Search the Community

How old were you when you discovered your love of diapers?

I woke up and stretched my legs as far as I could before they were stopped by the white wooden bars of the crib I was laying in. At 5'7" and 34 years old I was quite surprised I could fit in it well enough to sleep and that it could support my weight. In case I needed a reminder why I was in a crib at this age, my wet diaper underneath my footie pajamas covered in adorable alpacas and snapped up and down both of my legs and crotch kept me from forgetting. Oddly enough, I didn't hate it but it really wasn't my thing either. I knew how happy it made my husband seeing me completely dependent on him and he was lucky I loved him so much to agree to this. It wasn't the first time I wore a diaper for him and not even the first time I donned clothes more suited for a toddler, however, it was the first time I had slept in a diaper and in a crib, though I could see by the lack of light coming in from behind the curtains that I still quite a bit of sleeping to do tonight. Every time before tonight when we had played 'daddy/baby' I was diapered, bottle fed, and snuggled while sucking a pacifier and watching a movie. When the movie ended, so would the baby routine. My husband would lie me down and remove my diaper, clean my private area with baby wipes and gently slide my adult panties back on me and tell me over and over how much he loved me and how happy it made him that I would humor this side of him. It was nice to see him so happy. This week would be different. We rented a vacation home a few hours from our house that had an adorable toddler room for a girl around two. It was decorated perfectly with pink and very light blue elephants and butterflies with thick white carpeting and a large play mat with babyish unicorns all displaying a letter of the alphabet. A baby monitor was anchored to the wall above the crib ensuring the hippo and giraffe mobile did not block the view of the baby inside. A changing table fully stocked with changing supplies sat opposite the crib next to a white dresser painted with fun patterns of pink and polka-dots. The rocking chair in the corner near the window looked ever so inviting and I was sure was used many times to calm down a cranky or hungry baby. If it weren't for the adult sized but baby themed diapers that my husband placed next to the stack of toddler diapers you would have never guessed it was a room for an adult. I knew I had better get back to sleep but it was hard to get comfortable. The plastic mattress protector under me was loud and trying to lay on my side was uncomfortable as my diaper was very swollen between my thighs making the position awkward. Laying on my stomach felt better and if I could have fully stretched my legs I would have felt comfortable but that wasn't an option. As I stirred and repositioned myself trying to find that perfect spot I spotted the pacifier I was put to bed with and placed it in to my mouth. I found it surprising that it was the item I enjoyed most when being babied by my husband. Perhaps the soothing feeling it gave me was instinctual or maybe it was just enough to take my mind off other things, like a warm wet and slightly itchy diaper, but at any rate, it did the trick and I found a comfortable position laying down with my stomach on my upper thighs and my padded bottom slightly in the air. I was nervous to what the morning would bring but very excited to be changed into a fresh diaper.

It’s my job Part 1 The sticky substance rolled down my back and over the ultra-tight, thin white plastic pants I was wearing. The gloopy mass had slowly slid from my head and, with the aid of gravity, eventually collected in a pool by my feet; it was that gradual descent that turned Bob on so much. He would watch fascinated as the yellow goo trickled and pooled, then, like a wave of lava, carry on its way to the final destination. My arse is one of my best features so that the thin, almost transparent, slippery material emphasised my hard-as-nails globes to their best effect. When the flow of the shiny, semi-liquid concoction completely covered my arse, I had to admit that the effect of my reflected image in the main mirror, which completely covered an entire wall, was quite stunning. Once he’d enjoyed the glossy sheen and appreciated that initial visual experience (there was also a lot of touching and stroking involved), armed with yet another bowl of custard, Bob would empty that over my head and watch yet another cavalcade of the sticky dessert drip onto my chest and slowly gather around the front of my bulging plastic shield. The wave of custard would separate around that projecting mound and rivulets of the sticky splurge would split up and trickle down each leg. He’d pour more custard so that the glossy bulge was covered and then position himself to let the occasional drip of the stuff fall into his waiting mouth; his tongue flicking wildly about in eager expectation. All the while, he’d be massaging custard into his erect cock barely hidden behind his own yellow, gloop-stained, diaper. Bob is one of my regulars. Once a month, for the past 9 months, he’d book me to indulge in his sticky fetish and, I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed these sessions. Some clients just want me naked and to get the deed over and done with as soon as possible. Some were guilty about what they were doing; some ashamed of hiring a rent boy to fulfil their needs, while others were on a deadline and just wanted a quick, no-nonsense shag. That is what I do and I am happy to do it while I can. I don’t moralise about what people want or ask me to do. In the main, they are the customer and what they want, and pay for, is what they get. Bob is quite well off. I believe he made loads of money when he was quite young and now, in his early 40s, lives off the proceeds. His penthouse apartment has an ultra-modern kitchen, two bedrooms and a huge living room that opens up onto a balcony, which overlooks the city. He has also converted his third bedroom into a ‘playroom’ and that’s where we get messy once a month. Kid’s TV would be proud of the amount of slimy sticky stuff he’s poured over the both of us in the times we’ve done this together. I am well paid for being the target of his slippery needs and it is great fun. He likes me to appear at his door dressed in suit and tie (and I’ve recently added a briefcase to complete the respectable young businessman look). He greets me dressed the same, it’s as if we are about to go into a high-powered business meeting, but that image only lasts a few moments as it is the removal of clothes, which are always neatly folded outside the play area, and the transformation into ‘sloshboys’(that is, guys who love messy fun), that gets him going. He supplies what he wants me to wear; sometimes I’m naked, other times I’ve had gumboots, a plastic apron, rubber shorts, a divers wet suit, although he mainly likes me in a tight-fitting diaper and plastic pants. Whatever he has a sudden thought about, he gets me to try and I love not knowing what it’s going to be next. He’ll also have all the substances he wants to use stacked around the room; I supply the body, a smile and no attitude. We laugh a lot as plates of food, tubs of mud, buckets of foam, paint, oil, porridge and his favourite… custard - you name it and it is probably in his repertoire of stuff that we launch over one and other. Sometimes he’ll walk up to me, pull at my shorts or underpants or diaper and drip a gallon of some sticky treacle or greasy gloop all over my arse, cock and balls. The stuff gets everywhere but at the end, and especially if the goo covering my arse is still slick and liquidy, he likes to rub himself off against my slippery butt cheeks. His cock has inevitably been hard from the moment I arrive, so when he does cum his copious orgasm is a flood, which is then rubbed into whatever it is he’s covered me in. He seems to derive as much fun from our sloshy antics as he does from cumming and he’s deliriously happy from start to finish. Afterwards we often sit facing each other, dressed in just our messy diapers, or sometimes pretty plastic pants and throw dollops of stuff to get us both even more plastered with it all. We giggle like big kids and perhaps strangely, we hug a lot and it has become something of a release for me, a release I didn’t know I needed, and always makes me feel better about… well, life. He always pays me more than we’ve agreed so, after we both take an innocent shower (the messy and sexy business is kept strictly for the fun room), I leave his place dressed in my suit and with no tell-tale signs of what we’ve just done and always a lot better off than when I arrived. He never asks me to clean up, he never demands anything other than messy fun, and the memory of this monthly event actually keeps me happy until the next time he calls. In fact, that one session with Bob could mean that I don’t have to work for the rest of the week… but I do… you can’t let your clients down can you? *tbc*

🍍 Part 1: “Family Haagen is looking for a full-time babysitter …” Elna Hetland was reading the e-mail from the babysitting agency. Elna was a cheerful young girl at her 19 and she had finished high school two months ago; unfortunately, her applications to the university were rejected. Now she needed a job, and the offer was more than generous. The family had only one 2 years old toddler girl and the wage was double of the usual rate. The job looked better than that of a secretary or a clerk. Elna had babysat in the past and she liked it a lot. “Elna, be careful, please. A double rate sounds suspicious,” Elna’s mother warned her daughter. “Yeah, mommy. I’ll be careful,” Elna nodded. She also realized the generosity; however, she wasn’t aware of any risk. Babysitting a toddler shouldn’t be dangerous though. She decided to find out more about the family as soon as possible. After dinner, Elna sat down to her computer and started searching. According to her findings, the Haagen family was quite wealthy, and they lived in a big villa. There was no personal information there, but Elna could have expected it. She dialed the number stated in the e-mail and a soft female voice answered the call: “Haagen villa,” it was probably a maid. “Elna Hetland speaking. I’ve got an e-mail from the babysitting agency, and I’m interested in the job.” “Wait a moment, miss. I’ll call Mrs. Haagen,” there was a short break until another female voice asked her. “Good evening. Miss Hetland, are you seriously interested in the job?” “Yeah, I am, Mrs. Haagen.” “Well, come tomorrow and we can talk about your job. However, our Amanda is a special child. She has had four babysitters until now and all of them have left. I’ll tell you more in person when you come.” “No problem, Mrs. Haagen. I’m sure I’ll take care of Amanda even if she is … special.” Elna was a bit confused, but she also was curious. After the call she couldn’t get rid of a strange feeling. Nevertheless, the curiosity took over. --------------------------- The next day she arrived at the Damhau street and stopped in front of the big villa. As she pressed the bell knob, a soft female voice sounded in the intercom: “Wait, please,” a minute later the door opened and an older lady in the maid uniform was standing in the hall. “Are you Ms. Hetland?” “Yeah, I am.” “Come in, Mrs. Haagen is expecting you,” she gestured at Elna and ushered her towards a luxurious living room. A middle-aged woman was sitting at the table. “Good morning,” Elna greeted, and the woman stood up and walked towards her. “Welcome to our house, Ms. Hetland. Take place please and we can talk about our job.” “Thanks, madam,” Elna sat down, and Mrs. Haagen took the place opposite her. The maid left and seconds later a small toddler girl ran into the room. “Are you my new babysitter? My name is Amanda,” she stopped in front of Elna and looked at her closely. “Yeah, Amanda. I am your new babysitter, and my name is Elna,” Elna smiled at Amanda and stroked her blonde hair; she noticed Amanda’s eyes and immediately realized that something was wrong. It was a feeling only, but Elna wanted to find out more. Amanda stretched her little arms towards Elna and Elna helped the little girl crawl onto her lap. Amanda hugged Elna and leaned her head on Elna’s shoulder. Elna hugged her back and felt the thick diaper package between her legs. Mrs. Haagen watched the scene for awhile, smiled and walked over to Amanda. “Sweetheart, go to your room and play a little while mommy talks to your new babysitter,” Mrs. Haagen asked her daughter. The little girl nodded, crawled down from Elna’s lap and left the room. Elna was surprised by the toddler’s prompt reaction. “Ms. Hetland …” “Call me Elna, please.” “Elna, I owe you an explanation. Amanda has been diagnosed by Approgressia infantilis. Her growth has stopped, and she stays a toddler forever.” “Oh, I’ve never heard about that disease,” Elna was taken aback. “It is extremely rare, but our little girl suffers from it. Fortunately, it doesn’t hurt, but she can’t grow, and she will need diapers for life. Otherwise, she is a nice and smart girl. You will see.” “Okay, Mrs. Haagen. I don’t think it will be an issue for me. I’m sure I’ll be a good babysitter. However, I don’t understand why four babysitters have left already.” “Well, let’s talk about your job,” Mrs. Haagen apparently didn’t want to speak about the former babysitters, “It is a literally full-time job. You will live in this house and take care of Amanda. Of course, you get your room, food and your wage as stated in the offer. If you still want this job, come tomorrow, and bring your personal possessions with you. We will sign the contract then. Helga can show you your and Amanda’s room before you leave. Helga!” “Thank you, Mrs. Haagen,” Elna stood up and the older lady entered the room. “This way, Ms. Hetland,” Helga ushered Elna upstairs. Amanda’s room was a luxurious well-equipped nursery. Amanda was sitting on the floor and playing with dolls; however, Elna again got a strange feeling while watching the little girl. Helga showed Elna her future room and Elna stopped dead in her tracks. The room was really luxurious and much larger than her own room at home. It was also equipped with a computer and a large TV set. While travelling home, Elna kept thinking of the offer. Something was definitely wrong, but she didn’t have any idea what it was. Mrs. Haagen wouldn’t tell her anything and Amanda was too little. On the other hand, Amanda’s behavior didn’t match a two-year-old toddler. Elna suddenly got curious; was there any mystery there? “Elna, I’m not sure if you should take the job,” Elna’s mother shook her head, “why have four babysitters left if the life there looks comfortable and luxurious, and the child seems to be nice and well educated. Also, the disease is strange. Maybe we should find out about it.” Elna nodded and switched on her computer. She really found the mysterious “Approgressia infantilis” and the description matched the former explanation from Mrs. Haagen. However, the search provided her with one single result. As for the four babysitters, Elna and her mother couldn’t even start searching if they didn’t know their names. “Elna, the job looks good, but I warn you; be extremely careful and don’t trust anybody there,” Elna’s mother was also confused; however, Elna needed a job and the babysitting looked like a good one. Elna packed her personal possessions into a big bag. Besides her clothing, shoes and cosmetics, she also packed her notebook. Although she noticed a computer in her room, she decided to take her own notebook, just to be sure. As she was packed, she went to bed; however, she couldn’t sleep well. Her mind was still occupied by the little girl and her mystery.

My GF thinks that I should definitely NOT go to work diapered at my new job. I recently started a new job as a janitor in a warehouse. I'm constantly active and moving around and taking somewhere around 5,000-6,000 steps per shift. Which with my long legs, is probably several miles. 😅 At my last job, I wore twice a week because it was a fairly inactive position and it helped me to enjoy my days more. I was thinking about trying to do the same for this job, but my GF is adamant about it being a bad idea to wear at a job where I have to walk so much. She's afraid the friction will cause injury to a very-valuable part of my anatomy. 😳😱😅 So I wanted to pose the question here to the experts: are her fears accurate? I wouldn't have the opportunity to change if I had any sorts of issues. Does anyone here work an especially Active job and still wear during their shift?

I met Russell at a hotel, one of my girlfriends had gotten married that day and her reception was there. I had about 2 beers, you know what they say about beer, you only rent it. I needed to pee like a doped racehorse! I went to the toilet, did my thing there. Wished my bladder was bigger, I'm one of those girls that need to pee twice as much as everybody else, I was a bedwetter until I was 15 years old. According to every Urologist my parents drug me to, I have a very small bladder. After relieving myself there were 3 guys that were going to the men's room just across the hall. Now these three were beyond drunk. They saw me and I knew that as drunk as they were l wasn't safe, they had lust on their pickled brains. They trapped me in the alcove, one was attempting to go up my dress and another was feeling my breast through my bra and dress. I was beginning to panic! The guys and I both heard "Hey, hey hey!" A guy who was at least 6 foot 3 inches tall was coming to my aid! "Move along, this doesn't concern you!" The guy that had his hand up my dress slurred! "Well attempted rape does concern me, besides I can tell from this girls face, she isn't into it as much as you three are." "Are you deaf? The guy slurred again, I said leave!" The guy that was my rescuer was sideways and he hit that guy that just moment before had his hand up my dress. He hit him with the pinkie side of his hand, still it had surprised even me at how fast and hard it had connected with the drunk guys face! He was down and his eyes were glazed over he wasn't a threat to me anymore. The other two seeing their leader out like that, they lost their courage and ran like the devil himself was after them. "Are you okay they haven't hurt you have they?" The guy asked? "No, I think they were too drunk to get it up for sex! Thank god you came by, when I first saw them I knew they were up to no good!" She said! "My name is Russell Irons" as he offered me his hand to help me step over the guy who was out cold still. "My name is Nancy Adams. Nice to meet you!" I said. After I was safe the guy on the ground came to he sat and looked up and up at the guy who had hit him he saw me and looked for his guys that were with him, not seeing them he kind of scooted away, still staring at the guy who had bested him. He was still backwards crawling on the ground. When he was far enough away he stood up and was attempting to stare Russell down. Russell said "Boo!" Then he kind of flinched in the guys direction. He turned and ran. My parting shot was "Not so tough now; are ya!" Russell escorted me back to the Reception, I couldn't see the three anymore. I did see Russell, he was in his chef clothes and was slicing the Roast Beef and Turkey and he was the server for that. Damned he was handsome! I slipped him my name and telephone number "Call me please!" I wasn't in the habit of giving guys my phone number! Just Russell!

Summer with Aunt Amanda by Spark Part 1 My mom was deployed to the Middle East the summer after I finished eighth grade. My mom was a single parent, so I went to stay with my Aunt Amanda for the summer. She lived in this remote mountain town, and I didn’t know any kids my age who lived near her house. I was fourteen, which made me too young to get a job, and too old for summer camp. I would spend all summer with my two younger cousins. Scott was seven years old, and Debbie was five. In truth, I liked my aunt, even though she still treated me like I was a little kid. For some reason, she didn’t realize I was a teenager and didn’t need to be supervised all the time. My mom warned me, “Tommy, I know it feels like Aunt Amanda treats you like a kid, but if you can show her that you’re mature, she promised to give you some more freedom and responsibility. But that means that you have to be helpful and respectful. You might need to help with your cousins and, of course, clean up your messes.” The truth was, despite being fourteen and entering high school, I acted more like a kid. My mom still had to remind me to brush my teeth and tell me to take a shower at night. She constantly had to tell me to put away my things, and I never did any chores without being told to. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I just never thought about it unless she asked me. I also would pout and whine, and even tantrum, when I didn’t get my way. I don’t think I was a bad kid, but I was just really immature for my age. I’m not completely sure, but I think my mom hoped time with my aunt would help. My mom and aunt met halfway between their houses. Scott and Debbie were in the car with my aunt, and I noticed a diaper bag in the back of the car. That surprised me because I thought Debbie was already potty trained and figured Scott was too old for diapers, at least during the day. We did our goodbyes, and I took a seat in the passenger side next to my aunt for the three-hour drive to her house. Now, despite my mom’s warnings, I overindulged in chips and soda along the way, and my stomach was already rumbling when we got on our way. I figured it wasn’t an emergency yet. I didn’t want to ask my aunt to stop because she already warned me before we left. She asked, “Tommy, it’s a long drive, do you need to go potty before we leave?” That annoyed me and I replied, “I’m not a baby! I can hold it.” Aunt Amanda noted my sharp tone, “Ok, but remember, you can’t ask me to stop unless you go potty now.” The pressure grew and I tried to fart a little to relieve it, but it wasn’t just a fart. I felt something come out, and it wasn’t just a small leak. It was enough that I could feel it in my underwear, and it wasn’t long before I started to smell it. I was fourteen years old, and I just pooped my pants! I wanted my aunt to see me as a teenager and not just some little kid, but that wouldn’t be possible if she knew that I pooped my pants. I tried to be discrete, but Aunt Amanda noticed the odor. She asked, “Scotty, did you poop?” “No.” Aunt Amanda then asked, "Debbie?” “No, Mommy. I’m a big girl.” “I know you are, honey. It smells like somebody pooped, so we’re going to stop.” We pulled into a rest stop, and everybody got out. My aunt checked Scott and Debbie first. Scott didn’t poop, but he wet his Pull-Up and his mom said, “Scotty, that’s your second accident. That means that you need to go back to diapers. We’re going to take a break from potty training.” I tried to sneak off as she was dealing with Scott, but she saw me. “Where do you think you are going?” “I need to go to the bathroom?” “Not yet; I need to see if it was you.” “WHAT! Don’t treat me like a baby. I didn’t poop my pants!” My aunt shot me a stern look, “Do you need to go to time-out?” I shook my head and meekly said, “No.” “Ok then. I understand that you want me to treat you like a big kid, but I can’t treat you like a big kid unless you act like one. Do big kids throw tantrums?” “No.” “That’s right, and you just threw a tantrum, didn’t you?” “But …” I didn’t get a chance to finish my protest. “Did you just shout at me and cry that you didn’t poop?” I nodded. “If you didn’t, let me check.” “Please! Let me go to the bathroom. I’ll clean it up.” “Was it you?” I blushed and cried, “Only a little bit.” “So, it was you; why didn’t you say so?” “I was embarrassed.” She placed a change pad from the diaper bag in the back of her SUV and said, “Hop up so I can take care of your mess.” “Um. What? Can’t I just go to the bathroom and clean myself?” My aunt shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Tommy. I need to make sure you’re properly cleaned.” I protested, “I can do it myself. I’m not a baby!” I hoped that would make her realize that I didn’t need her to clean my butt, but she just rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Really? Do big kids poop their pants?” “It was an accident!” “Yeah, it was, and I need to make sure it won’t happen again.” “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m not a baby; I’m fourteen years old.” By this point, I was whining and begging. Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “Tommy, if you want me to treat you like a big kid, you have to act like a big kid. So far, I’ve seen no evidence that you can do that.” “What? I am a big kid. You can’t do this.” “Do big kids poop their pants?” I shook my head. “Do big kids pout and whine?” I cried, “I’m not pouting!” By this point, Aunt Amanda was tired of it, “Look! If you’re going to act like a baby, I’m going to treat you like a baby. I can’t potty train you if you’re not cooperating.” “I am potty trained. It was an accident.” She laughed and said, “I certainly hope so. I’d hate to think you did that on purpose. However, at my house, an accident means that you have to wear Pull-ups until you can show me that it won’t happen again.” She took a pacifier and ordered, “Open up.” I asked, “What’s that?” and as I did, she plopped the pacifier in my mouth. “That’s a pacifier. That’s what you get when you whine too much in my house. Keep that in your mouth until I take it out. Now be a good boy and lie down on the mat.” I resigned myself to having my aunt clean my messy bottom but pleaded for more privacy. In a muffled voice, because of the pacifier, I cried, “Can’t we do this in the baffroom?’ “I’m sorry honey, but you’re too old to take into the women’s bathroom. We have to do this out here.” “But you’ll see my --,” I was too embarrassed to say it in front of my aunt. Aunt Amanda grinned, “Honey, I’ve changed lots of little boys. I’ve even changed your diaper a few times.” I closed my eyes and let her lift my legs and clean my bottom, just like I was three years old. She finished wiping my bottom and then praised me, “You’re being such a good boy for me. It is so much easier when you’re not squirming.” She put my legs through a Pull-Up and then told me to lift up, so she could finish putting the Pull-Up on me. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” “I guess so.” I suddenly realized that everybody would see me in just the Pull-Up when I got up to put on my shorts. I asked, “Can you help me with my shorts?” “You want me to help you get dressed?” “I don’t want anybody to see me in just the Pull-Up.” She nodded and then said, “Let’s see what you have in your bag. You can’t wear the ones you were wearing because they need to be cleaned.” After she finished, she helped me up and asked, “Are you going to be a good boy?” I nodded, and she took the pacifier out of my mouth and said, “Ok, that’s good. Keep this in your pocket to remind you what happens when you pout.” She then pointed to the package of Pull-ups and said, “These are just in case. You still need to use the potty. If you can use the potty for three days, I’ll let you wear underwear again. But, if you don’t, you are going to stay in diapers until I can potty train you. Scotty is going back to diapers because he wasn’t using the potty, and the same thing will happen to you.” Part 2 I realized that my aunt was crazy! She was completely nuts, but at fourteen years old, I didn’t have any recourse. I was in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t run away. I couldn’t fight back and change her mind. I could only stay out of her way and not rock the boat. Fortunately, I wasn’t going to keep pooping my pants and I hadn’t wet the bed since I was ten. My aunt promised to let me wear underwear again if I could stay dry for three days, which seemed easy. I expected my mom to flip out when she found out what my aunt did. It was a Monday, and my mom promised to call me on Wednesday after she got settled at her base. I just had to make it until then, and this would all be over. I felt sorry for Scott, especially when I noticed how his mom was treating him. She treated Scott like he was two years old. He had to stay close to an adult all the time and he didn’t have the same privileges that Debbie or I had. In fact, he had to sit in a highchair for dinner. I wasn’t sure if he could help it when he peed, and I wondered if he really did need diapers. I didn’t notice much at first, other than my aunt putting him in a diaper after she put me in the Pull-Up. He and Debbie both sat in car seats. He was kind of a small kid and still fit in a car seat, so that made sense to me. I remembered that I used a car seat when I was his age. He also had a sippy cup in the car, but Aunt Amanda would probably make me use a sippy cup as well. It wasn’t until we got to their house that I noticed anything. First, Aunt Amanda told me, “Tommy, you’re wearing Pull-ups, but I expect you to use the potty like a big kid. Do you want Auntie to help when you go potty?” I was trying to hide my annoyance, but my tone didn’t do much to hide it. “I can do it myself!” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes and remarked, “Ok! Just remember to tell me when you go potty.” “WHY?” “Don’t yell at me. It’s not my fault you pooped your pants. Remember, if you want me to treat you like a big kid, you have to show me that you’re a big kid.” I huffed, “Fine! But why do I need to tell you when I go to the bathroom.” “I need to make sure you’re using the potty like you should.” I gritted my teeth and said, “Fine!” I needed to pee, and I had no intention of wetting the Pull-Up, not that I felt that was likely. I tried not to sound snarky, which is difficult for an annoyed fourteen-year-old. “Can I use your bathroom?” Aunt Amanda smiled, “Of course, honey. Remember, this is your house for the summer. It’s right down the hall.” I did my thing, and when I came out, she asked, “Did you go?” I rolled my eyes, “Yes.” “Did you pee or poop?” “I peed.” In a falsely excited voice that you would use if I was just learning to use the potty, my aunt cried out, “GOOD JOB! I’m so proud of you. Now, did you wash your hands?” In reality, I pulled my pants down low enough to aim (albeit my aim wasn’t all that great), zipped up, and left. I didn’t wash my hands, which was normal for me at the time. I replied in a halting and questioning tone, “Yes?” It sounded more like a question than a response, and I think my aunt knew I was lying. She looked at me and asked again, “Are you sure?” I gave away my deception with my stammer, “Um, uh.” “Why don’t you go wash your hands again? Remember, it’s very important to wash your hands after going pee-pee and poo-poo.” While I hated being talked to like I was a three-year-old, I knew that protests would get me nowhere. What I didn’t expect was that I would receive praise when I complied with my aunt’s absurd request. Aunt Amanda praised, “Thank you for being such a good boy; I’m glad you washed your hands.” I know this sounds strange, but I didn’t get much praise from adults back then. My mom tended to criticize me most of the time. She didn’t like my grades; she got mad when I played video games for long periods, and she was mad when I didn’t put away my things. It felt like anything I did was going to make her mad, and when she wasn’t mad, she ignored me. Even my teachers got upset with me, and when I was praised, it was backhanded praise. It was always something like; “See, look what you can do when you apply yourself.” Suddenly my aunt praised me twice in just a few minutes. Ok, it was for peeing in the toilet and washing my hands, but she sounded genuinely proud of me. My aunt changed Scott’s diaper in the living room, right in front of everybody. It seemed weird to me, but my aunt is crazy. It wouldn’t be unusual if he was only three years old, so my aunt didn’t think it was unusual now. At least, she acted like it was normal. Scott seemed resigned to his fate, although he begged me not to watch. Unfortunately, I couldn’t turn away. After his diaper was changed, Scott returned to his cheery self and asked, “Can Tommy and I go play in the yard?” They had a neat playset that he was excited to show me. My aunt shook her head, “I’m sorry, honey. Mommy has to put stuff away, and you need somebody to watch you.” He immediately protested, “But Debbie is playing outside.” “Debbie is a big girl, and big kids can play outside if they are careful.” “I’m a big kid.” Scott’s voice was more of a whine than a true protest, and I’m sure he knew what his mom would say next. “Do big kids wear diapers?” Scott smirked, “Sometimes?” “No, they don’t. Big kids use the potty. When you use the potty, you get big kid privileges.” I felt bad. A few years ago, Scott was still in diapers, but my aunt let him go outside as long as he stayed with me. I figured the same thing still applied and I said, “I can watch him.” “Sorry, but I don’t think so. You haven’t shown me that you are responsible enough yet.” “WHAT?” Aunt Amanda shot me a disapproving look and remarked, “Maybe if you can show me that you can handle responsibility, I’ll let you watch Scotty. But not yet.” She then looked over to Scott, whose face was disappointed, and said, “I’ll tell you what. Jessica is next door, and maybe she is willing to watch you while I get dinner ready.” Jessica looked close to my age. Based on her looks, I figured she was in middle school. Aunt Amanda asked Jessica, “Can you do me a favor? Scott wants to show his cousin the playset outside, but he’s been put back in diapers and doesn’t have big boy privileges.” Jessica smiled, “More accidents?” “I’m afraid so. He wet himself twice on the ride to pick Tommy up.” Jessica nodded and agreed to take us outside. It felt like she was babysitting me as well, which was strange. Jessica asked, “You look old enough to babysit; how old are you?” Now, I was somewhat embarrassed, but maybe I could impress her if she knew I was in high school. I guessed she was in eighth grade, and she might think it’s cool to date a kid in high school. That’s what boys my age should do, and I hoped that she could be my girlfriend for the summer. This summer might not suck so bad if I had a girlfriend. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get a girlfriend, and I only wanted one because that’s what I thought every boy my age wanted. I confidently gloated, “I’m fourteen. I’m going to high school next year.” Jessica didn’t seem all that impressed with a fourteen-year-old who wasn’t even allowed to watch his younger cousin for a few minutes. “Really? Why didn’t Mrs. Whitmore let you watch Scott?” I shrugged and said, “I don’t know; I think she is mad at me.” “Already? What did you do?” I hoped that sounding like a bad boy would help my cause and responded, “She talked down to me, and I don’t let people do that. I’m not a little kid, so you got to treat me with respect.” “I see.” She smirked with a kind of mocking tone, and replied, “Well, I’m younger than you. I’m only thirteen, and I’m going into eighth grade.” She then noticed the elastic band of my Pull-Up peeking above my shorts. “Is that a Pull-Up?” My eyes grew big, and I tried to hide it, but I am terrible at lying. Everybody knows when I’m lying. “NO! Do you think I’m wearing Pull-ups?” “Whatever, dude. It looks like you are wearing Pull-ups.” “Well, I’m not.” “If you say so. Just remember, if you are, you still have to use the bathroom. Your aunt is really strict about that.” I shook my head and turned my attention to Scott. They did have a cool playset. It had a jungle gym, a tire swing, and a teeter-totter. If I was still a little kid, I would probably think it was the coolest thing, but I wasn’t supposed to be impressed with stuff like that at fourteen. Scott whined when his mom pulled out the highchair. “Please, Mommy. I don’t want to sit in the highchair.” Aunt Amanda put a pacifier in Scott’s mouth and said, “That’s enough whining out of you. If you want to be a big kid, you have to use the potty. If you keep whining, you are going to sit in your playpen until everybody finishes dinner.” While I did feel sorry for Scott, I knew it was a bad idea to argue with my aunt. I ate in silence, hoping to avoid making her mad. Fortunately, Aunt Amanda left me on my own, but she did have to remind me to clear my plate when I was done. I guess my mom was right; I wasn’t very responsible. We finished dinner, and Aunt Amanda announced, “Ok, kids, it is time to get ready for bed. Tommy, go take a shower and then put on your PJs.” “What? It’s only seven o’clock.” “Yes. It’s almost bedtime. Go shower and put on your pajamas.” Her tone was getting more and more insistent. “I don’t wear pajamas. I don’t have any.” Aunt Amanda looked disgusted. “You don’t. That’s not going to work. It’s too late tonight, but tomorrow we need to buy you some pajamas. I guess you can wear one of Uncle Ron’s tee shirts tonight.” She waved her hands and warned, “Now take off your clothes, and go take a shower. Don’t make me ask you again!” I knew it was a bad idea to test Aunt Amanda any further, so I stripped down to let her inspect my Pull-Up. She praised, “It’s still dry; that’s good. Hopefully, you’ll stay dry for three more days, and you can get your big kid underwear back. Now it’s time for you to take a shower.” “But it’s early,” I complained. “No, it’s not. It’s almost bedtime. Maybe I’ll have to give you and Scott a bath together.” “I don’t take baths.” “Then go take a shower.” Once again, my attempt to establish independence failed miserably. Scott was getting his diaper changed on the floor when I came out. I didn’t have any clothes with me, so I wrapped a towel around my body and asked, “Where is my underwear?” Aunt Amanda pointed to a tee shirt and said, “I’ve got a shirt for you to wear, but I need to put a diaper on you first.” “What? I don’t need diapers.” She asked, “Are you sure about that? You pooped your pants today.” “I don’t wet the bed anymore, I promise. You can even ask my mom.” My case wasn’t helped by the fact that Aunt Amanda knew I wet the bed until I was ten years old. Aunt Amanda was unswayed and simply replied, “I’m sorry, but no. If you need Pull-ups during the day, you have to sleep in a diaper. That’s our rule. That way, you don’t have to worry about staying dry at night until we know you are potty trained during the day.” She was crazy, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I remarked, “I’m going to tell my mom.” Aunt Amanda was unimpressed and scoffed, “You are? Are you going to tell her you pooped your pants? Your mommy told you to follow our rules, right?” I nodded. “And in our house, big boys don’t poop their pants, do they?” I nodded. “Until I know that you can use the potty like a big boy, you need to wear a diaper at night. Now lie down, so I can get you ready for bed.” She held a pacifier in her hand and ordered, “That’s enough pouting. Now, open up.” I obliged and allowed my aunt to plop the pacifier in my mouth, and reluctantly laid down on the mat. I was trying to hold back cries and sobbed, “Why are you punishing me? It was an accident; I didn’t do it on purpose.” Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “Honey, I’m not punishing you for pooping your pants.” “You aren’t? It feels like it.” “Well, I’m not. Do you think wearing glasses is punishment?” “No.” “Well, it’s the same with diapers. I don’t want you to pee in your sleep, and the diaper protects it.” “But I don’t pee in my sleep,” I cried. “And if you can show me that’s true, you won’t need diapers anymore. Ok, it’s getting late. I’m going to read you guys a story, and then it’s off to bed.” My uncle’s shirt fit me more like a dress than a shirt. It dropped down to my knees, which made it look like I was wearing a nightgown. Aunt Amanda asked, “How does that feel, sweetie?” “I don’t like it. It feels like I’m wearing a nightgown.” “I agree, but it’s all we have tonight. We’ll get some pajamas for you tomorrow.” We snuggled up next to my aunt, and she told us a story of a boy in a magic land, which was kind of like Jack and The Beanstalk, but her original version. That’s what my dad used to do before he died, and I missed hearing his wonderful stories. After the story, my aunt took us to our rooms. Debbie’s room was a little girl’s room with a lot of pink, and there was a princess bed in the corner. Then we walked into a room that looked like a nursery with two cribs. Aunt Amanda said, “Tommy, you’ll sleep here with Scott.” I cried, “That’s a crib!” She calmly remarked, “Yeah, fortunately, Debbie has a big kid bed, so you can use her old crib.” I cried, “I can’t sleep in a crib. I’m not a baby.” I wanted to avoid the pacifier and stay calm, but it made no sense. I’m fourteen years old; it’s still daylight and I’m being sent to bed; I’m wearing a diaper, and now she is making me sleep in a crib! Aunt Amanda countered, “Little kids sleep in a crib.” “But I’m not a little kid, I’m a teenager.” “Big kids don’t wear diapers.” “But I don’t need a diaper.” “Did you poop your pants?” It was a vicious cycle. When I reminded her that I wasn’t a baby, she told me that big kids don’t wear diapers. I whined that I didn’t need the diaper, but she reminded me that I pooped my pants. I needed the diaper because I pooped my pants, and I needed to sleep in a crib because I was wearing a diaper. I tried more tactics to delay my bedtime. I said, “I’m not tired; it’s too early to go to bed.” Aunt Amanda countered, “You’re pouting, and you’re cranky, so I can tell you are tired. It’s time for bed.” “I’m thirsty.” She pointed to a baby bottle. “There is a bottle for you to drink.” She then warned, “Scott already knows this, but I want to make sure you know. Stay in your crib until I get you.” I suddenly found a flaw in her plan. I can’t pee in the toilet if I’m stuck in a crib. She had to lower the rails. “What happens if I wake up and need to pee? If I use the diaper, you’re going to think that I peed in my sleep.” She paused a second and then said, “Scotty sleeps through the night, so usually that’s not a problem. But there is a baby monitor on, and I can hear when you cry. Just remember, if I take you to the potty, you better pee.” In reality, at that age, I rarely woke up in the middle of the night. I usually slept until the morning, and peed after I woke up. I got in the crib, and I have to admit it felt nice when Aunt Amanda tucked me in. She calmly said, “Good Nite.” It was strange; I hated all the baby treatment, but the attention felt good. I never got that attention at home. Part 3 After his mom left, Scott asked “Do you wet the bed at home?” I replied, “No, I don’t pee at night.” I could have left it at that, but I felt an odd sense of companionship with Scott. I shared, “But I used to.” There was a sense of relief in Scott’s voice. He knew he wasn’t alone in his plight. “Really! How long did you wet the bed?” “I wet the bed until I was ten.” “Oh, did your mommy make you wear diapers as well?” I answered, “No. I used to just wet the bed, and then my mom would get mad.” Scott replied, “Mommy makes me wear diapers, but she doesn’t get mad if I’m wet. Debbie used to wet the bed too, but she stopped. Mommy told me that I’ll get a big kid bed if I can stay dry three times in a row.” I asked, “Do you wear diapers during the day all the time?” Scott said, “No, only when I have too many accidents. When I have accidents, I have to stay in diapers until Mommy can potty train me. Sometimes I even get to wear real underwear like other big kids, but then I pee my pants and have to wear Pull-Ups.” “How long will you have to wear diapers now?” “I don’t know. A few days. I can’t use the potty until Mommy lets me.” Aunt Amanda chimed in on the monitor with an annoyed tone. “It’s bedtime. No more talking!” My aunt is crazy! Scott is going to be treated like a baby until he stops wetting his pants, and it might be three more years until she lets him sleep in a real bed. That’s what would have happened to me. If my mom acted like Aunt Amanda, I would have slept in a crib until I was ten, and I used to wet my pans as well. I might have had to wear diapers during the day! At least I knew this wouldn’t last forever. I hoped my mom would make Aunt Amanda stop and everything would be back to normal. I thought about making my aunt wake up in the middle of the night to take me to the bathroom. I figured it would be a good punishment for doing this to me. However, there weren’t any clocks in the nursery. It was just a night light and curtains. Even if I woke up in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t know what time it was. I ended up falling asleep and slept until my aunt woke me up. “It’s time to wake up. I want to check your diaper.” She put her hand on the diaper and said, “Good, it’s still dry.” In a smug voice, I chimed, “See, I told you. I don’t wet the bed.” Aunt Amanda grinned and said, “We’ve got to make sure you are potty trained during the day before we can worry about nighttime.” She handed me a new Pull-Up and said, “Try to keep these dry, remember to use the potty.” I protested, “I don’t have accidents!” Aunt Amanda replied, “You did yesterday. If you stay dry through Thursday, I’ll give you big kid underwear on Friday.” “WHAT? It’s only supposed to be for three days. That’s the day after tomorrow!” Aunt Amanda shook her head, put the pacifier in my mouth, and warned, “Stop whining. Yesterday doesn’t count because you had an accident.” Scott sat in his highchair for breakfast, and then Aunt Amanda got ready to take us to Reno, which I think was to buy me some pajamas. I guess they had to buy some other stuff as well, but I didn’t pay too much attention. I just followed along. Other than the thick padded underwear that I was wearing, my aunt didn’t treat me much differently than I got from my mom. She even let me go into the men’s bathroom by myself, which shouldn’t have sounded like a big deal, but it was. On the other hand, Scott was pushed in a stroller, and Debbie kept close to her mom the whole time. Debbie might have technically been a big kid, but she was still only five years old and didn’t have much independence. I got into a small tussle with my aunt at the store. I wanted to buy something from the men’s section, but my aunt knew those clothes were too big for me. At the time, I wasn’t quite big enough for men’s clothes, but baggy clothes were more popular. I pointed to the men’s section and whined, “I want to go there.” “No, Tommy. Those are too big. You still need boy’s clothing.” “But I like them big.” “I’m not buying clothes that fit you like a dress.” I stomped and huffed, “It’s not fair.” I had a sour demeanor and didn’t like anything that my aunt showed. She eventually got tired of it and just picked something out herself. To my dismay, most of the pajamas had themes that were for younger kids. Things like Pokémon or Power Rangers. She remembered that I liked airplanes when I was younger, and she found a pair that had airplanes on it. She showed them to me and said, “How about these? You like airplanes, don’t you?” These would have been the pajamas that I would have picked if I was younger, and I really do like airplanes. If I had to get some pajamas, they wouldn’t be so bad. I held back my excitement and answered, “They are kind of babyish.” “Well, I think they look cute. Go try them on.” By the way, fourteen-year-old boys do not like ‘cute’ things. “Do I have to?” “Yes, you do; I want to make sure they fit.” Fortunately, Aunt Amanda didn’t make me parade out of the dressing room, and I got to take them off once she knew they fit. She didn’t make Scott sit in a highchair at the In-n-Out. I guess she didn’t think that was necessary, and it saved Scott a whole lot of embarrassment. Other than making me tell her when I went to the bathroom, she left me alone after we got home. She was concerned that I hadn’t pooped and wanted me to try and poop when we got home. No fourteen-year-old boy wants to discuss bowel movements with his aunt, but she reminded me that I was supposed to tell her when I used the potty. We followed the same routine that night, which included me having to strip down to let my aunt inspect my Pull-Up. She noted that it was dry and praised me for it. “Good job. You get a smiley face. Only two more days until you earn your big kid pants.” I mumbled something under my breath, and she chastised me for being a sourpuss. I was once again back in the nursery, sleeping in a crib and it was still light outside. Part 4 I was dry again in the morning, and I made sure to gloat when Aunt Amanda woke us up. She said, “You’re dry. Do you need to go pee-pee?” I nodded and smugly said, “See, I told you.” My aunt remarked, “First, we need to make sure you stay dry during the day.” I wanted to tell her that I was already potty trained, but I knew it would just put us in a vicious cycle. I did my business in the bathroom and then took a seat next to Scott in his highchair. My aunt looked at me and asked, “Did you pee, or did you poop?” I tried not to sound snarky, but I probably did. “I just peed.” I was a little more excited when I added, “And I washed my hands, too.” Aunt Amanda smiled and said, “Good job, and you did it without being reminded.” I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely proud of me, or just being snide. It didn’t matter at the time; I was too excited about the phone call from my mom later that morning. All I needed to do was let my mom know what my aunt was doing. There was no way my mom would let Aunt Amanda keep treating me like a baby. My mom was always telling me that it was time to grow up, but that wouldn’t be possible if I was literally treated like a baby. The call was just before lunch, which was nighttime at my mom’s base. She wasn’t allowed to tell me where she was, but it looked like just another Army base. I have to admit, it was kind of cool seeing her. It had only been two days, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, I missed her. However, I had business to conduct. I had to let her know what my aunt did. The first thing I said was, “Mom, can I go somewhere else for the summer?” My mom shook her head. “I’m afraid not, honey. Aunt Amanda is the only person who can watch you this summer.” “But Aunt Amanda is crazy!” “Why do you say that?” “Mom! She is making me wear Pull-ups, like the kind that little kids wear.” I figured that would get her attention, but Mom didn’t seem surprised. “Aunt Amanda told me that you pooped your pants in the car on Monday.” I tried to think of an excuse, “Yeah, but.” “She wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” “Mom, I’m fourteen. It won’t happen again.” “It’s only been two days; how do you know it won’t happen again?” I cried, “It was an accident.” Mom countered, “Isn’t that what the Pull-ups are for?” I smirked, “If I was three.” Mom was not impressed and said, “You pooped your pants, and you’re fourteen. What does that say about you?” It wasn’t going how I expected. “Mom! She is making me sleep in a crib, and I have to go to bed at eight o’clock. It’s not even dark yet!” I could have told her about the diapers, but I didn’t want her to know about that. My mom was undeterred, “Tommy, I told you before you left that you’re going to have to follow Aunt Amanda’s rules.” “But.” My mom interrupted me, “I know that I did things differently when you were little but let me ask you this. Are you going to poop your pants again?” I immediately shouted, “No!” “Are you going to wet the bed?” “NO!” “Good, then it’s working. You know that Scott still has problems making it to the potty, just like you did.” My mom liked to remind me about my potty issues when I was little. “Scott has to wear Pull-ups when he doesn’t make it to the bathroom, and she has to treat you the same way. It’s only fair, right?” I guess I was supposed to nod in agreement, but I just rolled my eyes. Mom continued, “Look, I don’t expect you to have any issues. It’s just three days, and then everything will be back to normal. You’ll get your own room, and you can stay up as late as you want. She will leave you alone and let you do whatever you want, within reason.” My mom saw the disappointment on my face and scoffed, “Tommy, don’t give me that look. You’re a lot older than Scott, so I expect more from you. Pooping your pants is just not acceptable. At the very least, you should have to follow the same rules.” I shook my head, but Mom ignored it. “Maybe if I made you wear Pull-ups and diapers when you were younger, you wouldn’t have kept wetting your pants.” I sulked in protest, “I’m not a baby!” It was supposed to sound defiant and strong, but it came off more like a whine. My mom rolled her eyes and gave me that disapproving look that only a mom can give. “Tommy Michael Montgomery,” she used all three of my names, and any kid knows that’s never good. “Aunt Amanda told me that you’ve done nothing but pout and sulk. If you don’t get your way, you pout and throw a tantrum. I already told you that if you want Aunt Amanda to treat you like a teenager, you have to act like it. You have to be mature and responsible. You have to help around the house and do your chores without being asked. Don’t whine, don’t pout, and don’t throw tantrums when you don’t get your way. If you keep acting like a baby, you should be treated like one.” That conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, and I fought back the tears when we hung up. I didn’t mean to cry, but I felt hopeless. I was stuck living under my aunt’s absurd rules for the whole summer. Part 5 After my mom failed to come to my rescue, I sulked for the rest of the day, which I guess kind of proved her point. I didn’t get my way and just moped around for the rest of the day without talking to anybody. In my mind, it was safer to stay silent. If I did talk, my aunt would just make me suck on a pacifier to keep me from pouting. I kept to myself, read some books, and looked at my phone. I wanted to go to my room, but my room was the nursery with the crib in it. Fortunately, my aunt left me alone. She asked me to do some minor chores, which I complained about until she said, “Tommy, don’t you want me to treat you like a big kid.” Oddly, I wasn’t treated like a baby during the day. It was nothing like how she treated Scott, who wasn’t allowed to do much of anything. Scott had to stay close to an adult, or Jessica at all times. He had to take a nap after lunch, and there was the highchair and sippy cups. He also didn’t have any chores, short of putting the toys back. I wasn’t even treated like Debbie, who technically was considered a big kid, but she was still kind of little and needed to be watched closely. She still took a nap, but she slept in her own bed. Other than the Pull-ups, my aunt didn’t treat me that much differently than I hope she would have. My aunt didn’t even have a problem letting me explore the property near their house, which was something that my mom didn’t always allow. Things always took a drastic turn after dinner. That’s when I had to take my shower, get diapered for bed, and then put in a crib at a ridiculously early hour. From dinner till morning, I was just a little baby who wore diapers and slept in a crib. Complaining about it didn’t do any good, and I didn’t hate all of it. To be honest, I really enjoyed our story time when we would cuddle up next to my aunt and listen to her wonderful stories. I kind of wondered what it would feel like to pee in the Pull-up. It’s no secret that I wet the bed, and even had accidents during the day when I was younger, but my mom stopped using diapers and Pull-ups after I started school. She said, “You’re a big kid and big kids don’t wear diapers.” I wished I could just go back to diapers and not wake up with pee all over me. Especially because my mom would yell at me, and I was still crying when I got to school. I asked Scott, “What happens if I accidentally pee in my Pull-up?” I had to do that on the sly, because I didn’t want my aunt or Jessica to know what I was thinking, nor did I want anybody to think that I really needed them. Scott answered, “Mommy just helps me change, and then reminds me that big kids use the potty. Mommy puts me back in diapers if I do it again.” I asked, “Does she get mad?” My mom used to get furious when I had an accident. Scott shook his head, “No. Mommy never gets mad. Even when I have to wear diapers. She says that I’m just not ready, and that’s why I still need diapers.” I knew that was true. I never saw Aunt Amanda get upset about changing diapers, nor did she say anything mean. She had a really strict ‘no teasing’ policy in her house, so I didn’t even have to worry about getting teased. I could wet myself one time, and nobody would say anything. However, I didn’t want to give Aunt Amanda the satisfaction. I wanted her to know just how ridiculous it was to put a fourteen-year-old kid in a Pull-up and make him sleep in a crib like a baby. I used the bathroom and didn’t have any accidents. Aunt Amanda inspected my final Pull-up Thursday night after dinner, and upon seeing that it was still dry, put a third smiley face on my chart. “That’s three smiley faces in a row, do you know what that means?” I smugly replied, “It means I don’t have to wear these stupid Pull-ups anymore.” My aunt didn’t like the tone of my reply and shot me a terse look, “Is that what you say Tommy?” I immediately shrank back down and meekly mouthed, “Sorry.” I couldn’t risk giving my aunt ammunition to extend my time in Pull-ups. She nodded, and so I answered more appropriately, “It means that I can wear underwear tomorrow.” Aunt Amanda nodded and announced, “Yes, Tommy has proven that he is ready for big boy pants. No more Pull-ups for Tommy!” My cousins both raised their hands and shouted, “Hooray for Tommy!” She had the nighttime diapers laid out and I asked, “What about those, why do I still need to wear diapers at night?” Aunt Amanda kept telling me that we were only concentrating on my daytime potty training, so I should have realized I would have to wear a diaper for a few more nights. “Now that we’ve taken care of your potty training during the day, it’s time for you to show me you can be dry at night.” I pouted, “That’s not fair! I haven’t been wet all week. Why do I still have to wear diapers?” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes, grabbed a pacifier, and ordered, “Open up.” I started to protest, but she plopped the pacifier in my mouth and said, “We don’t whine in this house. Go stand in the corner and I’ll get you when I finish with Scotty.” I stomped to the corner and sulked as my aunt took care of Scott. I heard her giving Scott loads of attention. I once saw a kid getting treated like a baby by his mom and it was so different than what my aunt was doing. That kid’s mom was mean and making fun of him, while my aunt didn’t even seem mad. Part of me was mad at her. I couldn’t believe my aunt was doing this to me, but another part of me was mad at myself. I knew I wasn’t helping myself by throwing tantrums. Things were so much easier for me when I just let her do her thing. What if she decided I wasn’t a big kid yet, and made me wear diapers all the time? Aunt Amanda didn’t seem mad when she came to the corner. I mouthed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get mad.” My aunt hugged me and said, “I know honey. You’re just over-excited and tired. Let’s get you diapered and ready for bed.” I had tears in my eyes and asked, “Do I still have to wear Pull-ups tomorrow?” She had a confused look and remarked, “Of course not. You earned big boy pants, remember?” “But I threw a tantrum.” “That’s not good, but if you don’t make it a habit, we won’t worry about it.” I asked, “How much longer do I need to wear diapers at night?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Now that we know that you are potty trained during the day, it’s time to see if you can stay dry overnight. If you are dry three nights in a row, you can move to Pull-ups.” “Will I have to sleep in a crib after that?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and reminded me, “Big kids sleep in a bed. You’ll get to sleep in the guest room. That’s where you were going to sleep until you pooped your pants.” “What about my bedtime?” “You’ll be a big kid, so you should get a big kid bedtime. You’re fourteen, so this summer will be a good chance to show that you can manage your own bedtimes. First, show me that you are ready, and I’ll treat you like you’re in high school. Does that sound good?” I had time to think after my aunt finished her story and tucked us in our cribs. I allowed my aunt to put me in a diaper and make me sleep in a baby crib, even though I didn’t wet the bed, and then she made me feel guilty when I complained about it. She wasn’t only crazy; she was evil. I did the math in my head. Three nights would take me to Sunday morning, which was a week after I got here. I wondered if this was all part of an elaborate plot my mom concocted to get me to grow up. Maybe she planned this whole thing! I get treated like a baby for one week just to make me realize I shouldn’t be acting like a child. I thought about punishing my aunt by using the diaper, but based on how she treated Scott, it didn’t seem like much of a punishment. She didn’t seem to think it was a big deal to change his diaper, even when it was poopy. I would just have to wear diapers a while longer. Aunt Amanda would wake us up around seven o’clock, which was much earlier than I wanted to get up. However, my bedtime was so early that I wasn’t groggy in the morning and didn’t get cranky. My aunt praised me when I was still dry the next two mornings. She then removed the diaper, wiped the area, and let me get dressed in the bathroom. She typically waited until Scott had breakfast before changing his diaper, so he ate breakfast from his highchair while staying in his soggy diaper. For me, everything was normal during the day, just like it would be if I never had to wear Pull-ups. Aunt Amanda gave me some chores, which I would eventually do after getting tired of her nagging, and then leave me alone for the rest of the day. I usually kept myself entertained and didn’t bother anybody. Aunt Amanda worked from home and paid Jessica to help keep an eye on Debbie and Scott. My aunt did most of the parenting, but Jessica was there to help. It was very clear that my aunt felt Jessica was more mature than me and far more responsible. My aunt didn’t think I was mature enough to watch Scott or Debbie, even if we were just outside. Jessica didn’t seem all that interested in me. I think she knew about my Pull-ups, and she probably knew the second crib was mine, but she mostly ignored me during the day. At first, I tried to avoid being around my younger cousins, because I felt like another little kid. However, as the week progressed, I didn’t seem to mind it and spent more time around my cousins. Scott liked a lot of the same things I did when I was little, so it was kind of fun playing with him. I started to get these weird thoughts in my head. It is hard to explain, but I was a little envious, especially with all the attention everybody gave to Scott. I still counted how many days I had left in diapers, but I started to accept and even eagerly anticipate the nightly diapering routine. By Saturday night, I offered no resistance when it was time to get ready for bed and compliantly allowed my aunt to change my diaper. It was enough that she commented, “My, you are so calm and being such a good boy. I didn’t even have to tell you to stop wriggling.” She started to say something else and stopped herself. I remember thinking she was going to say, “It is almost like you like it,” but then decided to stop. I was desperately trying to convince myself that I hated it, but I knew that wasn’t true. She finished up, hugged me, and said, “If you’re dry tomorrow, I won’t need to do this again. You won’t need diapers anymore. Isn’t that nice?” I answered with an awkward, “Yeah.” I wanted to sound excited and with a huge sense of relief. My nightmare was finally over, but it was hard to hide the reality. I think I came off sounding disappointed. I tried to regain my composure and asked, “Will I still have to go to bed so early?” Aunt Amanda smiled and answered, “Of course not. You and Scotty have an early bedtime because little kids need more sleep. If you show me that you’re not a little kid, I can treat you like a big kid.” I said, “Thank you,” but part of me was disappointed. I didn’t think my mom cared about me anymore. It felt like Aunt Amanda really did care, especially when she was putting me in diapers and being so nice. I wondered if that would stop when I didn’t need diapers. This was my sixth night wearing a diaper, and I still hadn’t peed in one. I had the Pull-ups for three days and never wet one. I asked Scott how it felt when he wet his diaper, but the question sounded weird, and Scott didn’t know how to answer. This was my chance to see what it felt like to pee in a diaper. I didn’t think Aunt Amanda would get mad. That’s what the diaper is for. It would mean another three nights in the nursery, but that didn’t seem so bad. I felt a slight pressure on my bladder. It wasn’t that strong, but it was enough that I could pee if I wanted. I thought, “Why not just pee in my diaper?” It was harder than I expected, but I eventually started to pee. The warmth spread and I fell back asleep wondering what my aunt would say in the morning. Part 6 It’s a lot harder to start to pee when you think you should only pee in the toilet. I had to think about standing in front of a toilet, and really concentrate, but I managed to pee in the diaper. I rolled over and fell back asleep. I was already awake when Aunt Amanda came into the nursery. I let her discover my wet diaper when she checked. In my mind, it sounded more believable if I didn’t know I was wet. She checked Scott first, and it wasn’t a surprise that he wet his diaper. Scott always woke up with a wet diaper and my aunt just said, “You’re wet again, but that’s why you need diapers. We’ll change it after breakfast.” She came to me and gently tapped, “Are you awake?” I nodded and she replied, “Let’s see how you did last night.” She looked surprised when she felt my diaper. I hadn’t wet my diaper all week, so I’m sure she expected me to be dry. “Uh-oh, it looks like you wet your diaper. I guess it’s a good thing you wore one last night.” I pretended to look disappointed, but in reality, I loved it. Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “It’s ok, honey. Sometimes these things happen. Let’s have some breakfast, and then we will take care of your wet diaper. Do you want to go pee-pee in the potty?” I shook my head, even though I needed to pee. It wasn’t urgent because I peed two more times that night. I asked, “Do I have to wear Pull-ups, or a diaper today?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “No, honey you’ve shown me that you are potty trained during the day, it just doesn’t look like you’re ready for a big boy bed. I think you’ll get there, but you have to sleep in here until you do.” I guess I was supposed to be upset about that, but I meekly accepted my fate. My aunt pulled a second highchair from the closet and brought it to the table. I asked, “Do I have to sit in that?” My aunt answered calmly and matter-of-factly, “Yes, little kids sit in highchairs.” It made no sense, but a part of me was curious about what baby treatment was like. I complained, “I’m not a little kid.” It wasn’t a strong protest; I was genuinely confused. This was the first time she made me sit in a highchair. Aunt Amanda asked, “Is your diaper wet?” I had to admit the truth and nodded. She said, “Ok then, hop up. In my house, little kids who wear diapers have to sit in a highchair.” Debbie saw me sitting in the highchair and asked, “Why is Tommy in a highchair?” “His diaper is wet, and that means he eats breakfast in a highchair.” As if that was completely normal, Debbie responded, “Oh, yeah.” It sounded like this made perfect sense to her and wasn’t anything to be concerned about. She also knew enough to avoid saying anything that could be considered teasing. I know my aunt wanted to humiliate us. We wet our diapers like babies therefore we should be treated like babies. She tied a bib around my neck, cut my pancakes into bite-sized pieces, and handed me a sippy cup full of juice. It was just like she did with Scott, and just like she would if I was two years old. I was embarrassed but oddly enjoyed the spectacle. She changed my diaper after breakfast, and it was more involved than any of the previous diaper changes. When my diaper was dry, my aunt just did a quick wipe and then sent me to the bathroom to get dressed. This time, she took her time and made sure the diaper area was clean and dry. She also took time to clean my butt, just like she did when I pooped my pants. It was more than just a few wipes, so I don’t think I was very clean down there, but my aunt didn’t say anything about it. I think it was about five minutes later when she finally handed me my underwear and said, “Off you go, honey. You’re a big boy now.” I was the same awkward teenager I always was. Based on how she treated me that Sunday morning, I knew I would get the same treatment Scott was getting if I wet myself during the day. I knew her system. I would have to wear Pull-ups if I had an accident, and I would go back to diapers if I had too many accidents in Pull-ups. I knew I would get the full baby treatment, just like Scott. I wasn’t sure how long the baby treatment would last, nor did I know how many times I could wet a Pull-up before getting put in a diaper. It was almost a full week, and Scott was still in diapers all the time. Scott never asked to use the bathroom, and she never took him. She said they were taking a break from potty training, but I didn’t know how long the break would be. What if she makes him do this all summer? What happens if she puts me in a diaper? I’d like to say that the bug was out of my system. I peed in my diaper and knew what it felt like, which is what I wanted. However, I wanted it more, and not less. I thought about wetting my pants that Sunday afternoon. I might have done it, but I was too scared. I wanted to wet my diaper again the next night, but it is hard to pee in a diaper when you are used to using the potty. I slept the whole night and was still dry when my aunt woke us up. She took off the dry diaper, gave me the appropriate kudos, and sent me on my way. I ate breakfast from a normal chair, and my aunt went back to ignoring me most of the time. That was the day that Scott started potty training. I was a single child, so I didn’t know how little kids learned to use the potty. My experience was a bit rough. I remember my mom getting mad at me when I didn’t make it to the potty, but I didn’t understand how kids learned when they needed to go. My aunt seemed to be calmer and a lot nicer than my mom. She didn’t yell and didn’t make him sit on the toilet unless he asked. When she knew he was ready to poo, she asked, “Scotty, do you want to try to use the potty?” He nodded and she praised him when he pooped in the toilet. She then asked me, “Tommy, Scotty wants to use the potty like a big boy. Can you show him how big boys use the potty?” I was confused and answered, “Yeah? what do I have to do?” “It is really easy, just make sure to take Scotty with you when you use the potty. You can model how big boys use the potty.” I was fourteen, and it was weird bringing my seven-year-old cousin with me when I peed in the toilet. I didn’t want to do that, and I am ashamed to admit this, but I wanted Scott to stay in diapers. I think I only did it one time, and that was when my aunt was watching. That first day, my aunt asked Scott if he needed to use the potty and praised him when he went. The second day, which was a Tuesday, she told him, “Scotty, big boys don’t need to be told when it is time to use the potty. If you need to use the potty, ask me and I will take you.” I think Scott asked her a few times, but most of the time, he just used his diaper. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or couldn’t tell when he needed to pee. Either way, my aunt didn’t get mad. She just said, “I guess you are not ready. We’ll take a break and try again later.” I figured my aunt wanted to put Scott in Pull-ups, just like she did with me after I pooped my pants. If he did make it three days without an accident, he could wear underwear. I started to do the math. I wanted to see how long Scott would have to wear diapers, and how long until he could get to full big-boy status. At least, that’s what I told myself. In reality, I wanted to know how long it would take to go back to normal after being put in diapers. It was a whole week until my aunt started to potty train Scott again, and I figured that’s what would happen to me. I knew it would be another three days in Pull-ups, and then three more nights wearing diapers to bed. Obviously, that included sleeping in the crib the whole time and getting treated like a baby while wearing a diaper. That was only two weeks, which didn’t seem that bad. I knew I would have to act fast if I wanted to do this. My aunt just put Scott back in diapers, and it would be another week until she tried to potty train him again. If it happened soon, Scott and I would be babies together. However, there was a chance that Scott would be potty trained and out of diapers, while I still needed them. It sounds weird, but I didn’t want to be the only one treated like a baby. I considered wetting my pants right there, but I had to make it seem real. It would look suspicious if I started to wet my pants for no reason. However, my aunt knew I used to wet the bed, and I just wet the bed again on Sunday. Maybe, if I wet the bed, she would think it came back. It made sense, to me, that if I was already wetting the bed, I could have accidents during the day. That night I set my plan into action. First, I peed in the diaper before I fell asleep. My aunt had to think I was wetting the bed again, and I couldn’t risk another dry diaper. That meant I had to sleep in a wet diaper all night, but I didn’t mind. The second part of my plan came after our highchair ritual. Aunt Amanda was working from the patio as I played with Scott and Debbie. We were running around like little kids, and I felt the urge to pee. I wanted to make sure I could pee when we were outside, so I didn’t go before we started to play. I made sure nobody was watching, closed my eyes, and started to pee in my pants. I felt the warm liquid stream down my legs and looked down at the obvious sign that I wet my pants. This set up a problem I hadn’t considered. My aunt had to find out, but how to I make sure it isn’t obvious that I wet myself on purpose? I asked myself, ‘What would I do if I really did wet my pants?’ When I was little, I hid my accidents to avoid punishment. However, this time I wanted to be caught. I could have easily excused myself and cleaned up in private. Nobody would ever know I peed my pants, but that’s not what I wanted. I decided to let my aunt discover it for herself, which is what happened before. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on Debbie seeing it. She saw the wet spot and said, “Tommy, you peed your pants.” I shook my head and defiantly cried, “No I didn’t. I don’t pee my pants.” “Yes, you did. It’s right there. I need to tell Mommy.” “I’ll take care of it.” “Mommy said to tell her when Scott pees his pants, so it’s the same for you.” She then shouted, “MOMMY! Tommy peed in his pants.” Aunt Amanda looked surprised and said, “He did? Tommy, what happened?” Debbie said, “We were playing, and Tommy went pee-pee.” Aunt Amanda looked at the wet spot and said, “It looks like you had an accident. I’m afraid that you need to go back to Pull-ups. Let’s get you changed.” Part 7 My aunt put a change pad on the living room floor; it was right in front of everybody. That’s what she did at night, so I don’t know why I expected any privacy. I complained, “Do we need to do this here? Can’t I go to the bathroom and clean up by myself?” My aunt looked at me like I was crazy. In her eyes, only a little kid would wet their pants, so I was just a little kid. She shook her head and said, “I have to make sure you are cleaned properly. I don’t want you to get a rash. Now, stop stalling and lie down.” I guess this was kind of what I wanted, but it scared me anyway. I was also putting on a bit of an act. I was afraid that she would suspect something if I didn’t complain. I grumbled in a whiney voice, “I don’t want to.” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes, put a pacifier in front of my mouth, and said, “Tough, now lie down.” To be honest, I was beginning to like the pacifier. It calmed me down and helped me relax. She put the pacifier in my mouth, and I calmly laid back down on the floor. She praised me, “Good boy.” She finished wiping, helped me into the clean Pull-up, and then warned, “This is a Pull-up, not a diaper. You still need to use the potty like a big boy. If you can use the potty, you can have your big boy pants back. If not, you’re going to have to go back to diapers.” I muffled through the pacifier, “How long?” “Just like last time. Three days. You can get your big boy pants back on Saturday.” She condescendingly patted my Pull-up and said, “Go to the nursery and get dressed, then you can play with Scott and Debbie.” Going back to Pull-ups was the first part of my plan. I knew I would need more accidents to be put in diapers, but I didn’t know how many. Scott told me that he sometimes stays in Pull-ups after an accident but usually goes back to diapers if he has more than one. I figured that one accident wouldn’t be enough, and I would need to have at least two accidents in my Pull-ups. I didn’t want to make my aunt suspicious, so I didn’t have any more accidents that day. That night my aunt praised me for keeping my Pull-ups dry, and then got me ready for bed. I made sure to wet my diaper again that night. In my mind, I had to start wetting the bed to make my plan believable. It was getting easier to wet my diaper. I no longer had to visualize standing in front of a toilet. I just started to pee when I wanted to go. My aunt noted the wet diaper in the morning but didn’t seem all that concerned about my sudden bedwetting. She acted like everything was normal. I thought my plan was going well. My aunt was acting like these were real accidents, and that I might need to go back to diapers. I figured it would be fun to act like a baby for a few weeks, and I didn’t have to worry about other kids finding out. Nobody at my school would ever know. However, teenagers don’t always think about all of the factors before acting. I forgot about my mom. My mom wasn’t around, and I didn’t think she would know anything about it. It didn’t dawn on me that my aunt told my mom all about it. That was stupid! My aunt told her that I pooped my pants, so why didn’t I think my aunt would tell her that I wet my pants and started wetting the bed. Mom called me on Wednesday morning, which was the day after I peed my pants. I also wet the bed three times. A week earlier, I complained about having to sleep in a crib after pooping my pants, and now I was wetting the bed again, and I already wet my pants once. I hadn’t wet my pants since I was in 2nd grade. She asked, “Tommy, what’s going on? Do you know why you’re wetting yourself?” My first instinct was to deny it. “I’m not peeing myself.” My mom tersely replied, “Tommy, stop it! Aunt Amanda told me that you wet your diaper twice. She also told me that you peed your pants yesterday. Why is that happening?” I tried to blame my aunt. “It’s not my fault. Aunt Amanda is making me sleep in a crib, and I can’t get out when I need to pee.” Mom shook her head, “I don’t buy that one bit. You were dry for the first five nights. You only had to stay dry one more night to get out of diapers.” I dejectedly answered, “I know.” Mom continued, “What about the accident yesterday?” I stammered, trying to think of an explanation. I went back to what I used to say when I was little. I meekly answered, “I didn’t know I had to go.” Mom sighed, trying to contain her anger. “That means you have to wear Pull-ups again, right?” I was too embarrassed to answer, but I nodded to avoid more wrath. “What about this morning? Did you wet again last night?” My lack of an answer gave it away. Mom replied, “Tommy, you’re much too old to be wetting your pants like a baby. You know that if this continues, Aunt Amanda is going to make you wear diapers during the day.” I shifted my eyes away from the camera and mumbled, “I know.” “Well, is that what you want?” This was the first time Mom implied that I was doing this on purpose. I emphatically denied the charge. “No! She is going to treat me like a baby. I don’t want that. Why would you even let her do that?” I hoped turning the tables might put my mom on the defensive. My mom sighed and said, “Tommy, I can only think of two reasons that a boy your age would suddenly pee himself. You’re either doing it on purpose, or something is wrong.” “It’s not on purpose.” I protested. My mom replied, “Ok, I guess Aunt Amanda will have to take you to the doctor.” The thought of telling a doctor that I was wetting my pants was humiliating. I cried out, almost begging, “Don’t do that. Please. I’ll stop. I’ll stop, I promise.” Mom clearly didn’t believe me. She asked, “Are you telling me that you can stop? That means you’re doing this on purpose.” I was getting frustrated. She was turning everything against me. I cried out, “I’m not doing this on purpose!” “Then you can’t promise to stop.” She paused, while I tried to think of a way out. Mom continued, “It doesn’t matter anyway. You still need to go back to diapers.” “What? Why?” “Because you'll pee your pants if you don’t wear a diaper. That’s why babies wear diapers.” I whimpered, “But, she is going to treat me like a baby.” Mom replied, “Why shouldn’t she? You should be treated like a baby if you aren’t potty trained.” I protested, “I am potty trained! Stop saying that.” Mom snapped back, “You aren’t if you purposely pee your pants.” “I’m not doing it on purpose!” By this point, I was on the verge of massive tears. The kind of meltdown I only had when I was very young. “But that means you need diapers to avoid accidents, and you’re not ready to diaper yourself.” She paused in the middle to give me time to process what she was saying. I was confused, “Diapering yourself?” “That means you change your own diapers, and I don’t think you’re ready to do that.” I indignantly asked, “Why not?” “Tommy, it takes a lot of maturity to take care of your own diapers, and you’re not ready. You have to make sure you clean everything and then get rid of the diaper without making a mess. I don’t trust you to do any part of that. You don’t even pick up after yourself when you take a shower, and I still have to nag you to take a shower.” Mom continued, “If you really are having accidents, you’ll have to learn how to handle it like an adult. I can’t ask Aunt Amanda to teach you something like that, so you’ll have to wait until we get home. Until then, Aunt Amanda is going to take care of it her way.” I was stunned, and said, “But, that’s the whole summer.” Mom scoffed, “It’s probably going to be a lot longer than that. I need to see a lot more maturity from you before I’m willing to teach you. You will need to be potty trained all over again.” Once again, I protested, “I am potty trained.” “Big boys don’t pee their pants. You keep peeing and pooping in your pants, so obviously you aren’t potty trained. I didn’t do it right the first time, so maybe it is time to let Aunt Amanda have a try.” Mom saw the look on my face and asked, “Tommy, did Aunt Amanda put you in a Pull-up, or is she making you wear a diaper?” I meekly replied, “a Pull-up.” “That means she thinks you are ready to use the potty on your own. If you show her that you can be a big boy and use the potty, she won’t treat you like a baby. You can do that, can’t you?” My mom was talking to me like I was a baby. Her voice was high, and she used short phrases. She used euphemisms like potty and pee-pee, just like I was a small child. I regained my composure and said, “Mom, can you stop talking like that? It makes me feel like a baby.” Mom replied, “That’s the point, Tommy. If you don’t want to be treated like a three-year-old, stop acting like a three-year-old.” “I’m not a baby!” Mom rolled her eyes and said, “Prove it. If you want to become a teenager, act like one. Stop peeing your pants, don’t wet the bed, and stop whining when you don’t get your way. If you act like a little kid, you’re going to be treated like a little kid.” Part 8 Even though she didn’t say it, my mom thought I was wetting myself on purpose. Did she really mean it when she said that I wasn’t potty-trained? I was especially mad when she said that I was acting like a little kid, and she wanted my aunt to treat me like I was a baby. I couldn’t believe it when she said that I might stay in diapers a lot longer than just the summer. I wondered why I did this in the first place. I wished I’d never pooped my pants. I didn’t do that on purpose; that was a real accident. Everything would be normal if that didn’t happen. I wouldn’t have to wear Pull-ups and I wouldn’t have to sleep in a diaper. I asked myself, ‘Why did I want to pee in my diaper?’ That wasn’t an accident, nor was it when I peed my pants. I did that because I wanted to stay in diapers, which made no sense. What kid my age wants to wear diapers? Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like a typical teenager. I was a fourteen-year-old boy who was starting high school in a few months, but that’s not what I saw in the mirror. Physically, I didn’t look like a teenager. I wasn’t just small, I was undeveloped. The boys at my school bragged about their giant dicks, while mine was just a tiny bald little thing. Mine looked like it belonged to a little kid. Some of the boys in my class were shaving, but I didn’t even have peach fuzz. The friends I had in elementary school grew up, and I didn’t. I had a good friend named Jaxon; he was the only kid who knew that I wet my bed, and he kept my secret. I’m older than him, but he was always one of the bigger kids. He was always bigger, but by eighth grade, he towered over me. He was big, even for an adult. He wore size 13 shoes, and I wore size 6. We didn’t share many things in common anymore, so we stopped hanging out together. His friends were jerks anyway, so I tried to avoid them. I wanted to be cool, but I didn’t know how. I pretended to like girls, but I wasn’t really interested, at least in that way. The girls didn’t seem all that interested in me either, other than the ones who treated me like a little brother. Some kids thought I was gay, but I didn’t think about boys that way either. I just spent my time pretending that I was a famous athlete, or whatever cool thing I could think of. That’s fine when you’re nine years old, but not at fourteen. At first, I wanted to punish my mom for what she said. I thought about going into full baby mode. If they were going to treat me like a baby, I would become a huge brat. I would cry, throw tantrums, and do all the things that babies do when they get upset. I soon realized that wasn’t going to work, and it was better if I just proved them wrong. I had to prove that I wasn’t just some little kid who needed diapers; I was a teenager who needed independence and respect. However, that’s not who I was. My mom constantly nagged me to do my chores and then complained that I didn’t do them properly when I finally completed them. Aunt Amanda took a different route. At the end of the week, she gave me money for each chore I completed. She had to inspect it to make sure it was done correctly, but I got credit for the chore. I didn’t have to do them unless I wanted the money. It was the same for Debbie, but hers were simpler and she didn’t get as much money. I could have earned $20 for cleaning the garage, while Debbie got $1 for setting the table. At the end of the week, Debbie made three times more money than I did. I tried to be a big kid that day. I knocked a chore off the list; I vacuumed the living room. It took me four times to pass the inspection, but I finally met my aunt’s expectations. At the same time, I watched Scott happily play on the floor. He wasn’t allowed to do any chores and didn’t get an allowance. That was reserved for big kids. My aunt doted over him while changing his wet diaper, which made me jealous. I had a strange dream that night. It was about the last time I wore diapers for an extended period. I was five years old, and we went to Asia for vacation. I remember wearing diapers on the plane. I still wore diapers at night, but I didn’t wear them in the daytime anymore, and that felt weird to me. I remember that these were diapers and not Pull-ups. I had some accidents, so I had to wear diapers for the rest of the trip, which was three weeks. That’s a long time for a five-year-old. I also remember getting lost at the airport and getting put in a stroller. This wasn’t a bad memory. It was pleasant, and I didn’t care that I had to wear diapers or sit in a stroller. I woke up in a wet diaper. Having a real accident put me in a strange place. It’s hard to explain, but I used to feel special after I wet my bed. It was like a part of me was still a baby, and I didn’t want it to go away. I felt the same that morning, but I didn’t get yelled at, and I wasn’t covered in pee. After lunch, I went outside to play while my cousins took their naps. I purposely didn’t use the bathroom, and I drank two glasses of lemonade before heading outside. I was playing in a puddle when I felt the first twinge in my bladder. I told myself to let go and started to pee. I felt the warmth spread in the padding. It felt different than the cloth diapers my aunt used at night. The Pull-up was about to leak, but I kept peeing. I don’t know if my aunt was watching me, or just sensed that I had an accident. She called to me, “Tommy, come over here. I need to check your Pull-up.” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. I was surprised, and given my condition, I was reluctant to let her see. I don’t know why I was reluctant; she was going to find out eventually. The Pull-up was close to leaking and I needed to change. How did I ever think I would get that past my aunt? I cried, “What? Why?” “You haven’t used the potty since lunch, and I need to see if you’re still dry.” I didn’t want to admit the truth. I answered, “I’m dry, and I did go. I just forgot to tell you.” “That doesn’t matter, I need to check your Pull-Up right now!” This was her no-nonsense voice, and I could tell she was out of patience. I huffed, “Ok,” and trundled over to her. I thought she would be angry when she felt my soggy Pull-up, but she wasn’t. “Oh dear, you’re wet. Is that why you didn’t want me to check?” I shot my eyes down and mumbled, “Yes.” My aunt acted like it was just an accident. “I guess you didn’t know, but you’re supposed to tell me when you have an accident sweetie. If you hide an accident again, you’ll go right back to diapers. Is that understood?” I felt guilty and looked like I was going to cry. Aunt Amanda gently hugged me and said, “It’s ok honey. Sometimes kids have accidents when they are learning to use the potty. Let’s get you cleaned up.” It was the same process that she always did, making sure to thoroughly clean and dry everything before handing me another Pull-up. She warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” Part 9? My aunt warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” I asked, “How long?” She looked perplexed, and asked,” How long what?” “How long will I have to stay in diapers?” Aunt Amanda tilted her head with a strange look. She asked, “Honey, is that what you want?” I don’t know what would have happened if I told her the truth. I think she was ready to put me in a diaper right there, but I didn’t want her to think I was a freak. I furiously shook my head, which was more of an act, and said, “No, no, no! I just want to know what happens if I have another accident.” Aunt Amanda was dubious but indulged me. She talked to me like I was a child. “Right now, I don’t know if you are ready to use the potty by yourself. That’s why you are wearing Pull-ups. Big kids use the potty by themselves. If you keep having accidents, I know you’re not ready. That means you need diapers, and you can’t be a big kid if you need diapers. Does that make sense?” It didn’t make any sense, but I nodded anyway. I asked, “But for how long?” “You’ll need to be potty-trained before you can wear big boy pants. That can’t happen until you are ready.” “How will you know if I’m ready?” Aunt Amanda calmly answered, “It depends. I knew that Debbie was ready when she stayed dry for a long time and used the potty when I asked her. Now she doesn’t need help using the potty and does it all by herself. Older kids sometimes take longer. You are older than Debbie, so a day won’t feel as long to you. You might need a longer break before you are ready. It’s also very important for you to cooperate with me. I can’t teach you to use the potty if you don’t listen to me.” I remembered what my mom told me. “My mom said that it might take the whole summer. She said if I can’t help it, I need to learn how to change my own diapers, and she won’t do that until I’m ready.” Aunt Amanda nodded, “That’s true. Some adults, and even big kids, have problems getting to the potty, and they have to manage it by themselves. It is called, ‘incontinence’, but that doesn’t mean they are like little kids.” “It doesn’t?” I sounded very childlike, and innocent. “No honey; They can take care of themselves. It’s hard, and they need to be very responsible. I think that’s what your mommy meant when she told you that you weren’t ready for that.” She continued, “And to be honest, I think your mommy is right. You aren’t responsible enough. I know that you sometimes use the potty by yourself, so I know you can do it. However, big kids don’t just do that some of the time, they handle the potty by themselves all of the time. That’s what you still need to show me.” I didn’t get the answer I wanted, but I did get some perspective on my aunt’s thought process. It felt like she was seriously considering putting me in a diaper right there, and there was a part of me that wished she had. However, it was a big step. I still had to wear a diaper for six more nights, which would be almost three weeks in diapers. If she makes me wear one during the day, I might be in diapers all summer. I made it through the rest of the day without an accident, but the ever-perceptive Debbie noticed the frowny face on my chart. “Why does Tommy have a frowny face?” Aunt Amanda sighed, “Tommy went pee-pee in his pants today.” “Is he going to be a baby again?” My aunt gave Debbie a disapproving look. That was close to teasing, and teasing is not allowed. “Debbie! We don’t do that in this house.” Debbie deflected her eyes and mouthed, “Sorry.” I guess she was talking to me, but it didn’t seem directed at anybody in particular. My aunt replied, “No, Tommy still wants to be a big boy.” It was getting easier for me to pee in the diaper at night. I barely had to think about it before I started to pee. I was oddly proud of myself, but I couldn’t explain why. During the day, I was constantly flooded with doubt and anxiety. I felt out of place in the world. At night, I felt like a three-year-old with no responsibilities. I just needed one more accident, and I could get that feeling during the day as well. It dawned on me that I had to act now. In a few days, my aunt might give Scott another chance with Pull-ups. What if I’m wearing a diaper, and Scott gets to wear Pull-ups? I promised myself to pee in my Pull-up in the morning. Aunt Amanda barely acknowledged the soggy diaper that greeted her in the morning. She just said, “Let’s get you two some breakfast, and then I will get you ready for the day.” She cleaned me up carefully, handed me the Pull-Up, and said, “Try to use the potty today. I don’t want you to have any more accidents.” I replied, “Ok, I’ll try,” knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen. My aunt hugged me, “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help but notice the twinge of doubt in her voice. At this point, I wasn’t turning back. I was going to wet my Pull-up, and it was just a question of when. There was a part of me that wanted to get it over with, but it was like jumping off the diving board; I couldn’t take it back after it happened. I tried to pee in the morning, but I couldn’t. Jessica came over shortly after 10 o’clock, and the four of us went outside to play. I didn’t want to do it in front of Jessica, so I tried to put it out of my mind. Up until then, I thought I kept this a secret. As far as I knew, she didn’t know I was wearing a Pull-up. I suddenly felt the urge and began to pee, without thinking. I realized what I was doing and tried to stop, but I couldn’t stop peeing. I froze and hoped nobody saw what happened. Jessica noticed and asked, “Tommy, what did you do?” I answered, “Nothing. I was just thinking.” Jessica smirked, “I don’t think that’s it. I know that look. I think somebody peed his pants. Come over here, I need to check your Pull-Up.” “Um, I’m not wearing a Pull-Up.” My stammer and red face might have given it away. “Oh, please! Do you honestly think I haven’t noticed the Pull-ups? I can see the tabs above your waistband. Now come over here and let me check if you’ve had an accident.” “No.” Jessica was talking to me just like I was a petulant child and ordered, “No? Come here, I need to check your Pull-up.” She might have only been thirteen, but she knew exactly how to handle an ornery child. I screamed, “No!” And started to run. I didn’t get very far; Jessica caught me from behind and said, “Got you, you little stinker.” She put her hand on my shorts and said, “Tommy, you’re wet. Let’s tell your aunt.” I pulled away and cried, “No, I don’t want to.” She tugged back and said, “Tommy, you’re only making this bad for yourself. Be a good boy, or I’ll put you in time-out.” I shouted back, “You’re not my babysitter! You can’t put me in time-out.” Jessica snidely asked, “Should we ask your aunt about that?” Aunt Amanda walked outside; “What’s all of the commotion? What’s going on?” Debbie was eager to tell her mom what happened, but Jessica spoke first. “Mrs. Whitmore, I’m afraid Tommy had a little accident and needs another Pull-up. I can help him if you are busy.” It sounds stupid, but until then, it never dawned on me that Jessica could end up changing my diaper. She took care of Scott quite a bit, so it would make sense that she would do the same with me. Much to my relief, Aunt Amanda waved her off. “That’s very nice of you, but I can take it from here. Please keep an eye on Scotty and Debbie, while I’ll take care of Tommy.” Part 10 The best way to describe my aunt’s reaction was disappointment. I don’t know if she thought I did it on purpose, but I don’t think it surprised her. It didn’t matter; she had no choice but to go through with her promise. She said, “Tommy, I don’t know what’s going on, but you aren’t using the potty like you should. We have to take a break from potty training. That means you have to wear diapers until you are ready to try again.” I willingly climbed on the changing table and let her take care of the soggy Pull-up. She calmly asked, “Sweetie, do you want your pacifier?” I nodded, and she put it in my mouth. “There you go. Isn’t that nice?” It’s hard to explain the calming effect sucking on a pacifier has on me. I felt like I melted into the table. I thought my aunt would mock me for acting like a baby, but she didn’t. In her mind, I literally was a baby. She placed the diaper underneath my bottom, and said, “Now sweetie, I don’t want you to worry about making it to the potty. If you need to do a poo-poo or a pee-pee, just go ahead and an adult will take care of your diaper. I don’t want you to try to be a big kid and use the potty. We won’t worry about the potty until you are ready.” I guess this was her way of telling me the bathroom was off-limits. Scott wasn’t allowed to use the potty, so I knew I wouldn’t be either. I felt guilty and mumbled, “I’m sorry.” In her calm voice, she said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re not ready to be a big kid, so you need a break.” My aunt used cloth diapers at night, which seemed to fit me easily. During the day, she used the largest-sized Pampers available, but they were meant for a kid half my size. I wasn’t sure if they would fit. After she finished, I commented, “I didn’t think they would fit me.” Aunt Amanda smiled, “They fit, but just barely. I think I’ll have to get some bigger diapers, just in case.” She then dressed me like I was a two-year-old. She didn’t let me do anything for myself. My shirt was pastel yellow with a big red balloon on the front. The shorts were bright red and had an elastic waistband. It was the kind of thing I wore when I was three. After she finished, she said, “Big kids don’t wear diapers, so you can’t have big kid privileges until you are potty trained. Is that understood?” I nodded. She continued. “Little kids are not allowed to open doors, and not allowed to run off. They have to be with an adult at all times. You also have to ask an adult first, and if the adult says no, that means no. If you pout, or whine, you will go to time out.” I asked, “What about Jessica, is she an adult?” Aunt Amanda replied, “She is to you. She is in charge, and you have to do what she says.” “Is Debbie an adult?” “No, she is a big sister. You can ask her for help, but she is not in charge.” Aunt Amanda held my hand as we walked outside. She got Jessica’s attention and said, “Jessica, honey, can you keep an eye on Tommy?” Jessica gave her a thumbs up, and then my aunt put her hands on my shoulders and said, in a loud voice, “Be a good boy for Jessica.” I looked ridiculous in my toddler-style outfit and well-padded rear. I think it was obvious that I was wearing a diaper. I asked Jessica in a trembling voice, “Are you going to tease me?” Jessica condescendingly asked, “Why would I do that?” “Well, you know, what I’m wearing.” My voice was timid and shy. “What are you wearing?” She knew everything, and just wanted me to say it out loud. “You know.” I paused a bit, and then continued, “Don’t make me say it.” “No, I don’t, Tommy. What are you wearing?” Exasperated, I admitted, “I’m wearing a diaper. My Aunt is making me wear diapers.” She mockingly looked surprised, “You are, and why are you wearing diapers, Tommy? What did you do?” I was annoyed and mumbled as quickly as possible, “I wet my pants.” “You did, didn’t you. I guess that means you aren’t potty trained.” I wanted to run off but knew that wasn’t possible. I nodded, and Jessica continued, “I guess that makes you a little kid, doesn’t it?” I didn’t nod back, but she didn’t care. “I don’t tease little kids; that’s just mean. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tease you. Just remember that I’m in charge, and you can’t argue with me. If you do what I tell you, I’ll be nice.” I guess that’s the best I could hope for. Debbie kept asking, “What happened? Why is Tommy wearing diapers?” I wanted to scream at Debbie, but I knew I would get in trouble, so I gave Jessica a pleading look. Fortunately, Jessica quickly admonished Debbie. “Debbie! Don’t be so nosy. That’s none of your business.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t pooped yet, and breakfast was making it’s way to my bowels. I had let my mind go free while Scott and I were playing in the sandbox and forgot about the new rules. I got up to head for the bathroom. Jessica quickly asked, “Tommy, where do you think you’re going? You can’t run off by yourself.” I replied in a firm voice, “I need to go to the bathroom.” Jessica gave me a serious look, “Tommy, you don’t have to worry about that. That’s why you’re wearing a diaper.” I didn’t want to poop in my diaper and didn’t think Jessica would want to deal with that either. I snapped, “It’s not that. I need to take a shit.” I didn’t think swearing was a big deal, especially in front of kids my age. I didn’t usually swear around little kids, but I didn’t think I said anything wrong. Jessica gave me a dirty look and said, “Tommy Michael, you know better than that. Little boys don’t speak that way.” She pointed to the picnic table and in a firm voice said, “Go to the table. Now!” I have no idea how she knew my middle name, but hearing it is never good. I was more shocked than anything else, and asked, “What? Why?” “You heard me. Go!” She marched me to the table, put a pacifier in my mouth, and said, “Sit! You are in time-out.” I tried to plead my case. I spit the pacifier out, and tried to say, “But I need to go to the bathroom.” However, I didn’t get past the first word before she put the pacifier back in my mouth. “Don’t talk until I take that out! Is that understood?” I was too afraid to respond. She continued, “I know what’s going on, and as long as you are good, and don’t argue with me, I’ll be nice. But, if you don’t obey me, and make this difficult, I’ll make sure everybody knows what a big baby you really are. Do you want that?” I vigorously shook my head and tried to talk, but Jessica wouldn’t let me speak. “No talking! Sit here and think about your words. You are in time-out because you used a naughty word.” Debbie didn’t hear me cuss, and being the curious child she was, asked me, “Tommy, why are you in time-out?” Jessica quickly intercepted, “Debbie, Tommy is in time-out. He can’t talk to you right now.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s ok. Tommy can play after he finishes his time-out.” I hadn’t been put in time-out since I was six years old, and now I was put there by a girl younger than me. It’s a lot to unpack. However, I had to admire Jessica’s poise. It gave me a strange sense of security that is hard to explain. Her maturity belied her age. A short time later she came back and asked, “Are you ready to apologize for saying those naughty words?” She took the pacifier out of my mouth after I nodded back. I started, “I’m sorry, but.” The pacifier immediately went back to my mouth. “No buts. Are you going to say naughty words anymore?” I shook my head, and she nodded back. “Good, you can go back to playing after you apologize for real.” I replied, “I’m sorry.” “For what? What are you sorry about?” “I’m sorry I cussed.” Jessica smiled, “You’re forgiven. I think you’ve learned your lesson.” I raised my hand and waved, “Can I say something?” “What is it?” “I still need to poo.” Jessica shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you are taking a break from the potty. That means you have to use your diaper.” She pointed to a corner of the yard and said, “If you want, you can do it there.” I answered, “I can’t do that out here.” Jessica put the pacifier back in my mouth and smirked, “Obviously, that’s not always true, is it?” A few minutes later, Jessica took us into the kitchen for lunch and told my aunt, “He says he needs to poo, but he hasn’t done it yet.” It was humiliating to hear people talk about my bowel movements that way. Aunt Amanda nodded, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll give him some time, but I might have to help him if he hasn’t pooped by dinner.” She turned to me and said, ‘Honey, it’s not good to hold it in.” I sat in my highchair at lunch, right next to Scott. We both had bibs around our necks, and our sandwiches were cut into small pieces. We also had sippy cups, while Debbie got to use a real cup. We took our naps after lunch. I still had to poo, and I was mad, so I decided to go in my diaper. I figured it would be a fitting punishment to make my aunt change my stinky diaper. There weren't any clocks in the nursery, so I had no idea how long I would have to wait until my aunt woke us up. I just had to wait, and deal with the smell. She reacted immediately after opening the nursery door. “I think somebody has a stinky diaper!” She checked Scott first. “Was it you?” She felt the front and then checked the back. “No, not you. You aren’t even wet. You were a big boy, and that makes Mommy very proud.” It was my turn. She felt the front and said, “You went pee-pee. Let’s see about the poo-poo.” She opened it up and in an almost proud voice said, “Yep, you did. And you did a big one. I’m happy that you don’t need any help going poo-poo.” I was confused, and asked, “Aren’t you mad?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Why would I be mad? It’s not healthy to hold your poop. I told you to use your diaper, and you did. That means you are a good boy.” Part 11 My aunt didn’t care what anybody thought. She acted like this was completely normal. She put two strollers in the car when we went to Reno the next day. I realized that the other one was for me and cried, “I can’t ride in that!” Aunt Amanda asked, “Why not?” “I’m too old. People will think it’s weird.” Aunt Amanda scoffed, “You’re wearing a diaper and that makes you a little kid. Little kids need to use a stroller.” “Why? I don’t need a stroller. I’m not going to get tired.” My aunt shook her head, “I’m sorry honey. It’s not safe to let you wander off. The stroller keeps you and Scotty close, and you won’t get lost.” I whined, “I won’t get lost. I promise, I won’t wander away. I promise.” Aunt Amanda replied in a firm voice. “Tommy, go suck on your pacifier and stop whining.” I was smart enough to know I wasn’t going to win. I hadn’t won a single battle with my aunt. I didn’t want anybody to see me, especially somebody from my school. She took the strollers out of the car after we parked, and I begged, “Please, Aunt Amanda. You can’t make me do this. It’s humiliating.” My aunt didn’t want a debate. She demanded, “Tommy, get in the stroller, now!” I knew she wasn’t going to back down, however, I still tried to resist. I wasn’t a baby. I didn’t need diapers, and I definitely didn’t need to ride in a stroller. I had to take a stand, and not let her humiliate me in public. I tried to muscle up my strongest voice, but I was starting to cry. Rather than sounding strong, I pleaded between sobs, “Pleese Au-unt Amanda! Pleese! I’m sorry, I’ll never do this again. I’ll do anything, just don’t make me go out like this.” Aunt Amanda was unimpressed with my theatrics. She put the pacifier back in my mouth and said, “Stop with the dramatics. You’re only making it worse for yourself by making a scene. You have two choices: sit in the stroller like a good boy, or we can go home, and you’ll go straight to the playpen.” I didn’t know what she meant by the playpen, but I saw Scott shaking his head and prompting me to stop. It sounded bad, so I reluctantly sat down in the stroller. I think these were bigger than most strollers, but they looked like any other stroller. They were connected side by side, which allowed Scott and I to talk while we were pushed around town. It felt like everybody was watching us, but most people didn’t seem to pay attention. Scott looked too old to be in a stroller, but not that far off. Somebody might think he was just a big four-year-old, and that’s still young enough to use a stroller. I clearly was too old and too big to use a stroller. Nobody would ever think I was young enough to need a stroller. I saw people stare, which made sense. We both looked way too old for a stroller, and I was sucking on a pacifier. It caused a scene, but my aunt didn’t care. One young kid saw us and asked, “Mommy, why are those big kids in strollers?” The mom knew we heard and was embarrassed. She replied, “I don’t know honey, but it’s not polite to stare.” My aunt and uncle wanted a date night that weekend and needed a babysitter. Jessica was the obvious choice, but my aunt wanted to let her parents know about me. Jessica’s mom wasn’t comfortable with the two of us being together without supervision. When Jessica realized what her mom was thinking, she scoffed at the idea. “Mom! Please. Yuck! He’s wearing a diaper. Nothing like that will happen. You don’t have a problem when I change Scott.” “No, but Scott is younger than you.” Jessica remarked, “Mom, Tommy is the same as Scott. He’s just a little boy who still needs diapers. I don’t think of him that way at all.” Jessica’s mom asked my aunt, “Is she telling the truth? Does Tommy wear diapers? Aunt Amanda answered, “He does. Tommy had a setback with his potty training, so I put him back in diapers. Jessica is right, there really is no difference between Tommy and Scott. They are both little boys, and Jessica handles them like a pro. She won’t let him get away with much, and that boy was a nightmare for me until I put him back in diapers.” Jessica pleaded, “Mom, please let me do this. Mrs. Whitmore is going to pay me $20 an hour.” Jessica’s mom turned back to my aunt, “$20 an hour?” My aunt said, “Well, it’s three kids. Jessica may be young, but she is a great babysitter, and the kids adore her.” Jessica noted, “Tommy is just a little kid, or at least he acts like one.” Jessica’s mom nodded and then asked my aunt, “Are you saying Tommy hasn’t given you any problems since you put him back in diapers?” Aunt Amanda nodded, “It’s true. Last week, he was an absolute nightmare. He had an awful attitude and wouldn’t do anything around the house. He sulked and pouted whenever I asked him to do anything. I know he’s not a bad kid and he’s had a rough go at it these last few years. Since Thursday, he’s been a different kid. Sure, there’s been a few tantrums, but they’re short-lived and easily rectified. He calms right down when I give him a pacifier. He is more compliant and hasn’t whined nearly as much. I can’t trust him to do any chores, but that was never worth the hassle. I know it’s odd, but he seems happier.” Jessica’s mom looked intrigued, “You don’t say. I might have to try that with Jason. That boy has been a real pill since school let out.” She looked at Jessica and said, “Don’t say anything to your brother.” Jessica was strict, but nice. I guess that makes her a good babysitter. We had to follow all of the rules. She made me eat all of my vegetables, but then gave us some cake for dessert. My aunt doesn’t usually give us any dessert, so that was a treat. The four of us played a board game after dinner, but Jessica made sure we were in bed by eight o’clock. Scott and I both had baths before she got there. However, she had to change my diaper before bedtime. She didn’t make a big deal about it and acted like it was normal. Fortunately, I didn’t give Jessica any problems. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to put me in time-out, and my aunt warned me before she left. “If you give Jessica any issues, I’m putting you in the playpen tomorrow.” I asked Scott, “What does she mean by the playpen?” Scott answered, “You don’t want that. If I’m naughty, Mommy makes me sit in a playpen all day, and I’m not allowed to have any toys. It’s like time-out, except it’s the whole day.” That warning kept me in check. After a few days, I realized my life is easier if I don’t complain and just go along with my aunt. Within a week, I understood the routine and knew what was expected of me, which was basically nothing. I had no responsibilities and no real decisions to make. I was praised for following her rules and doing what she wanted. I was also praised when I used my diaper and always got a hug after my diaper was changed. I didn’t get very much positive attention in those days, so I responded well to praise. On the other hand, attempts at independence were quickly quashed, usually with a mild reprimand. Scott got to use the potty after the weekend; I guess that meant he was ready to be potty-trained. I knew my turn was coming, which I thought would happen in just a few days. By Wednesday, Scott was in Pull-ups, which made me the only baby in the house. I still had diapers, had the same rules, and had to wait patiently for my turn. Scott got to wear underwear the following Monday and was dry in the morning. He got to eat breakfast from the table, and I still had to sit in my highchair. I knew Scott would be completely out of diapers soon, and I still wasn’t allowed to use the potty. I asked, “When can I use the potty again? It’s been more than a week.” I didn’t want to get in trouble, but I didn’t want this to last forever. My aunt nonchalantly answered, “Don’t worry. We will try again when you are ready.” I protested, “But Scott only had to wait a week. Why do I have to wait so long?” I tried not to whine, but I’m sure I was. To her credit, Aunt Amanda didn’t get mad. I had an honest concern, and my protest made sense. She calmly replied, “That’s because Scott is younger than you. A week to you isn’t very long, but at Scotty’s age, it feels much longer. When you are older, you need longer breaks. That means when we start again, we get a fresh start. If you keep being good, I think you will be ready soon.” Four days later, which was after fourteen days in diapers, I got to poop in the potty. I was praised and even allowed to wipe after. However, my aunt had to finish. I wasn’t clean enough, so she had to finish before putting me in a new diaper. She warned, “You have to do a better job wiping. If you can’t wipe properly, you will have to stay in diapers.” After she changed my diaper, she said, “It’s time to see if you are ready for Pull-ups. Tell me when you need to use the potty, and I’ll take you.” Unfortunately, I was used to peeing in my diaper. After a couple of wet diapers, my aunt said, “I guess you’re not ready. Let’s wait. We will try again in a few weeks.” Epilogue That happened three years ago. I’m now going into my senior year in high school and thinking about college. I don’t know what college I want to go to, but I have the grades to go to UC Berkeley or any other top school. I want to study computer science, and my grades are good enough. My grades weren’t very good in middle school. I got C’s and D’s, and I was hanging out with a bad crowd. I don’t think I was a bad kid, but I was immature and trying to impress kids I thought were cool. I guess being put in diapers changed my attitude. I stopped trying to pretend that I was something I wasn’t. I ended up spending the entire summer in diapers. I got to wear Pull-ups a few times, but always went back to diapers. By the end of July, Scott was out of diapers at night, which left me alone in the nursery. My mom’s tour was extended, and I had to stay with my aunt through Christmas. I had more accidents, so I was diapered most of that time. It was a virtual high school, and my aunt kept a tight rein on me. I ended up with straight A’s that semester. I moved back with my mom after Christmas. I didn’t start at my high school until January. By then my old friends had different friends and they ignored me. This is where things get strange. My mom gave me the same freedoms and responsibilities that other kids had, and I didn’t handle it well. I started to argue with my mom, and my grades suffered. I did better when my mom put me back in diapers. She eventually discovered diapers were the key. As long as I have to wear a diaper, she can give me the same freedoms and responsibilities that other kids have. I’m now in diapers all the time, and I’m not allowed to change my diaper. I’m not even allowed to ask; I have to wait until somebody checks my diaper. My mom is responsible for my diapers, and if she can’t be there, somebody else is. It’s been this way since 10th grade. I’m not treated like a baby all of the time, but my mom will give me extra attention when she thinks I need it. We aren’t sure how to handle college yet, but that’s not my problem. I have no say in the matter. My cousins are doing fine. Scott still has accidents and needs diapers sometimes, but not all the time. Debbie hasn’t needed diapers for a long time. I stay with my aunt during the summer, and I still have to follow the same rules when I’m there. Jessica is still our babysitter, but she also takes care of her older brother Jason, who is now in diapers and treated like a toddler.

This story starts the second story arc about Nikki and Sarah (which is the one I'm still working on). It starts in the spring of 2019; a little over three years after the previous story. There will be more tags added as the second and third part of the story is posted, but I don't want to give you spoilers. Like the other stories about Nikki and Sarah, it probably helps to have read the previous ones (although it's not strictly necessary), so I've added the relevant links to the Nikki-and-Sarah-verse index thread ------------------------------------------------ Mary Sue Sophie giggled. The deep, red plush of the carpet tickled her bare skin as she crawled down the hotel hallway behind Natalie. She had to admit that it was hard not to be distracted by Natalie's butt, clad in tight, black latex pants, swaying hypnotically only inches away from her face. The surface was so polished that Sophie could see her own funhouse reflection. Suddenly she felt a tug on her collar. Apparently she had lost focus and slowed down and Natalie had pulled the leash slung over her shoulder to urge her along. They reached the railing of the mezzanine overlooking the crowded lobby and Sophie knelt by Natalie's side. "I still can't believe this is legal," she said, looking at all the people below. Natalie didn't answer. She only bent down to adjust Sophie's outfit. Although calling it an outfit was rather generous. It was really more of a collection of narrow leather straps. "Mistress?" Sophie said quietly. "Yes sweetie?" "May I please go to the bathroom?" "Of course," Natalie said with a smile, "but be quick. You don't want to be late for your spanking down there." She nodded towards the lobby below where somebody was setting up some furniture that would never be seen in an IKEA catalogue. Sophie got to her feet and got a playful little swat across her butt before she hurried off towards the bathrooms. It didn't take her long to find them, but by the time she reached a stall she was close to bursting. Undoing the necessary buckles and sitting down, Sophie relaxed and let go. "I'm curious about one thing." Nikki put the tablet down on the kitchen table. "What?" Sarah looked up from the soup she was stirring. "Well, I've read enough of your stories that it's obvious that Sophie and Natalie are you and me." Nikki got up and walked over to the stove to stand next to Sarah. Sarah said nothing, but stirred the soup more intently. "So why isn't she wearing proper underwear?" Nikki gave Sarah's butt a squeeze through her sweat pants, making her jump. "And for that matter, why aren't you?" Sarah blushed a little. She and Nikki had been living together for more than three years, and Nikki had known how she liked wearing diapers for almost four. But Sarah was still embarrassed when Nikki talked about her diapers like they were the most normal thing in the world. "I mean, you are wearing the other half of the outfit." Nikki hooked a finger through the metal ring of the collar encircling Sarah's neck. Sarah swallowed. Their ground rules had been simple. Whenever she wore her diapers, she would also wear her collar. And whenever she wore her collar, Nikki was in charge. Of course, Sarah had quickly spotted a loophole. The rule said that she had to wear her collar if she wore diapers. It didn't say that she had to wear diapers whenever she wore her collar. Besides, Nikki was bossy even when she wasn't wearing her collar. But they both kept that part of their relationship private. Mostly. Sarah lowered her eyes demurely. "I like wearing it. It reminds me that my mommynatrix loves me." Nikki arched an eyebrow in the way that made Sarah melt. "Aaaaand?" she asked. "What do you mean Ma'am?" Sarah stopped stirring the soup. "You sure you're not fishing for some extra playtime? The grown-up kind?" "Maybe," Sarah admitted with a mischievous smile. "Is it working?" "Maybe." Nikki gave Sarah a quick peck on the cheek before letting go of her collar. "But not before dinner." Sarah returned her attention to the soup while Nikki set the table. Fifteen minutes later, inbetween spoonfuls of soup, Nikki brought the subject up again. "About your story," she said. "What about it?" Sarah reached for another roll and bit into it with an explosion of crumbs. "Is that something you'd, I don't know, maybe want to try?" Nikki asked hesitantly. "What? Public spankings? No thanks." Sarah shook her head, but stopped eating and looked at Nikki, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "No." Nikki paused. "I meant... You know how they say 'write what you know', right?" "Yeah?" "Have you ever been to one of those conventions?" Sarah gave a short, dismissive chuckle. "Riiiiiight." Nikki took a deep breath. "Would you want to?" Sarah sighed. "Nikki, I don't mind too much when you make me wear my diapers when we go out, but then they're hidden and only you and me know about them. There's no way in hell I'm going to have them on display for a bunch of strangers." "That's not really how it works," Nikki mumbled. "How would you... Oh my god! You've been to one, haven't you?" Nikki blushed in a very un-dominatrixy way. "When?" Sarah demanded. "Five years ago. A couple of months after we broke up." Nikki reached for a piece of bread and suddenly found her soup really interesting. There was a scraping sound as Sarah moved her chair next to Nikki's. "So what was it like then?" Sarah slid closer and nudged Nikki with her shoulder. "Teeeelllll meeeeeee." "Cut it out." "But I wanna knoooooow," Sarah said in her best whiny-kid voice. She knew she was pushing it, but she just couldn't help herself. Nikki sighed and rolled her eyes. "Was it full of cute little girls you could boss around?" "I said 'cut it out'." "And they just went crazy when you wiggled your butt in those tight leather pants of yours," Sarah continued. Nikki turned to look at Sarah, raising an eyebrow. "Is this really the way you want to do this?" she asked. "Uh-huh." Sarah grinned and nodded. Nikki hooked a finger through the steel ring on Sarah's collar and pulled her so close that their noses almost touched. "You," Nikki said sternly, "are being a very annoying, little girl. No more kisses and playtime for you." "Aaaww" "It's your own fault," Nikki pointed out and let go of Sarah's collar. Sarah pouted and moved her chair back to where it had been before. A few minutes later they had both finished eating. Sarah began clearing the table. She put the bowls in the sink before wiping off the table. "I just had an idea," Sarah said. She left the cloth on the table and knelt down next to Nikki's chair. "Yes?" "For Halloween this year, how about we dress up as characters from Beauty and the Beast? I could be the feather duster. I bet I'd look good in a French maid's outfit, don't you think?" Sarah rested her arms on Nikki's lap and looked up at her pleadingly. "And you'd look great in that outfit Lumiere has. You could even do your French accent. And maybe we could convince Mike and Amina to let us dress up their terrier as the beast. That'd just be adorable." "I..." Sarah rose and began singing with an exaggerated French accent. "Be ourrr guest. Be ourrr guest. Put ourrr service to ze test. Tie yourrr napkin 'rrround yourrr neck, cherrrie, and we'll prrrovide ze rrrest." She wiggled her butt from side to side in time with the song. Nikki laughed and grabbed Sarah, pulling her onto her lap. "You're such a dork," she said with a smile and leaned in and gave Sarah's nose a little kiss. Sarah made a show of checking her watch. "Six minutes and thirty-five seconds," she said, grinning broadly. "Huh?" "Oh, I just wondered if I could get you to kiss me less than ten minutes after you said 'no smoochies'." "Oh you're such a brat. You're going to regret that," Nikki said. She wasn't lying.

Hey guys and girls, I've just recently moved to the area and I'm looking for Abdl/dl friends I'm 27 male amd recently moved to thurgoona :)

Hi there, Long time silent follower and reader of the stories on this site. Had been thinking of writing a story of my own for a while now and the backtoschool competition gave me the motivation I needed. I envision this as being the first part of a three or four part story so not all of the context is provided at the beginning however let me assure you that the characters mentioned are eighteen years of age and older. Further background to the school and its students will be explored in later instalments. Hope you all enjoy! Mount Usher Reform School Jesse Wilson fidgeted as discreetly as she could at her desk. She desperately needed to use the bathroom and wanted nothing more than to run out of the lesson and relieve herself. However, students were not permitted to use the bathroom during class time at Mount Usher Reform School. Gently, shaking her right leg to distract from her ever-growing discomfort in her bladder and bowels Jesse contemplated her options. There was still thirty-five minutes left until the bell and she did not think she was going to be able to hold it until then so she had figured she had three choices. First, she could try to get up and leave. The problem with this however was that the six Classroom Disciplinarians standing around the edges of the classroom were watching all of her classmates intensely, searching for any signs of misconduct, and if she tried anything she knew she would be down the back of the class over their knee before she could even open her mouth to plead her case. A spanking such as those delivered by the Disciplinarians was no small thing to endure and Jesse suspected, the way she was at the moment, it was likely it would result in her having an accident. No, she thought, there was no way she could leave without disaster ensuing. Even now, she had to be careful her less-than-full attention on the lesson did not give the Disciplinarians cause to punish her. Sparing a moment to focus on the board and what Ms. Smyth was saying she was glad at least that this emergency was occurring during Maths, which came easy to her, and she was confident would be able to answer any question without difficulty if called upon. Returning to considering her problem Jesse thought that her second choice was to just attempt to hold it regardless and hope that she would be able to make it despite how badly she felt she needed to go. It was possible she thought that if she could just keep her mind off things she may manage to get through the rest of the class. The only problem with this of course was if she was wrong and soiled herself. Not only would she be humiliated in front of all her peers and the school staff, it would bring her to the attention of the sixth Classroom Disciplinarian the so called “Potty Patrolman”. Toileting problems of any kind fell under the Potty Patrolman’s remit and once that happened it was an inevitable and demeaning return to fulltime diapers. In her one and a half years so far at Mount Usher it did not matter what reason or circumstance might have led to you having an accident – whether it was an illness, bedwetting, a prank, an oversight when wiping - the moment your school approved panties were any less than pristine at the 8am and 8pm inspections you were done for. Even now as Jesse feigned attention to the lesson she could see her friend and former roommate Hazel in the front or “Toddler” row with two other girls. A simple mishap with some orange juice and now she was strapped into a highchair styled chair, though at normal height, sucking a pacifier and wearing a onesie and thick diaper – the uniform for those at toddler level. No, Jesse shook gently shook her head, she could not risk an accident of any kind, let alone a messy one, if she were to retain what little independence, she had at the Reform School. This she knew left her with a final but almost similarly inconceivable choice. Although, it was made clear to the girls that they were not allowed to leave to go to the bathroom during class and all requests to do so would be denied and ignored, if it was an emergency, they could ask to use the class potty. This was a bright yellow, child’s potty with a smiling clown face, sized for adults located in its own demarcated “Potty Zone”. The rules stated that it could be used during class up to three times in one week before you would be placed under the care of the Potty Patrolman. The only problem was that the Potty Zone was in full view of the staff and students since it consisted only of a small plinth to the side of the classroom, upon which the potty sat, and a named sign which hung on the wall behind it. The logic of the Potty Zone being that the student was not really missing class if they used it no matter how long they took since they could keep following the lesson even as they went. Thinking it through Jesse knew what she had to do. Although it would certainly be mortifying for her, she was going to have to ask to use the classroom potty. It was rare enough that any of the girls took this option because of its nature, even just for peeing, so the fact Jesse was going to use it for both number one and two would be the talk of the school for a couple of days. However, she told herself that although no one was likely to completely forget the memory, at least she would not be moved down a level, and her experience would be overlooked once someone else had been embarrassed by the Reform School. Waiting until Ms. Smyth came to a natural rest in her explanation, Jesse raised her hand. Despite the anxiety and dread she was feeling over what she had decided to inflict on herself she was glad she was mature enough to make the decision. Already it was clear that a few of her silent but deadly toots had attracted the attention of the Patrolman’s two aids who were sniffing about and looking in the direction of the Toddler and Pre-schooler rows. After a few moments Ms. Smyth noticed Jesse’s hand and called on her. “Yes Ms. Wilson, do you have a question about the lesson?” “No Miss” Jesse replied with only a slight tremble in her voice. “I wanted to ask if I may use the potty? It is an emergency”. Hearing this, Jesse felt as though the classroom came to a complete halt and now everyone’s eyes and attention was focused solely on her. Her anxiety instantly went up a notch and she could feel her cheeks going red. “Really now” Ms. Smyth said grinning like a Cheshire cat and throwing knowing glances to the Classroom Disciplinarians and Patrolman’s Aids. “Well, I suppose …” she started and then paused as though considering things while Jesse waited in desperation “I suppose you may since it is not like you to try and waste class time, and since you stated it is urgent, if, you have been paying attention. Before you go tell me what is the answer to the following problem on the board?” she said pointing to a particular question. Jesses looked at the problem. It read: Solve for X: 3x+7=22 Thankfully it seemed easy enough to her. Jesse replied “Em… the answer is X is equal to five Miss”. Hearing her answer Ms. Smyth frowned for a moment making Jesse even more anxious and distressed. She was desperately trying not to fart or let anything out to prevent herself from embarrassing herself further than what was necessary. Eventually however Miss Smyth said “That is correct. How did you get the answer?” Rapidly, Jesse replied “To isolate X I subtracted seven from both sides. That left me with 3X is equal to fifteen, then I divided both sides by three to get X is equal to five.” Seeming satisfied then Ms. Smyth said “Yes, well done that is correct answer and solution. For those of you who are struggling… I am looking at you in particular Ms. Robinson” eyeing one particular girl in the second row “take note, as similar questions will be on the test on Friday”. “Now Jesse” she said motioning one of the Potty Aids “you can go and Mrs. King will help you. Everybody else begin working on problems three to fifteen in your textbooks. I do not need to remind you that the Disciplinarians will be watching to make sure no one is daydreaming or slacking off.” Having heard Miss Smyth’s words every one of their classmates turned to their books and copies with an exaggerated fervour all determined not to be punished, however Jesse knew each of them would be attentively following her shameful performance in a few moments out of the corner of their eyes. After all she would have done the same. Who and how someone was punished or humiliated was top gossip among the students at Mount Usher. Jesse waited until the old but fierce Mrs. King proffered her hand before standing, gently taking her hand in turn and allowing herself to be led to the Potty Zone. Instead, of taking the shortest path through the rows, Mrs. King brought her to the opposite side of the rectangular classroom, up the aisle to the top of the class and then finally back down the other side to her destination. Thankfully Jesse still had the presence of mind to watch out for other student’s feet up at the Toddler row who attempted to trip her in a bid to make her have an accident – misery loves company. Mrs. King stood Jesse on the plinth in front of the potty and then began to undo her skirt which she removed after checking it and placing it to one side. She then pulled down Jesse’s underwear and had her step out of them so that she was naked from the waste down but for her shoes and ankle socks. Once she had fully inspected Jesse’s panties for any sign of accident, she placed them on top of the skirt and then taking Jesse’s hand once more directed her bottom down onto the potty – and not a moment too soon. Jesse had practically been doing the potty dance while Mrs. King was going through the proceedings. Looking up at Mrs. King, the older woman finally said “alright Jesse try going to the potty like a big girl”. This was all the encouragement Jesse needed and having been given permission she proceeded to noisily empty her bowels and then bladder into the plastic container. A great squelching noise could be heard by all as her poo hit the bottom of the potty and then a loud hissing noise. Such was her relief that in spite of herself Jesses could not help but release a sigh as this happened. It was only as she was letting out a final few small but very audible farts that seemed to resound within the hollow potty that Jesse began to feel embarrassment over what she had just done. At first, as she came back to herself, she became aware that she was half naked, sitting over her own filth, the smell of which was awful, and there was no toilet paper in sight for her to clean herself up. Then she realised that not only had Mrs. King been watching her the whole time but she could also see some grins from the Class Disciplinarians. Suddenly, she felt tremendously vulnerable and ashamed, and if she could have hidden somewhere, anywhere she would have done so. It was only that Mrs. King was still gently holding her hand that she was prevented from running out the door and sobbing. Looking Jesse straight into her eyes which were beginning to look a bit lost as she receded into herself Mrs. King said “Well done, Jesse” as though she were congratulating a two-year-old who had just begun toilet training. “I bet that feels so much better having gotten that all out. Such a big girl making it to the potty on time!” Looking over to the Toddler and Pre-school rows before looking over to the teacher she said “There are a few potty pants who could take note here as well, isn’t that right Ms. Smyth. Ms. Wilson isn’t just good at maths, she’s also very good at using the potty, isn’t she?” “She certainly is Mrs. King. That was very well done. Exactly what a big girl should do when she needs to use the toilet” replied Ms. Smyth once again with a large grin on her face. Turning to Hazel in the front row, she said “I bet you wish you could be a big girl like your friend Ms. Wilson here, don’t you Ms. Fisher? Instead of being a silly little toddler who does all her pee-pee and poo-poo in her pampers.” Turning red at being singled out, Hazel squeaked behind her pacifier “Yeth, Mwis Swmyth”. “Well, maybe you’ll get there one day, but by the looks of your diaper not for a good long time yet. You have absolutely soaked it! You are quite the little super soaker aren’t you Ms. Fisher." Looking very ashamed and on the verge of tears Hazel said again “Yeths, Mwis Swmyth”. Although, it looked as though Ms. Smyth would keep berating poor Hazel or one of the other toddler girls, at her last comment, Jesse heard someone snigger from somewhere in one of the back rows which they quickly tried to turn into a cough. Unfortunately, for them once of the Classroom Disciplinarians caught them and dragged them up out of their desk by the wrist with an undignified yelp from the girl. Even as she still sat on the potty, Jesse could see that it was Margaret Carter who had been caught and knew from her demeanour that it was probably a nervous laugh she had let out rather than a malicious one. However, now Margaret had caught Ms. Smyth’s ire. “Is there you find funny Ms. Carter about a girl Ms. Fisher’s age still going to the bathroom in her pants?” Ms. Smyth asked giving Margaret a death stare. Jesse like all of the girls in the class knew that this was one of those questions with no right answer. If Margaret said yes then she would likely be given a lesson in empathy which could end in any manner of punishment. However, if she said no then she would be asked to explain why she was laughing and if she could not give a satisfactory answer be called a liar as well. Knowing she was trapped Margaret replied “Sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to laugh but I couldn’t help it. Super soaker is what my mother calls my two-year-old brother as well.” “So, you admit then” said Ms. Smyth “that you were laughing at Ms. Fisher”. “Yes, Ms Smyth” said Margaret hanging her head in shame. “And why did you try to conceal the truth by coughing?” asked Ms. Smyth “I, I didn’t mean to laugh at Ms. Fisher, I wasn’t trying to be mean Miss. It was just the word super soaker made me laugh so I tried to turn the laugh into a cough to hide it and also to try not to disrupt the class” Margaret replied hesitantly. “I see” said Ms. Smith. “Well even if that is the truth and you did not mean to offend Miss Fisher and disrupt my class, you have certainly done that, haven’t you…Haven’t You???” “Yes, Ms Smith. I am sorry Hazel I did not mean to laugh” she said turning to a still mortified Hazel, before turning back to Ms. Smith. “I am sorry Ms Smith for interrupting your class and wasting precious learning time”. “Good. I accept your apology” said Ms. Smyth “and I am sure Hazel does as well. I am glad you recognised your fault and you did not need me to tell you to apologise. That shows maturity. However, because I will not tolerate bullying of any sort in my classroom, even by accident, Mr. Moore is going to give you a sound spanking during recess this morning to ensure you do not do so again, even accidentally, and even when it is funny that a big girl like Ms Fisher is a super soaker. Do you understand and accept your punishment?” Margaret having gone pale knowing that she would not be able to sit down for a week after being paddled by Mr. Moore, otherwise known as Classroom Disciplinarian Number 4, said “Yes Miss. I understand and accept. I’m very sorry”. “Good, and I’m sure you will be very sorry indeed missy during recess! You are lucky though that you accepted your punishment so maturely. Next time I catch you laughing at anyone in my class you are going to have your bathroom privileges revoked and then we will see how funny you think it is being a super soaker yourself.” The whole class having just witnessed this discourse never looked busier to Jesse just then, who was still sitting, half- naked on the potty. “Now where were we” said Ms. Smyth turning back to Jesse and Mrs. King. Checking her watch Ms. Smyth said “there are only just under twenty minutes left in the lesson Mrs. King after dealing with all that silliness. If you could finish helping our potty superstar with her business and bring her back to her seat so that she can continue with the lesson I would appreciate it.” With that Ms. Smyth seemingly lost all interest in Jesse and began walking down the classroom rows, checking to see how much work the students had done so far. Jesse knew from experience that Ms. Smyth would find enough mistakes that there would be at least two or three spankings given out by the end of the lesson. Still out of sorts and feeling very exposed when Mrs King asked her, more quietly this time, if she was finished Jesse could only nod her head in assent. After that, she gently manoeuvred Jesse up off the potty and turned her to the side before forcing her to bend over. Mrs. King then produced a packet of Huggies Baby Wipes as though by magic and began wiping Jesse’s dirty bottom and genitalia before Jesse could even think to protest and ask to do it herself. After each wipe had been used Mrs. King made a point of showing it to Jesse and whispering things like “so dirty” or “disgusting” before throwing them into the potty. Once she had been cleaned to Mrs. Kings satisfaction, her school approved panties were then brought back and Jesse was asked to step into them. Mrs. King then drew them up Jesse’s legs pulling them up right to the top more tightly than necessary so that for a moment it almost seemed as though she were giving her a wedgie. She then had Jesse step into her skirt and tightened it for her, before patting her on the bum a couple of times and leading her all around the room and back to her chair. It was only as Jesse sat down, momentarily relieved despite being thoroughly humiliated she had managed to avoid total long-term disaster, that she realised something was wrong. Her panties felt a little bit damp and sticky under her bum where she was sitting. Jesse hoped it was only residual dampness from the baby wipes but she feared Mrs. King had deliberately failed to wipe her completely so that when she pulled the panties back up so tightly, they would be stained. Considering this new dilemma, Jesse looked on as the potty was being taken to be emptied by the other Potty Aid in the class. With the windows open and special air conditioner working overtime it would not be long until the potty smell would be gone from the classroom, unless of course one of the Toddler or Pre-school level students had a messy accident. If her soiled panties did not give off a potty smell, Jesse felt that it was possible this issue would go unnoticed until lunch when she could quickly swap her panties in her dorm room and wash her current pair by hand. However, she feared that for some reason Mrs. King was out to get her after what she had just done and she would make up some excuse for a panty inspection before then. Suddenly, it was looking all too likely to Jesse that all the indignities she had just put herself through may have been for nothing and there would be more to come soon. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jackson is a young man fresh out of high school. He is finding that a job is harder to come by than he would have previously assumed and is getting tired of searching. Just when Jackson thinks there is nowhere else to look he spots an opportunity and decides to take the plunge. --- This story, like all my other ones, has been available on my Patreon page for the last week. The lovely people who pledge at the $5 level get to see all my public story updates one week before anyone else and those at the $10 tier also get acces to TWENTY exclusive stories. There are other tiers and rewards available and they can all be found on my Patreon page. https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 I wish to give a big thank you to all of my beautiful patrons: DannyDazzler, Jerry J, Craig G, Steve, LetsMakeAgithaGreatAgain, C Dom, J Onyx, Dre, Pat M, Sierra C, Kris, Miss X, Ali T, PF, Georgia C, Joe, Camilo H, Jason M, Seamus B, Jeffrey G, Charlie S, Martijn de J, Phantom Sonic, Vivi L, Mike S, Dr J, Bojack D, Blipp, Duncan G, Jake W, Brandon G, LuvsSissy, DreaR, Alex B, Malcolm E, Pete W, Cless, Frank S, PatheticABDL, Joshua M, NunyoBC, Kim, S Miller, Britnee L, Tim F, WillNotWill, Orion F, Tom H, Sterling W, Jens B, Whatsnot, Justin152, Charles L, Trenton M, Bask25456, MagmaLord, Diapering Daddy, Pierry L, Trish C, Curiosity24, Peter C, ReiofLight, James K, Anne Mette B-H, Kirk H, Mikkel L, Eric D, Bruce D, Alice W, Findlay, Bob S, Timothy A W, Erik P, Ben F, Steven H --- Carter’s Correctional Care By Elfy Jackson kicked a can down the sidewalk as he slouched along with his hands in his pocket. He was in just a shirt and pants thanks to the hot summer sun that was relentlessly beating down on him. As he walked along he passed people going in the other direction, they were much happier than he was. Jackson didn’t want to be out of the house and doing this stuff. He had only graduated from school a week ago and already he was being hounded to get a job by his parents. Jackson wanted a few weeks just to unwind after all his effort at school. He didn’t think it was fair that he was expected to go straight from classwork to proper work. He wasn’t ready to give up the life he had enjoyed for one that seemed relentlessly full of work. The eighteen-year-old was armed with a backpack full of CV’s as he walked through the town looking for any windows advertising work. Jackson was growing increasingly tired and annoyed as he handed out all of his resumes. The thing that really annoyed Jackson was that these were jobs he didn’t even want, most of the jobs were things he considered beneath him. “This is so stupid.” Jackson muttered to himself as he walked down a side street and away from the main shopping street. It was nice to get out of the sun for a few minutes. Jackson had covered the whole of the main town and didn’t feel like he had made any progress at all. He stepped out of the side street on to a quieter road lined with warehouses, most of them were full of stock for the larger shops. Jackson took a moment to stop in some shade and watched as some trucks drove out of the nearby gate. Thinking he would’ve had more luck sitting at home and going on to the internet to look for jobs Jackson crossed the road and slowly ambled along next to the large metal fences protecting the factories and warehouses. Jackson checked his watch. It was nearly midday and his parents had told him not to come home until the evening. It was ridiculous in Jackson’s mind that he was forced to be out and doing this. He had handed out a dozen resumes and had covered the whole town centre, he didn’t know what else he was expected to do. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just do all this online. At least there were less people back here and Jackson felt less of the hustle and bustle. Most of the noise was produced by the huge trucks that left the large buildings and rumbled off down the road. Jackson watched one turning into the factory area and as he followed it’s progress he saw a poster on the metal fence. “Volunteer needed!” The poster had written in big and bold lettering, “Product testing. Payment on completion. Enquire within.” Jackson looked through the chain link fence at the large warehouse just beyond the large concrete car park. The car park was half full and Jackson wondered if he should walk up and volunteer for the opening. It was all rather mysterious and he couldn’t see any branding on the brick building that might give him a clue as to what product might be being tested. Checking his watch Jackson was reminded that he was expected to be out of the house for a lot longer. He didn’t see what else he could be doing so with a few tentative steps he walked through the open gate where the truck had gone, in the distance he could see a large metal door open and the truck backed into the building. A couple of large men in white coats quickly pulled down the metal shutter after the truck had disappeared inside. Jackson felt very out of place on the driveway towards the car park and he averted his eyes as he passed a couple of very burly guards. Jackson was very aware of his lack of stature, he was only 5’5” and just 130lbs. He was used to being smaller than most of the people around him but the workers he passed seem to tower over him, they stared as he walked past and Jackson looked the other way. The door to the reception area was in front of Jackson behind a small fountain. The public facing area of the reception was all glass but the bright sunlight made it impossible for Jackson to see inside. As he approached the door he saw that there was a side door that the workers were coming out of, maybe they weren’t even employed at the place Jackson was heading too. As Jackson stepped up to the sliding door it automatically slid open. Jackson stepped through the doorway and felt the air conditioning blowing on him from the ceiling. The cool air felt wonderful on the sweaty man’s forehead. As he looked around he saw a rather small carpeted area that was very quiet, the only sound was a ticking clock. A receptionist’s desk sat against the wall opposite the door. A young woman was sat at a desk typing diligently on a computer, she didn’t turn to look at the new entrant and there was no obvious signs that she even recognised that someone had just walked in. Jackson nervously stepped forwards and looked at a large painting on the wall. The painting was a portrait of an older gentleman, he looked very stern and the eyes seemed to follow Jackson around the room. It gave Jackson the creeps. “Ahem.” Jackson cleared his throat as he reached the desk and smiled at the woman sat in front of him. The receptionist didn’t look away from the screen or say anything. She simply put one finger up to tell Jackson to hold on a minute. Jackson waited and glanced at some of the forms on the desk. It was very clean and tidy, there was a disarming picture of a small dog sitting facing the receptionist. He didn’t really get a chance to read anything written on the pages but it all seemed very important. “Hello and welcome to Carter’s Correctional Care.” The receptionist said, “How may I help you?” “I saw your advert on the fence.” Jackson said, “About the volunteer position. Is that still open?” “It sure is!” The receptionist’s face lit up as he said he was here to volunteer, “Let me just get you the forms. Please take a seat.” The receptionist quickly stood up and indicated the table and chairs to the side of the room. Jackson watched her go through a door behind the desk before turning to the glass table. There was a large leather chair that Jackson sat down in, he had some second thoughts about doing this but he decided to stay to at least ask some questions. The receptionist was only gone for a minute before returning with a nurse. Jackson watched them walk over to the table with a nervous smile, he had no idea why a nurse was required and it did very little to make him feel better. “We’ll need you to sign these permission forms and waivers.” The receptionist said as she placed a pile of papers down on the glass table along with a pen. “I don’t want to be rude.” Jackson said nervously as he picked the pen up, “I just wonder why there’s a nurse?” “There’s nothing to worry about.” The nurse stepped forwards to say, “I’m just here to make sure everyone stays safe.” “I’m… Not sure I feel comfortable.” Jackson said as he looked at the paper. “The process is very simple and will be completed in just a day or so.” The receptionist said, “You can leave a contact number so we can tell your next of kin where you are. It is all above board and there is nothing to worry about.” Jackson took a moment to think about what he was doing. He looked out of a nearby window at the car park he had walked through to get here and wondered whether he should leave. If he went home without any money or employment he knew his parents wouldn’t be happy. The nervous young man turned to the receptionist and nurse who both stood in front of him, their smiles were very disarming. “We can promise that they pay is more than adequate compensation for your time.” The receptionist said in a way that seemed rehearsed. Jackson took a deep breath and put the pen to the paper. He signed his name and put the date in the appropriate boxes. Almost as soon as he had finished the receptionist leant down and took the paperwork away from him, she checked the signature and then gave the nurse a small nod. “If you would like to come with me.” The nurse said as she indicated the door she had come through just a minute or so ago. Jackson stood up and picked up his bag. He hadn’t expected things to suddenly start moving so fast but he walked forwards behind the nurse anyway. As they walked past the receptionist’s desk he saw the phone and was suddenly reminded of his own phone. “Don’t I have to give you guys my home number?” Jackson asked, “So you can call my parents?” “We’ll get it from you later.” The nurse quickly replied without turning around. “Oh, OK…” Jackson said quietly. Once through the doorway Jackson was led down a small corridor. He heard the door behind them close and lock. There was a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway, they looked heavy and imposing. “Through here please.” The nurse said as she opened a door to the side. There was a plaque on it that read “Preparation Room.” Jackson walked through the door that the nurse held open and entered into a room that looked like a nurse’s office. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as the nurse closed the door behind them both. “I just need to take a few quick measurements before you go through to the testing room.” The nurse said as she put on some gloves and looked through one of her drawers. “What will I be testing?” Jackson asked as he watched the nurse pull out a clipboard. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” The nurse replied, “If you could just step on to those scales over there for me.” Jackson didn’t like the non-answer but he did as he was told and stepped on to the scales near the wall. The nurse peeked down at the result and wrote it down. “OK, that’s a good and healthy weight.” The nurse said with a smile, “Now if you could lay down on the bed for me.” Jackson rather warily climbed on to the surface. He would’ve described it much more as a table than a bed and he laid back on the thinly padded table. The nurse quickly came over with a tape measure and began to take all of his sizing information. Jackson allowed the tall woman to move his arms and legs to take every measurement she needed. “You can leave your jacket and bag here.” The nurse said when she had written down her final measurement, “You won’t need them for the testing.” The nurse watched and waited for Jackson to drop his bag and take off his coat. Then she opened the door to let Jackson back out to the hall. “Through these doors you will find the testing area.” The nurse said as she indicated the double doors now directly in front of them both, “I must ask you to comply with all instructions and you will receive your reward at the end.” Jackson was just about to ask what the reward was actually going to be but was cut off as the door was opened and he was quickly shepherded inside. He was rather shocked as he watched the nurse give him a small push and as soon as he was on the carpeted floor inside the door was closed behind him. There was a small click as the door was locked. Jackson slowly turned around to look at the room he was in and felt his breath being taken away. The room was very large and the startled young man estimated it to be the size of his old school gym. The first thing Jackson noticed was the furniture of the room, it was like a giant nursery or maybe even a day care. There was a crib placed against the wall, a changing table in the centre of the room and more toys than Jackson had seen in one place. Everywhere he looked he saw things that reminded him of a nursery and even the walls were full of small star charts and other posters tailored for an infant. The second thing Jackson noticed was that he was not alone. Standing around the room and looking his way as if they had been waiting for him were around half a dozen men and women in white coats, they were dressed very similarly to the nurse Jackson had just been following. There was an eerie silence in the room as everyone looked at Jackson. Jackson was more confused than ever before and he wanted to leave the room right away. He turned back to the locked door and knocked on it hoping the nurse from before would still be there, maybe she would let him back out. “I’ve… I’ve changed my mind!” Jackson called through the door rather desperately, “I’d like to go home now!” There was no response from the other side of the door and after a few seconds of waiting with baited breath Jackson knocked again. A few seconds later he hit the door much harder but there was still no response, he was almost scared to turn his head and look back into the room but before he even had the chance to do that he felt a hand on his shoulder that made him jump. “If you would like to come this way, sir.” An older man said as Jackson turned around.

(I've been writing a new story using novelai. Most of the actual text is mine, as I've found that the ai software, needs alot of help.) I've currently written about 25,000 words and this is the first 4000.) It was early, or at least early enough for Las Vegas standards, 10 AM. It was late last night when Nick, Alley, Tom and Diane had all gone out together and had a couple of drinks. Nick says, "Guys I can't believe we are here, it's Vegas Baby!" They walk through the casino, the sounds of slot machines ringing. Diane says, "What are we doing today, what's first?" Nick says, "I think we should head over to the hotel and check in." Tom askes, "OK so when are we doing this VR thing, I'm really stoked to try it?" Alley follows behind, distracted as she is doing some searches on her i-tap and half her vision is filled with a list of girly boutiques she'd like to shop at. Diane and Tom are holding hands. Tom asks, "Hey are you coming with us?" Alley responds, "Uh, sure. We should do something first right, I mean isn't that why we came to Vegas?" Nick turns back and looks annoyed and says, "OK, so let me guess you want to go shopping?" Alley snaps out of her reverie and responds, "No, well I mean not yet, but it would be good to see some stores and then after the VR I'd like to check out some places. Diane checks the VR hotel on her i-tap and tells the group, "Guys its 10AM we can't even check in until 3PM and the VR doesn't start until 5PM, so we have plenty of time. Alley, where do you want to go?" Alley thinks about it for a moment and says, "Well there is a nice shopping area near the hotel called the Fashion District. I looked at a map and it seems to have some cool shops, plus I can grab some food. Nick gives Diane an annoyed look, and she responds with a sarcastic grin, "OK, yeah, that sounds good, you guys hit up Fashion District and Tom and I will go the sci-fi museum, right buddy?" Tom says, "Uh, Yeah I guess that sounds fine. Alley you have a map in your i-tap?" Alley nods yes. As they get to the main entrance of the casino and step out onto the hot Las Vegas day and see a massive crowd of people. There are signs for a concert at the hotel, a massive pop-star, the music can be heard even where they are. Tom says, "Wow, it's busy." "OK, lets meet up at 1 PM for some food, how about a Chinese buffet?" Diane asks. Nick responds, "Sounds good, see you later guys." Alley and Diane, walk off towards the Fashion District, while Nick calls an uber with his i-tap. "Dude, look at that old guy over there with the phone, wow, even here in Vegas there are old fashioned people." Nick says as he points at the man with the phone. "Oh yeah, that's crazy, I wonder how old he is?" Tom responds. "He has to be like 45 or something, what a dinosaur. Hey, check it out, that's our ride," Nick points to a red car and the two men jump in. *** Later that evening. Nick, Tom and Alley and Diane, have completed their check-in at the VR hotel, and are walking to the intake center. The place is mostly empty as a majority of the clients purchase short 2 or 3 hour sessions during the day and not the expensive overnight session that Nick has purchased. The group had been arguing for an hour about which simulation to enter. Nick stops and turns to Diane, "I'm just saying, you picked that restaurant and it was horrible, so why don't you just let me pick the simulation." Alley adds, "I liked the restaurant, I'm sorry that you didn't. Anyway, I don't know why you guys are fighting, the fact is Tom and I don't have an opinion and which simulation we do, as long as it's not too violent or confusing. So just make up your minds." "I just think we should try a star wars, where we can fly star ships, and stuff," Nick says. Tom adds, "Yeah, but we could just watch the movies, it would be alot cheaper.” “Bro, I told you my Dad hooked us up, he’s like a shareholder or something, don’t worry.” Diane said, “I'm sure you would prefer some Science Fiction nonsense, but Alley and I would prefer Rivendell." "I don't care, it's your decision." Alley said. The group enters into the VR lobby, it's a stark white environment, like a medical office. A middle aged woman is behind the counter smiling. She is wearing a stark white uniform and smiles professionally as the younger group walks up to the counter arguing. "Hello, welcome to AVR, my name is Jennifer, and I will be your technician for today's experience, please state your name and reservation code." Nick, still annoyed, says, "Hi Jennifer, I'm Nick, umm. I don't have my code." Jennifer professionally hides the annoyance from her voice, "Can you check your email on your i-tap sir, the confirmation code will be there." "Look, I'm Nick Lutz, and I've signed up and paid for a group session for 4. Here are the 4 of us, can't you just look up my name or something." "Yes sir, Mr. Lutz. Please give me one minute to look up your reservation." Alley steps up, "Hi Jennifer, can I ask a quick question? We can't seem to agree on the simulation, I'd like a fantasy simulation and he," Alley points at Nick, would like to do Star Wars. Jennifer is distracted by the question while trying to look up Nick's information. She finds herself growing more annoyed at these rude young people. "Excuse me ma'am, I need a minute to find the reservation. Then I'll be happy to answer." Another technician who had been listening in, steps forward and says, "Hi, my name is David and I'm the manager on duty, I'd be happy to answer your question." "Yes, David, thank you. Some of us want to do a fantasy simulation and the guys would prefer something in the Sci-Fi genre, any chance we could do both?" Diane asks. David answers, "Actually, we have a special today, if you purchase 4 sessions. Oh wait, no you paid for the group discount, you have to all do the same simulation. I'm sorry. These sims use tremendous computing power. You would not believe the electricity and heat load of this place. Sorry, we can't offer two." Tom adds, "How much would it cost to do two?" David smiles, "Well, the 12 hour hour package you’ve already paid for would be $1000." Tom feels his throat gulp, "Oh, umm... yeah that's alot of money." "OK I have your reservation here sir, but I still need that confirmation code for security purposes." Jennifer says. "Geeze, fine," Nick says and uses his i-tap to fill his vision with his email account, he finds the message from AVR and reads off the 6 digit code to Jennifer." Jennifer types the code and then says, "I have you and 3 others, can I have their names?" "Alley, Diane and Tom," Nick responds. "OK, looks like the decision is already made, the science fiction simulation has already been selected when the reservation was made." "You mean we've been arguing about this for an hour and you already made the decision!" Diane yells at Nick. Nick responds, "Whatever, I can't be held responsible, I asked what you wanted and you didn't respond, so I made a decision. Listen Jennifer, my friends are being idiots and my girlfriend would rather do Rivendell, whatever the hell that is, so just change it.” “I’m sorry sir, I can’t it’s already loaded, there will be a substantial delay,” Jennifer said. "Guys, calm down. OK, I'm ready for space ships or whatever." Alley says. David gives Jennifer a stern look, "Guess you’re off the hook, You think you can handle it from here?" he asks. "Yes, David, no problem. Please continue." Jennifer says. Nick is looking annoyed again, and David notices, and says, "You'll have a good time, the system is fantastic, and I guarantee you won't know you are inside the simulation. Jenn, I'm heading out for the night, I trust you'll take good care of these folks." David says and exits the room. "Thanks, David. Yes, sir, I'll take good care of them." Jennifer says and the group all notice a hint of sarcasm. "OK, please follow me," Jennifer leads the group into a side door with modern smoky glass windows. There is a conference table and comfy chairs, "Please have a seat." "Now, a few questions first, how many of you are virgins to Advanced VR?" Alley, Tom and Diane all raise their hands. "Ok, you're not alone, VR has come a long way since the days of goggles, and now thanks to the i-tap our system can connect directly with your senses and provide a very vivid dream-like experience. So, the only way to truly experience this is to do so. Just remember that while things will seem very real to you, they are not real. For instance you may get hit with a stormtrooper blaster, and you'll feel a sting, but you're not really hurt. The simulation will also make sure that you don't die." "What if I jump off a cliff?" Diane asks. "If the simulation allows it, you'll jump off a cliff. And if you would die from a fall, you won't, instead you'll just have a rough landing, maybe feel a bit shook up," Jennifer answers. "OK, I think we get it, can we start now?" Nick asks. "Of course, but because you've paid for a premium overnight simulation, there is the matter of protection." "What do you mean by protection?" Tom asks. "Well, in order for the VR experience to be authentic, the body will react the way it normally would, and so in order to preserve the authenticity of the experience, you will need protection." "What kind of protection?" Alley asks. "We have a variety, in the restrooms you will find shelves with pull on and tabbed briefs of different sizes and absorbencies, I recommend the thicker ones for an overnight experience." Jennifer explains. "You mean like diapers?" Tom asks. Jennifer smiles, "Yes, they're not really diapers, but they work similarly. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." "I'm Tom and there is no way I'm wearing a diaper," he says. Jennifer's face becomes stern, "Did any of you not even read a brochure, or look us up online, the overnight experience makes it clear that you will have to wear protection.” “I didn’t read that, no one told me,” Tom said. “Sir, this is the standard procedure. You signed an agreement, if you can't do it, you will not be able to participate in the simulation." Diane is annoyed and says, "Let's get this started." "Nick you didn't say anything about diapers, and you said you did this before?" Alley asks. "Umm, I just did a one hour session, but the website said nothing about diapers." "It's there, you just didn't read it, Sir," Jennifer says, "I'm sorry, I need a verbal agreement from everyone, or we will not start." Nick is clearly annoyed, "Fine, whatever." "Great, go on and get changed, make sure you have a bowel movement if you need to and after you've put on your briefs leave your clothes in the cubicles and put on the robes. I'm working overnight, and part of my job is to monitor your health, so if I find you need changed I'll take care of that. Also if I find out that you've not put on your brief, I'll just put one on you." "Wow, this is a little embarrassing," Alley says. Nick adds, "I know, but its worth it, I did it before and it's amazing." The guys and girls split off to the men's and women's room to change. Tom walks in the Men's Room and looks around, he sees a shelf with 20 or so adult briefs, and they are not what he expected. Instead of being a diaper with tapes, they are like the kind of underwear you would wear as a child, they just slide up and even feel like cloth. "This isn't so bad I guess," he says. He quickly puts on his brief and walks out. . Alley enters the women's room and is shocked. She was expecting a bunch of diapers, but the shelves have a large variety of styles. The briefs are just like the ones the men are using. "This is pretty weird, but I'll give it a try." She removes her clothing and slides on the brief, "Wow, this feels a little weird, and why did they have to make the print pink," she says. "Oh, come on, pink is your favorite color, you're the most girly girl I know," Diane replies. "True," Alley says from her stall as she slides the brief up her legs and ties the robe on. The group meets back up in the conference room and Jennifer nodes in approval. "OK guys, let me show you the next step, follow me." Jennifer leads the group into a room with four medical style beds, beside each bed is a high tech plastic device on wheels with a digital readout. The room is stark white, perfectly clean and modern. Each of the plastic machines has a thick cord of cables that all run into a computer in the corner of the room. "Please lie down on the bed." Jennifer instructs. Nick and Tom and the girls climb up onto the beds and Jennifer places the device over them and attaches a number of leads to their heads. That interact with the subdermally implanted i-tap devices. Each device had a band that wrapped around their forearm connected with a cable. "You'll feel a tiny bit of pain." She said as a small needle in the band punctured a vein and injected sedatives. For the 12 hour sessions clients would be given a continuous stream of light sedatives, fluids, and sugar. "Now, there are a couple things that you need to know, first off, once I turn on the machine and you enter the simulation, you will not be able to see me. It is extremely important that if you feel a sense of distress or panic, and need help, you just relax. Your simulations are so real that once you enter you won't be able to leave. In fact, you won't even remember you're in a simulation. But you have a safety switch, if you say 'help Jennifer' your simulation will stop and I'll come and talk you through. Just relax and try not to panic, and remember "Help Jennifer." "Wait, is this safe?" Diane asks. "100 percent safe. Now, let's begin. Remember, if you need help, say 'Help Jennifer,' and I'll be there. You're going to be asked to confirm that you are entering AVR and giving consent for our systems to interact with your i-taps. Once that happens the machine will administer a light sedative to help you enter a dream-like state where the simulation takes over." "Can't you just send us directly into the simulation," Tom asks. "That's the next generation of AVR, which is not ready yet. Just click OK, when prompted." Alley see's a wall of text in her vision that replaces the white plastic device hovering above her head. Her AI assistant assures her it's just a standard agreement so she focuses on the OK button and clicks yes. A red light on the plastic device over her head turns green. Soon everyone's devices are green. "Now, it's going to feel like you are drifting off to sleep, don't be alarmed, everything is fine." Jennifer says. Nick closes his eyes, and soon his breathing is steady, and he is asleep, a few minutes later everyone is out. "Geez what a bunch of spoiled brats," Jennifer says. "You know it is my last day here, I could teach these kids a lesson." she continues. She checks their vitals on her tablet and they are all fine. Jennifer goes over the computer which has the Science Fiction simulation loaded. She enters a password that she's seen David use several times and brings up the program index and goes to the kink simulations. As she looks through the list her eyes settle on the most humiliating one in their catalog. Jennifer goes in to adjust some of the settings. "Yeah Nick, you were the biggest jerk, and Alley, you seemed nice enough. "You guys are going to hate this," Jennifer says and chuckles then uses the mouse to click Start simulation sending the group into the "Naughty Nursery" program. Diane is rudely awakened by someone placing zip tie cuffs on her arms. She feels the sensors being yanked off her body and is jerked up. She looks around and sees the same thing is happening to Nick, Tom and Alley. "Wait, what the hell is this," Diane yells. A large muscular man is holding her zip ties. "Hush now baby, just relax, Big Daddy is here to take care of you" He says. "Look, I'm an adult, what is going on?" The man laughs, "You were an adult, not any more, the Mistress will fix that." He produces a large metal syringe and pushes the plunger. Diane feels her muscles loosen. She see's Tom try to knock his attacker's syringe away, but his arm doesn't move, and the injection is administered. "I don't understand, what are you doing to us?" Alley asks as she begins to lose consciousness. "Just take a nap," the orderly says and Diane feels herself drifting down. "I've got a special surprise for you Nick," Big Daddy says and pulls out a larger 3 inch needle, "It's a special cocktail, guaranteed to make you a pussy." The orderly holding Nick laughs and he is injected with the special cocktail. Nick is confused as his muscles go limp. He tries to resist but can't and as he's falling asleep. Everything turns black. "Guys, I think I had a bad trip, where are we," Nick says as he sits up in the crib, but something isn't right. Tom and Alley are still wake, and then realize they are sitting up in a giant baby crib.. As Nick's vision clears he is in disbelief at what they are wearing, Diane is wearing stretchy girls sleeper pajamas with rainbows and unicorn print, it's obvious she is wearing a thick diaper underneath. Tom has a t-shirt with a cute truck and a name, he lsqunts and reads, "Tomy. on his shirt. His diaper is out in the open and is an exact replica of a baby diaper complete with sesame street characters. "Where is Alley?" Nick asked. Diane looks around the crib and sees a small toy mirror attached to the bars, she looks and is mortified, "No, No what am I wearing, NO." Tom finally is able to sit up, and notices his diaper and looks around, and says, "Nick, what the fuck is this, where are we, and where is Alley?" "I don't know, but it seems like a nightmare, what the hell was in those shots," Nick answers. "I thought I was in a VR Simulation," Diane says. "Me too, I think we're all dreaming, this isn't real," Tom says. "Well I sure as hell hope it isn't real have you seen what you're wearing?" Tom asks. "I'd rather not," Nick says, but he looks in the mirror and sees he is wearing a very sissy blue and pink plastic bubble romper. Embroidered in the front of the chest it says 'Sissy' in flowing letters. "What the fuck is this shit?" "Yeah, this place looks like a nursery, and we're the babies" Tom says. Diane is freaking out, "What's wrong with you guys, look at this," She points at the diaper that is stretching her sleeper pajamas out. Tom tries to comfort Diane, "Hey, its ok, maybe they just loaded the wrong simulation?" "Nick, is that a pacifier clipped to your outfit?" Diane asks. Nick realizes he has a clip on pacifier, and reaches for it. He tries to yank it off, but it's clipped on, he removes the clip but it seems much more difficult than it should have been. "Damn it," Nick says. "Nick, I think you need this," Tom says. Nick ignores Tom and throws the pacifier across the room. "Ok, let's see if there is a way out," Nick says and looks over the bars of his crib. He stands up on the soft bedding and tries to pull himself over the bars of the crib. This should be easy for an athlete like Nick, but he can't seem to get a grip and pull himself up. "Shit, my muscles must still be out, come on help me over the bars," Nick says to Tom. "Ok," Tom says. Tom tries to lift Nick over the bars, and after a lot of struggling they are unable. "Umm, guys, we're different, my strength is way down," Tom says. "It's the drugs, just relax, let's not panic, we're probably still dreaming." "Maybe it's not a dream," Diane says. "Look at your arms, there is no hair on them," Diane says. The two men look at their arms, and their legs and sure enough their bodies have become more youthful. "That's strange, but let's not worry about that now," Nick says. "Oh and Nick, your hair is kind of feminine, it's a little longer and cute looking. And Tom, yours is longer but in a little boy way, its cute," Diane says. Nick and Tom are in shock and both look at each other and then their hair, but they are interrupted. "OK, I'm done with this shit," Nick says and tries to rip off the plastic romper he is wearing, but his strength is not what it was; the fabric stretches, and he can't tear the outfit off. He sees the the romper is snapped around his legs but it's held on with little locks. "What the fuck is going on!" Nick yells in frustration. "Guys, I don't think this is a simulation, this is real," Diane says. "Well whatever is going on I'm not playing." Tom eventually gets under a blanket. and pulls the diaper off down his legs. He wraps the blanket around his waist. "You're right, why don't we just wake up from this crazy nightmare and get the hell out of here," Tom says. "That's a great idea," Diane says. "Oh I remember, Help Jennifer," Diane says, but nothing happens. "That's right, help Jennifer." Nick repeats and again nothing happens. "Guys I don't think this is a simulation, I don't remember the one I did feel this real, and the last thing I remember is entering a room and falling asleep, maybe we were drugged." "This isn't possible, we were in a simulation center, how can we have been drugged?" Tom asks. "You guys, did you see those big needles they injected into our arms, what did they give us?" Diane says. "They had to have been huge," Nick says. "I wonder where Alley is?" he asks. "I don't know, let's look for her," Tom says and they all begin to crawl around the crib, which is filled with baby toys, soft pillows and blankets. "I'm worried about Alley," Nick says, and then looks at Diane, "Diane, did you see what happened to Alley?" Nick asks. "The same thing that happened to us, but she's not here," Diane says. "I wonder if this is some sort of sick game, do you think someone is trying to get revenge?" Tom asks. "Maybe that bitch Jennifer sold us out," Nick says. "You mean the nice lady that ran the simulation, why would she do that, we didn't know her?" Diane asks. "I don't know, let's just figure a way out of here."

How I became an Executive Toy Part 1 Hi, I’m Charlie - six months ago I left school and got a job as an office junior in a large building firm. It’s not a very demanding job but they told me that the prospects were good if I had any aptitude. The office is relaxed but everyone dresses rather smartly, no jeans or t-shirts, and most of the guys wear a suit so I do too. I’m always clean, neat and tidy (mum sees to that) and I hope to do well in this my first ever job. I’m 18, slim, 5’6”, OK looking, always polite (again mum’s doing) and very easy to get along with and often don’t need things explaining twice before I can do what is asked of me. Academically I was lazy, and although did OK in my exams, the thought of university life and more schooling just wasn’t me. I wanted to get work and perhaps have three or four years on my peers before they eventually found themselves on the jobs market. ~ They appear to like me in the office and I’ve become fairly popular with my work colleagues. Almost immediately one of the company directors, Mr Wojciechowski, was very friendly and encouraging towards my ambitions - taking me out on the occasional site inspection with him; as he thought that would give me more of an overall view of what the business was about. He’s witty and you can share a joke with him, when he’s around the entire office a nicer place to work. Not like the other two bosses who are also Polish but in all honesty, scare the shit out of me… very officious and demanding. When we went out to the sites together, and it was at least once a week that I accompanied him on a trip, it all seemed so exciting. At my age, and in my first job, I loved the attention and the encouragement he gave, making me feel special and that I could really go places with the firm. He said he liked the way I said “Yes Boss” when he first asked me to do something for him – I think it was to retrieve a file on the computer system. Embarrassingly, I couldn’t remember his name so I meant to say “Yes Sir.” but it came out as “Yes Boss”, apparently I blushed a bright red at my faux pas. It made him smile. ~ One evening, about 2 months ago, when we were returning to base, he said he had to call home first as he’d forgotten some papers. His house on the outskirts of town is terrific; in its own grounds, very expensive, well decorated and I was pretty impressed. He asked if I wanted anything to drink and, looking at the selection of booze set out on a cabinet, felt like he was treating me as an adult and not as one of the office juniors. He disappeared into another room, which I assumed was to get the papers he needed and after a couple of minutes called for me to go through. I went to help and was surprised to see him standing surrounded by loads of baby paraphernalia - it was like a really well equipped and maintained nursery. Colourful walls with cartoon characters, a crib, toys and piles of clothes and diapers, it appeared to have everything but I had no idea why. The boss was smiling at this revelation and asked me what I thought. I didn’t know what to think. I was a bit shocked but, as I had no idea how to react I sort of mumbled some sort of approval though I have no idea why. His eyes lit up with what seemed genuine happiness. “Glad you like it,” he shrugged his shoulders a little relieved, “it’s one of my… things, you know, to help me relax when I get a bit… stressed.” I’m sure many high-powered businessmen get stressed with their jobs and I suppose they all need an outlet, although I always assumed it was booze or recreational sex and drugs, but hey, what do I know? What I wasn’t sure about was why he was confiding this ‘secret’ part of his life to me. “Er.… it’s all very… er… nice and all but,” I wasn’t sure if I dare ask, “why are you showing it to me?” “Well my dear Charlie, you are one of the few good-looking youngsters in our firm and, if you haven’t noticed, I like you a lot.” ~ I was stunned yet pleased at the same time and took in the fact that even though he was in his late 40s he had a very young out-look. The detour to his place was just an excuse to get me alone but when he pulled me against his strong body and told me how good-looking he thought I was, in truth, I was anxious… although mainly flattered by his attention. I’m 18 and have known since before I was a teenager I’m gay but had never acted on my feelings. However, just about any guy looking at me, or me looking at them, gives me an instant hard-on so, with his masculine firm hands touching me, that’s just what happened. He’s not the greatest looking guy, although for his age I suppose he’s OK, but he is very manly and quite an imposing figure… and more importantly, he’s my boss. Now I know my reaction should have been to throw a hissy-fit or storm out but I was dumb-struck as he slipped his hand into my waistband. He flicked the button loose on my trousers, unaided the zip peeled away and they fell to the floor. Although I was shocked, the feelings he was generating in my groin were incredible and I loved it so, when he dragged everything off, including my shoes and socks, I was more excited by the fabulous sensations than alarmed. “God, you are such a pretty… boy.” He breathed with such passion it sent a shiver down my spine. I was taken aback by this. In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to be raped and I didn’t know what to do. The problem was my cock was rampant, and although I was extremely uneasy, I was shaking in thrilled anticipation. This was it, this was the moment, this was when I was no longer going to be a virgin. I was scared. ~ “Do you know just how fucking cute you are?” He whispered in my ear. I wasn’t sure if he expected an answer but in truth I just lay there like a petrified rabbit caught in headlights. He licked my earlobe and then his warm tongue gently intruded deeper. I didn’t know my ear was so damn sensitive and I giggled and squirmed under his gentle touch. “Oh my God… look at you… you are a picture. Sweet, innocent…” He raised his eyebrows perhaps wondering just how innocent I was, “fuck me I want you as my little baby, my little chicken, my little… toy.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at but he looked me deep in the eye and asked if I’d like to be his ‘Executive Toy’. My brain could come up with no thought of what that might entail so I nervously asked him what that meant. He replied that I just had to be around when he needed some executive relief. “You mean… er… to…” I was naked and looking into the eyes of a man who thinks I’m adorable but I needed to make sure I knew exactly what it was he wanted from me, “to be your… er… boyfriend?” He smiled a strange smile that I hadn’t seen before and slightly shook his head. “Mmmm, maybe but,” he rubbed my naked belly, “I need someone to join me in the nursery and you would be ideal.” ~ I think he could see the total lack of understanding in my eyes, although the stroking of my tummy was having some effect, he expanded on what he thought. “You look so sweet and, with a slight change of hairstyle and, well, other little changes, I think you would be a wonderful playmate.” He changed from rubbing my belly to softly manipulating my rock hard dick. “I get my relaxation from looking after… a baby. Changing him, playing with him, teaching him stuff, reading stories… generally doing… what a daddy should do.” My mind wasn’t really listening because I was swallowed up by the sensations flowing from my balls along my throbbing shaft. “You would be my surrogate baby and I’d look after you,” he looked down at me and I closed my eyes as my orgasm approached; his fingers working the nerves in my bell-end so I could no longer control myself. “You would become my pretty infant son at weekends and, well, whenever I need you to be a sweet, defenceless, innocent baby.” He stopped his long slow massage. “What do you think? Is it something you might like to… experience?” ~ At that moment I was on the verge of coming and desperately needed him to continue. In my longing I would have agreed anything if only he’d finish me off. He was waiting for a response and, with my dick in his hand I knew there was only one answer I could have given. My heart was pounding with desire. I knew I was agreeing to something but wasn’t that aware of what it was. However, a shiver of craving and a desperate need to come led my thoughts. “Yes.” I breathed. “Anything.” My desire for that orgasm had consumed every other sensible feeling in my body. I just needed to come and with this man holding my cock I was his puppet as he softly stroked it. He smiled and bent down and kissed the tip of my leaking penis. “You’re such a good boy.” His tongue lapped across my piss slit and I could feel my balls bubbling. I was shaking with pure unadulterated lust. This was my first sexual experience with another person, with another man, and I was caught up in the sheer sexy moment. Every nerve in my body was tingling in anticipation and I desperately wanted to drag this hulk of a man on top of me and explode. I wriggled and panted breathlessly as he took a firm hold of my cock. His hot moist mouth covered it and in a couple of smooth silky motions up and down its shaft I did just that. My naked body arched, a mixture of intense sensations gripped every fibre as I shot stream after stream down his throat, his tongue tickling and enticing the nerves at its end, engraving the moment in my mind forever. ~ After I came, there was no pretending; I was in shock, feeling guilty, possibly ashamed and wondering what had just happened and why? What had I done? What signals had I sent out and… my mind was trying to deal with it all. He was smiling and full of praise for me, telling me what a sweet, clever baby I was. Once he’d finished with the praise I think he noticed my shocked and hurt look but he just told me I could go far in the company… if I kept my mouth shut… and my mind open. I also realised that I was now the guardian of a secret but one I had no power to use. I was an office junior and he was the boss, who on Earth would believe me if I told anyone what had happened? ~ My exposed young body was wreathed in sweat and my post-orgasm thoughts were now of embarrassment and shame. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do next so I lay there and let him make the decisions. Despite being unable to look him in the eye I could tell he was a very happy man. “Well done little fella.” He ruffled my hair. “I think you’ll be an ideal playmate but,” he looked at his watch, “it’s time to get you back.” I tried to raise myself up but he just told me to lie still and he’d see to everything. He went around the room collecting various containers and bits and bobs of other things before returning to my visibly shaking naked body. First he used a very soft towel to wipe away all the sweat, followed by some wet wipes that were cool and smelled of menthol. The icy wipe was quite effective as he paid particular attention to my cock and I began to get hard again. He smiled but just shook his head as if to say that the fun was over for the day. He spread lotion around and sprinkled powder before slipping a soft, plastic disposable under my bottom. I wanted to complain. I wasn’t a baby and I wasn’t up for this type of embarrassment but before these thoughts had formed in my head and able to speak, he already had me secured. He held up a couple of pairs of plastic pants wondering which would suit me best. I was still too stunned to pass a comment as he slipped a thick crinkly white pair up and over the bulky diaper. He helped me to my feet. “There,” he said with some pride, “the beginning of… of a new life for us both.” ~ He stood admiring his work for a few seconds. “That’s how I always want to see you dressed.” He picked up my clothes and gave me my shirt and trousers to put back on - my underwear was nowhere to be seen. The loud crinkle from the plastic pants I found unnerving as I pulled my trousers over the thick padding. I could hardly get the zip or button to fasten as I struggled to get them to fit. In the end I had to give up and leave them open as I pulled on my shirt and jacket, socks and shoes. He drove me home and apart from saying that I was to wear a diaper to work in future nothing much else was said. It felt really strange having such a thing between my legs and I was wriggling around in his car seat trying to get comfortable. He was all smiles when he said that I’d get used to it but my mind was now wondering just what I’d got myself into. Mr Wojciechowski seemed very happy and in truth, despite the diaper, I’d enjoyed what we’d done. It was intense and because my first time had been with someone more experienced, it was brilliant. I was still shaking, that’s how good it was. However, now we’d shared such an event I was sure, once he got to know me better; I could change his mind about the disposable and all that baby stuff. I was beginning to feel quite smug that I had got a boss as a ‘boyfriend’ and that we’d be having an ‘affair’ in the office and nobody would be any the wiser. I began to smile to myself about how fantastic this might be for me… and my career. ~ As I got out of the car he passed me a small canvas bag and said it was my uniform and he expected me to wear it in the office the following day. I had no idea what it was but smiled my thanks and said I’d see him in the morning. He smiled back and said he couldn’t wait. My body trembled in expectation. So, as I waddled into the house, mum was waiting wanting to know why I was late. I honestly told her that I was working on an exciting new project with one of the bosses and that I was sure it would be terrific for my future prospects with the firm. Mum was so pleased she hugged me tightly. I suddenly remembered I had thick padding underneath and quickly pulled away and said I needed to change. She was so full of pride she beamed her love across the kitchen. “You’ve got everything you need to go far Charlie, the looks, the sense and that natural friendly ability… I’m sure you’ll be a huge success sweetheart.” “Thanks mum.” I hope you’re right. I got to my bedroom and shucked off my suit. The plastic pants crinkled louder and I just hoped mum hadn’t noticed the sound as she hugged me, if she did she hadn’t said. I looked in the mirror and the bulge seemed so stupid, I shrugged and thought - if this is what it takes to get on in the world… well… I was sure others had had to do worse. Besides, I was convinced that Mr Wojciechowski, despite his weird little ‘stress reliever’, would soon be only interested in having wild and frequent sex with his ‘sweet little Executive Toy’ and would forget all about his ‘nursery element.’ * tbc

Anyone ever smoke weed while diapered? I'm honestly such a pussy about weed, I'm sort of scared of doing it too often out of fear of getting addicted or something .. Lets make this a weed appreciation thread and speak of our experiences (No haters please)

While it is the first of the stories about Maggie, this story (as well as story number 2, 3 and 4) are not necessary to read . They are a failed experiment in weirdness where I ended up writing myself into a corner. The whole series is rebooted in story number 5, so if these stories aren't your cup of tea, you can safely skip ahead. I promise I won't get angry (just very, very disappointed😉) As with my other stories, this series has an entry on my index post. ---------------------------------- Just one more day of summer Maggie was frustrated. It had been a long day of boring lectures. Maggie felt that if somebody could make even the 1960s sound like a boring time, they really shouldn't be allowed to teach. Especially at the beginning of the semester. They'd pose a suicide risk for the students. She had told her boyfriend Christopher that over lunch. Well, he wasn't really her boyfriend; they were more like friends with benefits. He had made all the right, sympathetic noises, but she knew he'd been ogling one of the new psychology professors. Maggie had to snap her fingers in Christopher's face to wake him up. She had said that she didn't really blame him for looking; after all, it was impressive how she looked like she was in her early thirties while she had to be at least a decade older, but that hadn't been true. She had been feeling down and looking for some sympathy, not a not-quite-boyfriend who couldn't keep his attention on her for two minutes. In hindsight she regretted not just getting up and leaving right there and then. Instead she had played the part of the loyal friend and stuck around until Christopher had had to leave for class. After that, Maggie had had to endure another couple of classes that thankfully weren't quite as bad as the history lecture, but they had still been annoyingly tedious. Add to that four hours of work, and by the time Maggie returned to her tiny apartment, she was just about ready to strangle someone. She really wasn't cut out for work in the retail sector, particularly during back-to-school sales. Even flying around Azeroth on her favourite World of Warcraft character failed to relax her. There was really only one thing to do: Maggie went to bed early. For Maggie, getting ready for bed when she was feeling like this was a little more elaborate than normally. She started by pulling out the bottom towel from the neatly folded stack in her tiny bathroom. It was the biggest and softest of them all and she always made sure to put it at the bottom of the stack so she wouldn't grab it by mistake. Maggie moved the table out of the way, pulled out the sleeper sofa and quickly made the bed. Next she spread the towel out on the bed and folded it several times. After stripping, she sat down on the towel and pulled it up between her legs. She slipped her feet into a pair of oversized granny panties and pulled them up so they held the towel in place. Maggie didn't need the diaper, but for some reason she liked the feeling of being padded; she always had. The thicker the better. If she couldn't bring her legs together, that was perfect. She had lost count of how often she had woken up with most of her duvet stuffed between her legs when she was younger. As she grew older, she had begun to do it intentionally before she fell asleep. At first just using a blanket or her duvet, but eventually she switched to towels. Maggie had never shared this with anyone, but whenever she was stressed or upset, the temptation was always there. And more often than not, she acted on it. Maggie could almost feel the tension leave her body as she lay on her bed, the evening sun peeking in around the edges of her curtains and the warm summer air making a slight sheen of sweat appear on her skin. She slipped a hand inside her diaper and lazily played with herself while she listened to the traffic outside. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep. Maggie awoke with a start and found she couldn't move. She was completely paralysed as a cool draught raised goosebumps on her clammy skin. Some oddly calm corner of her mind worried how it would look if somebody saw her like this: Wearing a big diaper and with one hand inside it. If Chris saw me like this, I'd never hear the end of it. Maggie's thoughts were interrupted by a metallic gurgling sound. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the mirror next to the door. It looked less like a mirror and more like a vertical pool of mercury. Part of its surface was oozing down the wall to form a shiny puddle on the floor. Then something rose out of the puddle; human-shaped, but with a mirror finish. The annoyingly detached and nerdy part of Maggie's mind noted that it was just like the T-1000 terminator. Its surface dulled and it turned around and it was... her. It looked exactly like Maggie. It was wearing the same bulky diaper and granny panties; it even had the same tattoo of a fox barely visible over the waistband of the panties, except it was on the wrong hip. The mirror image walked over to the bed and sat down next to Maggie who pretended to be asleep, peering out through almost closed eyes. It wasn't very hard since she couldn't really move anything else anyway. "Oh stop that," the mirror image said. "I know you're awake." She reached out and brushed the hair out of Maggie's face. Maggie felt her muscles relaxing as the paralysis began to fade away. She tried to pull her hand out of her diaper, but the mirror image stopped her. "Just leave it there for now. We both know you like that." "How?" Maggie whispered. "Well, duh! I thought that'd be obvious by now. I know that your cellphone pin number is your birthday backwards, divided by three. I know you almost flunked history last term." The mirror image reached down to touch her own tattoo. "I know who held your hand while you got this and how you still have a bottle of her shampoo in your bathroom." She stroked Maggie's cheek. "I know everything about you because I am you." "I meant how is this poss.. Hang on, I do not have a bottle of Susan's shampoo," Maggie protested. "No, you're right. It's her conditioner. But that's not what's important; nor is how I'm here. What matters is why I'm here." "And why is that?" Maggie was slowly trying to slide away. "You had a crap day. you were annoyed that summer is almost over and that you're back in school with all the drama that entails. You wanted some sympathy and maybe a good hug, but that dumbass Chris was too busy thinking about that hottie professor." "Yeah," Maggie admitted reluctantly. "So I'm here to make you a deal." The mirror image took Maggie's hand in hers and looked into her eyes. "Do you remember when you were little? When summers lasted almost forever and you didn't have to worry about anything?" "Yeah?" "Wouldn't you like that again?" The mirror image slowly stroked Maggie's hand. "No stupid job or classes to go to; no responsibilities. Not a care in the world." "Mm-hm," Maggie said dreamily "I can make it that way again," the mirror image said and rose from the bed. "Take my hand." In a daze, Maggie swung her legs out of bed and got up. She walked behind the other Maggie towards the mirror, holding her hand. The mirror was so narrow that her mirror image had to step through it sideways, vanishing through the slowly rippling surface. When she pulled Maggie along and her hand made contact with the mirror, she expected it to feel cold, but it didn't. It felt more like a warm, heavy mist or fog. Maggie closed her eyes as she stepped through and when she opened them again she was still standing in her apartment, except it was different somehow. It took her a couple of moments to notice a magazine on the table, but then she realised that everything was mirrored. "Come along now," said the mirror image. Or was Maggie the mirror image on this side of the mirror? Still holding the other Maggie's hand with one hand and holding up the sagging towel diaper with the other, Maggie followed Other Maggie through the door. They emerged in the middle of a small clearing surrounded by trees. Looking back, Maggie saw a small shed. Other Maggie was saying something, but Maggie was still mesmerised by the surroundings. She bent down and picked one of the flowers next to her bare foot. "It's incredible. This even smells real." Maggie breathed deeply smelling grass and wildflowers. "It is real," Other Maggie said. Now come along. There's somebody I want you to meet." ""Like this?!?" Maggie suddenly became aware of what she was wearing. "Oh, nobody will mind. No worries, remember?" Other Maggie took Maggie's hand and pulled her along into the forest. When they came out of the forest, they were at the top of a small hill. Below them was a large house, a pond and a large garden with big trees. "We just missed lunch, but there should be some food left." When they came closer, Maggie realised that everything about the house was a little scaled up. The windows were just a foot higher up than usual, the door was bigger, the steps up the porch was just a little too high to easily walk up. It all gave her the distinct feeling of being smaller than usual. Other Maggie opened the door and walked in, pulling a acutely self-conscious Maggie along. Inside was a kitchen with the same oversized tables and chairs. There was a giant of a woman putting plates and glasses in the sink. She must have been almost seven feet tall and looked like she was in her early fifties. She had that air about her that grandmothers do, even though she was a little young for it. "Hey Mom, look who finally came to join us," Other Maggie said. She turned to Maggie and whispered: "Her real name's Eliza, but she likes it when we call her Mom." "Maggie!" Eliza exclaimed and came over to give Maggie a hug. "We've been waiting for so long. Let me have a look at you." Maggie unsuccessfully tried to cover up her bare chest and the diapers. "Nonononono, that simply won't do. Come with me, dear." Eliza took Maggie's hand and led her out of the kitchen and down the hall to a bathroom. "You hop up here," she said and patted what looked like a piece of the kitchen counter. Maggie realised that it was a giant changing table and just stood there in front of it, dumbstruck. "Oh come on now. You're a big too big for me to lift you." Maggie looked around and saw a stool next to the changing table. She used it to clamber up onto the table and sat there with her feet dangling over the edge. "Lie back dear," Eliza said as she grabbed Maggie's legs and slid her further back. Maggie lay back on the smooth, warm surface. "Are you still dry?" she asked and unceremoniously slipped a couple of fingers inside Maggie's diaper. Maggie jumped. "Hey," she blurted out. "Of course I am." Eliza pulled the granny panties and towel diaper off Maggie in one quick yank, leaving her naked and desperately trying to cover up. "Oh come now. It's nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before," she said. "Now lift your butt." Without thinking Maggie did as she was told and Eliza slid a diaper under butt. She quickly pulled it up between her legs and taped the whole thing in place. The whole operation took only seconds. She helped Maggie sit up and Maggie looked down at the teddy bear print. This is so weird. She reached down to touch it, somehow doubting that any of this was real. The plastic backing rustled softly when she did. "Now, let's see if this doesn't fit you." Eliza held up a light blue summer dress. She slipped it over Maggie's head and helped her with the sleeves before helping her down from the changing table. "Now you go outside and play with the others." Maggie walked back to the kitchen and out onto the porch, wondering what Eliza had meant by 'the others'. But once she set foot outside, she heard excited voices from the other side of the house. She tip-toed to the corner and peeked around it. By the pond she could see four children playing. No, not children. They were adults dressed as children. Then it struck her: So was she. Maggie crept closer, ducking behind bushes until she was close enough to hear what they were talking about. It seemed the three of them, two girls and a boy, were having an argument about some kind of race in the brook that fed the pond. Eventually, they decided that the only way to settle it was another race. They picked up their crude wooden boats and ran upstream. "I can see you, you know." Maggie froze. "Oh come on. That blue dress isn't exactly camouflage." Feeling like she had been caught trespassing, Maggie slowly emerged from behind her bush to see who had spoken. It was another boy. No, not boy; man. He was maybe in his late twenties, average height, a little chubby, with a deep tan and mop of curly brown hair. All in all not entirely unattractive, Maggie thought. He was sitting on a stone with his knees pulled up and his arms around them. "Um, hi?" "Hi, I'm Tommy." "Maggie." "So, you're gonna want to have a seat for the today's grand final of the race," Tommy said wearily. "I think the score is like a thousand points to Maria and a thousand points to Jacob." "So they're tied?" Maggie sat down on the stone next to Tommy. "I have no idea, I've lost count. But they should have time to finish before the rain starts." "What do you mean?" "See that cloud over there?" Tommy pointed towards the mountains in the distance. "The one that sort of looks like a fish." "Yeah?" "When it's on the other side of that mountaintop, it'll start to rain." "How do you know that?" Maggie looked at Tommy. He sighed. "That's how it is every day. It'll start to rain and we go inside to play. It'll stop halfway through dinner." "What do you mean 'every day'?" "Every day is the same here. I've tried to figure out the routine, but this place gets inside your head. Makes you forget numbers and letters and-" "Who're you?" A voice interrupted from behind them. Maggie turned around to see one of the two girls that had run off earlier. "Uh..." Maggie was a little thrown by the childish appearance of the young woman. While she might be around twenty, she was wearing a pink dress so short her diaper peeked out below the hem. She had mussed-up, blonde hair and a couple of dirty smudges on her cheeks and forehead. "Charlotte, this is Maggie," Tommy said. "Maggie, Charlotte." "Like the thpider," she lisped "She's been here a while," Tommy whispered. "Like I said, this place gets inside your head." "Will you be my friend?" Charlotte looked up at Maggie with a wide-eyed, innocent expression. "Um, sure," Maggie answered. "Yay!" Charlotte shouted and threw her arms around Maggie to give her a hug. The unrestrained enthusiasm surprised Maggie, but she returned the hug, rubbing Charlotte's back. "Does this mean you'll stop bugging me now?" a voice asked snidely. When Maggie looked to see who had spoken she saw a girl with olive skin and long black hair. She was wearing overalls and a red t-shirt and was carrying a wooden boat. "I guess you must be Maria," Maggie said. "I'm Maggie." "Ooooo, look at you talkin' all fancy," Maria replied and rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to her Maggie. She's just being a meanie," Charlotte said, frowning at Maria. She grabbed Maggie's hand and pulled her towards the garden. "Come on, I wanna show you something." Charlotte dragged Maggie around the entire garden, showing her the apple tree and the patch of strawberry plants. She was just about to lead Maggie back to the pond when the first raindrops began to fall. Maggie glanced towards the mountains and just like Tommy had said, the fish-shaped cloud was just past the top of it. Maggie followed a squealing Charlotte back to the house. She darted from tree to tree in an attempt to stay dry in the steadily increasing downpour. Charlotte on the other hand danced along the path and jumped in a couple of the small puddles that had formed by the time they reached the porch. When they reached the kitchen, Maria and Jacob were sitting by the kitchen table colouring. Jacob was concentrating with his tongue out. Tommy was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Tommy?" Maggie asked. Maria gave her a quick look before she returned to her colouring book. "Momma's changing him." Charlotte had already climbed onto one of the oversized chairs and started hoarding the blue and green crayons, but Maggie didn't feel like colouring. So she decided to explore the house instead. She found a large living room on the ground floor and bedrooms and an additional bathroom on the first floor. When she made her way up the steep staircase to the attic, however, she found something odd. Somebody had tied some string between the backs of two chairs and put a blanket over it, creating a small tent. Well, small compared to the chairs; it was more than big enough for Maggie. The tent itself wasn't really all that strange, but inside she found a shoe box filled with papers. Leafing through them, Maggie saw mathematical equations and calculations far more advanced than what she understood, but the closer she came to the top of the stack, the simpler the maths became. Eventually, the numbers were replaced by unidentifiable squiggles and then there were drawings of flowers. Bluebells to be precise. Sometimes a single flower, other times whole fields of them. "Do you like them?" Maggie almost jumped out of her skin. Charlotte was kneeling in the opening to the tent. She crawled in and sat down next to Maggie, taking the stack of papers from her. "You did that?" Charlotte nodded. "I wasn't very good at first, but Momma said that if I practised I would get better. And I did, see?" She picked up a new drawing from the floor outside the tent and held it up for Maggie. It was a picture of two stick figures in a green field dotted with blue flowers. One was wearing a pink dress and the other a blue one. "I made it for you," Charlotte said. "Um, thanks." "Come on, Momma said it's dinnertime." Charlotte crawled out of the tent, giving Maggie a perfect view of her soiled diaper as she did. The two girls joined Tommy and Jacob in putting away the crayons and colouring books. They were almost done when Eliza and Maria came back from the downstairs bathroom. "OK, anybody else need a change before dinner?" Eliza asked matter-of-factly. Charlotte looked away and scraped her foot on the floor. "Me," she said quietly. "Charlotte made a stinky! Charlotte made a stinky!" Maria began singing. Maggie could see that it upset Charlotte who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. For some reason she felt oddly protective of her. "Quit picking on her." "Yeah," Tommy chimed in. "Stop being a meanie." "Maria!" Eliza said sternly. Maria stopped immediately. "Sorry," she mumbled, not sounding very sincere. Charlotte however didn't notice and went off with Eliza. Maggie sat down next to Tommy. "So you're all wearing diapers?" she asked quietly. "Yeah. That's the first thing to go. Then it's numbers and letters like I told you. And finally you don't even remember anything from before." He nodded slightly towards Maria and Jacob. "That doesn't sound so bad. I mean, apart from the diapers this place doesn't sound all that bad." "Are you kidding? It's the same day over and over and over. The rain starts at the same time every day." He pointed out the window. "And by the time Mom puts the rest of the food back on the stove, it'll stop raining. Then just after sunset it'll get kinda windy. Tomorrow morning, just after breakfast, a big fish is going to jump in the pond, and so on and so on. Every day is the same and every day you feel a little of yourself slip away." "How long have you been here?" "Shhh," Tommy said as Eliza and Charlotte returned. "She doesn't like us talking about that." Charlotte sat down next to Maggie. Her face was cleaned up and her hair was in pigtails. Eliza looked at Maggie. "How about you dear? Are you sure you don't need a change?" Maggie nodded. "OK then," Eliza said and began putting plates on the table. During dinner, Eliza had the children talk about what they had done that day. The stew was tasty, but a little bland. After they were done, Eliza rose to put the big pot back on the stove. Tommy gave Maggie a nudge and glanced towards the window. Outside, the rain had stopped and clouds had parted to show a rosy sky. ~~~ After dinner, Tommy, Charlotte and Maggie retreated to the attic. Charlotte lay on the floor, drawing, while Tommy and Maggie sat in the tent. "OK," Maggie said, "so the days really are repeating themselves." "Mm-hm." "And you keep forgetting your old life, little by little?" Tommy nodded. "Well, how quickly does it happen? I'm guessing you've been here the shortest." "Actually, Jacob came after me. I think you lose yourself more quickly if you don't resist and he just went along with it from day one. Almost like he was running away from something." "So that's what you've been doing? Fighting it?" Charlotte scowled at them. "Momma says 'no fighting'," she said solemnly. "It's OK Charlotte, we're not fighting." "Um, 'kay," she said and returned to her drawing. "So, how long have you been 'enjoying' this summer?" Maggie made air quotes. "I don't think 'enjoying' is the right word, and why were you doing that thing with your hands?" "What do you me- Oh, the air quotes. They mean ... Look, never mind that. How long?" "I don't know," Tommy said. "Numbers, remember?" "OK, let's try something else then. Do you get older when you're here?" Tommy shrugged. "I don't think so." "So what do you remember from before you came here. Do you remember who's president?" "I'm not sure. Kind of a goofy-looking guy. Really short name." "Bush?" Maggie suggested. "Yeah, that's it. Bush." "That means you've been here m-" "And that other guy," Tommy interrupted, "he'd fit right in here. He couldn't spell either." "What do you mean?" "I don't know how to do it now, but 'potato'?" "Oh my god. You meant Bush One. You've been here for..." Maggie paused longer than she normally would have had to , "...more than 25 years?" Tommy just sat there, looking more and more uncertain. "I don't know," he mumbled. For a few minutes, they just sat there. The only sound was the scratching sound of Charlotte's crayons and the wind picking up outside. "So how do we get out of here?" Maggie finally asked. "I don't know. I don't even know if I ever knew. It's like I'm trapped in a dark cellar." "Why don't you just go back up the stairs?" Charlotte asked, putting down her crayons. "It's not really a cellar Charlotte," Tommy said with a sigh. "Hang on," Maggie said. She grabbed Tommy's arm. "How did you get here? "I'm not sure," he said hesitantly. "It's all so fuzzy. It's like it's me, but not me. Like-" "A mirror image," they both said. "What do you mean?" Tommy asked. "We try what Charlotte suggested. We go out the way we came in. We'll just have to hope that it works for all of us." "So where is this way out then?" "Up the hill and into the woods," Maggie said vaguely. "That's it? We're never going to find it in the dark." "OK my little munchkins, it's bedtime," Eliza's voice called from downstairs. "But mooooom..." Charlotte complained. "Now now, tomorrow's another day." "Okay," she said dejectedly and headed for the stairs. Tommy and Maggie followed close behind. When they came down, Eliza kneeled down and wiped a smudge off Maggie's cheek. "I set up your bed in Charlotte's room since you two are such good friends already." Charlotte squealed with delight at the news. Eliza handed Maggie a toothbrush. "Now you go brush your teeth while I get Charlotte ready. And Tommy, once I'm done with Charlotte it's your turn to have a bath." "Again?" Tommy whined, suddenly sounding more like a kid than before. The look Eliza gave him clearly told him that the matter was not up for discussion. "OK mom," he said and headed downstairs. Maggie went to the bathroom and, standing on a stool, she barely managed to reach the shelf where the toothpaste was. It was hard to control the oversized toothpaste tube and she ended up squeezing out a lot more than she intended. After she was done, Maggie took off her dress and tried to take off her diaper, but the tapes just didn't want to come loose. She even tried to wiggle out of them, but despite feeling somewhat loose, the didn't want to go down past her hips. Nor could she push it to the side to pee. The more she tried, the greater the urge became, until it was almost painful. She finally accepted the fact that the diaper was not going anywhere. She was going to have to wet it; and soon. Maggie was just standing still, almost holding her breath when she heard footsteps and Charlotte's happy chattering. OK, if I wet it now, I can get changed right away. That won't be so bad. Maggie tried to let go, but couldn't. Then she had an idea. She sat down on the toilet. The feeling of the toilet seat was enough of a sense memory to let Maggie let go. She felt a warm rush surround her crotch and seep towards her butt. Maggie slid off the toilet, feeling the warm squish of her diaper just as the door opened and Eliza peeked in. "So," she asked, "are you still dry?" obviously seeing that Maggie wasn't. "No," Maggie said, almost whispering. Shame and frustration at having had to wet herself almost made her want to cry. Eliza knelt in front of Maggie and stroked her cheek. "Don't cry, dear. That's what they're there for. Come along; mommy'll make it better." She took Maggie's hand and led her out the door. Maggie tried to grab her dress before she leaving the bathroom. "Oh just leave it pumpkin. Nobody'll mind." Eliza led Maggie down the stairs. On the way, they passed Jacob and Maggie instinctively tried covered up her bare chest and diaper. Jacob, however, didn't even seem to notice that Maggie was topless. Once inside the downstairs bathroom, Eliza helped Maggie up on the giant changing table. Maggie winced at the squishy sensation as she sat down on the wet diaper. "Now lie back and we'll get you washed and ready for bed." Maggie lay back. Lying on the changing table wearing nothing but a wet diaper felt weird and humiliating; almost like she was on display. She desperately wanted something to cover up with. While Eliza undid the tapes and pulled off the diaper, she hummed a melody that was annoyingly familiar, but Maggie couldn't place it. The whole situation felt so awkward that Maggie just closed her eyes. She almost jumped when she felt a warm wetness on her crotch. "Wha-" "Shh baby. Mommy just has to wash you so you don't get sore." The childish tone only made Maggie feel more awkward. Eliza dried and powdered Maggie before quickly putting a new diaper on her. "There we are. Doesn't that feel all better?" she asked, giving Maggie's crotch a quick pat before helping her down from the changing table. The new diaper was much thicker than the one she had worn before. Maggie couldn't even bring her legs all the way together and had to waddle slightly when she walked. "Why is it so much thicker than the other one," she asked. "We wouldn't want any leaks at night, would we?" "I guess," Maggie admitted. "Now, did you brush your teeth?" Maggie only nodded in reply. She was still fascinated with the extra bulk between her legs. It felt very different from the extra thick towel diapers she had experimented with. Eliza took Maggie's hand. "Okay then, off to bed we go." Charlotte was standing in the doorway to one of the rooms when they came up the stairs. Like Maggie, she was also wearing nothing but a diaper. "Well hello there little munchkin. Why aren't you in bed yet, and where's your nightdress?" Eliza asked. "It's too hot," Charlotte said, looking down and biting the tip of her thumb. "I guess you're right," Eliza said. "But hop in bed now." "Okay," Charlotte chirped and ducked back inside. Eliza and Maggie followed her. The room wasn't very big. There was a dresser by the wall opposite the door and a bed on either side. By the foot of each bed was a toy box. Everything was oversized and painted in cheery colours. Charlotte was already in the bed on the left. Eliza tucked them both in and kissed them good night. It was years since Maggie had gone to bed this early, but for some reason she was so tired that it didn't take her more than a few minutes before she fell asleep. Maggie woke up from somebody shaking her shoulder. For a moment she looked around in the gloom, having forgotten where she was, then she saw who had woken her up. Charlotte was standing next to her bed, clutching a worn teddy bear to her chest with one arm. "What is it Charlotte?" "Can we sleep with you? Mr Bear thinks it's scary when it's dark and windy." "OK, sure," Maggie mumbled and lifted the duvet. Charlotte crawled into bed and lay down next to her, snuggling close. Maggie pulled the duvet over them both and wrapped an arm protectively around Charlotte who was already half asleep with her thumb in her mouth. ~~~ When Maggie woke up, she was lying pressed against the wall. Charlotte was lying on her stomach; arms and legs spread as if she was skydiving, yet still managing to snore softly. Maggie caught a whiff of something and made the mistake of lifting the duvet. The smell that hit her nostrils made it quite clear what Charlotte had done. Maggie carefully made her way around Charlotte to get out of bed. She looked out of the window at the beautiful day outside. The sun was shining from a blue sky with only a few fluffy clouds. She opened the window to let in the fresh air. Or let out the smell. What had that girl been eating? Outside, the birds were singing. Maggie leaned on the windowsill and listened to the world waking up. Suddenly her crotch grew warm as she wet herself. Maggie was shocked. She hadn't noticed that she needed to pee until it was too late. Also, she didn't find wearing a wet diaper anywhere near as distasteful as she had the day before. This place is affecting me already. I have to get out of here. Charlotte stirred and stopped snoring and Maggie walked over to the bed. She knelt next to it, taking care not to put weight on her diaper. "Good morning Charlotte," Maggie said, carefully brushing the hair out of Charlotte's face. "Did Mr Bear sleep well?" she added. "Morning." Charlotte started to roll over on her back, but Maggie stopped her. "Can you keep a secret?" Maggie asked quietly. "Mm-hm." Charlotte nodded. "Me and Tommy are going on a treasure hunt today." Charlotte perked up. "Can I come too?" "Of course you can, but we can't tell anybody. Especially Eliza." "Who?" "Mom," Maggie corrected. "It'll be our secret. Just you and me and Tommy." "Okay. So where is it?" "Where is what?" "The treasure." "Oh. Um... We don't know." Charlotte looked confused. "That's why we're looking for it. I mean, it wouldn't really be a treasure hunt if we knew where it was, would it?" Maggie added. The answer seemed to satisfy Charlotte. "Come on, let's see if Mom is up so we can get you changed." Maggie helped Charlotte up and they headed downstairs. They were halfway down the stairs before Maggie realised that they were both wearing nothing but diapers. "Wait here," Maggie said and darted back up the stairs as quickly as the swollen diaper and slightly too big steps would allow. She returned with a couple of nightdresses from the dresser, but Charlotte was already downstairs and headed for the kitchen. Maggie quickly pulled one of the dresses over her head and followed her. It was a little too small so she couldn't quite get it over the diaper, but didn't really care as long as her breasts were hidden. She didn't really want to run around topless even if nobody else seemed to care about that. Maggie followed Charlotte through the kitchen and out onto the porch. There, sitting on the porch swing in the morning sun was Eliza. "Morning Momma," Charlotte said and gave her a hug. Eliza sniffed the air. "Smells like one of you need a change." She looked at Maggie. "Or maybe both of you?" Eliza got up from the swing and took Charlotte's hand. "Come on munchkin. Let's get you cleaned up." It took a while, but eventually Eliza and Charlotte returned. Charlotte was wearing the same type of short dress as the day before, except it was pale yellow today, and her hair was back in pigtails. Maggie was next and in no time at all, she was washed and powdered. Eliza held up two diapers for her. "So, teddy bears?" she wiggled one of the diapers. "Or do you want the pretty flowers?" she wiggled the other. Maggie decided it was probably best to play along to avoid raising suspicion. She pretended to think about it for a few moments and then she gave a little giggle and pointed at the diaper with the flower prints. "El... I mean, Mom?" "Yes dear?" Maggie wrinkled her nose. "I don't like dresses. Can I have pants like Maria? Pretty please?" she said, knowing that if she was going to be walking around the forest, she wanted pants and not a dress that would get caught on everything. "Are you sure? You looked so pretty in your dress yesterday." "Mm-hm." Maggie nodded. "Well OK, but then you have to remember to let me know if you have to go poopies." "Like now?" Maggie asked, feigning innocence. "Oh, you have to go now?" Maggie nodded in reply and was quickly helped off the changing table and to the toilet. Sitting down and letting go felt better than in a long time. Still, Maggie was surprised at how little it bothered her to be doing this in front of someone who was essentially a stranger. This place is really getting to me. Minutes later, Maggie was washed, powdered, diapered and back in the kitchen. She was wearing overalls with colourful patches sewn on the bib and on one of the knees. Charlotte was sitting by the table drawing something. Maggie looked over her shoulder. In the middle of the paper was a house. "What's that?" "It's a treasure map of course. We can't go on a treasure hunt without a treasure map" "Ah, of course," Maggie said. "Why didn't I think of that?" She sat down next to Charlotte and helped her with the map, drawing trees along the edges. Eliza went back outside and for a while it was just the two of them. The house seemed almost cosy; even if it repeated the same day over and over. Stop that! Maggie shook her head to clear it. As the others waddled through the kitchen door, Eliza got them changed and dressed and soon enough, it was time for breakfast. It had been ages since Maggie had oatmeal porridge for breakfast, but she had to admit that it was not only delicious, but also filling. By the time she was done, she felt as though she had a stomach full of concrete. Walking was almost a little uncomfortable. Eliza sent all the children outside to play while she cleaned up. Maria and Jacob found their boats and headed off for another round in their apparently eternal race. "I still don't see why they can't come along," Maggie told Tommy as soon as they were out of earshot. "Maria would rat us out in a heartbeat. We wouldn't be able to trust her." "Yeah, she's a big, old, meanie doody-head," Charlotte chimed in. "And Jacob? He seems like a nice enough guy." Tommy nodded. "He is. But you didn't see him when he came here. As bad as this place is, I think he had it worse back home." "Are you sure?" Maggie still felt bad for leaving the two behind. "As sure as I can be." Maggie sighed. "OK then. So it's just the three of us," she said and started up the hill she had come down only the day before. Once they reached the trees, Charlotte pulled out her map and started walking off to the left. Maggie had to stop her and point out that she was holding the map wrong every couple of minutes. As the walked deeper into the forest twigs and branches began to get caught in their clothes and the ground changed. It was no longer the smooth dirt that was easy on their bare feet. All of a sudden, pebbles and and prickly, dry grass appeared. "I think we're on the right track," Tommy said. "It's almost as if the forest doesn't want us to walk this way." Maggie agreed. Charlotte sat down on a big root. "I don't wanna do this any more. It's no fun," she complained. "What's in this treasure anyway?" Maggie saw that they were about to lose Charlotte. She sat down next to her. "You know how it's summer now," she said. Charlotte nodded. "Don't you miss the winter? Snowmen, snow angels, hot chocolate..." "And Christmas?" Charlotte said, her eyes lighting up. "Yeah. And Christmas. That's what's in the treasure: Winter." That seemed to be enough to motivate Charlotte so they continued onwards. After quite a while and two tears in Charlotte's dress, they found the clearing. Maggie thought the shed in the middle looked a lot creepier now than it had yesterday. "The treasure's in there?" Charlotte asked nervously as she tried to hide behind Maggie. "I think so." Maggie took a step forwards and all of a sudden the summer day didn't feel quite as nice and warm. There was a clammy chill in the air. "I'm scared," Charlotte complained. "I don't like this place. I want Mr Bear." "You can hold my hand Charlotte," Maggie said and held out her hand. " "M'kay," she said, grabbing the hand, but still walking behind Maggie and Tommy. Maggie didn't need to look back to understand that while she was holding one hand, the thumb of the other hand was firmly in Charlotte's mouth. "You know what Charlotte," Maggie said, trying to sound cheerful. "I think it's supposed to be scary. After all, it wouldn't be a real treasure hunt if it wasn't, would it?" Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached the door. Maggie pushed it open to reveal a brilliant golden light. "Do you guys see that too?" Maggie asked. "Uh-huh." "What's that light?" Charlotte wondered. Tommy took a step forward. "Be careful," Maggie warned. "We don't know if it'll work." "Honestly, either way it'll be better than staying here," he said and walked into the light. "Tommy?" Maggie called after a few seconds, but there was no answer. The only sound was a steadily growing rumble behind them. Maggie glanced back over her shoulder and saw that the perfect blue sky was filled with dark clouds, and lightning flashing more and more frequently. "Come on Charlotte. We have to go too," Maggie said "But I'm scared." "It's OK. I'll hold your hand all the way. And I promise I won't let go." They took another step closer. Maggie held her breath as they stepped across the threshold and into the light. For a brief moment there was the sensation of falling, and then nothing. ~~~ A light woke Maggie up. She yawned and stretched, peering into the pre-dawn gloom to see the familiar things in her tiny apartment. Outside, the street light were swaying in the wind. Wow! That was a crazy dream. She untangled herself from the sheet and sat up. That's when she saw it. She wasn't wearing the towel diaper, but a big, puffy diaper with a cheerful flower print. And it was wet.