness below and all around me! Dropping. Plummeting. There was an emptiness in my stomach, a dryness in my throat, and itching over my skin. I was so scared. I wanted to cry but no tears would come. ‘Where was mommy?’ I tried to hold onto her hand, but it was no use. She slipped away from me, and I was all alone. Vulnerable. Terrified. More falling, tumbling, and hurtling through the void of space. ‘I’m so scared! I’m going to be lost to this nothingness without mommy. Where is she? Where’s my mommy? Why has she left me? Why… wait…’ In all the confusion and chaos surrounding me completely, one thing actually started to become oddly clearer: my mind. It was as if I had been dunked into the icy waters of Maine for a polar bear swim in the early mornings like I did at camp one summer, but I wasn’t in pain… at least not in the typical sense. I still felt very alone and frightened, but I just felt suddenly clearer. I didn’t even need to push myself to get there. It was just… there like it was oddly the most natural thing in the world. Almost like the sediment settling into a glass… ‘But mommy…’ I shook my head as the universe of colors swarmed around me. ‘No… not mommy… her… Samantha… we were at the convention and then… oh god!’ I panicked as I saw the emptiness around me once more with my now clearer head and felt the magnitude of what I had just done. This woman that I had just met… I had followed her and had clearly left Earth, and right then, I felt like my senses as well. Now, I was tumbling through whatever all this murky darkness and swirls of colors was. It was all blinding and all nothingness at the same time, but ahead of me, just out of reach, something was clear. It took a moment for my eyes to make sense of it, but I realized it was an opening in all this. No. Not an opening. More like a tear, but still… it seemed the way out of all this mess. Fortunately, whether I willed it or not, the sucking and plummeting happening all around my body were pulling me towards that one direction. Still, in utter panic, I shut my eyes for fear of being eviscerated or atomized into nothingness. Then, all at once, the plummeting stopped. My feet touched solid ground. I opened my eyes, but I wished I had kept them closed. After all that, I never would have believed that thought would have ever entered my head, but there it was. When I first opened my eyes, I thought I was dreaming… hallucinating… something, but every time I tried to rub my eyes, the sight before me just wouldn’t vanish. There, only a few feet away, was still Samantha, Chelsea, Ditzy, Derek, and Luna, but something was massively different about at least a few of them. As I stepped back slightly to the now solid wall at my back, I tilted my head up toward Samantha and my pacifier just dropped out of my mouth. Now, she had been maybe a little taller than me before, but now… she easily was almost double my height. I felt nauseous. I wanted to pass out… or to wake up from this whole odd nightmare or fever dream, but my body wasn’t allowing me. Samantha’s hand, now clutching onto mine once more, wasn’t allowing me to. “Easy, there, sweetie,” she cooed from above. I awed in her presence before, but now, I felt like an ant… a child… Chelsea chuckled from nearby. “I think you might need to help him out there a bit, Sam. Some Littles lose some or all of their mental blocks coming through from the meds… though, I don’t think I can say exactly the same for these two, huh?” She then bent over herself to the smaller figures of Ditzy and Derek before her and smiled widely. “Isn’t that right?” she babyishly cooed at the two. “I think mommy very much still has her two little toe munchers!” With my now more alert brain, I could only stare in shock as the two just giggled along right along with her demeanor normally reserved for children. Of course, we had all just come from a con where one of the main goals was to be treated younger, but this just felt different. Maybe it was the size difference now and the real sense of power that Chelsea and Samantha now exuded in their significantly taller bodies, but all I knew was that it downright unnerved me to my core. Terrified, I turned around to face the tear where I had just come from. Despite backing up into a solid wall moments ago, I still hoped that somehow, I was wrong. As I turned though, a lump formed in my throat as whatever had pulled me into this world was now gone. Now, it was just a large and firm white concrete wall that stretched up at least 50 feet to the ceiling overhead, only being interrupted by a few outlying thick metal cables that similarly wrapped around most of the rest of the large room we were in. The shadows on the wall before me then shifted, and I was worried that something was about to eat me in this strange new world. I mean, after all, I had just come through some void portal type thing and three people I had come to know pretty well were suddenly at least two feet or more taller. Horrifyingly, the thought of some alien monster eating me whole right then didn’t seem so farfetched. When I spun back around to see who or what it was, ready for the worst though, I saw that it was just Samantha crouching down from her high-up position to look at me more directly now as a comforting parent might do to their child. “Hey there, honey. I know this all must be a lot all at once but let me explain a few things. You…” I crossed my arms and glared at her. “Forget it.” I felt like my trust had been betrayed by this woman now before me. Maybe it was whatever she had given me, but I thought I knew her well enough to embarrassingly call her ‘mommy.’ Now though, I felt like it was all a lie and that I had now been almost kidnapped in a way to another strange world. From my single moment of defiance to her, Samantha seemed more stunned than anything else and there was just a moment of silence between us for a moment afterward. It was quickly broken however when both of us could clearly hear someone clearing their throat. Samantha and I looked to the culprit nearby. “I could help if you wanted, sis,” Chelsea slyly offered with her still-sinister eyes staring at me up and down like a predator would do to their next meal. “I wouldn’t mind taking this one in and showing them the rules of this world. You know how I am with Lit…” “I’ve got this!” Samantha quickly spoke up, silencing her sister. “Now, just attend to your own. You’ve already done enough by bringing your own Littles along in the first place. I don’t need you mucking up another Little.” Her words were cold and calculating and I could still sense the tension that I had witnessed between the two before we left. ‘What was going on between them now?’ I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Samantha swiftly turned her attention back to me. As soon as she met my gaze, her frown then quickly evaporated. “Sorry about her. She can be a bit… much. I guess I should know having lived with her and all when we were little… Oh boy, did we have some fights…” she chuckled to herself. She was clearly trying to ease the tension that I was giving off, but I wasn’t having it. I was terrified in my own way, but I didn’t want to show this vulnerability to her… this… giantess. With my mind clearer now than before, I wanted to punch her squarely in the face. Sure, I had some desire to be treated like this… there were even a few stories I had read that played out this very scenario… but that’s all they were. They were just my fantasies. To be here now staring up at this woman, even when she was crouched, who seemed to now be nearly twice my height… I wasn’t amused or swayed by her efforts. I guess my poker face wasn’t up to snuff and that all my feelings were highly evident to her. As such, Samantha’s own smile soon faded. “I’m guessing that you’re definitely all you then… am I right?” I swiftly nodded and she sighed deeply. “I was afraid of that happening. It’s always a risk we take when we bring any of you all back, but in an odd way… I’m kind of glad.” I thought I could see something else behind her eyes… like the gears of her mind were already turning, but I still barely knew this woman in hindsight. She was amazing at the con, but now, all that had changed. She hadn’t exactly lied to me, but now, I felt that anything that I knew about her before all this, couldn’t be trusted… doubly so with what she told me. With my mind back, I felt like we were starting all over. Still though… I couldn’t help but feel an odd connection with her. That being said, Samantha started back up before I could dwell on those thoughts any longer. “You know, this way, we’ll actually be able to talk to each other,” she said, clearly trying to smile her way back into my heart. Frustratingly, it was working a little. “It means a few other things might be a bit more difficult, but this could actually help with everything…” She then trailed off a bit. I almost wanted to know what was running through her head right now, and what she meant by ‘help,’ but the sound of approaching footsteps quickly broke my thoughts. Samantha immediately stood back up and seemed to take an almost defensive position in front of me. Looking behind the rest of our group, from the thud of boots on the ground, I could see another group rapidly approaching us in formation. They seemed organized and nearly flawless in their appearance, but each also carried an intensity of coiled-up power that could have struck at any moment. To be honest, even beyond their size, it alone definitely intimidated me a bit. Once they got right in front of us, they all stopped at the same time and the person at the front of the three columns of these new giants stepped forward. “By the authority of the Academy of Extra Dimensional Travel, I want to welcome you all back, or for some of you, here for the first time. First, before anything though, you need to go through decontamination.” She then clapped her hands and the ranks behind her began to disperse and descend upon us. A few of the more intimidating members of the group in dark uniforms stayed behind though. As the members drew nearer, the man spoke once more and now directed himself to both Chelsea and Samantha directly. “Also, you two will be briefed as well. Be sure to tell them everything. And I mean everything.” I felt a tiny spark of fear travel up my spine, but, neither Chelsea nor Samantha looked shocked at all by all this, so I guessed this was probably just protocol. Still though, I didn’t want to be separated from the one grounding force in my life. She may have lied, omission or otherwise, but she was still a stable figure in all this madness and chaos. So, maybe out of instinct or something more in the back of the lingering feelings for her in my heart from the con, I edged closer to Samantha’s side. At first, she seemed shocked by my near childish actions, but she only looked down on me tenderly when I bumped into her leg. “It’s okay, Percy. These people just want to help you out… make sure you’re not sick or that you’ll get others sick here. We’ll see each other soon. Promise. Just go with them and do what they say.” Her words were just that at this point with how I was feeling, but it was still a promise that I could bottle up and hold onto for the time being as the masked and gowned individuals rapidly approached all around us. Acknowledging what she just said, and to ensure no one thought that I was going to be a problem, I just nodded my head and waited for further instructions. The last thing I needed was to insight insurrection or rebellion in an unknown world without any means of escape. So, as I figured, the gowned and masked figures soon separated our group cleanly into three sets. Luna went with one set of the masked and gowned figures, Chelsea and Samantha with another, and Ditzy, Derek, and I went with yet another. It was the first time I could see the separations of our group solely by our height, but it definitely wouldn’t be the last. To my utter chagrin though, my group was the shortest and it immediately became clear to me what our new captors of a sort thought about us. Coming only up to their stomachs at best, I knew we likely appeared to be children to these giants, but I hated the assumption. Still, I felt pretty confident that I was in what I could assume to be a hostile nation, so I still remained quiet and non-threatening. See, I had seen plenty of TV over the years to know that being in a hostile nation, one had to think about the enemy constantly. Samantha seemed like a good person, but I also worried that Chelsea could be more of the usual type around here with their species. So, as such, I needed to keep my mental abilities a secret for now and just comply with everything that they threw at me. With any luck, it could throw them off balance when I decided to strike and escape, or, if nothing else, my more passive state could allow me to gleam information from them when they thought I was no more mentally aware than my companions. Even if I did slip a little bit, even hiding half my natural mental so psychological abilities could prove useful in the long run. Speaking of my companions, as the masked and gowned personnel escorted off to one hallway, a few in front of us and a few behind, I tried to get either Ditzy’s or Derek’s attention. Curiously enough, while Ditzy seemed to just be enraptured in the moment, Derek just looked more confused than anything. Ditzy didn’t seem aware of what was happening in the slightest, but Derek… he almost seemed like he knew something was wrong, but just didn’t quite have enough mental power to be able to comprehend it all. So, I tried to talk with my friend to see if I could move his thoughts along to become an ally over here. “Derek… Derek…” I whispered. I didn’t want these giants leading and following us to hear that I had the ability reason or command others… at least not yet that is. “Derek… you okay buddy? You in there? Come on, man.” He looked at me quickly but then almost fumbled over his own shoes in his distracted state. I quickly caught my buddy, but besides his accident there, the subtle hiss I heard from nearby alerted me to the fact that he could do little else for him now beyond those types of small things. It was now clear to me that, at least for the time being, I couldn’t rely on him. Sighing, and determined to at least view all my options, I then turned my attention to Ditzy. I hoped that maybe there was something I could get out of her… some hidden spark of life in her head, but instead, she just cooed and smiled at me. At one point before the people in front of us stopped, I saw her make an angry face, and I thought that maybe she was coming to her senses, but I was only rewarded with a small fart coming from her rear… or at least that’s all I hoped it was. “Hold here,” the head of our new group announced as he stopped along a corridor. Ditzy and Derek didn’t seem to warrant his words and only stopped when a few of the other gowned and masked people around us stopped them physically. Derek looked confused and Ditzy just giggled. “Right…” the man said before then heavily sighing. “Not sure if you Littles even know what I’m saying, but just follow those who help you out and be prepared to be processed through these doors.” He then nodded to the rest of those around us. “Cleaners? Go to work.” Immediately, the gowned and masked ‘cleaners’ around us then split us up individually. Derek whimpered and Ditzy whined sadly for a moment, but the cleaners seemed to be used to this type of reaction and quickly distracted them both as they were then each guided into their own separate rooms. Then, the cleaners nearest to me swooped in and started to guide me forward as well. While I couldn’t see their mouths due to the masks, I could see the look of tension immediately turn to relief when I didn’t cry out or put up a fight against them. ‘Should I have?’ I wasn’t sure if that would maintain my cover better or not, but regardless, the two cleaners then escorted me into my own room. Inside was mostly tile with a large box-shaped glass shower in one corner. A few nozzles and a drain made up the rest of the shower while storage bins lined the walls next to it. With some appreciated gentleness on their part, the man and woman cleaner guided me into the room. Seeing the shower, I guess it should have been obvious, but I was still surprised when they began to strip off my clothing. “Oh? It looks like one of the recruiters might have claimed this one, Jimmy,” the woman remarked as she viewed my diaper, one which I couldn’t now clearly see wasn’t one I recognized at all from the numerous sellers back at the con. “Why do they always do that? I mean, claim them before anyone else?” Jimmy shrugged. “Who knows, Nance? We’re cleaners and not recruiters, so we only see the aftermath of all they or the hunters do, even when we go over there. Still though,” he paused and looked me over, “this one is a bit of a cutie. I mean, look at this thing.” Jimmy then pulled out my stuffed tiger, Stripe. I didn’t want to be that person here, but I also really wanted to give him a squeeze. It could have been viewed as a weakness or giving into how they likely already viewed me, but in times where one is stripped to nothing but their diaper and socks and staring at a shower, which could only mean one thing next, one tends to want the small comforts in their lives. “Very cute,” Nancy replied. “Put it back though. All this needs to be decontaminated officially. Down the hatch like usual, Jimmy.” I didn’t want to, but I just couldn’t help it. A tiny whimper escaped from the back of my throat. Both instantly looked at me. I wished I could say that’s all that happened, but my emotions were still in flux, so I was realizing just how little control I still had over some of my actions, feeling so vulnerable and even maybe still being affected a bit by whatever Samantha had given me at the con. “Please… not Stripe.” “Ah,” Jimmy began as he smirked a bit, “so you can talk. I was wondering that, but don’t worry little one. He just needs to get cleaned. Just like you.” Nancy then put a foreign but oddly reassuring warm hand on my shoulder. “Yeah. By the time you’re on your way out of here, he’ll be right there with you.” I still didn’t want him to leave, being one of the seemingly last tethers here in this new world to my old life back on Earth, but I just nodded. “Perfect,” Jimmy noted as he put Stripe back in my backpack. He then walked over to the side of the room and opened what looked like a mail slot chute and dropped my clothing and backpack down it. After the chute clanged shut, he turned back around and began to walk toward the shower and popped it on. Steam soon began to fill up the room. Nancy then used her still warm and comforting hands to face me toward her. “Now… Percy, right?” I nodded, quickly wondering how this virtual stranger knew my name. “Good. I know all this must be a little scary, but we just need to clean you up and make sure you don’t get anyone over here sick or anything, okay?” “Okay…” I said quietly. ‘Why was I so shy around everyone now? I wasn’t exactly the social butterfly back home, but I could have at least put up some resistance to these people… was I still changed from whatever Samantha had given me?’ I didn’t want to think about it, so I just turned back to the reassuring smile of Nancy in front of me. “Alright then. Take these first.” She then handed me a few pills, and oddly enough, I took them without question. Nancy only smiled back. “Very good, Percy. They’ll help with your inside cleansing. Now, we need to get your outsides cleaned.” She then bent down and looked directly into my eyes. “I know some of you might be a little shy around some of this still, but just take a few breaths for me. I promise… I don’t want to hurt you.” Still nervous, I did as she asked, but I also wondered why she was asking me to do tha… ‘Oh!’ With clearly practiced precision, Nancy quickly ripped off my diaper in nearly one large pull. My hands immediately shot to my front and Nancy and Jimmy just chuckled but still said nothing. I blushed about as hard as I could, but just complied and steadied myself against her when Nancy then removed my socks and backed me up toward the shower. “Okay. In you get now.” I looked behind me and it honestly looked just like any normal high-end shower, though slightly peculiar as the two near-giants before me flanked it on either side. I still wasn’t sure what to make of all these people’s heights compared to mine, but with the water fully steaming now and looking ever-so inviting, I stepped in. Both Nancy and Jimmy smiled and closed the door to seal me inside under the relaxing waters. The glass walls of the shower were quickly fogging up, but I could still make out the forms at my eye level of both the cleaners outside. “Okay. Now, we need to give you a good scrubbing with some special suds. It’s tear-free and all but it will get down into your pores,” Jimmy announced from above. I wanted to ask so many other questions, but the water slightly drowned me out and two large scrub brushes soon descended onto my body and began rubbing me everywhere. At first, it almost felt luxuriating, but the brushes did their work well… almost too well. My skin became extremely sensitive under the hot water and somehow, I could feel the soapsuds almost seeping into my skin in real-time. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant… just uncomfortable in some strange way. Soon, however, the scrubbing stopped and after a moment of being soaked once more by the hot water, Jimmy turned off the shower. Nancy then opened the door and held a giant fluffy light blue towel open in both her hands. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you dry and dressed, shall we?” I was still very conscious of my naked form, so I practically dove headfirst into the towel, much to the amusement of Nancy and Jimmy. Then, after a brief toweling, I felt almost miraculously dry, and I was soon guided to another door in the room. Entering through, I couldn’t believe my eyes over what I was witnessing before me. I guess I should have guessed a room like this was coming eventually with all that I had seen, but a nursery seemingly built to your size as if you were an actual toddler… it was something else to behold entirely. Sure, the con had some amazing stuff, but baring a few outliers, almost everyone was within a foot height-wise of each other. Here though, with the giants all around me and the nursery being just about my size… it was nearly overwhelming. “Keep going, Percy. We need to get you dressed and all,” Nancy coaxed my stunned form, guiding me further into the room. Then, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised either when I was quickly led to a changing table, where I then noticed that both Ditzy and Derek were also lying on their own now. I wanted to call out to them, but Derek still seemed confused from this angle as a thick diaper was pulled up between his legs, so I thought better of it. Ditzy fussed for a moment herself, but then was quickly distracted by a set of dangling multi-color plastic keys. So, once again, I knew I couldn’t be too reliant on my compatriots for any measure of comfort or even simple interaction. Nancy then righted herself to the changing table and faced me. “Alright, up we go!” she cheered. Then, without any other warning, she tightly gripped me under my armpits and hoisted me right onto the changing table. If this wasn’t a tiny part of some fantasy of mine coming true, I’d be lying, but I also would be massively lying to say that I wasn’t scared at the same time. Still, as Nancy pushed me down and secured a belt over my naked chest, I had little time to ponder such opposites. “Jimmy… how about you go get the pre-prepared Little clothing ready. I’m thinking the blue stripe romper for this one and the rest will just be the standard outgoing.” Jimmy nodded and went to the other side of the room. Nancy then switched her attention back to me. “Okay… you just lie still, Percy, and all this will be over really quick, okay?” I nodded and prayed silently that she was right. The next few minutes then became a series of me shutting my eyes really tight until Nancy started some new process and would cause my eyes to bulge open and a whimper would escape my mouth. First, it was when she pulled the towel away. Second, was when she started wiping me down. Third, was when she hoisted my legs up in the air. Fortunately, true to her word, the change was soon over, and I was face-to-face with another thick diaper taped about my waist. “Geez, you here what they did, Pepper?” one of the other cleaners asked. “No. What, Trevor?” Pepper asked, clearly intrigued. “These Littles…” Trevor continued. “Their mommies stole them from the Academy’s possession quota and went over their designated standard recruitment numbers. I heard the field cleaners today had to do a lot just to accommodate their screw up. Mark my words, heads are going to roll. You think…” “I think you all should mind your own business,” Nancy quickly interjected between the two. “This one might still be with us mentally and all. You know how Littles are here… you never know what they might say back to anyone here. Including you-know-who…” Pepper and Trevor’s mouths hung open for a second before they then quickly snapped back to Ditzy and Derek as they finished their own changing process. The room then remained deathly silent with the thinly veiled threat that Nancy had made. “Here you are, Nancy,” Jimmy said, breaking the silence after coming back over with my new clothing. Nancy quickly took them. “Yes, thank you, Jimmy. How about you go check on his other items we sent to decontamination, and I finish up here?” Jimmy only nodded and scampered off out of the room. Nancy once again turned her attention back to me, and in only a few minutes, she was attaching the last strap of my shoes across my feet. Nancy then helped me down and led me out through yet another set of doors. This time, they led to another corridor and then out to a massive lobby. The ceiling shimmered in reflective glass and marble columns interspersed the area between accents of cooper and brass. It was all very impressive and a smidge intimidating. While walking before all that though, I couldn’t help but wonder what Trevor was talking about from earlier with Samantha and Chelsea. From my almost Swiss cheese memories right before we stepped through whatever all that was to come here, I knew that Samantha had been upset at Chelsea about something. I couldn’t remember what exactly, but I knew an angry tone of voice when I heard one. As we then waited in the lobby for a moment, I pondered this exact thing further. It was strange almost with how I felt about Samantha. On the one hand, she had drugged me and taken me without my complete and sober consent, but on the other… she was someone who had at least seemed to care about me. It might have all just been her own caring way or simply have been a way to get me here I will admit, but at the same time, my options were limited in the number of people I could actually rely on. As Ditzy exited first, her fingers partially exploring her own mouth with the utmost glee, her whole presence and even the short pink dress she was wearing essentially confirmed that my allies were slim to none around here… particularly if you counted those who could still speak. I didn’t have to fully like or submit to Samantha mind you, but as far as allies went, I knew she was my best bet of maybe eventually going back home… or at least not getting snatched away and making this whole situation even worse than it already was. I mean, that’s how these things always went. Stupid main character gets in over their head and winds up kidnapped and regressed. It was me almost verbatim, except that I had already been ‘kidnapped’ of a sort. I didn’t want to repeat the whole thing with someone I didn’t even know, so I just moved awkwardly out of the view of a few of the more intense giant lookers. Since I had come here, I had noticed them, but here in the lobby, I was getting very uncomfortable under their stares. Fortunately, after all that, our wait didn’t last too much longer, and we were soon joined by the rest of the group and the cleaners soon departed back into the building. As soon as Chelsea and Samantha arrived though, our crowd grew exponentially, and the pair were bombarded by a hoard of questions from other giants in the lobby. “How are you two?” “How was the trip?” Did Shitake… no, Shawshank… no, shish kabob… you know what I mean… did it go okay?” “Are these your Littles?” Which ones are yours, Chelsea, or yours, Samantha?” “Why do they seem so… wait, did you perform a Code Zero on them already?” Did you all break the rules again?” “What about the rest of us?” “Don’t we deserve our own Littles as well?” It was all frankly almost too overwhelming. With Samantha, my one coherent even remote semblance of an ally nearby, I soon shyly and yes, even childishly hid behind her legs for some measure of comfort against all these giants. She too was wearing something different, this time sporting just some slacks and a blouse, but her comforting presence remained as strong as ever. Fortunately, right as I could tell that the crowd was definitely getting to Ditzy and Derek, two more people entered the fray. “Alright, alright. Back it up!” Luna announced. “Yes!” the red head followed. “I know you all have several questions for two of our most esteemed recruiters, but that will need to come later.” The crowd audibly groaned. “Yes, yes. Big disappointment I know, but we will let you all know when you can ask your questions later. For now, just go back about your business.” The crowd seemed visibly frustrated, but then quickly dispersed after that and the two nearly twirled back around to our group. “Thank you, Luna. You were very good,” Samantha praised. “Thank you, Samantha, but Harriet here should get the real credit,” Luna said, gesturing over to the red head beside her. “She did the real moving. You all know how that’s not really who I am.” The red head blushed a bit. “Oh stop, Luna. You’re just as good. I just wanted to help out Samantha and Chelsea. Nothing anyone else wouldn’t do.” Samantha smiled back at her. “Perhaps, but you are a very good assistant to us, Harriet. You’ll make an excellent recruiter one day when you graduate.” “Better than me at least…” Chelsea scoffed, now currently playing with Ditzy’s hair, much to my friends clear and drooling delight. “Hmmm…” Samantha said, clearly still not amused with her sister. “You know… you could at least try to act like…” Everyone then stopped and turned back around as soon as we heard the thudding of multiple footsteps once again. I was half expecting it to be more cleaners, but instead, only a crowd of very forceful individuals were now marching our way, now all dressed in the dark uniforms I had seen earlier with the cleaners group. Two were dressed in judges’ robes while the rest just wore some type of professional attire. “Recruiter 99 and 108?” “Yes?” Chelsea and Samantha asked nearly at the same time, both clearly looking a little nervous to whoever this person speaking was. The uptight woman then moved closer and stared both of them down, being at least half a foot easily over both of them. “It is my duty today to take you both into custody. Judge security… arrest them.” To my horror, several security guard-looking people descended onto both Chelsea and Samantha. Chaos then ensued. Luna and Harriet tried to defend the two and demanded an explanation of the charges. Ditzy and Derek began to freak out over losing their caregiver so abruptly. Chelsea may not have been my favorite person, but in their regressed states, she was practicality Ditzy’s and Derek’s whole world now. As for me, I watched as my one true confidant and person most likely to help me, was taken away in cuffs. To say that I began to panic in my own way was a massive understatement. “What are the charges?” Luna pleadingly asked as their friends and mentors were taken away. “Tell us right now,” Harriet demanded. “I’m part of this Academy and I know our rights. They are both recruiters and deserve to know why they are being detained by your forces.” There was a hushed silence amongst the group. Both Chelsea and Samantha looked surprised by their assistant’s sudden declaration, but seemingly also relieved as well. Finally, the lead guard stepped forward. “Maybe for graduated members,” she sneered at Harriet, “but you aren’t one of those, are you?” Harriet’s head dipped and shook back and forth. “That’s what I thought. I might have made an exception for you lot, given the family history and all, but, not today. They pushed it too far this time.” Luna stepped up, and despite them being at least over a foot taller than me now, unlike Harriet, they still had to look up at the lead guard. “Please… will there be a trial at least? For the Littles… and their mother…” Curiously, as soon as they finished their plea, the guard seemed to quickly soften. It occurred right about as Luna said ‘mother,’ but it had to be her sympathies for us… right? And not just some outside lady connected to them? Regardless, the lead guard sighed. “Very well… I can at least inform you all of a trial.” She then reached into her jacket and pulled out a single red envelope that she then handed to Harriet. Harriet took it with hauntingly trembling fingers. “Read this later. It will explain it all… and your role in it.” Harriet and Luna suddenly seemed devastated, but both still nodded. Seemingly satisfied, the lead guard snapped, and the guards began taking Chelsea and Samantha away. Chelsea seemed to just struggle, but Samantha turned around as she was being escorted out of the lobby. “Stay strong and safe,” she called out back to us. “Listen to Harriet and Luna. They’ll keep you safe!” Then, just like that, she disappeared behind a large bronze door. It quickly slammed and the lobby filled with its terrible thunder. Then, there was nothing but silence and the continued whimpers coming from both Ditzy and Derek. Luna seemed to notice this and shook off whatever the red envelope meant and began to console both of them, which quickly evolved into a full-on hug. To be honest, I felt a little left out, but I don’t think I was quite ready to forgive Luna for their deception of us quite yet. Though, from their saddened and panicked face, I felt like at that moment, they needed the hug just as much as the two regressed individuals before them. After a moment, Harriet then placed her hand on their shoulder and Luna broke the hug. Both stared at the red envelope, but Harriet’s watch soon dinged and broke both of their heavy and concentrated faces. Harriet’s eyes bulged out as she looked at the message on her watch. “Oh! That’s her now. We need to get out of here and explain everything right away. She’s going to want to know everything!” Luna nodded. “Right…” They suddenly seemed hesitant. “How do you think she’ll take the news?” Harriet sighed as she began to shuffle us all out of where we were in the lobby. “Not well on one hand I think, but she’s also a professional and a realist. Once she sees and hears what they did, she’ll understand on one level at least… especially given her… history.” “That’s a fair point,” Luna nodded before getting behind Ditzy and pulling her away from another, us-sized individual. Regrettably, they seemed much more like Ditzy and Derek than of my own mental awareness. It wasn’t a good sign of the world I was now about to fully enter. Before leaving the lobby, we all then passed by a single almost coat check-like area by the entrance. I wondered why we were there of all places in a moment like this where everything seemed to be in utter chaos and a worst-case scenario type of situation. After a panicky moment though, I then saw the backpack I had brought with me in coming to this world. To my relief right then, I knew that we were getting our stuff back, but more importantly for my own sake, I was also about to get Stripe back as well. It was at that point that I realized something big that shook me to my core. In essence, I had just lost the one person who could have helped me escape back home. I wasn’t ready to trust Luna quite yet, I didn’t know Harriet at all or had even seen the person we were about to meet, and for all their charm and apparent happiness, Ditzy and Derek were about as helpful to my returning home as Stripe was. Still, as we waited for our items to be checked out and I saw more of all these giants staring at me, I made do with what I had at the time. Luna was shorter than practically everyone else of the upper height category of beings, but I knew I was in desperate need of a protector of some kind around here in this strange land. Maybe Harriet could be that way one day, but for now, I just edged behind Luna’s legs in safety. They weren’t much, but they were something in a land where I had almost nothing now. The clerk chuckled at my actions, but I paid her no mind… I had much more serious concerns on my hands now. In moments, we would meet another person in all this mess and leave the very building that could get me back home. I was on a new and foreign planet, and while such wonders could lie just outside the doors behind us, as another giant looked at me rather uncomfortably and dragged their own glazed-looking me-sized person behind them, I could only worry with great unease over what my future was to be now for the foreseeable future. Distressingly, something told me that I was about to embark on a very rocky road ahead.

It’s A Family Affair Arthur Mitchell had known Betsy Allen since grade school. It was almost destined for them to get together as they were not only neighbors but we're the two in school every year that seemed to have the most wetting accidents. Well why not they were the kids that their parents seemed to have to wash wet sheets for every day because they couldn't seem to keep their's dry. Arthur's and Betsy's mother's were talking and found that both of their kids were nighttime wetters and either or both would almost daily come home from school wet or would be wet before supper. Both were happy to have a sympathetic ear to discuss the raising of bed wetters, and pants wetters. They had tried punishments, no liquids after 1800 hours or 6 pm, getting them up at different hours of the night to go potty, rewards, alarms, medications but nothing seemed to help. Betsy was even called Betsy Wetsy by the other kids and her siblings, that really didn't seem to bother her. Finally both mother's started to diaper their kids day and night which didn't cure them but helped them seem to fit in better at least the other kids quit calling Betsy; Betsy Wetsy other than her siblings who continued to call her that. About the time to start Junior High School both mothers took their child out of day time diapers, but both would either wet on the way home or later during play. But more often than not would be wet at school still so the diapers and plastic pants went back on until high school at least, both mother's thought that they would try it again then. Besides they were still wet at nights and between them both had not had more than a handful of dry nights since they were kids Since their mothers were so close Arthur would go over to Betsy's house with his mother or Betsy would go to Arthur's house with hers. They were left alone most times and the two mother's were oblivious to the budding romance between the two teenagers. Each knew the others secret of what they wore to bed and what they were wearing in the day because when the mothers talked it was as if the kids weren't right there so when the discussions for day wetting and bed wetting each child knew the other was in the same leaky boat so to speak.   This continued through Junior High School and when mom's took them out of diapers in Senior High School, the day wetting had improved but there were still accidents during school. But it was decided to let them stay out of day time diapers, nighttime was a other issue entirely. Neither showed any progress what so ever in that department. In fact, the only change had been the size of the diapers and plastic pants used meaning bigger sizes. Both Arthur and Betsy attended a local College because of their bed wetting decided campus life was not for them. During this time though they were dating and falling deeper and deeper in love with each other. They knew that each other still were bed wetters. Arthur had never called her Betsy Wetsy, telling her it would have made him a hypocrite of he had. Since they were both over 18 they planned on marring each other after college. Arthur got his degree in computer engineering while Betsy graduated with her degree in nursing. Arthur was about 5 foot 10 and was a redhead that bordered on orange he weighed about 135 he looked skinny but was pretty tough as his brothers used to tell him "I'd rather be dead than to wet my bed and be red in the head." After a few years his brothers never picked on him after he'd inflicted bloody noses, fat lips and a few black eyes. Wetting his bed had made him tougher he was sure of it. Betsy was a redhead but not orange like Artnur's, hers was more a copper color and people would say she was cute bordering on beautiful but she had an innocence about her that seemed to make her even more beautiful. When they told their parents that they planned on getting married their parents thought it was a joke. Both were still wetting their diapers at night and looked like they would forever. They brought up the point "that since they were still wetting at night how much luck do you think we would have if we were to date other non bed wetters?" "We would probably never marry and continue to live at home until we're your age!" Both sets of parents had never thought of it like that, but the more the kids talked it made sense. Besides the parents could see the love that they had for each other, and decided that they at least deserved a chance. They were married on Valentine’s day the following year.   About Christmas time Betsy informed Arthur that she was expecting their first child she was about 2 months along. Arthur couldn't have been happier as a matter of fact he was over the moon. When he remembered a statistic that if both parents were bed wetter there was a 70% chance that their kids would be, he wondered what the odds were if both parents were still active bed wetters. He brought this fact up to Betsy who said "if they do are we going to love them any less? Arthur said heck no! Betsy said "We will understand more of what their going through right?" Arthur could only agree. Betsy said "And If they don't have a problem we will teach them to not make fun of the ones who do, including us!" About 7 months later Betsy gave birth to a hefty 13 pound baby boy in mid July that they decided to call Christian after Arthur's grandfather, who went by Chris his whole life. Chris was always big from birth until, well just for ever! Of course he was a bed wetter, but that never stopped him he grew up played football and was a dang good linebacker. Went to college was drafted by the Raiders in the 2nd round had to wear diapers at night because he still wet his bed. No one ever made fun of him because he was so damn big. Some kid on an opposing team while playing football in high school said "I want you bed wetter!" Big mistake, too bad, Chris sacked his Quarterback twice. Once he pushed the guy into his own Quarterback making him trip his own guy for a loss No one ever called him that again. About 4 months after Chris was born Betsy informed Arthur that she was pregnant again and one more time Arthur couldn't have been happier and was still over the moon. She was was again about 2 months along and at the last of April gave birth to not one but two, a girl and a boy. They decided to name the girl Darla after Betsy s grandmother. The boy was a bit harder until Betsy noticed a pattern emerging we have an Arthur, a Betsy, Christian, Darla, so this has to start with E. They named him Ephraim. They got lucky Ephraim wasn't a bed wetter but Darla was not so lucky now they had 4 bed wetters and 1 that didn't. Betsy taught Ephraim that since he was the only child that didn't have problems with bed wetting that he shouldn't make fun of those that do. One night she heard Ephraim making fun of his twin sister Darla calling her ‘Pissy Darla’. Betsy took Ephraim and put a diaper on him and told him "This isn't coming from until morning, get used to it. Ephraim thought that it was a Joke so he wet it so mom would Take it off. “Look at me I'm Pissy Ephraim,” and asked mom to take it off. Mom said "No, I told you it isn't coming off until tomorrow morning!” Ephraim said “But mom I've already wet it to be Pissy Ephraim!” “That's too bad you can sleep in it and find out what it feels like to be real bed wetter like the rest of your family then.” Ephraim figured out that he had gone too far. Trying to sleep was almost impossible; the heat and sweat tended to make him more uncomfortable, so he wet it again and it felt somewhat better, not good. He woke up and went into the bathroom and turned on the light, the light hurt his eyes because he was used to the dark, ouch he said as his eyes started to adjust to the light. He lifted up the toilet seat and began to pee looking around he saw the clothes hamper, and the sink and tub, the shelving over the toilet. Dang this pee felt good, then he remembered that he had a diaper on, wait......! He woke up and the diaper was soaked and had leaked and there was a wet spot in the middle of his bed. That was just a dream, but it seemed so real the light hurt my eyes even. Then he really got worried I have to sleep in my bed and it's wet. Do Mommy and Daddy, And Chris and Darla go through this every night? It's harder to be a bed wetter than I thought, I'll never tease them again. After Darla and Ephraim were born Betsy did not get pregnant again for 2 years then she gave birth to triplets this time 2 girls 1 boy the oldest girl fell in line was named Frances, the boy was Gary, and the girl was named Hermione after a good friend of Betsy's growing up! Frances was the only one not to follow in her parents footsteps and wet her bed the other 2 again weren't so lucky.   With about 2/3 the family are bed wetters the Mitchell's got back to being a family. When Christian was a rookie for the Raiders he was drafted in the second round because the Raiders picked up a Quarterback from LSU in the first round. For some reason he had it in for Chris. When he found out that Chris was a bed wetter he got plain mean, hung Chris's wet diapers out the window on media day, for everyone to see. The QB thought that he was hot stuff, because he was a first rounder. He never missed a trick trying to humiliate Chris even as going as far as the old hand in the water, piss trick. Didn't take much for him to pee his diapers as he used his cell phone to tape it! What he didn't know was Chris may take a little ribbing about his bed wetting, but the QB was way out of line. The next day at scrimmage Chris wouldn't let him get a pass off sacked him three times, knocked down 4 passes and stuffed up the line on a QB sneak he couldn't get anywhere. On ESPN they started talking about what a bust the QB was for the Raiders, but how impressive their new inside linebacker, Chris Mitchell was the talk is they should of taken him first and let the QB fall to the third or fourth round and saved themselves a lot of money. Back to you Dan!

So recently I have been engaging with Novel AI to generate ABDL stories, Well text adventures to be precise. I have really enjoyed them and thought I might post one as a story as well as the components I used to create it. The story itself will be posted raw and unedited, so it might not make perfect sense at times. I am also using the text adventure mode so it will often repeat my prompt in the body of the AI generated content. I am using as my base scenario, the plot from my older story Divorce proceedings. It is set in the diaper dimension. I really kept the inputs to a minimum. What I am looking for is: 1.) Tell me if this was enjoyable to read. 2.) Suggestions for inclusions in "Memory" and "Author's note" (I really did not know what to put in author's note) 2.) Suggestions for the "Lore Book" to better flesh out the Diaper Dimension. Thank you in advance for reading and for your feedback. Memory: Tags: diapers, ABDL, Femdom, hypnosis, forced regression, bondage, forced feminization Genre: erotic sci-fi thriller Synopsis: You are a male Little in your 20’s. Your wife, also a little, wants to divorce you, however she has decided that it would be better for you to be forcibly adopted by an Amazon which would leave her with all of your marital assets. She has after drugging you, dressed you up as an adorable sissy baby. She then intends to leave you in a public place where an Amazon may decide to make your their baby. You are trying to avoid being adopted and forcibly regressed into a baby. Lore Book Entries: ---- Amazonia: The alternate dimension that is populated by Bigs, Mids and Littles. Everything in the world is scaled for Bigs. The society possess advanced technology such as robots, solid holograms and nanobots. Much of this technology is used to keep adopted Littles as babies. Bigs have the right to forcibly adopt Littles and treat them as their own babies. There are laws in place to protect Littles but if a Little displays any sign of immaturity they lose those protections can can be freely adopted. Examples of behavior include wetting or messing pants, throwing a tantrum, making a mess while eating. Etc. Tourists may come from other dimensions to visit and they are often preyed upon by Bigs looting for a Little to Adopt. Activation keys: Amazonia, Dimension ---- Bigs: The dominant race on the planet. They average 10 to 12 feet tall. They have a strong desire to treat Littles as babies. They will constantly look for an excuse to force a Little into babyhood. Activation Keys: Bigs, Amazon, Giants ---- Littles: A race of people generally under 6 feet tall. They develop normally as adult but are often propelled into forced babyhood by Amazons. They have strong sexual response to stimulation. Orgasms for Littles are usually very powerful and leave the Little tired and drained of energy. Activation Key: Little ---- Tweeners: People between 6 and 9 feet tall. Generally treated as adults or older children. Occasionally forcibly babied as preschoolers. Similar to Littles they cannot show any sign of immaturity. Activation keys: Mids, Tweeners, ---- Breastmilk: Amazon breast milk has the following effects on Littles and Mids. 1.) Tastes incredible. 2.) Addictive, 3.) causes bladder incontinence 4.) Causes an intoxicating feeling or milk haze 5.) Causes arousal in Littles Activation keys: Milk, bottle, baba, Nurse, unbutton blouse, expose nipple Adventure: Part 1 You slowly start to wake up not knowing where you are. You feel strange and realize you are dressed in a diaper and a little pink jumper. You open your eyes and the first thing you notice is that the world has changed and now there are Amazons walking around you. > You feel a flash of panic and look around to figure out where you are. You start to panic and look around to try to find out where you are. It is clear from your surroundings that you are at a rest area along a major highway. The rest area has a building with facilities and a number of parking spots for cars. > You look down at your outfit. The diaper and jumper are clearly visible. The diaper looks like it has a design of little teddy bears on it. The jumper is bright pink and has the word baby written in large letters. > You think back to the argument you had with your wife last night. You have a vague recollection of the two of you arguing about something but it was late and the both of you were tired so the argument did not last long. > You feel a vibration in your pocket and pull out a small cell phone. You grab your cell phone from your pocket. It is an older flip style phone. > You open the phone and answer it. You answer the phone and hold it up to your ear. > You ask "Hello?" You say hello but no one responds. You can hear breathing on the other end. "Hello? Who is this?" There is a giggle from the other end of the line and then the call is disconnected. > You check the caller ID. The number is unknown. > You dial your wife’s number. You dial your wife's number but the call goes straight to voicemail. > You feel the buzz of an incoming text. You flip your phone open to check the text message. The message reads "You have been a very naughty boy. I am going to leave you at the rest stop and an Amazon can make you her little baby." > You type back “who is this?”. You quickly type back a message. "Who is this? Where am I? What is going on?" The text comes back immediately. "I think you know what is going on. You should not have been such a bad husband. It is time to leave you here to fend for yourself." > You type back “Jane this isn’t funny. I could be in real danger here.”. "This is not Jane. I think you know that. You really should have been a better husband. If you had been, she would not have brought you to the rest stop to be a gift to the first Amazon who finds you." > You type back “ who is this?”. "I am not going to tell you that. I want you to enjoy the suspense." > You type you are not going to get away with this. "I already have gotten away with it. You are dressed as a baby and waiting for an Amazon to find you." > You swallow hard knowing the person on the other end of the phone is probably right. You swallow hard, realizing the person on the other end of the line is correct. > You type you are going to get out of this and when you do you are coming for you. You quickly type back a threat. "If you do not tell me who this is, I am going to get out of this and when I do, I am going to find you." The response is quick. "That is what I am hoping. I want to see you dressed like a sissy baby begging me to let you out of the nursery. Then I want to put you in diapers and treat you like the sissy baby you are." > You want to throw the phone but resist the urge. You want to throw the phone, but resist the urge. > You look at the phone and realize it is child locked and won’t let you call or text other numbers. The phone is locked. You cannot call or text anyone other than your wife. > You take a deep breath. you need to come up with a plan. You need to come up with a plan. Your main concern right now is avoiding being seen. > You peek out of your current hiding place. You peek out of the bushes and see that the rest area is not very busy. There are a couple of women talking to each other in front of their cars and a couple of women walking towards the bathrooms. > You are clearly in Amazon country as the women are amazons. you look around hoping to maybe find an Adult Little. The women are Amazons. You look around but cannot see any adult little ones. > You look around for any clues as to where you may be. The rest area is well maintained and appears to have been recently remodeled. There are a few picnic tables and some trash cans. The parking lot is full of cars, but most of the drivers appear to be Amazons. > You think about stealing a car. You consider stealing a car but quickly dismiss the idea. You have no idea how to steal a car, and even if you could, the police would likely be on the lookout for a stolen car in a short time. > You check your pockets to see if you have any money or identification or anything like that. You have no money or identification. The only thing you have is the cell phone. > You examine the diaper. The diaper is made from thick white cloth. It is very comfortable. > You keep looking for anyone who might be able to help you. You continue to look around but cannot see anyone who can help you. > You decide you need more information about where you are. You want to try to nonchalantly make your way to the information center. You decide you need more information about where you are, and then you want to try to nonchalantly make your way towards the restrooms. > You keep a sharp eye out and try to not draw attention to yourself. You keep a sharp eye out for any trouble and try to stay out of sight. > You look for a public phone. The rest area has a payphone located near the restrooms. It appears to be a bit rusty, but it should work. > You look at the phone realizing it is sized for Amazons and that you cannot reach the buttons. You are unable to reach the phone due to its height. > You go to look at the large map on the wall to figure out where you are. You walk over to the wall and examine the map. The rest area is located on a major highway between two large cities. > You know that cities will usually have a Littles district where you might be able to get help. The cities are not that far away. If you were able to find a car, you could be there in an hour. > You decide walking along the road would be too dangerous. Your attention is focused on the map. Walking along the road would be too dangerous. > You are relieved that no one seems to be paying attention to you and you go to leave the building. You are glad no one seems to be paying any attention to you. > You head back outside, you are looking for a car being driven by a little or maybe even a tweener. You decide to try to find a car driven by a little. > You try to stay out of sight while you wait. You decide to hide behind a tree. > You’re hear a friendly voice of another little behind you. You are startled and turn around to see a young woman wearing a babydoll dress and a diaper. She is holding a pacifier in her mouth. { The little girl is regressed and sees you as a potential playmate. } What do you want to say to the little girl? > You try to shoo her away. You try to shoo her away, but she does not seem to be listening. > You say "Please I don’t want to play." You say "Please, I don't want to play." "Go and find someone else." "Don't you have friends at school or something?" > You wait for her to respond. She takes the pacifier out of her mouth and says, "But I don't have any friends. All the other little girls in my class are mean to me." "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in playing with a little girl." "I don't have any toys or games, so I can't play with you." "Can't you just go and find someone else to play with?" "Look, I'm not a baby. I'm an adult." > You watch as she looks at you with puzzled look. She looks at you with a puzzled expression. "But you're dressed like a baby. And you're wearing a diaper. And you're sucking on a pacifier." "You're not an adult, you're a Little." > You say "I am not sucking a pacifier. And a Little can be an adult." You are not sucking a pacifier. "Yes, a Little can be an adult. But you don't look like an adult. You look like a baby." > You say "I know which is why it is very important that I get to the Littles district in Springfield." "I know, which is why it is very important that I get to the Littles district in Springfield." "I really need to find a ride there." "You don't happen to know anyone who could give me a ride, do you?" "It's really important." "I don't know anyone, and I don't have a car. > You ask "Figures. You don’t by any chance have any boy clothes you could loan me. Do you?" You ask, "Figures. Do you by any chance have any boy clothes you could loan me?" "Sure," she says. "I have a few things that might fit you. But you'll have to wear a diaper. > You say "Why would I have to wear a diaper. I am potty trained." "Why would I have to wear a diaper, I'm potty trained." "That would be great, thanks." "Well, it's not my fault you're dressed like a baby," she says. > You say "I am not a baby." "I'm not a baby, I'm an adult," you say. "Sure you are," she says. "I'll be right back," she says, and disappears into the bathroom. > You wait patiently. You wait for her to return. "Here you go," she says, holding out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. > You look at the clothes. The shorts are a bit small for you, and the shirt is a little tight, but they're better than nothing. "Thanks," you say, putting the clothes on. > You ask "Can you help me get this diaper off?" You ask, "Can you help me get this diaper off?" "I can't, it's not supposed to come off," she says. > You ask "Oh god yes it is. Maybe you can help me open up the diaper pins?" "Oh, God yes, it is. Maybe you can help me open up the diaper pins," "I can't, it's not supposed to be opened," she says. > You can tell she has been brainwashed to think that diapers shouldn’t be removed. "I think someone brainwashed you into thinking diapers can't be removed," "That's ridiculous," she says. > You struggle to open the diaper pins. You try to open the diaper, but you can't. "I think the pins are stuck," you say. > You change out of the pink jumper into the shorts and T-shirt hoping no one sees you. You quickly change out of the jumper and into the shorts and T-shirt. > You see that your pink cloth diaper peeks out above the waist band of the shorts and the shirt does not come down enough to cover it. The diaper can still be seen peeking out above the waistband of the shorts, and the shirt does not come down enough to fully cover it. "You look really cute," the little girl says. > You say "That’s what I’m afraid of." "That's what I'm afraid of," you say. > You say "But thank you for the help. At least people won’t think I’m a girl." "But thank you for the help," you say. "They're going to think I'm a girl," "No, they're not. You look like a boy. Well, sort of." > You say "I go back to scanning the people coming and going looking for a source of help." "I need to go," you say. "Thanks for the help." "Bye," the little girl says. "See you around," you say, and walk off. > You scan the lot watching for someone who might be able to help. You watch the parking lot carefully, looking for someone who might be able to help you. > You feel pressure growing in your bladder. You feel pressure growing in your bladder. You're not sure if it's just the diaper or if you actually need to go. > You check the phone for any new messages. There is a new message. It reads, "Your wife is going to leave you here at the rest stop and let an Amazon adopt you. That will be the end of your life as a man. > You type back you’ve made it this long. You type back, "I've made it this long. I'm not going to give up." "We'll see about that," the message says. > You type back, who is this. You type back, "Who is this?" "Someone who's going to make sure you end up as a baby," the message says. > You grumble angrily. "I'm not going to end up as a baby," you grumble angrily. > You go back to watching the parking lot. You go back to watching the parking lot. "Oh, no," you think, as you see an Amazon approaching. Part 2: > You try to hide. You try to hide, but it's too late. "What are you doing here, little one?" the Amazon asks. "I'm …. Uhhhh… playing hide and seek,” you say trying to come up with a reasonable lie. "Oh, really," the Amazon says. "Where are the others?" "Uhhh…." "You're lying, aren't you?" the Amazon says. "Ummm, they must be looking for me on the other side of the rest area.” > You smile. "Well, since you're alone, why don't you come with me," the Amazon says. "Uhhh... no, I should really go find my family," you say, not really sure what else to say. "Oh, don't be silly," the Amazon says, grabbing your hand. "You're coming with me." > You say "Wait, no. I don’t want to go with you." "No, I don't want to go with you," you say. "Nonsense," the Amazon says, dragging you along with her. > You tug at her vise like grip but am dragged along with her. "Wait!" you shout, as she drags you along with her. "I need to stay here. I have to find my wife." "Oh, your wife will be fine," the Amazon says. > You say "I mean my mommy. I have to find my mommy." "I mean my mommy. I have to find my mommy," you say, hoping that the Amazon will not recognize your lie. "Your mommy will be fine," the Amazon says. > You say "No she is gonna miss me terribly." "No, she's going to miss me terribly," you say, hoping that the Amazon will show some sign of sympathy. "Your mommy will be fine," the Amazon says. You have a sinking feeling that this Amazon is not going to be sympathetic to your situation. > You say "Please let me go." "Please, let me go," you say, as she drags you towards a van. "Nope," the Amazon says. "You're coming with me." > You say "I fight desperately. I look around and realize that to everyone else I just look like a disobedient child being dragged off by a parent." You struggle to break free, but it's no use. She's far too strong. "Stop that," the Amazon says. "You're just making things worse for yourself." You realize that no one else can see that the Amazon is a kidnapper. > You yell "Please somebody help me!" "Please, someone help me!" you yell. "Oh, just shut up," the Amazon says. "Nobody's going to help you." "Come on, you can have the whole back seat," the Amazon says, opening the back door of the van. > You stare at the rear facing car seat as you feel her pick you off the ground. You see a rear-facing car seat. "No! No! Let me go!" you shout, as the Amazon carries you to the van. "Quiet!" the Amazon says. "If you keep shouting, I'm going to have to gag you." > You struggle and fight for all you are worth. You struggle and fight for all you are worth, but it's no use. She's too strong. "Let me go! Help! Help!" "Shut up," the Amazon says, as she throws you into the back seat of the van. > You try to get back out of the van. You try to get back out of the van, but the door closes before you can. "Let me out!" you shout, pounding on the window. "Oh, quiet," the Amazon says, as she fastens your seatbelt. > You find yourself strapped into the large baby car seat. "You're not going anywhere," the Amazon says, as she buckles your car seat. "There, that should keep you quiet for a while," she says, smiling. > You say "No I will not be quiet let me go." "I will not be quiet, let me go!" you shout, continuing to struggle. "Oh, stop struggling, you're just making things worse for yourself," the Amazon says. > You try to undo the safety harness in the car seat. You try to undo the safety harness, but it's no use, it's too strong. "Just sit there and behave," the Amazon says. "We'll be home soon." "Home?" > You kick your feet and shout at her. You kick your feet and shout at her, "No, I'm not going to sit here and behave. Let me go!" "Oh, stop that," the Amazon says, grabbing your feet. "You're just making things harder on yourself." > You say "You are kidnapping me. I am an Adult." "You're kidnapping me!" you shout. "I'm an adult! Let me go!" "Oh, please," the Amazon says. "As if anyone's going to believe that. Now, be quiet and let me drive." > You say "No. Really. I am not a baby and I don’t need diapers." "I'm not a baby," you say. "And I don't need diapers." "Sure you are," the Amazon says. > You say "I can prove it." "I can prove it," you say. "Fine," the Amazon says. "Then take your diaper off." "What?" "Go ahead," the Amazon says. "Take it off." > You reach into your shorts and try to remove the diaper. You reach into your shorts and pull at the diaper, but it's no use. > You fight with the diaper pins desperately. You fight with the diaper pins, trying to undo them. > You say "It won’t come off." "It won't come off," you say. "Because they're not supposed to," the Amazon says. > You say "Please….. please just let me go." "Please," you say, "just let me go." "Nope," the Amazon says. "Sorry, but you're staying right here." > You say "I’ll do anything. I don’t want to be a baby." "I'll do anything," you say. "I don't want to be a baby." "Oh, please," the Amazon says. "You're already a baby." > You ask "Look, my name is Kenneth, what is yours?" "Look, my name is Kenneth," you say. "I'm not a baby." "And I'm not going to be a baby," you say, continuing to struggle against your restraints. "Oh, just shut up," the Amazon says. "It's not like you have a choice." > You the reality hits you. you are trapped and now you have to conserving your strength and not letting her regress you. You're starting to realize that you're trapped. There's no way out of this. You can't even open the door, much less escape from the van. All you can do is sit here and wait for whatever the Amazon has planned for you. > You try to look out the windows to see where she is taking you. You try to look out the window, but you can't see anything. The van's windows are tinted and you can't see through them. You have no idea where you're going or what the Amazon has planned for you. > You resist the urge to cry. You resist the urge to cry, but it's difficult. > You sit in the car seat quietly trying to think up an escape plan. The phone in your pocket buzzes. The car seat is uncomfortable and you can't seem to get comfortable. > You squirm. You squirm, trying to get into a more comfortable position, but it's no use. Your body feels strange and wrong in the car seat and you can't seem to get comfortable. "Stop squirming," the Amazon says. > You say "This seat is terrible. I don’t fit in it well at all." "This seat is terrible," you say. "I don't fit in it well at all." "It's probably the only thing that would fit you," the Amazon says. "What?" "Oh, never mind." "Where are you taking me?" you ask. "Somewhere nice and quiet," the Amazon says. "Somewhere you won't be able to cause any trouble." > You worry that maybe she is taking you to an orphanage where they prepare Littles for Adoption. you know she would probably be paid a hefty finders fee for handing you over. "You can't just take me somewhere without my permission," you say. "Yes, I can," the Amazon says. > You or maybe she plans to adopt you herself. Or perhaps has a family lined up already. Or it could be an etiquette school for training Littles to be babies. Your mind races with possibilities. "No, you can't," you say. "Yes, I can," the Amazon says. "And I am." "Just be quiet and enjoy the ride." > You cross your arms and pout. You cross your arms and pout, not liking being ignored. "Hey, don't ignore me," you say. "I'm not a baby, you can't just treat me like this." "Sure you are," the Amazon says. "I can treat you however I want." "Now, be quiet and let me drive." > You ask "Are we almost there yet?" "Are we almost there yet?" "No." "How long is this trip going to take?" "Long enough for you to stop asking questions." "You can't just keep me here," you say. "You can't stop me." > You say "I start to hear soft nursery music coming from a set of speakers built into the car seat." You start to hear soft nursery music coming from a set of speakers built into the car seat. "What is that?" you ask. "Just something to help you relax," the Amazon says. > You say "I don’t want to relax." "I don't want to relax," you say. "Too bad," the Amazon says. > You try to ignore the music. You try to ignore the music, but it's difficult. It seems to seep into your brain, filling your mind with a strange sense of calm. "There, isn't that better?" > You say "No……" "No," you say. "Well, it'll have to do," the Amazon says. "We can't have you fighting the entire time." > You feel your eye lids drooping. You feel your eyelids starting to droop, and your body relaxing against your will. "There, isn't that better?" > You struggle weakly in the car seat. You struggle weakly against the car seat, but it's no use. > You feel yourself nodding off and struggle to stay awake. You try to stay awake, but the music and the gentle rocking of the car are too much. You find yourself drifting off to sleep. > You fall into a deep sleep as the car drives off to places unknown. You fall into a deep sleep, not knowing where you're going or what will happen to you when you wake up. > You are awoken with a jolt. You're awoken with a jolt. "We're here," the Amazon says. "Huh?" you mumble, still half asleep. > You try to figure out how long you was asleep. You try to figure out how long you were asleep, but you're not sure. "Come on," the Amazon says, undoing your car seat. "Wake up, sleepy head." > You say "Wait. I don’t want to go with you…." "Wait," you say. "I don't want to go with you." "Too bad," the Amazon says. > You feel her pick you up and lift you out of the van. You feel her pick you up and carry you. > You look around to try and figure out where we are and what time of day it is. You look around, trying to figure out where we are and what time of day it is. It's difficult to see in the darkness, but it looks like we're in some sort of building. > You squirm in her arms. You squirm, trying to break free, but it's no use. She's too strong. "Let me go!" "Stop squirming," the Amazon says. "Let's just get you inside and get you settled." > You watch as we approach a reception desk. "Hello," the Amazon says. "I've brought a new baby." "Of course," the receptionist says, smiling. "Just fill out these forms and we'll get her settled." > You your eyes go wide. Did they just say “her?”. You look down at yourself and notice that you're wearing a dress. "Did you just say 'her?'" "Yes," the receptionist says. "All of our new babies are girls." > You shout "Please. This is all a mistake, I’m not a baby. She has kidnapped me!" "No, you're a little girl," the Amazon says. "And I'll make sure that you get taken care of." > You yell "No! You have to let me go!" You yell, "No! You have to let me go!" The receptionist asks the other woman if she needs a pacifier. "Not yet," the Amazon says. "But, thank you for asking." > You say "I will not be pacified." "I will not be pacified," you say. > You say "I am dropped into a play pen in the reception area so the Amazon can fill out the forms." "Oh, please," the Amazon says. "If you were a little girl, would you refuse a pacifier?" You are dropped into a playpen in the reception area while the Amazon fills out the forms. > You immediately try to climb out. You immediately try to climb out, but the sides are too high. "Now, now," the Amazon says. "You need to stay in there." > You ask "How much? How much do you get paid for this?" "How much?" you ask. "How much do you get paid for this?" The receptionist gives a knowing smile. "That's confidential," she says. "But let's just say it's more than enough to make up for the hassle of dealing with bratty Littles like you." > You say "I watch the receptionist come over and kneel down to my level." You watch as the receptionist comes over and kneels down to your level. "And what's your name, little girl?" she asks. "Kenneth," you say. "My name's not little girl, it's Kenneth." "No, it's not," the Amazon says. > You ask "Huh?" "Huh?" "Oh, don't worry about it," the receptionist says. "We can just call you whatever we want." > You say "My name is Kenneth." "My name is Kenneth," you insist. The Amazon replies “Your name is what ever I put down on this form.” "I think 'Cathy' would suit you just fine," the receptionist says, writing down the name. "And I'm sure your parents would agree." "But... but... > You say "I hear a buzz and I realize that the Amazon has my phone." You hear a buzz and look over to see the Amazon holding your phone. "What's this?" she asks. "That's mine," you say. > You say "Give it back." "Give it back," you say. "Sorry, but we can't have you calling your parents and telling them about all this," the Amazon says, putting the phone away. > You say "I grumble in frustration again." You grumble in frustration again, kicking your feet. "Now, now," the Amazon says. "Let's not make a scene." > You shout "I will make a scene!" You shout, "I will make a scene!" The receptionist just shakes her head and smiles. "I'm sure you'll calm down soon enough," she says. > You start throwing toys out of the playpen. You start throwing toys out of the playpen, trying to cause as much chaos as possible. The receptionist watches you, a bemused expression on her face. > You yell "Let me go!" "Let me go!" you yell. "Not a chance," the Amazon says. "Once you're registered here, there's no way they'll let you go." > You can tell the Amazon is almost finished with the forms. You can tell the Amazon is almost finished with the forms and try to think of some way to escape. > You say "Please… don’t leave me here." "Please," you say. "Don't leave me here." "Don't worry," the Amazon says. "You'll be just fine." > You say "I watch as she ha." You watch as the Amazon hands the forms to the receptionist. "Here you go," she says. "Cathy sounds perfect for this one." > You peek over the top of the playpen as the Amazon is given an envelope of cash. You peek over the top of the playpen as the Amazon is handed an envelope of cash. "Pleasure doing business with you," the receptionist says. "And thank you again for bringing in a Little for us." The Amazon nods. "Anytime," she says. > You watch as she leaves. You watch as the Amazon leaves, heading back to the van.

WGlory B Gloria Beatrice Stallings wasn't your normal 35 year old. She was 35 yes but looked younger. She also acted younger. Oh she had a job she worked in the Secretarial Pool of a major corporation in Phoenix Arizona. Most of the guys there thought she was cute and we're always hitting on her. "They were trying, her grandma told her trying to get into her pants." Gloria Beatrice was called Glory Be by her family. For the life of her she didn't know why guys were trying to get into her pants, they wouldn't like what they found there. She lived with her grandmother, who it seems had room for every discarded grandchild that her grandmother's children just didn't seem to want anymore. Glory Be was one of those her parents tired of the fact that she never grasped the concept of toilet training. Glory Be wore diapers so she wouldn't soak her pants. She learned to poop in a toilet but not urinate. Her parents tired of it and shipped Glory Be off to grandma when she was 8. There were other cousins and family members at Grandma's house right now there was her and Gregory her cousin living with grandma. At one time there were 4 others. Greg was a troubled teen he had assaulted a brother and a sister in the home. He was going to be homeless if not for grandma. Right now it was just those two. Greg was arrested he had seen the get rich quick life of dealing drugs. He was making $800 dollars a day easy on Friday and Saturday that could rise to $1200 a day at 15 he loved what he was doing. He had a place he dealt out of, he knew grannie would kill him if she knew what he was doing. He would leave under the guise of going to school every morning but the truth was he hadn't been to school in several weeks. Grandmother never asked where the money came for the clothes he wore and the help with the food and expenses, he told her he had gotten a job as a bag boy at a supermarket. She believed him. One day as he was selling his wares he noticed a whole bunch of people he didn't know in his neighborhood. If he had been smart he would of up and ran like his competitors he was glad that they weren't out selling like him, it was a Tuesday he had already made a Saturday wages and it wasn't even noon yet. He sold to a guy that had asked him about what he had and the cost he made the deal and,.... Bam the next thing he knew he was tackled and cuffed up, the guy was a cop, how could he be so stupid? Grandma got the call. She said "What the hell, and that little son of a....." she censured herself before she cussed more. She called Glory Be who had to leave work early to drive grandma as she doesn't have the best eyesight anymore. Besides she owes grandma a lot. Her cousin had his arraignment, he was charged with Possession less than two pounds, distribution of a controlled substance. His saving grace was that he was being cooperative. He was telling who his supplier was and he had been busted as well. Since he was so cooperative they were charging him as a juvenile as he was still one. They could of easily charged him as an adult. Grandma didn't have a lot of money, they got Greg a public defender. Glory had to change her diaper it had been lunchtime when she had last changed. That was 5 hours ago. No wonder she was soaked. They got home about 9pm it had been a long day. The house seemed empty to Gloria without Greg. He was missed. She was mad and sad. Mad she thought that Greg knew better than to deal drugs. If not she was sure they had taught him about the dangers of them. That was using not selling. Sad he was her cousin after all. He was in a place for her was scary in her mind. She didn't even want to think if he gets sent to a prison for kids. It may not be as scary as adult prison but it isn't a picnic either. Glory Be got her nighttime diapers on they were cloth with plastic panties. She thought these are my prison. I'm locked in these day in and day out! That night Glory had a nightmare that she was sent to prison, everybody knew she was diapered out of need. The worse part was she lived in constant fear that they were going to take her diapers from her. That she would have to wear wet panties all the time. Being embarrassed like that was scarier than the prison itself to her.

So has anyone recently had any experience with the VA doctors, and trying to get a prescription for diapers? I'm not quite there yet but getting close, hard for me to get to a bathroom at times. I'm not interested in taking pills or other treatments. Just curious if others have been through this. I know the VA can be a pain at times. Thoughts on this?