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FOREWORD: I experienced some of it like this. However, I've shifted the plot further towards the present day because I don't remember the details of that time well enough. Tom has just turned 13. His cousin is 12 and they share a similar fate. They are bedwetters. His cousin's brother Paul (4 years old) and his sister Viktoria (8 years old) are also part of the story. PART 1: TOM WETS THE BED AGAIN It wasn't far home now. I had just played a sensational soccer match and scored three goals. Everyone celebrated me. But now I had to go to the loo urgently. So I left my bike and looked around for a toilet on foot. But there was nothing to be found. But suddenly I spotted a white toilet seat behind a bus shelter. There were no people in the bus shelter at the time and the windows of the house behind the bus stop all had green high shutters and these shutters were all closed. So I could risk sitting down here quickly and peeing in the toilet. Nobody would see me and then I would drive on quickly. Suddenly my mother called."Hello Tom, we're visiting your aunt today. Get ready. Can't you hear me?" She suddenly shook me by the shoulder. Now the events came thick and fast. While my mother was already standing next to me and I was slowly waking up, I noticed my wet pants and the wet bed. I was wide awake, remembering the dream in which I was looking for a toilet and finally found it. My mother reached for my comforter at the same second. I reacted too late. The blanket was gone. I was sitting half upright in a big wet spot, my hands outstretched for the blanket. My mother immediately realized what had happened. "Tom! Have you wet the bed again? There's no way! I thought we were past this. You're 13 years old. Last week it was an ‘accident’, and the day before yesterday too, that's the third time now." I got hot, the blush was certainly on my face. It used to happen all the time until 6 years ago, but then it was over. Well, almost. It happened from time to time. But every 4 to 6 months at most. Now I was sitting there, wet, again. “Get up!” I stood in front of my mother. My pyjamas were sticking to my legs. My shirt was damp all the way down my back. There was a big wet spot on the bed. The comforter had also taken a beating and even the pillow was affected. "That can't be right, it's all wet! You're not a toddler anymore." My head was flaming red. What was I supposed to say? I was ashamed and stood rooted to the spot in the room. “Take that off” As I didn't react immediately, my mother pulled my top over my head. When she tried to grab my pants, I held them tightly. "No, please don't. I can do that myself." I shouted and ran into the bathroom. As I did so, my wet pants were clearly audible around my bottom. “Go and have a shower in a minute,” my mother called after me. When I stepped out of the shower, my wet pants were lying on the floor in front of me. Unmistakable proof that it had all just happened again. It was so embarrassing. With a towel tied around me, I ran back to my mother in my room. I held the wet pants next to me with two fingers. My mother had already taken off the sheets and put my mattress on the balcony. I was shocked again. Again I had a bright red head. “Do you really have to put the mattress out?” I moaned. “Yes of course Tom, otherwise everything in the room will smell”, she replied more conciliatory. “What should I do with the pants?” I asked meekly. My mother looked at me with a mixture of disappointment, pity and a bit of anger. "Go back, wash them out well and take your shirt and the sheet with you. Then hang everything up on the balcony. I'll put it in the machine with the rest when we get back." My mother looked at me with a mixture of disappointment, pity and a bit of anger. "Go back, wash them out well and take your shirt and the sheet with you. Then hang everything up on the balcony. I'll put it in the machine with the rest when we get back." The washing was embarrassing again, but hanging it up next to my mattress couldn't be beaten. Anyone who walked past the house could immediately see what had happened here. Even the neighbors' children, and especially the two girls from the house opposite, would know everything, I thought. We played together almost every week. For the third time in the last two weeks, my mattress is out there. I would never be able to look them in the eye again. At breakfast afterwards, my “accident” was no longer an issue. Shortly afterwards, we were already in the car on the way to my aunt's house. Part of the family was meeting there today. My aunt had three children, two girls (4, 8 and 12) and the youngest was a boy. Her brother's two boys were also there. Laura, the 12-year-old, and I came into the living room from playing to have a drink. The adults were talking about bedwetting. I was so embarrassed and Laura was obviously in a hurry to leave the room. When we got back home in the afternoon, my mother took care of the laundry and put the mattress back on the slatted frame with the stain facing down. I went to bed around ten pm. I was almost falling asleep when my mother came into the room. "Tom! Have you been to the loo?" “Yes,” I mumbled. “It's better we go again,” she pulled the covers off me and waited until I got up. “I don't have to!” "Then your bed will be wet again tomorrow, darling. Maybe you'll stay dry tonight." I shuffled to the loo. “Stay there, I'll come and get you.” “Mom, I'm 13 and not a toddler!” "Yes, Tom, I know, but you'll be happy if you don't have wet pants again tomorrow, won't you? Aren't you?" “Yes mom.” She left me sitting there for fifteen minutes. I felt so ridiculous. “So Tom, successful?” “Yes,” I lied. I didn't want to wait any longer for permission in such a childish way. "You see. Then you'll certainly be dry tomorrow, big guy," she praised me. "Clean up, rinse, wash your hands and you can slip into your bed. Look how good it smells, I've made everything fresh." She held the blanket open for me and patted the mattress encouragingly. The next morning, my mother came into the room as I was leaning over the bed. Everything was wet again. She caught me trying to separate the dry parts from the wet ones and stopped in the doorway. "But Tom! Again? Your pants are sticking to your bottom. Your shirt is all wet." I turned around and looked shamefacedly at the floor, my hands crossed in front of my wet pants as if I could still cover something up. "That's not possible if you were in the toilet yesterday like we agreed. Were you?" I shook my head. "Tom, that’s like toddler time! Now take your clothes off, give them to me, I'll do it together with the bed sheets. You go and have a shower." I stood there undecided. Do I have to strip naked now? In front of my mother? "Hurry up, you have to go to school. Put your clothes on the bed. I'll put everything in the machine together." She was still standing in the door. I couldn't walk past her like yesterday. I bashfully slipped out of my pants. “The wet shirt too,” she urged me. Now I was naked, I put everything on the bed and slipped past my mother. When I came back showered, my mother had already stripped the bed. The wet mattress was already back on the balcony. She held a new pair of underpants out to me. “Come on Tomi, slip into them.” Naked as I was, I had to put on my underpants like a four-year-old in front of her. “Tomi,” my mother squatted down in front of me as I nervously tried to get into my panties. “Come on, I'll help you,” she held my pants wide open so that I could get into them. “Tomi, we'll have to think of something if we're going to bed so often again.” “Mom, please, I promise I'll sit on the toilet for a long time tonight.” “All right, get dressed and come and have breakfast.” After school, my mother said that we would visit my aunt and her children again today. “Before we go, please go to the loo, Tom.” “Mom.” “Yes, Tom?” “I'm not a small child and you don't always have to remind me.” "Tom, better to go once more than to wet the bed again tonight. What do you think?" I meekly sneaked to the bathroom. When I came back, my mother was already standing in the hallway. “So, everything done?” “Yes, mom,” I grumbled. We were playing in my aunt's garden when my four-year-old cousin Paul was called out onto the patio. “Paul, time to go to the loo,” said his mother. Paul didn't want to. “We're playing so nicely right now.” "Paul, when your pants are wet, you'll go potty again for a week. Is that what you want?" He looked up at me bashfully and ran to the toilet. “Tom, when Paul's finished, you're going straight away too,” my mother said. With a red head, I looked at my cousin Laura, who looked much more grown-up in her summer dress than her 12 years. Indignant, I wanted to say something back, but my mother's eyes met mine, telling me not to discuss this now. “Sparrow, please go.” I crept after Paul and later mumbled something about “cystitis” in front of my cousins. Back home, my mother came into my room in the evening after dinner. "So Tom. Time for bed." I was surprised, I had been going to bed on my own for years. "I'll make up your bed and find you some new pyjamas and you brush your teeth and go to the toilet. Okay?" I was too surprised to say anything. When I sat down on the toilet, she was back. "Everything's ready over there. Are you finished?" I shook my head as I had just sat down. “Should I wait here?” My underpants at my ankles and otherwise naked, I shook my head vigorously. "Fine, I'll come and get you then. You promised to sit up late today and make a real effort," she reminded me. After half an hour, she was back. “Ready?” I nodded. When I was already in bed, my mother came back. “Look, we'll put a thick towel under there so it doesn't all get wet.” “Mom, that's childish.” “Honey, I know it's all a bit difficult for you, but we'll have to think of something to protect your bed.” “Mom” “Get up a minute, I'll put this under you.”

The Federal Work Farm Dee Beth ©2025 Prelude I am about to tell the story of how my 20-yr long career of being a federal marshal mostly doing prisoner transfers, suddenly changed and took a turn I could never have imagined. A bit about myself, after graduation from collage studying criminal justice, I decided to try for a federal marshal’s job, believing that the benefits and challenges could be great for me. I was surprised that after being accepted, and doing the 9 months training, I found a position straight away transporting federal prisoners. It started with simple things like moving prisoners from county lockup into nearby federal prisons, but as I was soon getting a name for myself as being a no nonsense but always courthouse custodian, soon turned into something much more, doing the longer distance transports to central prisons, and eventually I was being assigned to oversee many of the female transports, again because of my reputation. Along the way, I met my first wife, who was a court clerk at one of the local jurisdictions, someone that I saw on many occasions as I was taking possession of some of the convicts that were assigned to me. We started to socialize away from work and within a year, we were married. What started out as a great relationship, soon started to fall apart, a good part of that because of my mother in law’s influence, but more on that latter. Unfortunately, our marriage only lasted just over 4 years, and because my travel was starting to become more of an issue, I never really considered any other relationships after that. Chapter 1 Was my life about to change Fast forward twenty years to what changed my career forever. As mentioned prior, I had been given many women prisoners to transfer, as my reputation of dealing with convicts allowed my superiors to understand that I could manage women without any of the obvious concerns when men were put into authority positions over women. I had a spotless record with regard to these prisoners, and got to know the warden of the Federal woman’s prison in the south west part of the country, the largest facility in the states, as my work took me there often. His name was James W (we never used last names in our business) and on a recent visit, he called me into his office as I finished up my transfer paperwork, and closed the door. He sat us down on a couch inside his office, and started to address me as he would typically say. Frank, I really appreciate all the work you have done in safely bringing many of these women in mates to their longer-term home here, but we have a bit of a dilemma and I believe you are just the person to help us solve it. He went on to say, you see Frank, we are plumb out of space here, but the demand for our services continues to rise as you should be aware of and what I am about to tell you, may be the solution. The warden went on to explain that the DHS did not want to expand this site, as at 600 beds, it is considered a maximum size facility to ensure safety, and housing needs of the inmates. There is no desire to build another facility, as some think that we should be considering more parole for these lifelong sentenced convicts, but we have another possibility, that could involve you. We were offered the opportunity to take over an abandoned military base, very secure and located well out in the sticks but not far from here. What we have in mind, is to move some of the older hardened gals out there, and prompt them to do something useful to sustain the cost of operating the facility. We feel it can house as many as 150 to 200 inmates if managed properly. As mentioned, it is very secure as it was once a very secret location, so has high walls, and fully contained facilities to manage the security necessary to house these tough ladies. He went on to say that the place needed a lot of work to change the barracks into secure cells, but that the facility was sound, with its own water, disposal, and power generation so it can operate off the grid if necessary. As I said, we want this facility to be somewhat self-supporting so what you come up with for these ladies to do is up to you. Originally this facility had its own vegetable gardens for the staff to maintain, and even a small dairy herd for fresh dairy products. Not sure what the condition of these parts of the facility are, but if you are agreeable, we can go there today and give it the once over. I was at a loss for words, until James put his arm on my shoulder and said, we wouldn’t have asked you if we had any doubt that you were not the man for the job, and keep in mind, it is a good promotion from the rating you now have, so could be your retirement nest egg if you consider it. What could I say but OK after that remark, so with that, we took the ~ 60-minute trip out into the sticks, where houses were few and far in between, until I saw as we rounded a corner, and descended into a valley, what appeared to be an over grown fortress. Chapter 2- Promise of much more We drove up to the entrance, where the gates were pushed open many years ago when the last person left, and drove into a court yard surrounded by many different buildings. I was amazed at the integrity of the buildings, as all were solid masonry builds, with solid windows up high, and secure locked doors. The warden had keys of course, and we entered the first which seemed to be an infirmary. There was enough light from the windows to see that it was in fact what we thought it was with exam and waiting rooms, and a few rooms with beds all intact. I was amazed at what good condition it all seemed to be in, maybe a result of the remote location or the federal warning signs still on the outer walls. We went on to see administrative buildings, barracks, and facilities rooms, all in good shape considering how long ago this facility was left vacant. On one side of the facility, we saw areas that appeared to have been cultivated years back, now grown over with weeds. We saw a shed nearby with tractors and utility tools, waiting to cultivate again around these areas. We walked to the other edge of the secured area and noticed what looked like a modern barn, and when entering it, found it was in fact a milking parlor, with a small refrigerated storage tank area, and an adjacent milking parlor with about a dozen areas were the cows were taken to be milked, with the equipment still hanging near these areas. It was very well built, with stations lined with poly materials such that any waste could be quickly washed away into drainage. As we ended our tour, I was again prompted to consider taking on the responsibility, as decisions had to be made within the month I was told. It was pointed out that as this facility was so remote, and could be kept as such, things could happen here that were not possible in the more apparent prison locations, and only long-term criminals would be moved here and would not have much visibility. And finally, this could be the beginning of a new direction in the lives of these lifelong convicts, and I would be responsible for all of that. Chapter 3 Decision time As the warden and I drove back, he pressed me for a decision, and I agreed to get back to him within a week. I had a few other questions, like how would the expenses of the restoration be covered, who would be assigned to me to work at this facility, and how many prisoners would be moved here to start. He assured me I would have a blank check for the facility updates, that he would assign a staff from his most senior guards, all of which would be male to start with, and that the first group of transfers would be no more than a dozen or so of the older ladies. That night as I was flying home, I tossed over many ideas of how this facility could help sustain itself, considering the gardens there as well as the dairy barn. The gardens were sizable, but with vegetable prices as they were, could not provide much of a cash flow. The same problem existed with regard to the dairy facility, it was too small to provide much cash flow. As I was pondering these thoughts, I noticed a young mother sitting across from me with a small child who she was feeding from a baby bottle, and speaking with another older gal, about the struggles she had with her young one. She was not able to produce enough milk to feed her, and the formulas she tried were not working for her child. She went on to say that she had to rely on a local milk bank, but that was so expensive as the supplies were so limited. That overheard conversation made my decision for me. I would take this position, as the warden of a new federal farm for long term woman convicts, and create a facility where a large group of woman were persuaded to becoming lactating women, some without their choice, and start what has been called a hucow operation, with the milk being delivered to milk bank facilities, with the monies earned coming back to help sustain this location. I also happened to know just the person who could help me make this happen, and would get her to help as a payment for ruining my marriage. You see, my former mother-in-law was a well-trained woman’s health services nurse, specializing in lactation services, and had retired recently from that position as I had found out from a common friend of ours. She would often tell me how she helped so many mothers that could not get the hang of breast feeding, or were not making enough milk for their infants, and was so disappointed in me for not giving my wife a baby so she could help her with this special bond as well. This dialogue went on for years and I believed actually was a big part of breaking up our marriage, something I always blamed the mother-in-law for. Chapter 4- A plan As I thought more and more about this, I imagined having one of my staff convince Maggie, my former mother-in-law, that there was a position that would be fitting for her as head of the infirmary at this federal location for only woman, and she would have a supervisor position, easy to manage with great benefits including nice living space and a huge salary. Once she was at this remote site, I would take over convincing her she had no choice but to stay here and resume her well-practiced duties of helping woman lactate, but in this case, to produce breast milk for commercial sale. I thought of many ways I could not only get some revenge from her, but make her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and lock her into this position of “herd management” Once I got home, I immediately called Warden James and told him I would take the job as I had formulated a plan, and would need to get a crew together to start the reconstruction as soon as possible. I also told him to begin to round up temporary housing for myself and my staff as the facility would take weeks to be ready to become livable. I also wanted him to screen a crew for me, some of which would be senior people so they would have to have more than correctional officer skills. I mentioned I would be back there in a week and half to sign my formal papers and screen the people selected. In the meantime, I would inform my current supervisors of my choice to take this promotion, and wrap up any lingering responsibilities I had with my current job. Chapter 5- Starting my new job As the week passed quickly, I also made arrangements to have my apartment lease canceled, made arrangements for my possessions to go into storage, and got packed for my trip back to see my new area of employment. Upon arrival, the warden greeted me warmly, told me he had made arrangements at a local hotel for me for a couple of days while temporary housing was being set up at our new location, and set up interviews for the next few days for the crew he picked. We signed my new working contracts first thing, and was introduced to the first of the group selected, a well-regarded guard named Mel who just happened to have a business degree prior to coming to work in the prison system, as the pay seemed much better. We had a long discussion, and I pressed him on his loyalty and ability to keep quiet about what would be happening at a new location, which was not to be divulged until he was on board and the NDA’s were signed. He seemed to be very anxious to move into a position with more responsibility, more pay, and able to use his business knowledge as well. One down, and a bunch to go after the first day! That evening that warden took me out to a very nice dinner and we discussed how things were coming along. He was happy to know I had a plan, but told me it was not for him to know about, as that was as agreed when this opportunity was first discussed. I was happy to hear that and also that the temporary housing was soon to be ready, and the rest of the interviews were set for the following days. As promised, by the third day, I had a crew of 15, one of which was to be my left-hand man, and supervisor of the rest of the crew. I made a point of driving out to the location with Mel in my new Federal black SUV, followed by the rest of the group in four other similar vehicles. I explained our plan to Mel, who was very surprised to hear of my elaborate plans, but as he was sworn to secrecy, was instructed to only tell the remaining staff what was necessary to know for now. I told him to get the group settled into the new temporary housing now set up within the walls of the facility, and the next day start the work on turning this place on again, and making changes to the buildings for the required security and upgrade options. Chapter 6- A new day at an old facility That night we all settled into our new quarters, with the provisions provided in the housing proving to be adequate for about a week or maybe more, until we could establish a supply chain. The next day Mel was busy with the crew, explaining the process, and getting the facility secure from outside visitors as first priority. By end of day, the main gate was operational as well, with security devices turned back on, and newer modern replacements on the way. The facility power and water systems were started again, with a bit of help from the group to correct the many problems that popped up. All in all, a lot of improvements were made to make living here possible by the end of that first full day. As the days passed into weeks, the entire area had been cleaned up with the help of the tractors and utility tools left on site, and the administration building was starting to look like an operations center as well, with offices again set up, and a security center shaping up with the new equipment arriving as well. The barracks had major overhauls planned with contractors setting up the officers’ quarters first for the staff, small rooms for each member, with a different area planned for a female staff which would follow as necessary. Of course, the generals’ quarters which was a nice size cottage nearby, became my living space after 3 weeks, and I started to move my storage possessions back to my new home. The main barracks were being turned into prisoner housing, with sparce sleeping rooms or cells being set up with appropriate security to keep inmates secure overnight. The kitchen, cafeteria areas were very easy to bring back on line, as very little had to be changed. While the area where the vegetable farming had occurred in the past was easy to regain control of, the dairy barn area was a different issue. Only Mel was aware of what my plans were for this area and for the main source of revenue for the facility, so he was responsible to manage the contractors for this area which was off limits to the rest of the staff. Chapter 7- A different purpose for the dairy barn While the milk storage area was left unchanged except for the change from the storage tank to an auto filling system that filled, labeled, and stored pint jars of breast milk until they were packaged in case lots for sale, many changes were to be made to the milking parlor areas as this was to be used not for cows, but for lactating women in the near future. The changes were many, with the first being elevated foot pods with auto gripping foot clamps spread about 18 inches apart in the area where the drainage was used to dispose of the waste materials in the past. This was to keep the feet of the ladies out of any mess that might occur. The next change was the installation of a rail with a cushioned top waist high, just a foot Infront of the feet pods. This also had an auto strapping device so that when a woman leaned over onto this cushioned rail, she was quickly secured in place so she could not move. Further in front of that space, was another rail with cushioned cutouts for a neck and forearms, such that as a person was positioned there, a clamp was lowered securing their neck and arms in place behind their elbows so their forearms were still usable. This was to allow that person to move food or liquids into their mouth when restrained in this position. Of course, the space between these rails was where the real business would take place, and this is where the milk pumping equipment would reside. The original equipment which was designed for cow udders, was changed to having only two suction devices, similar to what is used to express milk for nursing mothers, but on an industrial scale with the milk being extracted into a system leading to bottling and storage in the front area. There were also the washing and disinfectant stations that were originally used for the cows, now a scaled version of the original, but still with the same intent in mind, but with hoses long enough to be used in this area as well as in the area behind the first rail if needed. All this new equipment was built with materials that could be well maintained daily, so that a level of sterility would be maintained. As an example, the rails were made of a transparent polymer wall so there could be no contamination from either the food sourced for the person near their face, or any waste which left their body behind them. The area where the breasts were placed was well lighted, and covered with a sanitary coating so that it could be kept spotless. The breast suction cups were such that they were cleaned with special equipment after each use, ensuring sterility and avoiding any contamination to the gals that were using these facilities. Of course, the small lines to and storage equipment were also cleaned regularly to keep a high standard for the final product. While these lines were changed from the larger volume pipes used for the dairy cows, to something much smaller for the woman, they were also equipped with special measuring devices to capture precisely the volumes produced, and able to be kept on a log for each individual that was using the equipment, as each had a RFD tag on their neck bracelet installed when they arrived which recorded every location they were at for security as well as other reasons. The last area of change was the front area, or what was formally the feeding area for the dairy herd. This was changed from the feed bins for the cows to a more cafeteria style tray area which could contain the selection of special foods, all full of fat and nutrients to support the growth of the participants “udders” or in this case breasts and backsides as well as stimulating maximum lactation. As mentioned, their hands were allowed to make selections from these trays of delights, but they would be hard pressed to avoid devouring most of this as it would become like a sugar high as they consumed the items, something only available while in this position. Chapter 7- Arrival of prisoners This entire area was kept off limits as these changes were completed, which was well after most of the other work had been done. In fact, the first 15 prisoners had arrived, and were finding their cells a bit boring as anticipated, but the other areas were more interesting such as the gardens and outdoor activities areas. They were not impressed with the collars that each had to wear, but as they were a soft but strong leather, and allowed them to move about outside of their cells without direct supervision, were generally accepted, but in any case, there was no choice in the matter as they were strong enough that they could not be removed without the necessary key. What was missing at this point was the infirmary staff but that was soon to be resolved as Mel had already been in touch with Maggie, my former mother in law, telling her that she was contacted for this opportunity on the basis of learning about her past career from a friend of a friend in the Marshals service, and thought she was the perfect candidate for this prestigious position, and would like her to think about it and how to get back in contact if she wanted to learn more about the possibility. As well as Mel described the opportunity, it was no surprise that Maggie contacted him again after about a week to investigate the offer a bit more. Mel set the trap by speaking of all the incentives of the job, loads of benefits, and a large salary due to her being the person to organize the staff for this new facility. So, after that chat, a date was set for Maggie to visit, suggesting that if she took the job, she could start immediately. Chapter 8- Maggie’s arrival That day came soon enough, with Maggie driving out to meet Mel at the Regional prison she was told about. After she arrived, the warden greeted her, took her to a conference room after which Mel soon joined her and the warden stepped out. Mel went on to explain that the job spoken of was at a very high security new location, and she would need to be kept incognito and unaware of its location until she accepted the position and signed the NDA’s which she agreed to. Soon they were off in one of the black govt SUV’s with Maggie in the back with the windows covered. She had a few questions, but as they pulled into the gated prison after the hour drive, she was awed by the impressive layout and clean grounds that she saw. Mel stopped just in front of the infirmary, and ushered her into this now pristine area, for her review of it. She inspected the reception area, the exam rooms, the couple overnight rooms for patient care, and lastly was taken into a new section which was to be her quarters. It was a very cozy private suite, with a comfortable front room, a very modern and functional kitchen area, and a fantastic bed and bathroom with new modern furnishings. She was amazed at this and was eager to get to the part of the discussion where she could agree to take this job. Of course, Mel was the only one she was able to speak with, as Frank was not to be introduced to Maggie until she was locked into this position, and at that point, he would introduce her to what exactly her new job was to be. As expected, when the final terms of the contract were laid out, Maggie was only too anxious to agree to the position, and sign the final paperwork. As mentioned prior, this was to start immediately, and her belongings would be packed for her by a moving company and brought out to this new location, again as she really did not know exactly where it was. She was told to settle into her new “home” for the day, and she would find provisions already stocked in the kitchen, as well as a selection of uniforms in the bedroom, to try on for fit for her first day at the job the following morning. When she again looked around her rooms, she was amazed at all the different things that were there for her, and especially surprised that almost all the things would fit her. (of course, Mel had checked her out well in advance, using his special skills to get all this information about her in advance) Chapter 9- A new job and an offer she couldn’t refuse The following morning, after a good night sleep in a very comfortable bed, Maggie got up, had a nice breakfast, and found a good fitting set of scrubs, and ventured out into the front office of her new work space where she found her desk and a new computer set up that had not been there the day prior. Soon after Mel walked in again and showed her how to log onto the system and told her that the first 15 inmates would be in to see her at intervals throughout the day and she needed to get to know them and start files on them as well. Of course, this was not anything new to Maggie, so she was very busy as the day continued, and did manage to get through most of the ladies, with only 4 left to do the following day. She had little time to venture out and around the facility, but was told by Mel latter that the following day, this would happen. Another evening spent in her new quarters relaxing and another good night’s sleep, had her up and ready to deal with the last 4 inmates in this current group. Had she known what she would be facing after lunch, she would not have been so happy that morning. As lunch approached and the last prisoner left her clinic, Mel appeared with a lunch tray suggesting she try the cafeteria food rather than fend for herself. He stayed to visit with her as she ate her lunch, not knowing that the food had been drugged and she would soon be out of it, or very susceptible to his suggestions as the drug used was similar to a date rape drug. By the time she noticed the changes, it was too late. Soon Mel was leading Maggie over toward the newly redone milking parlor for her first-hand introduction to what its use was going to be and to meeting her old step son, who was planning on making her the offer that she could not refuse. As they walked into the storage section of the new “parlor” Maggie was in a daze from the impact of the drugs in her system but was able to comprehend some of what she saw. As she looked around, Mel smiled and saw that she was very curious about what she was seeing. After a few minutes, he started to speak to her again, telling her that this was in fact something that she would be managing as well as the clinic she came from. He elaborated by telling her that her background was perfect for what would be happening here, that was to become a factory for breast milk. She seemed startled by that, but he continued by telling her that this area was where the collection and storage of that milk would happen, all very modern and automated! She simply looked around in her dazed condition but could not ask any questions. He added that soon she would see the rest of the area, and would get firsthand experience of how well technology along with the science that she had knowledge of could work hand and hand to allow all these woman inmates to become important for babies around the country. After these remarks, he took her to an area in the corner where there was a door that opened into what looked like a locker room. He told her to remove her scrubs as she would be taken into another section where her clothing would be a problem. As she looked at him with a shocked expression on her face, she slowly reacted as a result of the drugs she was given and started to remove all her clothes. Mel smirked as he noted her older larger than typical frame, and mentioned that retirement had obviously softened her up a bit, but told her that she fit in well with many of the older inmates he had seen in his prison years. She was visibly shaking because of her nudity in front of him, but could not resist his commands. Soon they opened another door and as she walked into the heart of the milking parlor, she again looked around in awe at all the new equipment she saw. Mel simply told her that she would get a first-hand demonstration of how this all worked shortly. In short order Mel had our drugged-up Maggie standing on one set of raised foot pods, and she found her feet suddenly clamped in place with her legs spread wide. Mel let this sink in a minute, and then told her to lean over the rails and place her neck and arms into the saddle openings on the further rail, which she eventually did only to find a strap holding her above her hips, and another cover coming down pining her neck and arms near her shoulders. It was at this point that Frank walked into the area, in front of her so she could see him, and as she recognized him, became noticeably more agitated. Frank simply said, nice to see you again, but as you can surmise by now, you are at my mercy here as I am the warden and I didn’t forget what you did to my marriage all those years ago. As Mel has already explained to you, we have a plan at this facility to take advantage of the god given assets our women prisoners were given and with your knowledge you will be a big part of that. As Maggie listened, he could see she was not in agreement with what he was telling her. I can understand your hesitancy, but let me introduce you to what we can do in this area, and I believe by the end of our demonstration you will be fully in agreement to be on the helping side rather than on the receiving end in this area. He looked at Mel and told him to step out now and allow the first trained herdsman to step in and perform his duties. Chapter 10- The demonstration of new equipment As he left, another guy dressed in all white clothes walked into the front part of the milking stall, standing by myself and looking at Maggie. He said that he would assist her in today’s proceedings, and allow myself, Frank to explain what was about to happen. With that he stepped out of this area and came around behind the well secured Maggie with a large rubber bag full of a liquid, that had a long hose hanging below it with a strange nozzle on the end of that. Frank started to tell Maggie that she was to be “cleaned out” so that she could “completely enjoy” the rest of her experience’s today. With that the assistant put some lubricant on the nozzle and shoved it up poor Maggie’s back opening, after which he inflated several bulbs, one to the inside and the other on the outside of her back sphincter. Once that was done, he opened the valve allowing the water in the bag to slowly fill her colon and abdomen with this warm cleansing solution. While that was happening, he stepped up to the rail, and readied the breast pumping equipment, turning on the vacuum system that operated the breast pumping devices and reached under her chest to allow these to attach to each of her breasts. Immediately she could feel the pull of the suction as her nipples were extended into the deep center of these cups, the suction switching from breast to breast but slowly growing stronger as the system was programmed to start slowly and work up to a pre-determined cycle to extract milk from lactating breasts. As this was going on, the milk hand returned to the task of closing a valve on the now empty enema bag with the tube still within her body, starting a 15 minute timer to allow for a good cleansing. At this point, Frank again addressed Maggie and told her that the clean out was to allow the farm hands and animals to have their way with anyone that was either in need of some discipline, or in other cases of some pleasure, but that the latter would be determined by their cooperation in providing adequate milk supply daily, or by assisting in the process of that which is what Maggie was expected to do. Frank went on to explain that pleasure could be as simple as a vibrating dildo that could be positioned in the correct location while the milking was happening, or in more deserving cases, by one of the company bulls (prison guards not to be named) that had already signed up to provide these services, something which he suspected many of these inmates could only be dreaming of at this point as the guards on duty were strictly hands off the women when in their cells or in the bathrooms/ showers by themselves. And finally, he added that in the worst case, they have a special stall at the end of the parlor where they have a caged area on the backside so they can introduce the camp animals to a well scented persons orifice using urine from animals in heat as a scent for a particularly naughty lady, and the tracking male blood hound or the security male Doberman would certainly get excited to do some damage to a poor things openings if they had the chance. After this last suggestion was given time to register within Maggie, he could see the sigh of resignation in her face as she realized that she had to comply to the demands Frank was making. With this acknowledgement, Frank told the agent that was working with Maggie to allow the solution to exit her, but after clean up, move one of the vibrating dildos into place for the remaining 10 minutes of her scheduled milking as he was certain she needed some further assertion of what could happen to her is she did not cooperate fully. When the bulbs were deflated and the hose removed, a gush of disgusting waste was expelled from her back opening, which was soon washed away and down the drains in this area. Her back side was rinsed off as well, prior to the stand holding the pleasure device being slid into place, and a dido being slid up into her front opening. As it was turned on, it started to move in and out as well as turn, and this on top of the pressure being applied to her now swollen nipples soon had her coming to a strong climax that was prolonged due to her bondage leaving her worn out by the time this ordeal was finished. As this process played out, she felt the drug she was given begin to wear off as well, and started to fully realize the situation she found herself in, and understood that she had to do what was necessary to avoid what could happen to her in the future if she didn’t comply. Knowing that she was with a group of woman prison inmates, and in a very secluded and secure prison, she had no means of escape or avoiding these terrible punishments if she did not do her job. Chapter 11- Agreement to new job assignments. As she was released from her bondage by the agent working in the parlor, Mel returned to help her out of this area, to the dressing room area again to get dressed, and back to the clinic office. As mentioned, she was somewhat exhausted from her ordeal, had very sore breasts from the milking process she was exposed to, had a sore vagina as she was not used to this much stimulation, but very sullen thinking about what she had gotten herself into. Waiting for her in her clinic office was Frank, so Mel stepped out once he had her seated again behind her desk. Frank looked her directly in the eye, and asked her again if she was accepting of the job that he had planned for her, now that she understood the ramifications of it. She tried to avoid his eyes, but he kept telling her to keep looking at him. He could tell that she was scared of him now, but also afraid to disagree with anything he wanted her to do, and as such, she nodded her head and told him she would do as he asked her to do. With that behind them, Frank started to lay out his plans for the future of this operation. He explained that he wanted Maggie to help as many as possible of the inmates to start lactating, and convince them that they would be well rewarded if they could do so. He told her that he envisioned the lactating women to be given special dress, special foods, less other chores around the farm, and potentially sexual pleasure that could not be possible outside of the milking parlor. He also told Maggie that soon, another 25 or so inmates would arrive, and she should start to screen for a suitable inmate to help her in the clinic. He also told Maggie to make a list of supplies that she would need to accomplish her goals, and he would expedite the delivery of the same. He left her by telling her that he was going to keep a close eye on her, and any deviation from her responsibilities would be dealt with even more strongly than what she experienced today. As he was leaving, he added I will see you again tomorrow and want the list of supply’s ready to be processed. Chapter 12- Choosing an Assistant Maggie was tired from her ordeal, but pushed ahead with her planning. She thought about all the women she had seen already, and remembered one by the name of Sara that seemed to be well mannered, and of a similar age to her. She also seemed to have had a better education than most of the others, but was involved in an incident with her former lover that put her on the scene of a multiple homicide, and she was sent away for most of her remaining years as a result. She thought of what drugs and supplies she would need to bring these older ladies to lactation again, as well as what was needed as their breasts started to adopt to the changes needed. She was making a long list, when she felt herself leaking into her panties, something that she had experienced from time to time for a couple years now. Typically, she managed this with some pantie liners, but this time it seemed to be a bit more than usual, and she had to get up and go clean herself. She was surprised that she found not only a wet spot in the front of her cotton panties, but also a bit of a stain on the back, thinking that this was probably due to the rough treatment she had to endure in the milking parlor. With that in mind, she checked all the supplies in the clinic and found a small box of incontinence briefs, one of which she decided to use. She worked a few more hours on her list and retired for the night, to an often-disturbed sleep waking from bad dreams and very sore lady parts. As promised, Frank was at the clinic office early the next day. He asked her how she was feeling and how she did on her list of things she needed. She was not happy to tell him how she was feeling, but decided not to avoid the issue and get him unhappy with her on only her second day, so she said that she had been better, as she was very sore, and now wetting and soiling herself from the abuse he had given her. She went on to say that she would like to speak with an inmate named Sara as a possible helper, and mentioned that her list was getting fairly long but should be final within a day or so. Frank told her to keep it moving, and he would see to getting Sara back over for a follow up as a helper, which happened right after lunch. Maggie was happy with the response she got from Sara and Mel told her that he would assign her to this position the following day. Chapter 13- New helper’s duties Sara started as a clinic helper as indicated, and by lunch time was up to speed with some of her first duties, including the supply listing of needed products and drugs. Maggie had to tell her about the plans for the induced lactation of as many of the women here as possible, and Sara was happy that she had gotten this job, as she really didn’t want to be one of the others soon to be daily milk producers. As the day drew on, Frank stopped over in the afternoon, and was looking for the list of supplies. He had been thinking of what Maggie had told him a few days back about her leaking issues, and had come up with a vindictive way of making her suffer more as a result of her damage to his marriage. When he arrived at the clinic, he was told that the new assistant Sara was finalizing the listing, and so he took her aside into one of the rooms, and told her that he wanted incontinence supplies added to the list, as there may be a need for these products in the near future with the changes the inmates would be experiancing, and knew that eventually some of the women, especially the older ones would certainly need these. He also said he wanted some of these to be extra thick overnight type tape on diapers, and waterproof panties that could be secured on to prevent unauthorized removal as one of Sara’s first roles would be to keep Maggie in diapers as soon as the supplies arrived. When Sara asked why, he told her that she was having some difficulties and would not acknowledge these, but he wanted her to have to face up to it, so for the near future, she would be prevented from going without, and Sara would manage that for him. She agreed, and by the end of the day had a long list of supplies and drugs on Mel’s desk for acquisition. As the days went on, things started to fall into a pattern. Maggie was screening the gals again, looking for the best candidates to start on the lactation program shortly, and had picked 5 or 6 from the original lot as best choices. Within a week the first supplies ordered arrived, and Sara was taking care of unpacking them and putting them into storage. Chapter 14- Another change for Maggie As this was happening, Frank stopped into the clinic again, and told Maggie he needed a private word with her, so they moved into one of the exam rooms. He told her that he remembered what she told him about her leaking more after her abuse, and told her he now had a plan to resolve that. As he said this, he saw her face turn into a frown, but he continued by telling her that he was still upset with her for her part in his failed marriage, and now he had an idea of how she could be often reminded about how she took something away from him, as he was going to take something away from her! He was going to remove her continence-and she had to accept that. Of course, she said no way, but he simply went on to say we can do this the fast hard way, or the slow easy way, it is up to you. Either you accept the fact that you will be forced to wear and use diapers, or I can take you over to the parlor again, put you into the caged milk station, and have BART, the large male Doberman use your back door to the point you will no longer be able to hold your stools, accomplishing the same outcome. Maggie started to sob, and was pushed for a decision, which she agreed was to be the easy direction. Frank stepped out, and found Sara and told her it was time to start with the diapering of Maggie, who was waiting in the first exam room. When Sarra entered the exam room, Maggie was still sobbing a bit, and Sara tried to reassure her that this was in her best interest, and she would always be there to help her with her issues. Little did she know, that this treatment would be the cause of her more serious issues to come. Sara encouraged Maggie to help her get this done, and had her up on the exam table without her scrubs and panties soon enough. She was prepared with some rash cream and powder, and the very large adult diaper and lockable plastic panties. She told Maggie that she had not had much practice with this, as it was a long time ago that she helped with her niece, but it was like riding a bike-you never forget. So, after a bit of a start and stop, she had the rash cream on, a good deal of powder, and finally the diaper in place by the second try. As this was accomplished, she started to slip the plastic pants up Maggie’s legs, but told her to slip off the exam table and stand beside it so she could get these properly in place, which after a bit of adjustment, happened. When she moved behind her and pulled the chain out the back, locking it place with the small lock, Maggie finally realized how trapped she was in these diapers, and Sara told her that she could only do 3 changes daily, as per instructions from Frank about supply cost. She suggested first thing in the morning, where she could meet her in her suite so she could take a shower if needed, after lunch, and in the evening prior to bed. She also told her that she was told she had to get used to using these diapers, so no potty use between changes. As Maggie got her pants back on, now a lot tighter than before, Sara mentioned that maybe they should get her a bit larger set of scrubs, or a skirt so this was not so hard to manage. Chapter 15- Adapting to the diapers That afternoon seemed to go on forever for Maggie, as she did not have a chance to use the bathroom before being diapered by Sarra, and her morning and lunch coffee was starting to make its presence known. Sarra was in and out of her office and noticed her struggles, and suggested that she just let it happen, as it was inevitable. While Maggie had leaked in the past without any warnings, having to completely empty her bladder was another issue. By 4PM she was in pain, and after standing up once more, she lost the battle and flooded her diaper. While it was a relief, the warm wet feeling was something new that she was not comfortable with yet. As Sara was leaving about an hour later, she told Maggie she would stop back about 8;30 to help her get ready for bed, changing her afternoon diaper. Maggie told her that it was a long time yet to wait in an already wet diaper, but was again told that this was all about getting used to wearing and using these diapers! Shortly after Sara left, Frank stopped in to see Maggie again, so he could humiliate her some more, noticing the large bulge around her bottom. He told her she could think about all the times she told him he was not a good husband now as she stewed in her new padded panties! She certainly had a blush on her checks as she pleaded with him to reconsider her situation, and he just laughed and told her she had just started, and maybe after a week or two, she could ask him again but only if she started to accept this as her riotous punishment. So, her first afternoon in diapers was a real learning experience as things started to cool off and become more uncomfortable. She was able to make some dinner at her apartment, and managed to eat most of it, while she was waiting for Sara to come to change her prior to her going to bed. When Sara arrived, she was so happy to see her, but after Sara removed her diaper and found the contents to be very strong, she admonished her and suggested that she needed to drink more fluids, to keep her urine diluted. Of course, Maggie had stopped drinking water and coffee after being put into the diaper earlier, so this too was demoralizing to hear even as she should have realized this would happen. As Sara was about to leave, she advised Maggie that prior to her return in the morning, Maggie should take care of her other challenge as well, and poop her diaper prior to her morning change so she could clean up properly in the shower. As you can imagine, Maggie did not sleep very well that night. She did follow the advice that Sara left her with, and drank a lot of water prior to crawling into bed. She also went back to the clinic and found some Dulcolax laxative tablets to help her overcome her next challenge, prior to the following day. With all this occurring, she slept fitfully waking shortly after midnight needing to drain her bladder again, and by 5AM, she was feeling the effects of the laxative she had taken. Try as she might, she couldn’t make herself soil herself in her bed, and by 6;30 got up to lean over the side of the bed and allow nature to take its course. Chapter 16- A new day of adapting and learning to accommodate changes When Sara arrived at 7AM, she was one miserable lady, walking around with a loaded diaper, not wanting to sit in her mess. Sara had planned for this more difficult change, getting a choux pad from the clinic to use as a change mat, and placed it on the side of Maggie’s bed, telling her to come, sit and lay back so she could be changed. Of course, Maggie wanted nothing to do with sitting on her loaded diaper, but Sara simply said, fine than you can wait till lunch for your next change as I am not going to do this on the floor. At this point, Maggie reluctantly moved over to the bed, sat in her mess, and laid back to allow Sara to remove the messy diaper. As Sara did this, she told Maggie that in the evening, she would bring over some supplies and remove her long curly pubic patch, as it was not hygienic to have all this hair in this waste environment through the day, particularly when she poops herself. Maggie was very happy to get into her shower and feel clean again, but as expected, Sara was ready for her when she was dried off with a fresh diaper for the morning. The last thing Sara did was find a uniform skirt for Maggie to wear for her work day, as the scrub pants were too much of a hassle to manage in the size they had. This was to become the normal for the days that followed, and after a week or so, Maggie quit grumbling so much and just stopped complaining as it did little good, even as she was still very miserable. Sally had brought in a few new things to make this easier, as she found a used changing table on a web site, and also got a few proper diaper change pads to use avoiding using all the medical choux pads. One of the unexpected results of using the laxatives every night, was that Maggie started to poop during the day on occasion. She was told by Sara that there were no extra changes, and she had better figure out how to avoid these “accidents” as it was interfering with her clinic duties. On one of these occasions, Frank happened to stop into the clinic and noticed the foul smell coming from Maggie. As he was teasing her, she begged him to reconsider her situation, and he told her that they should step into an exam room where they could discuss this a bit further. When the door closed, he turned to her, lowered his pants to remove his member, and told her to make him happy if she wanted to discuss this further. As much as she hated to do it, she fell to her knees and started doing something she had never ever done, started to pleasure his organ. He had to help her by offering instructions, but after 15 minutes of so, there was a climax which he told her she had better learn to swallow as she was gagging and chocking. As he zipped up his pants, he left her kneeling on the floor in her nasty diaper, with the taste of his essence on her tongue, and told her to avoid washing out her mouth or drinking or eating anything until after her evening diaper change so she could remember why she had to have the diapers on, and quit complaining. She had to wait for dinner until Sara left for the night, and prior to was told by Sara who had done some research on the subject, to avoid the laxatives, and learn to poop her diaper with a solid formed movement as that would be much more manageable and easier for her to clean up! She added that if this led to constipation, then a nightly stool softener could be taken, but to avoid regular use of the laxatives. She also was told again to not cut back on the fluids, as her skin was starting to become affected, and lots of rash cream was used, after only using the wipes to clean her bottom up for the night. By morning time, again after a poor night of sleeping due to the beginnings of a substantial diaper rash, she was eagerly waiting for Sara to get her ready for her daily shower. As she had the poopy accident the prior afternoon, she was not able to poop her diaper that morning, and was concerned for the day. Chapter 17- The Busy normal As Sara was helping her after her shower, she came prepared with some medicated rash cream from the clinic and applied it on all the obvious spots. She again told her to drink lots of fluids, and if she could, hold off on her BM until late in the afternoon. As the rash cream was very helpful in relieving the itch that had developed, the day went along as well as could be expected. Over these first couple of weeks with Maggie adapting to her new wardrobe, things in the clinic were getting much busier, with Sara learning many new things working with Maggie, and Maggie working with all the inmates on a regular basis to start the lactation process. While the women were coming in weekly for meds that they were told were vitamins, but in fact special drugs to induce lactation, many of the woman were starting to notice tenderness and even swelling in their breasts, especially around their nipples. By the middle of the third week, some of the first group of women that had been taking their vitamins, were back into the clinic complaining about their nipples hurting, which prompted Maggie to prescribe a cream to be used several times a day. While it did relieve the itching, the swelling only continued with this extra medication being used helping to promote further breast growth. Sara had been expecting these women to start growing their older breasts again, and had already sourced out a selection of new and larger maternity bras, allowing for easy access to their breast areas for application of these creams and the use of nursing pads as they would soon be starting to leak, and especially after they were part of the regular pumping process for pre pumping dripping. Chapter 18- The first of the milk mammas It was decided that once these ladies were being regularly pumped to express milk, they would also get a new prison uniform, something that would stand out from the rest of the inmates, and allow them to get special privileges around the farm. The new uniform was actually going to be a special dress, with a bodice design large enough to contain their expanding breasts, that could be easily opened to expose their breasts for pumping, and a flowing skirt that could be easily lifted up and secured when in the milking stalls, so that it would not become messed up or hinder the activities that may happen while they were expressing their milk. Of course, as they came into the milking parlor, they would use the dressing room to remove their undergarments, something that would vary as time went on as well. Another point about the dress would be a different color patter to identify the women that became the best milk producers, as they would be catered to above all others around the farm. The group of inmates was continuing to expand, and by the 6th week after the first arrivals, the total was nearing 100 woman or about half the expected population for the farm. While many of the new arrivals were assigned to the regular tasks like cooking, laundry, and cleaning, some of the first group were about to start a new function, the real objective of the farm. By this point, Maggie had to tell some of the early bloomers, what exactly was happening with their bodies, that they would be lactating soon, and that this was the plan to produce mothers’ milk for use in milk banks around the country, and this was a contribution that they had to make to help fund this facility, and allow them to pay back a debt to society. Only a few of the woman in this first group became angry that they were being used like this, but after several sessions of counseling, and in a few cases, a level of pain as their breasts were already producing but were not being emptied, most were ready for the first trip to the milking parlor. Chapter 19- Setting an example for the new milk gals One of the inmates, #037 was most belligerent, so Maggie asked Mel to set up an introduction session, similar to what he had done to Maggie weeks ago, but considering this was a hardened criminal, to not go easy on her. Within a week, this inmate was brought over to the parlor between times when some of the first woman were being attended to, and forced into one of the stalls after being stripped by a couple of the guards in the dressing area, had the breast pumps attached and set to a very aggressive training cycle, had a large spicy enema administered, and when that was discharged, had several dildo machines set up to fill each of her openings. Her mouth was closed by a ball gag that was loose enough to allow her salvia to escape but large enough to limit her screams as this 90-minute session went on. By the time this session was over, we saw a very subdued inmate #037, but her session was not finished yet as she was brought back to the clinic to see Maggie, and was very agreeable to go into the lactation program on her return. But Maggie had one last punishment for her, hopefully as an example to others who choose to resist the program. She had her placed onto the exam table and restrained with her legs up in the stirrups, and proceeded to do a series of injections. The first set were placed around her breast, with extra amounts of hormones to spur large breast growth. The next injections were placed into her nipples, with drugs to stimulate very large and sensitive nipple development. The last injections were Botox around her urethra and anus to create incontinence, as the nerves were deadened in this area no longer allowing her to hold anything in. Sara helped this inmate off the table after putting her into the first of many diapers, told her of the daily allowance of only 3 diapers that she would have to get and take care of herself daily, and told her that she would be put onto a training cycle in the milking parlor even before her milk came in starting tomorrow. The once hardened convict, left the clinic as a different person knowing what her life would be like after that day. Looking forward 6 months, we see inmate #037 waddling around due to her ever-present massive diapers, supporting a very large 38F bosom, with very noticeable nipples always on high beam, and wearing the dress of one of the best milk producers on the farm. Chapter 20- The business is succeeding The milking parlor was becoming a very busy place as by 6 months, fully 70 of the women were there 3 times a day for their 20 minutes of pumping. Maggie had accepted her punishment by this time, and was doing a great job with her position. Sara was of course doing a very good job as well, earning her way out of the prison cells at night into one of the woman’s apartments, but still with the security collar of an inmate. Production levels were now at a point that shipments of cases of the 24-pint jars of this special milk were going out several times a week totaling almost 40 cases shipping each wk. The snacks allowed during this time were having the desired effect of maintaining milk production, and expanding the chests and rears of our milking mams. Scheduling for pumping was becoming difficult, but with Sara’s help and a new assistant added to help with inventory, things were running well. Only a few of the woman had achieved the high levels of best producers doing 2 or more pints per day, and these select gals were getting some regular attention from the “farm bulls” as well, so were a very happy bunch with a new attitude, with their expanded chests, nipples, and large butts that roamed around the facility and received good treatment from all, an inspiration to the new comers that were still sometimes a difficult hardened bunch of convicts. Chapter 21- Trouble in the group Of course, not all was without incident, as in the 7th month, the farm saw the first incident of an escape attempt. Inmate #053 was always resistant to direction, had been assigned to laundry from day one, was a rough and tough middle-aged dyke gal with almost no breast growth, and wanted nothing to do with any lactation process. At the first opportunity, she made an escape attempt, sneaking into the back of a laundry services truck that delivered bi-weekly to get past the gate, and at the first stop sign a mile down the road, jumped out of the truck to sneak off into the river bottom and try to get away. When her collar alerted security, she was leaving the gate, a group was immediately assembled, the laundry service contacted, but by the point, the inmate had already left the truck, so a search was launched. As was mentioned early in this story, the farm did have a blood hound, a large healer named MAX who was brought into the search. Getting a scent from the inmates sleeping quarters, Max was onto her scent soon as they crossed the intersection where she had left the truck. Within a couple of hours, she was in custody again, but this time taken to a different holding cell to await her punishment. When Frank was made aware of this development, he became very concerned about someone actually getting out and away and blowing the cover of this farm, so he wanted to make an example of this inmate for the others to see. He went to see Maggie to discuss this with her, and told her the punishment had to be hard, permanent, and a glaring example for the others to see on a regular basis. Frank suggested using the caged area in the milking parlor but wanted more than that as a lasting example. He said that it was only fitting that since Max was able to find her, that he should be able to claim her but that it had to be done so the hound accepted her as his, not a one-off case. Chapter 22- Lasting punishment, lasting example Maggie started to work out some scenarios, and remembered a sheath she heard about being used in reform schools for older girls that could not keep their hands out of their privates. It was a latex like material that covered their vagina which had a catheter inserted and routed out the back opening by the anus allowing the victim to defecate, and carry around a urine collection bag. It was important to contain all the urine, as it quickly dissolved this membrane sheath if it came in contact with. She found this material after an extensive web search, and also found something that could be used for dogs to give them extra stamina, typical to what Viagra did for men. In addition, she also found in an adult bondage store, an apparatus that when clamped on a person’s knees, would not allow them to do anything other than to crawl, as it kept the knees from becoming straight, but also had a couple of spreader bars as part of it, one for the knees, and a second for the hands which were also cuffed to that front bar. The best part, there was a connection between the two bars so the person could only crawl, moving one side forward followed by the other. What a great contraption to secure someone with that forced them to crawl like a dog with their backside always available! Now she had a plan, inmate #053 was to become the bitch of Max, beginning with her being put into one of these latex sheaths prior to being placed into the caged milking station. This would cover her vagina, and focus Max on her back opening for starters, which would be coated with the urine from a female dog(bitch) in heat to get his attention. Of course, as big as Max was and the method a male dog has to ensure his seed does its work by knotting his tool after insertion to exclude removal of it until the desire subsides, this would keep Max and his new bitch entertained for at least 30 minutes after he gets interested, and do a number on the poop chute of our inmate. The best is yet to come, as the other thing that had to happen was to create a bond between Max and his new bitch. Several things would help this to happen. First, after being placed into the milk station, a dog hide would be fixed to the back of our unlucky inmate, adding a new scent, and some protection to the front paws that Max had. The second thing was most interesting. When our inmate was secured, a nipple plug was secured into her mouth, and attached to it was a liter and half of water that was infused with more of the female dog scent. This would have to be swallowed to avoid chocking and would result in the inmate making urine with a unique scent within the hour, enough time for Max to finish his first deed, find the water and food bowl that was set to the side for him laced with the dog Viagra, and get ready for round two. By the time that our inmate had to pee, which dissolved the covering over her vagina and scented not only her front opening, but her legs and the floor, Max was ready for round two, and with the help of the drugs, he was certainly up to the task, finding this new opening, and going for well over 90 minutes before he was able to disengage. As a final effort, he raised his hind leg and marked well his new bitch, soaking the fur that was attached to our inmate. This was the act of bonding that was hoped for, as this dog hide would never be cleaned, and fitted with straps that could allow it to be removed to periodically clean up our inmate, but be attached again so she could stay with Max and be accepted as his new partner. She would be allowed out of the kennel where she stayed overnight with Max and had to do her business just like Max did on the edge of the confine. She was out for part of the day, so that the rest of the inmates could see her crawling around the prison, to and from the cafeteria where she would be given real food, but in dog dishes on the floor along with her liquids, eating and drinking only with her mouth as her hands were useless. Every couple of weeks or so, Maggie would ensure that her water dish had some of the “special” ingredients such that her urine told her buddy Max that she was in heat again and needed attention. The inmates always knew when these days were as Max was very protective of her, and she was very slow moving for the next day or two. To say Frank was very satisfied with this arrangement, was an understatement as all the inmates knew that they could be next in line for this treatment if they ever tried an escape again! Chapter 23- The new normal After this demonstration was observed by the inmate population, a sense of agreement to all tasks requested came over the group. The attitude of the convicts was starting to change for all, understanding what could happen if they didn’t comply. All things were now going smoothly, with new inmates being added over the next months, and quickly understanding what could happen if they did not go along with the wants of the administration of this facility. The cells were filling up fast, and new staff was also being added with some female guards put in place as well with the growing population. Of course, these ladies were well seasoned, and were happy to fit into this system, with such well-behaved women convicts to look after. As the ranks of the lactating women expanded, so did the milking parlor as it had to be expanded as well to deal with the volume. The output was so good that new money for expansion was easy to get, as the supply side of this location was doing so well. They were now shipping breast milk to most states to help with the milk banks. Maggie was adapting to her role very well, and never again begged to get out of her “punishment Panties” In fact, she knew that she could never get out of diapers again as her continence was completely gone after the first few months or so. She had learned how to deal with her issues, using charcoal pills and similar products to mask the smell of her stools, and had quickly adapted to making a dump of the mostly managed softer stool with the slightest indication of a need. She was still on a 3-diaper daily schedule, as were all the other women that had somehow developed a need for this extra protection. It seems that the diet being fed to these lactating women in addition to the convenience of simply taking a pee or doing a dump while being pumped three times a day was changing their ability to hold their waste in at other times, so many ended up in the same products that Maggie had been forced into initially as a punishment. Chapter 23- New directions Frank meanwhile was thinking about retirement, when he got a call from his old pal the Warden of the SE regional woman’s prison. It turns out that this effort was so successful that the Govt was hoping to set up a similar facility in the South West area and wanted Frank to move over to that region to manage that. An offer was made that he could not ignore, but he had one other issue to deal with prior to his agreement, that was to convince his former step mother Maggie to come with him. There were several reasons for this, not only her ability to oversee the medical needs of a woman’s prison destined to repeat the success of this first location, but also as she had accepted her punishment from Frank so well, he had finally forgiven her, and she was now actually filled another role for him. You see, Frank had married his wife, the daughter of Maggie when she was just out of high school at a young age, and Maggie had given birth to her daughter when she got pregnant with her as a teenager, so the age difference between Frank and Maggie was not that much. After several months in her diaper confinement, Maggie realized that she needed these and was able to take care of her changes on her own, freeing Sara up to do more of the day-to-day operations than she had ever done. About that time, it turns out that Maggie started to offer Frank some wifely services on a regular basis, and that in addition to her medical skills, allowed Frank to want to as well as need to take her with him to a new location, leaving Sara to continue to manage what they had build in the South East Sector. To be continued?

We welcome your comments and criticisms. Prologue: A young girl named Abigail will have to deal with her stepmother for six months Chapter 01: Abigail was a beautiful, intelligent girl with bright blonde hair and a clever look in her eyes. She lived with her family, including her stepmother Lilian, who was a strong and dominant businesswoman. Lilian was about to marry Abigail's father, Mike, a man who traveled a lot for his work. Despite having an initially friendly relationship with Lilian and enjoying the moments they spent together, Abigail had a secret that worried her. Ever since her mother left when she was little, Abigail had suffered from the problem of wetting the bed at night. Her father reassured her that it was just a passing phase, and Lilian also tried to be understanding, but deep down she considered her immature and discreetly called her "baby" because she still didn't have proper bladder control.All of Lilian's cruel actions were hidden from Mike, always away from his eyes. Abigail felt helpless and feared what would happen when her father wasn't around to protect her. One evening, during a family dinner, Mike made an announcement that would change the course of everyone's lives. He revealed that his company would be opening a branch in another country and that he would need to move for six months to manage this new venture. Abigail sank into her chair at what her father said, but also felt a certain relief, as she knew that her stepmother wouldn't be staying at the house during this period. Before Abigail could get up and leave the table, her father asked her to stay and announced something that left her even more astonished. He said that, as the wedding between him and Lilian was approaching, and considering the closeness between Abigail and her stepmother, Lilian could look after her during his absence. Abigail lost consciousness for a moment, unable to process what was happening. Still half-stunned by the shock of her father's announcement, Abigail was still dizzy when Lilian broke the silence and said: "You wanted to go to bed at that time, didn't you, Abigail? I'll take you." Abigail wanted to refuse, but some part of her, perhaps the fear of confronting Lilian, made her agree. "Yes, let's go," she said, holding out her hand to Lilian, who promptly took it. The two went up the stairs together, arriving at Abigail's room. The room still bore traces of the girl's childhood, even though she had long since outgrown that phase. Toys scattered around the room, walls painted in pastel colors and a small closet full of children's clothes gave the place an atmosphere that no longer matched Abigail's age. Lílian selected an outfit for Abigail, chosen from among the pieces she had bought months ago, clothes that were more reminiscent of a child's style. She picked out a light blue sweater with floral prints. Abigail allowed Lilian to help her put it on, feeling uncomfortable. After covering Abigail with the blanket, Lilian approached and said, with a tone of veiled threat: "Little one, I have a deal for you. If you wake up dry tomorrow, I won't do anything to you. But if you wake up wet, there will be changes in this house." Abigail, aware that this was her only chance of avoiding trouble, decided to accept the deal. With a little hesitation, she murmured: "Yes.”

This is a short, dark, verging on horror piece involving non-consensual kidnapping. Inspired by a recent self bondage experience. I hope you enjoy and would welcome any comments and feedback. AI supported writing. I lay there in the dim haze, my wrists and ankles pinned by soft but unyielding cuffs to the bars of this oversized crib, the fleecy fabric of whatever outfit he’d forced me into brushing against my fingertips and toes with every futile wriggle. It felt like some sort of footed pyjamas, complete with built-in padded mittens and booties, trapping my hands and feet in useless softness over the humiliating diaper beneath. My world had shrunk to this: a padded mattress cradling my immobilized body, the faint creak of the mobile dangling overhead, its pastel stars and moons twisting in lazy circles like some mocking constellation. Beyond that, the ceiling loomed, a blank expanse of shadow-speckled white, interrupted only by the occasional crack or stain that my eyes had mapped out a hundred times already—or was it a thousand? The curtains were drawn tight, sealing out any hint of the outside world, and the light switch—wherever it was—had been flipped off hours ago….. I think? My eyes had adjusted to the gloom, but everything I could see was framed through the raised walls of the crib—those unyielding bars he’d lifted into place as he tucked me in for “nap time,” bars too far for my cuffed limbs to reach or touch, a grid that distorted the room into segmented shadows. Through them, I glimpsed the hulking shapes of furniture: what looked like a rocking chair hunched in one corner; a rocking horse nearby, its painted eyes staring blankly into the void; a dresser in another corner with shelves holding indistinct objects—bottles? Toys? Something more sinister?—their forms teasing my vision without revealing secrets; the massive changing table lurking like a threat; and along one entire wall, a row of wardrobes with doors firmly closed, hiding whatever horrors or banalities lay within. But details blurred into nothingness, leaving me with nothing to do but stare, blink, and stare again. Boredom wasn’t the word—it was a suffocating void, an endless expanse of nothing that clawed at my sanity, heavier with each passing second that felt like an eternity. I tried to replay memories—my last vacation, the feel of sand between my toes—but the images faded into gray, repeating like a scratched record until they lost all color and joy, turning into just another layer of tedium. I counted the bars of the crib, over and over, but the number never changed, the exercise devolving into mechanical drudgery that mocked my efforts. I invented stories about the shadows on the ceiling, anthropomorphizing cracks into faces or maps, but they dissolved into absurdity, leaving me more exhausted and empty than before. Frustration mounted with each failed attempt to occupy my mind—why couldn’t I think of something new, something vivid? Why did every thought loop back to this crib, this room, this hellish inertia, amplifying the monotony until it felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest? It was as if my brain had been cuffed too, trapped in a cycle of futile mental fidgeting that only deepened the emptiness, making me ache for even the smallest stimulation—a book, a window, a fly buzzing by—anything to shatter the relentless sameness that gnawed at me like slow-dripping acid. The silence of the house amplified it all, a profound quiet I’d never noticed in my normal life, where the hum of traffic, the chatter of voices, the buzz of electronics formed a constant backdrop. Here, there was nothing—no TV droning in the background, no radio static, no murmur of conversation. Just the occasional settling groan of the building, like bones shifting in sleep, or the distant creak of pipes hidden in the walls. It pressed in on me, this absence of sound, making my own shallow breaths thunder in my ears. Every so often, I strained for hints of the world beyond: a faint dog bark that might have been real or imagined, the muffled pop of a car backfiring blocks away, or the light patter of rain against the window—too distant, too fleeting to offer any hope. They only teased, reminding me of freedom just out of reach, while I lay muffled and helpless, the boredom seeping deeper into my bones with each silent interval. The oversized pacifier strapped into my mouth made it worse, filling me so completely that I had no choice but to suck rhythmically at it, a humiliating reflex that kept saliva from pooling but silenced any cry for help. Attempts to yell came out as pathetic, muffled hums, vibrating uselessly against the rubber. Time had abandoned me entirely. No clock ticked in the room, no sliver of daylight peeked through the curtains to mark the sun’s progress. My phone, my watch—everything had been stripped away when he drugged me, along with my dignity, leaving me in this infantile getup. The last words he cooed in that sickeningly sweet voice echoed in my head: “It’s nap time, little one.” Nap time. How long did that mean? An hour? Half a day? I tried counting my breaths, but they blurred together, interrupted by the involuntary suck-suck of the pacifier. I sang songs in my head, but the lyrics frayed and repeated until they lost all meaning, the melodies flattening into monotonous drones that only heightened the boredom. I attempted to gauge time by the ache in my muscles or the mobile’s turns, but it was hopeless—each rotation felt eternal, yet maybe only seconds had passed, the repetition turning even this into a tedious ritual. Frustration boiled inside me, hot and impotent—why couldn’t I just know? Was it morning still, or had night fallen? Had minutes ticked by, or hours? The uncertainty clawed at me, worse than the restraints, turning every undefined moment into a torture of ambiguity. I raged inwardly at the blank ceiling, the indifferent shadows, begging for some sign—a shift in light, a sound from outside—but nothing came, leaving me adrift in a temporal fog that fueled the boredom into something sharper, more desperate, like a scream building in my chest that the pacifier smothered, only to echo back into the void of my mind. With nothing to distract me, my mind spiraled into the abyss. What did he have planned? The nursery setup screamed perversion—adult-sized everything, from the rocking horse to the wardrobes, designed for some twisted fantasy, complete with this sleeper and pacifier to reduce me to a doll. Would he come back to “play” with me, force more of that cloying milk down my throat past the pacifier? Or worse: undress me slowly, his hands exploring the fleecy barriers, breaking me piece by piece until I begged for it? Images flashed unbidden—knives glinting in the low light, endless “feedings” and “changes,” isolation turning me into a hollow shell. Maybe he’d sell me off, or keep me here forever, a forgotten pet in this padded prison, sucking eternally on this gag. And then the questions about rescue crept in, a fragile thread of hope twisted with dread: he’d grabbed me on a Sunday, right after brunch—how long before anyone noticed I was gone? My boss would expect me to log on first thing Monday morning for the team meeting; when I didn’t show, would she just assume I was sick, or ping HR after a few hours? My parents—I usually called them Sunday evenings; if I missed that, would they worry enough to text, or wait until midweek? Friends: Sarah might notice no response to our group chat about weekend plans, but she was always flaky herself—would she think I was just busy? And my apartment—how long before someone checked? The landlord if rent was late, but that was weeks away; maybe a neighbor hearing my cat meowing endlessly? The debates raged silently in my head, timelines branching into despair: a day? Two? What if no one connected the dots quickly enough? What if he covered his tracks, sent fake messages from my phone? But even these frantic musings wore thin, repeating like the mobile’s spin until they too became part of the boredom, stale and unresolving, draining any spark of urgency into numb resignation. Terror gripped my chest, each thought birthing a dozen more, darker and more vivid, until my heart hammered against my ribs—yet even the fear began to dull, looping endlessly without progression, feeding back into the insatiable maw of monotony. I tugged at the cuffs futilely, the minuscule give only fueling the panic, the mittens preventing even a scratch at the straps. What if he never came back? Starvation, dehydration—or what if he did, and that was worse? And if rescue came too late, would I even be me anymore? And then there was my body, betraying me inch by inch. My muscles screamed from the forced immobility, a dull ache blooming in my shoulders and hips where the cuffs held me splayed in this unnatural pose, the sleeper’s fabric chafing slightly with every twitch. At first, it was just a twinge, something I might ignore on a busy day, but here, with the void pressing in, it amplified into a constant throb, radiating down my limbs like fire ants marching under my skin. Worse still was my bladder, swelling with the two massive bottles of milk he’d forced me to guzzle before strapping in the pacifier. Warm and insistent, the pressure felt like a hot throbbing stone in my abdomen, impossible to ignore in this enforced idleness. I debated endlessly in my mind: hold on to my dignity, refuse to give in to this degradation, or surrender and wet myself like the toddler he wanted me to be? The thought repulsed me—years of adulthood, of control, clashing with the mounting discomfort. But the pressure grew relentless, a nagging pulse that drowned out even the terror, turning my thoughts into a loop of pros and cons: dignity versus relief, pride versus pain—yet another repetitive cycle that only underscored the boredom. Finally, the constant, uncomfortable fullness won out—I couldn’t bear it anymore. I tried to relax, to let go, but at first, nothing happened. Panic surged—all those years of potty training etched into my mind and body, a barrier I couldn’t breach. My muscles clenched involuntarily, the urge building to a frantic edge. Come on, I pleaded with myself, just do it. And then, a small trickle escaped, warm and shocking, quickly building into a flood as I forced relaxation. The urine streamed out, the warmth spreading across my skin as the diaper greedily sucked it up, but not fast enough—some ran down between my bum cheeks, pooling underneath me in a soggy puddle before the padding swelled and absorbed it. Humiliation burned hotter than the liquid, a fresh wave of shame crashing over me, mingling with fleeting relief that only heightened the overall torment. But as the warmth settled, I reflected—it didn’t feel as bad as I’d expected. Yes, it was utterly humiliating to think I’d wet myself like a child, but the diaper’s embrace wasn’t unpleasant; the swelling padding cradled me softly, no acrid smell seeped out, and the relief from that insistent pressure was a small mercy in this void. Yet that mercy was short-lived, the bladder discomfort simply replaced by the aches in my muscles, which clawed their way up my mental priority list in the absolute nothing that surrounded me. Those throbs in my shoulders, hips, and limbs demanded attention now, constant and unyielding, with no way to shift position or stretch—no option at all to relieve them, just endless awareness of their persistence amid the tedium. More time passed, how much I had no idea, the mobile’s endless twirl mocking my attempts to track it, each cycle blending into the next until the motion itself became a hypnotic bore. I tried closing my eyes, willing sleep to come as a distant promise of escape, but it eluded me; my mind whirred endlessly, a hamster wheel of recycled thoughts with nothing new to feed it, spinning faster in the boredom’s grip, generating heat but no progress, no relief. Eventually, a familiar twinge returned to my bladder—how was that even possible? I wondered, grasping at this as a crude hourglass. How long did it take to fill up again after emptying? Surely at least an hour since I’d wet myself if the urge was back already. Yes, he’d force-fed me those two massive bottles, so the liquid had to go somewhere, processing through my body like an unwelcome timer. But I’d never really noticed before how quickly—or slowly—it would build; in normal life, distractions masked it. Any relief I’d gained from wetting myself had only been temporary, a cruel joke in this timeless prison, where even bodily functions couldn’t puncture the overarching ennui. How much longer? The mobile turned, indifferently, as all I could do was wait.

Danny sat at her computer, chin on her hand, and watched the series of videos with growing boredom. "There is no way people think this is real," she said. "Yeah, it's obviously a bunch of actors" Alex replied. "I'm sure you could sign up if you wanted." Danny snorted. "As if. Seems more up your alley." "Nah I actually have a life. You know, like an adult. It's you who'd be sacrificing nothing." "#(@ off, sissy brat." The website was called "We all Saw It." It claimed to feature overly stuck up or elitest men and women being brought down a few pegs. In reality, it was mainly kink videos. The current video showed a woman on all fours in a dog cage, wearing a latex suit resembling a dog. A mountain of dog food was piled up in front of her as a timer ran out, and a leash that attached to a collar around his neck was pulling her toward it. "HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!" She screamed. A dark, corrupted voice came into the video. "No one is coming. No one is around for miles. You better start eating if you want out." She cried and sobbed no, but the leash only got tighter. Finally, her head was pulled into it, and she started eating. Each bite made her gag, and she cried more, but she kept eating. "So what's the gimmick here?" Alex asked. "She's been giving mind-altering drugs, with the cure spread through the food. If she doesn't eat it all before the time is up, her mind will collapse, and she'll become a permanent pet, like the other videos." They flipped through a second section of the site, where videos showed former 'failed competitors' dressed up as dogs and cats, being streamed 24/7 in their new lives. "So how do they do the 24/7 thing after? That can't be just actors." Danny shrugged. "I don't know. AI?" She flipped through them. "This work at all? For an idea? I don't remember you writing stuff like this before." Alex rolled his eyes. "I've done some, but not my main thing. More importantly, is it what you want, since you are the one with a free commission who couldn't decide for almost a year what you wanted. Don't you like the diaper stuff more?" Danny bit her lip. "Yeah." "So then maybe go to those for inspiration?" Alex rolled his eyes again. Danny went to a different page, with pictures of men and women in diapers. She clicked on one titled "Last lunch", with a picture of a high chair. The video began roughly as they all did, with the voice saying "I want to play a game." It then opened to a blond woman, seemingly asleep, sitting in a high chair. She was naked except for a diaper and a bib, and her hair was in pigtails. Beside her, a stream of comments was running. "LOL I love the diapered ones. Wonder what she did." "Wakey baby girl!" As she woke up, she looked around, then began to scream. She pushed and pulled at the high chair, but nothing gave way. The videos always began with a list of the contestants "crimes"- normally less "crime" in the legal sense and more "too big for your (now padded) britches" or "cheated on your spouse." Danny skipped this, and came on when the woman had calmed down. Much like the pet video, a pile of food dropped in front of her from a conveyor belt. In this case, it was a large bowl of mush, and several baby bottles filled with milk. "There is no way out of out our binds without breaking your own limbs. The only way out is to play. Are you willing to play?" She sniffed and nodded. "The food and milk in front of you is filled with a heavy laxative. To escape, you must eat it all before our timer runs out. The results in your diaper will be filmed and broadcast for the world to see, and links will be sent directly to those you have mocked and lorded over. "If you fail to finish it in time, you will be injected with a toxin that will render you permanently incontinent, and sent to live full time as the live in adult baby for one of our sponsors. Your life will consist of you crawling around, sucking pacifiers, and filling your diapers again and again for our fans. So what will it be? One quick humiliation, or a lifetime of it?" "No no no..." she sobbed, but the timer started in front of her for an hour. She looked down at the food, and began eating. The comments cheered her on. "Yes yes, fill those pamps you brat!" "She totally deserves it. I hope she messes for us and ends up as a baby anyway." "I wish she'd be MY baby!" "I wish my face was her chair when she does it lol" "Does that do it for you?" Alex asked. Danny blushed. "Well I uhhh umm I mean it's a bit gross obviously but uhh..." Alex sighed. "It's ok. It's far from the worst I've written. And honestly, if it is, I'd rather you just say it rather then keep me waiting." "Well... I don't know." Alex put his head in his hands. "I know. Most of my audience are little subbies like you who can't make decisions. That is why you are subs. It's just a tough business when I need you to actually pick something." "What?" Danny thought about it. "HEY! That's not..." "So you weren't considering a story where you are forced to mess a diaper?" Danny blushed deeper. "Welll..."" Alex shook his head. "Whatever. Just decide and let me know. I have to go, but don't want to be left on the hook for a free commission forever. Bye!" "Bye," Danny replied, and watched him leave. She then turned back to her video. Danny skipped ahead. The diapered and pig tailed woman was still eating, and at the same time, she squirmed and whimpered in her seat. "No no please not on camera no no PLEASE NOOO!!!" she shouted. Her body convulsed, and her bottom lifted. "YES YES YES" the comments responded, almost all at once. The microphones were sensitive, and tied directly to her seat. As she squirmed, the crinkling of her diaper came through loud on the speaker, then... "BRRAPPPT!" the sound was loud and clear, and there was no question what she was doing. She gasped and sobbed again as the back of her diaper inflated and sagged. The chat went wild with celebration, and the likes on the video jumped. The won screen stayed raised above her seat, flexing her legs and leaning over her food to keep from settling in her mess. She cried, and stopped eating. "Do you like that feeling? Do you like your messy diaper? Do you like knowing it was broadcast, with sound, to thousands of our viewers and will be left online forever?" "No," she sobbed and shook her head. "Then you better hurry. You have half your time left. If you don't want this to become your daily ritual, you better be a good baby, sit back down on your high chair and in your dirty diaper and finish your food. Otherwise, your new adoptive "parents" are eagerly waiting, and offering us money to end it now. She sighed, cringed, and sat back into her diaper. She went back to eating. Danny skipped ahead. Her diaper had inflated several times over, and was soaked brown. Her food was barely more then half gone. She skipped to the end. She was crying, and the leftover food was being taken away. Her diaper was overflowing, and it dripped down her leg. So, evidently, she had failed. A mechanical arm with a needle came onto screen and injected her, and she passed out. The chat had labelled her "CEO Potty Pants," supposedly referencing her past life of "crimes," and celebrated her failure. Danny switched to the next section. There was an entire page now titled "CEO Potty Pants." An image of her face crying and sucking a pacifier made up most of the page photo. It appeared she was bent over someone's lap, and her diaper rose behind her, with an arm holding a paddle over it. In her new life, she was getting paddled in a diaper over someone's lap. There were multiple videos. Highlights of her worse punishments and compilations of her messing, along with more narrative ones of her waking up to her new life and slowly being "trained" to accept it. Above it all, there was a larger video with a still running live stream. She was in a giant room, presumably, (and as was normal for these videos) in a mansion. In the livestream, she was sitting in a playpen pushing plastic shapes into a box. She was wearing full footed baby pajamas, was clearly thickly diapered, and sucked a pacifier. As Danny watched, she rose up, messed herself, and settled back down to her toys. No one was around her, and nothing forced her to be there. From the looks of it, if it was real, she had been completely trained into submission. Danny shook her head. She clicked at different points, going back days. If the videos were real, she was now permanently diapered and in baby clothing, being treated as she was dressed by a couple in a gigantic mansion. From the description, her new "parents" were "CEO Potty Pant's" former business competitors. Danny made a face of disgust. She went to comment. "So, we all know this is AI or something right? There is no way this is real." Immediately comments replied saying she didn't know what she was talking about, and she responded to some, saying they were falling for a lie. She flipped through the other videos. "No one is dumb enough to think this actually happened right? It's all actors and CGI.' More arguments. Danny doubled down, and kept commenting. "If you think that, you really must be dumb, or a liar." "No way. This would be totally illegal." "If you really think this is real, prove it." She paused. A note appeared at the top of her page, and she clicked on it. For all her comments, she got one thumb up. To her surprise, it was labelled "We All Saw It"- the maker of the videos. "I wonder what that could mean," she said, and closed the page. ... Her stomach was aching. Did she eat something? Perhaps her chair was tucked too far into her computer desk. With a start Danny realized she wasn't at her computer desk. More then that, her eyes were closed. She opened them, and saw that everything around her was dark. So, she must have been sleeping in bed. Except, she didn't feel like she was in bed. Actually, she didn't remember going to bed at all. She decided to roll over and turn on the light. "What?" She said. Something stopped her wrists from moving. "AND IT SEEMS OUR NEW CANDIDATE IS AWAKE! Hello Danny, we want to play a game." A loud voice said. "Before we begin, a word from our sponsors. Tired of misbehaved subs? Try "Decisionless Leashes and Chains" for full body control. They can't do anything wrong if they can't do anything at all. Now to begin." The lights came on, and Danny began screaming. She knew where she was. She had seen it a thousand times. It was supposed to be fake, a dark joke, a weird fantasy for people like her, filled with actors and actresses, but here it was. It was the same room from all her porn videos. There was no mistaking it. She was in the "We All Saw It" dungeon. Worse, she was the prisoner. "No no no non this can't be happening," She whined. She pulled at her wrists and ankles, but found they were locked in place, holding her bent over something. "Oh but it is Danny. It is. And if you don't play along, we'll be finding you a new permanent home." "NO PLEASE NO OOO!" she shouted. "This is insane I'm not really here! This is a dream!" She shouted, slamming her fists against the wood in front of her. WHACK! Something hit her backside with stunning force, and she screamed in pain. "Did you feel that?" "Yes!" she shouted. "So you know it's not a dream." "Yes but its fake! This was all fake! They were actors and actresses and it was just..." WHACK! "OW!" she sobbed. "Please no you can't do this to me." "Oh? You seemed fine when we did it to all those others" the voice replied. "Yes but they were..." she tried to think of a word. They had all committed crimes, had cheated on their partners, had lied and run businesses into the ground. "People who failed. I had a good job, I had friends, was dating, I don't belong here!" WHACK! Another smack, and another yelp. "And that is the exact arrogance that got you here. Ladies and gentlemen on the internet, please welcome our contestant Danny! This one is CERTAIN she is just FAR smarter than everyone else, so much so that she could see right through our videos! Now she has a chance to prove how smart she is in... OUR NEW CLASSROOM!" More lights came on. "Wha?" She asked. In the pause that followed, she tried for the first time to get stock of her surroundings. She was tied to what looked like a wooden desk. She was bent over, with her hands secured in front of her, and her ankles tied spread on the ground. There was a screen beside her, and she saw herself in it from multiple angles. "Noo..." she moaned. "Not like that..." The theme of the set-up was obvious. She was wearing a skimpy schoolgirl style uniform, the kind that existed more in costume stores then actual schools. There was a short plaid skirt over knee-high socks, black leather shoes, and a white button up with a tie. Her hair was in pigtails and tied with bows. Thanks to cameras behind and above her, she could see that her skirt was pinned up to expose frilled white kitten panties, narrow enough that most of her bright red ass was visible to the camera. Around her neck was a tight, pink collar- one the comment sections always rumored could control the victims, or, alternatively, had speakers to give instructions to the hired performers. They were exactly the sort of thing this site put the actresses- now she knew them to be victims- into, and she shuddered at the thought of countless online perverted strangers gawking at her backside and humiliating outfit. She was bent over a large teacher's desk with a wooden ruler raised up, which she assumed was the object that had been spanking her. From a camera above she could see that the desk was covered with "tests" marked with giant red "Fs." Each one described one of her "failures"- unsuccessful work programs, missed deadlines, and of course, incorrectly guessing that this was all fake. More desks with "Fs" on them lined up behind her In front of her was a chalkboard. Written on it were math problems, numbered one to fifty. She looked them up and down. All of them seemed simple. It began with multiplication with low numbers, 23x12, 207/3. From there they got simpler, with most of the rest being basic addition and subtraction. The last ones written were just 2+2 and 1+1.. Beside it, the comments were already pouring in. "Ohh I can't wait for this one! Such an arrogant brat, she earned it!" "I hope that behind is BRIGHT FUCKING RED by the end." "How dumb do you have to be there? Its literally basic math." "Think she'll end up in diapers like the others She looks like she belongs in them." "I think I know this girl. She is pretty dang dumb. Also, she stinks." So, the "game" was that she was a failed student being punished by a professor. Presumably, everything she did wrong would get her a spank. But then why were the questions so easy? "Yes, exactly like this Danny. As you are so convinced of your own intelligence, you will have a chance to prove it.

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

“Dylan James Marshall, get down here now, we need to leave before the store closes!” This time, I couldn’t even try to ignore my mom’s yelling, my high quality headphones did nothing to drown her out when she got to full volume. I quickly stopped and saved my game before shutting down my PC , where I had been holed up in front of for the last several hours, before exiting my bedroom. “Coming Mom, I just need to stop and” “You need to stop and nothing! I told you 20 minutes that we needed to leave, whatever you need to do you could have done then! I can’t help that you choose to hole yourself up in your room in front of that computer for hours on end drinking soda and eating junk food. Your family comes first and right now your family needs you to help with the shopping.” Begrudgingly, I plodded my way down the stairs and out to the driveway, resigning myself to the backseat of our SUV, having no desire to hear my mother preach to me “I don’t care if you are nearly 16, the safest place for children is still the backseat” for the thousandth time. I buckled in and lost myself in my phone for what would be a minimum 20m minute drive over ill repaired country roads to the local Co-Op mega complex of interconnected grocery store, lumber mart, pharmacy and general department store where you could wander between the various “departments” with the same cart and check out at any till you wanted. While I could admit that there was a certain genius to this set up, almost a Walmart on steroids, it created a building with what felt like a bajillion square feet where we could often spend hours wandering until we had everything we needed for our bi-monthly resupply trips. The trip felt like an eternity, jostling my bladder, the reason for my intended stop before leaving the house, with every bump leaving me absolutely antsy as we pulled into the parking lot. As we entered the store, I started to make a beeline to the washrooms, only to be grabbed by the collar by my mom. “Mom, I just need to go pee!” “Dylan, you are nearly 16 years old, you can hold it until we are done shopping, we have way to much to buy today and not enough time to do it all.” Now the thing you need to understand with mom is that the only time there is an argument is when she starts arguing with herself. I was well aware that at this point anything short of a disabling injury was going to change her mind, so I allowed myself to be led to the cart rack to grab one of the two oversized carts that would be needed to complete our trip. What ensued was well over an hour, probably two if I had really had the chance to check my phone for the time, of plodding down the aisles and between the departments with Mom stopping to peruse items with seemingly no agenda. Mom never seemed to need a list, but this also seemed to lead to her stopping and thinking a lot, despite the urgent timeline of our trip. We had just made our way back over to the grocery department and were approaching the end of an aisle as I turned back, distracted by what Mom was trying to say to me while still walking forward. My progress was disrupted by a sudden jolt and the handlebar of the cart jabbing into my midsection with extreme force as I unknowingly crashed into another patron crossing the end of the aisle. I started to stammer out an apology, only to freeze mid-sentence as I became aware of a very warm and wet feeling, rapidly expanding from my crotch and down the inseams of my jeans. It was all that I could do to look down and stare as my crotch and legs progressively darkened, quickly followed by a puddle of liquid forming on the floor. “Dylan, are you ok?” My trance was interrupted by Mom running up behind me. “Did you break something, I don’t want to have to pay for wasted merchanidse, wait a second...” In that moment, Mom’s hand grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around full circle, leaving my obviously wet crotch and legs fully exposed for her to see. “Dylan James! I can’t believe this, did you seriously just piss your pants in the grocery store? I mean, a night time accident, that wouldn’t surprise me, there is a reason we still have a fully waterproof cover on your mattress after all.” Ok, so quick rewind, backstory time here, ummm yeah, bed wetting, that was a thing until just after I turned 14. Pull Ups, or Goodnites or whatever you want to call those glorified versions of diapers were a part of my nightly routine. it took 3 months of being dry every single night before I was allowed out of them, but still over 1.5 years later and the mattress is still protected just in case. But a daytime wetting? I mean, that hadn’t happened since I was maybe 5 or 6, unless you counted the times that I was forced to wear a pull up on a long drive in case I fell asleep, and even then the last time I had wet was on a 4 hour drive to Grandma and Grandpa's the Christmas before I turned 14 and it had legitimately happened in my sleep. Now snap back to the present, here I was, standing in front of my Mom in the middle of a grocery store in clearly soaked jeans, a puddle of urine at my feet while she made no attempts to conceal her analysis of the events to anyone within a three aisle radius. “I, I just can’t believe this, of all the things to deal with today, i wouldn’t think that a pair of pissy pants would be on the list. Your brother is 8 and even if he was with us I would be astounded if I had to deal with this. Well come on now, we cant just stay here in the middle of the store now can we?” Now perhaps at this point you would think that we would just abandon our carts, head to the car and head for home, but no, that’s not how Mom rolls. I was marched (can you even say that while pushing a heaping grocery cart?) over to the clothing department, soaking jeans chafing all the way, and forced to stand there, doing my best to look invisible while mom sorted through the bargain shelves to find the cheapest pair of sweat pants that she could. Just as swiftly as we had entered clothing, we left with a new pair of sweats and socks piled on the cart. Once again we were headed back to the grocery side, presumably to use the tills there as they were closest to our car, only for Mom to make a sharp turn into an aisle. Now for those of you familiar, this aisle has a very distinctive scent, lightly floral and fragrant scents that are impregnated into it s products. One could be blind and still know that they are in the baby aisle. For those not blessed (as I perhaps wished in the moment) with blindness, you are greeted with one side of the aisle full of jars of various types of mush that is deemed nutritionally sufficient for infants, pacifiers, bibs, bottles and all of the accessories needed for infant care. The other, of course, is lined with diapers, bags and bags of diapers. No less than 5 brands of diapers, Huggies, Pampers, Luvs, store brand and eco friendly. A short distance down the aisle you will find the Pull Ups, or the “training underwear” for big kids if you will. And at the end of the aisle, you find the bed wetting pants, the nighttime underwear, whatever words you want to convince a kid over the age of 6 that they are not wearing a diaper. Goodnites and Ninjamas (terrible product for the record, first and only bag got tossed) and department store rip off brands. Needless to say, this was an aisle I had been down many times in my adolescence and one that I had no desire to ever re-enter. If you haven't ever had the displeasure of the experience, let me tell you that there is nothing quite like being the adolescent pushing the cart with the box with a smiling young adult on one side and the picture of the diaper on the other side sitting glaringly on top of your cart. The adults all smile, eyes perhaps glancing to the size indicated on the box, but they already know that they are for you. Needless to say, my protests were vociferous and immediate as we turned into the ailse. “Mom! Please! I don’t need Pull Ups anymore! It was just an accident, I already had to go and then the cart hit me hard. It won’t happen again, I swear!” “Relax honey, I know it was an accident and I promise it won’t happen again. And I know you don’t need Pull Ups any more, we are just here to get you some supplies to help me clean you up. I know you are upset, just take some deep breaths and we be done here, only one more stop and we can get you out of those icky jeans.” Looking back, I have to reflect and realize that my emotional distress in the moment most likely made me mentally numb or else I might have noticed that in addition to a mega sized pack of wipes that Mom had also grabbed a bottle of baby powder and a tub of diaper rash cream, but I think that in the moment, I was likely trying to keep my mental blinders on as we made out way down the aisle. I was so happy to be leaving the diaper aisle that I quite blindly followed Mom as we left the grocery department and wandered into the pharmacy. It took me a few seconds before I looked up and saw the sign labelled Incontinence above the aisle we were entering. Now maybe, perhaps the word wasn’t one in my vocabulary, but a glance at the shelves left nothing to the imagination. Now let me tell you, packages of baby diapers are meant to be cute, the Pull Ups have a 3 or 4 year old proudly displaying their “underwear”, and even the bed wetting products have a smiling pre-teen on the front, albeit no distinguishable bulge under their pyjamas or elasticized waistband peeking out over the top, much unlike real life. Now adult diapers, that is a different story, every package has a bold picture of whatever product it contains, right on the front. The colours are designed to appease the eye while flaunting the product. They have all sorts of fancy words to describe them, briefs, fitted protection, absorbent underwear, the list goes on, and not a one of which does a thing tom hide the fact that they are a diaper. The packages are large, bulky and indiscreet to say the least. “But Mom, you said that we weren’t getting Pull Ups and i didn’t need them.” “That’s right honey, i did say we didn’t need your bed wetting Pull Ups. Clearly those would never have held an accident like this.” “But it was just an accident, you said it yourself, it was one time, I don’t need Pull Ups.” “You are right, accident, and if it was just one it won’t happen again. But until we know that, we need to be safe, and you are right, you don’t need Pull Ups. Based on how big of a puddle you left on the floor we are going to need to switch you to some proper diapers until we know for sure. Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to have to ask the staff to go and clean up the accident that my nearly 16 year old son had on the floor?” “But mom, I don’t..” “Excuse me” I was cut short by a woman’s voice cutting into our conversation. “Do you two need some help?” I turned to see an extremely pretty woman, perhaps in her early twenties, standing just beyond Mom. “Well yes, i think we might, you see my son, well he seems to have had a bit of a relapse.” Her sideways glance down towards my crotch made the issue blatantly clear. “I think we need to look at putting him back into diapers until we can be sure this issue has cleared up.” “I see ma'am, clearly you don’t want any relapses or to have him running through stores in wet pants again. Now we have plenty of options that are just like underwear, he will be able to pull them on and off by himself, you won’t need to help him.” “No, I’m sorry, his Goodnites were barely keeping up with his bed wetting when he stopped last year, we had a few side leaks, i think for now I would prefer to have him in proper diapers, preferably plastic backed. If you had seen the size of the puddle that accompanied this pair of pants I am sure that you would understand.” “Absolutely ma’am, that isn’t a problem at all. With that being said, our diaper style products tend to have more selective sizing in comparison to the pull up products and i would highly recommend that we get some measurements to get the best fit, we wouldn’t ant any leaks after all.” “Oh absolutely, do you have a cloth tape to measure.” “Yes, indeed, but I’m afraid we need measurements without his jeans to be accurate, and I would assume his undergarments are equally as soaked as his pants. Would it be alright if we had him change into something dry before we take measurements?” “Oh absolutely, do you have a space we can use?” “Yes indeed, please follow me to the back.” With that, we were ushered through a door and into a side room for consultations that was set up similar to a doctor’s office including an examination table. Shelly, the pharmacy employee handed something to Mom and told her to just stick her head out the door when we were ready. I immediately started to stammer out some words but Mom cut me off before I could even start a true sentence. “Dylan, I don’t want to hear it. You have embarrassed me beyond belief today. No mother should have to stand in a phramacy with her nearly 16 year old son and ask for help picking out diapers for him. I know this is not what you want, but I am not the one who wet their pants in the middle of the store. We will be leaving here today with diapers for you, and if you can prove that you do not need them then we can discuss what your return to regular underwear will eventually look like, now strip! I wasn’t left with much choice, or any option for privacy for that matter so i quickly removed my sodden jeans and underwear before Mom could choose to take on the task for herself. That of course did not stop her from grabbing wipes from the pack she had somehow brought into the room with her, and vigorously wiping my thighs and crotch. She then grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall before grabbing my sodden clothes and dumping them into the garbage. “Mom, those were my good jeans!” “Were, until you pissed them, i am not washing that filth!” What came next was perhaps the biggest surprise, Mom turned around and grabbed something off of the counter and when she turned back she had a Pull Up stretched out in her hands, ready for me to step into. Except it was nothing like the Goodnites I had worn in somewhat recent history. Instead of a mundane pattern with a print designed to look like the seam on a pair of underwear, this had stars and race cars emblazoned across a white background. The shock of not being offered boxers or briefs aside, the garish design of the Pull Up was just too much. “Mom, there is no way, that looks like it is for a baby!” “Dylan, I don’t want to hear it, Sherry was nice enough to give this to us, I don’t think you suppose that they just keep spare underwear around for 15 year olds who have accidents now do you? I know your bed wetter diapers looked different, but this will have to do for now. Once Sherry helps get you measured for your diapers you can get dressed with the new sweats that I bought you.” Leaving no further room for discussion, Mom once again held out the Pull Up as i was forced to step into it and allow her to pull it up my legs, followed by a quick finger around the seams to make sure everything was seated right. She then called Sherry back in, who proceeded to take measurements of my waist, hips, and even around my legs, all the while making notes as i stood there clad in nothing but a childish Pull Up and tee shirt. After a few minutes she sat down at a computer and began entering information and reviewing what came up before she spoke. “Well ma’am, I can tell you that I am certainly glad we took the time to get measurements from your son today. Now unfortunately, Based in his measurements, the only products he would fit are the specialty youth sized versions from a couple of our brands of adult diapers, but we d not stock them, and the lead time on orders can be up to 6 weeks and availability of supply can be intermittent. With that being said, i never like to bring a problem without having a solution to offer as well. We do have an adolescent brand of products that is geared towards the special needs market. The sizing would fit your son exceptionally well, imagine if you will if the traditional brands of diapers went up to a size 10 or 11, in this case what you would consider the youth size 16 clothing. Now the only caveat here, is that with their design being towards the special needs market, these diapers do come with designs on the shells as opposed to the traditional white diaper with a wetness indicator strip that you would find on the adult market.” “That won’t be a problem at all, I don’t imagine that Dylan is going to be running around showing off his diapers to his friends any time soon, although I suppose if we can’t get past this issue that he might normalize them and try to flaunt like a pair of boxers, but I truly do hope that we son’t get to that point and this blows by in a month or two.” “Alright then, well if you can give me a minute or two, I will run to the back and grab you a bag and then you can feel free to give them a try on our champ here.” What ensued was 2 or maybe 5 minutes of me glaring at mom, sitting on a chair in my Pull Up clad bottom with my arms folded in rage. She chose not to engage me with any words, leaving me to stew in my own misery. The silence was broken by a quick knock and Sherry making her way back into the room with a large bag in her hands. Now remember how i said that baby diaper packages were cute and adult diapers were garish? Well let me tell you, they sure split the field right down the middle on this one. The bag had bright colours an a picture of a child clearly into their early teens smiling and sporting one of the diapers on the front. There was no mistaking what they were wearing, definitely not a pull up, a glistening plastic zone for the four tapes to land and cartoonish zoo animals all over the shell of the diaper. The back of the package was a giant image of one of the diapers with blobs of text with attached lines pointing out the various benefits of the diaper to the caregiver. I couldn’t believe what I was staring at, clearly I had died and gone to some version of hell. Now Sherry, she was as upbeat as could be and could barely contain herself as she opened the package and pulled out one of the diapers to give us the full product demonstration. “So as you can see, this diaper has a full plastic shell to prevent any leaks, it is a little noisier than cloth backed options, but this is top of the line. The front panel has an extra reinforced plastic landing zone for the tapes which helps to ensure that they stick extra good and wont rip with movement.” She then flipped the now unfolded diaper, which now seemed absolutely massive, around. “As you can see, we have the blue core zone here which is designed with ultra absorbency for where leaks happen the most and we have extra tall leak guards on the sides to make sure nothing escapes. Now I’m sure it will not be needed, but these also have an extra blow out guard along the top at the back here in case the unthinkable ever happens.” Flipping the diaper back around she continued on. “Now back to our tape landing zone here, you can see how there is a pattern with the monkey arms, that is so that you know where to stick the tapes every time. Maybe after enough practice our little star here will be able to learn how to change his own diapers and save mom some work.” Change my own diapers? Seriously, how deluded was this lady, i was sure Mom would make me wear them for a day, prove her “lesson” and i would be back to my regular life after keeping my pants (diaper) dry. “Now one more benefit of these diapers, is that similar tom our adult products, they do feature a wetness indicator so that you can tell when they need changed, but instead of a boring stripe, they have these absolutely cute little paw prints running down the middle. They are very similar to the stars on the pull up I gave you for the fitting they will fade away if Dylan here is wet and tell you how used his diaper really is making sure he is comfortable without you needing to waste diapers.” It was at that point that three sets of eyes, mine included, drifted down to the pull up i was currently wearing to look at the star wetness indicators, something I had not realized were present and that no other product i had worn before had featured. Except there was something wrong, there were two stars below the waistband, then what looked like a blurred half of a star and then a very distinct gap. I practically had to crane my neck to see where the next faded star started. I hadn’t felt anything, i mean sure I was zoning out at times and it had been well over an hour since my accident, but there was no way that I had wet myself without knowing was there? “So as you can see by the missing stars, when they fade away, the diaper has been used, just like the paw prints here. Now I was going to recommend that you try a diaper on Dylan to make sure it fit before you left anyways and now it seems obvious that a change is in order, so why don’t I step out and let you get him sorted. Just give me a holler when he is changed and I will come back and help you check the fit. If you could please toss his used diaper in this bin here it will help keep the smell down.” With that, she exited the room, leaving Mom with a huge diaper in her hand and me standing in an obviously used Pull Up. “Well, up onto the table with you, you can’t sit around in that wet thing all day. Clearly we need to make sure your new diapers will fit you.” “Ok Mom, I’m sorry, you win. I’ve learned my lesson, the joke is over, can I please have my boxers and pants now?” “Boxers, i didn’t buy any boxers, i didn’t see a point in buying anything to put over your diaper. Based on the fact that you couldn’t even keep that Pull Up dry for an hour or even be bothered to let me know that you needed the bathroom, my judgment was clearly not in error. Now get up on that table now before i make your butt so sore that you will be begging me for a diaper to sit on. Clearly I was out of choices, fearing any further repercussions, I scurried my scantily clad but up onto the table and laid back tom face the inevitable. Without missing a beat, Mom’s hand swiftly and effortlessly ripped the sides of the pull up apart, before pulling the front down leaving me exposed. Wwipes were quickly produced and used to wipe me clean before a sharp slap to my butt cheek indicated the need to raise my legs from the table. The massive, crinkling diaper was placed underneath of me before i lowered myself down and was swiftly followed by a cloud of baby powder, mom having somehow procured a bottle. She then pulled the front of the diaper up and in short order there was the scritching sound as the four diaper tapes were opened one by one and sealed down onto the landing zone. Satisfied with her work, Mom called for Sherry to return to the room while I was still laying on the table. Well ma’am, this looks to be an excellent job of diapering.” Without pausing, Sherry’s fingers found their way to the leg bands of my diaper and began to check for snugness. With a quick tap to the side of my leg she declared “allright slugger, just stand up for me and we will check the fit and you and your mom can be on your way.” I sat up slowly, and stood, amidst a cacophony of crinkling, forced to stare at myself in the mirror on the wall as I stood somewhat bowlegged from the bulk of the diaper. “Now this won’t do, do you see how much gap there is here at the waist? When he wets at night this will leak for sure, let me show you how to fix this.” Sherry the proceeded to undo the upper tapes on my diaper one at a time showing Mom how to angle them downwards and pull them tighter. When she was done she put her fingers inside the waistband and I could definitely tell that it was significantly tighter. “Allright now, if you two want to gather up your things, i can meet you out front and you can be on with your day.” With that she left the room, leaving us to ourselves. Mom handed the pair of sweatpants to me, which I pulled up only to realize that they stood no chance of coming up over the waist of my diaper and that my shirt barely reached down to their waistband while standing still. “Mom, I can’t leave like this!” “Well you can’t stay in here for ever, and you certainly can’t un-wet your pants, or the pull up you soaked for that matter, and we definitely need to leave today, so I suggest you get moving. You can take your bag of diapers with you too.” With no choice left, i walked out of the door, back into the main part of the pharmacy, carrying the massive bag and it’s 29 remaining diapers at my side, trying to hide it to no avail. Sherry, ever smiling was at the counter. “I can ring those up for you here if you would like.” “No thank you, we have two carts full to purchase, i am sure they can sell us Dylan’s diapers at the front till just as well as you can here. If you could though, would you grab me one more bag? I am not sure how many he might need in a day or how long this will last but I want to be sure before we try pull ups again. I think if he can make it through a whole bag staying dry, then he will be ready again.” “Surely, no problem, as good as these diapers are, i think you will find that he will use 4 or 5 per day if he is actively wetting. We can always sell by the case or arrange delivery if needed as well. We also have a night time absorbency if needed, they are significantly thicker though” “No, i think by the bag will suffice for now, maybe going up to the till with his diapers will help discourage this behaviour. I will keep the night time absorbency in mind though, he always was a heavy wetter.” With that Shelly disappeared into the back, leaving me anxiously holding the bag of diapers. It was all I could do but to stew in my own head while Mom occupied herself on her phone as customers walked by, giving me seemingly knowing sideways glances. Two bags of 30 diapers, well one with 29 given the one that I was wearing, how long did Mom intend to make me wear these? Clearly this was more than just an attempt at intimidation if she was spending that much, she was never one to waste money like that. Shelly had said 5 per day, I mean clearly I had no intent to use even one per day, but if Mom was going to force me then I would need to use them at some point. So if I were to get by with two per day that would mean I would be spending a whole month in diapers! Clearly this wasn't going to be ok, i needed to figure out a plan, one that would make Mom not want to keep me in diapers, but what? After an eternity, Shelly returned, another giant bag of diapers in hand as well two loose diapers which she promised Mom were free samples of the night time version just in case and we went on our way. With that the second bag was placed on top of my cart, with no room left, I was forced to carry the open bag of diapers in my hand while pushing the cart. The lineup took an eternity and the last items to go through were my diapers, the opened bag being quite obvious along with the wipes, powder and tag for my sweatpants. Mom simply looked from the cashier to me and declared that “we needed to deal with an accident”. I flushed beet red with embarrassment and did my best to hide my face in my shirt in shame. We made the trek out to the car, where I was forced to help load the groceries, knowing for certain that with every bend and movement that I was undoubtedly exposing my diaper to the world. It was somewhere during this last indignity that my lizard brain decided on how I could make Mom not want to keep me in diapers, the answer was quite beautifully simple. All I had to do was make her sick of me being in diapers, to not want to have to touch a diaper of mine again. So what did I do? As soon as she turned her back I dropped into a squat, squeezed with all of my might, and with all of the determination of a stubborn teen intent on winning a fight with a parent, i pushed all that was inside of me out into the seat of my diaper.

Description An introverted volcanologist, Olivia, stumbles across a demon during a hike up a volcano. The demon of humiliation follows her and makes her do embarrassing things such as wetting herself and messing herself. Chapter 1: Olivia’s Volcano Trek in Montserrat The heat was stifling, even through the thick protective suit Olivia wore. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she ascended the jagged slopes of the Soufrière Hills volcano. The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur, a constant reminder of the volatile power slumbering beneath her feet. Yet, the danger was intoxicating. Olivia thrived on the adrenaline, the thrill of exploring the raw, untamed heart of the earth. Montserrat’s landscape was a testament to the volcano’s might. Lush rainforest abruptly gave way to barren ash fields, scarred by the fury of past eruptions. Olivia’s boots crunched on the brittle ground as she navigated the desolate terrain, her eyes scanning the landscape for signs of activity. Her instruments beeped and whirred, recording every subtle tremor, every shift in temperature, every whisper of the volcano’s breath. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ash fields, Olivia decided to make camp for the night. She settled down in a small depression, shielded from the wind by a jagged outcrop of rock. As darkness fell, she huddled closer to the fire, the flickering flames providing a small haven of warmth in the chilling night air. Suddenly, a bone-chilling cold enveloped her. The fire sputtered and died, plunging her into darkness. A sinister presence seemed to fill the air, a silent menace that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Then, she saw it. A figure emerged from the shadows, its form shimmering and shifting like the flames of a dying fire. It was short and gaunt, with eyes that burned like embers. Olivia gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. The figure moved closer, its eyes fixed on her with a malevolent intensity. Olivia tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or even breathe. The figure reached out, its hand glowing with an eerie light. It touched her forehead, and a wave of icy cold washed over her. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the figure vanished, leaving Olivia trembling and alone in the darkness. The rest of the night was a blur. Olivia stumbled back to base camp at first light, her mind reeling with the terrifying encounter. She boarded the plane home in a daze, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of fear. But the horror wasn’t over. As the plane soared through the clouds, Olivia felt a cold sensation creeping up her legs. She tried to ignore it, but it grew stronger, more insistent. Finally, in a moment of mortifying humiliation, she realised she had wet herself. She rushed to the nearest bathroom with her bag, luckily she carried a extra set of clothes for if she spilt something on herself. She quickly got unclothed, cleaned herself and put on the fresh pair of clothes before quickly stuffing her bag with the soiled pants and panties along with her other clothes. As Olivia stepped off the plane onto British soil, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still being watched. The unseen presence that had tormented her on the volcano seemed to have followed her home. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that her ordeal was far from over. Chapter 2: Arriving Home The taxi pulled up to the curb, its engine sputtering into silence. Olivia stepped out onto the familiar pavement, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the volcanic heat she had recently escaped. She lugged her heavy suitcase up the path, her keys jingling in her trembling hand. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door and stepped into the comforting darkness of her home. The house was silent, save for the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Olivia flicked on the light switch, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She dragged her suitcase into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, exhaustion washing over her. But the unease that had settled in her gut on the plane refused to dissipate. A cold dread clung to her like a second skin, a constant reminder of the unseen presence that haunted her. With a sigh, Olivia pushed herself off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen, hoping a cup of tea would soothe her frayed nerves. As she entered the brightly lit room, her heart lurched. There, perched casually on the kitchen counter, was the demon. It hadn’t changed. It was still the same gaunt figure, with eyes that burned like coals. It watched her with a chilling intensity, a smirk playing on its lips. Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Surprised to see me?” the demon purred, her voice like the rasp of dry leaves. Chapter 3: Olivia’s Not So Welcoming Guest “Aw, did I scare you wittle Olivia? Make you wet your panties like a baby on the plane?” the demon sneered, its voice dripping with malice. “Don’t worry, it’s only going to get worse. Maybe you’ll need these to keep you dry.” It held up an adult diaper, its own grotesque face leering from the front, surrounded by erupting volcanoes. Olivia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and fury. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” She clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with defiance. “This is wrong. You can’t just invade my life and humiliate me. I won’t let you!” “Such anger,” the demon murmured, feigning concern. “Is it because you can’t control your bladder, or is there something else troubling you, dear? Perhaps I can help alleviate your distress… if you’re willing to cooperate.” Olivia gasped, her legs trembling as she realized she was wetting herself again. “Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you want from me? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, just please stop this!” A dark shadow fell over the demon’s face as it spoke. “You will obey me, Olivia. You will wear the diapers, and you will do so without complaint. Failure to comply will result in… consequences.” Its voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Olivia’s voice trembled despite her defiant words. “No, no, no!” she cried, backing away from the demon. “I won’t do it! I refuse! You can’t make me wear those… those things. I’m not a baby anymore!” “Well, well, well,” the demon drawled, its voice thick with sarcasm. “Looks like someone needs a little assistance with their wardrobe.” It snapped its fingers, and Olivia found herself clad in the demon’s personalized diaper. “Voila! A fashion statement fit for a queen… or should I say, a baby?” The demon chortled, revelling in Olivia’s mortification. Olivia’s body shook with rage and humiliation as she futilely tugged at the diaper. “This is wrong!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the house. “You can’t do this to me! I’m not your plaything! You have no right!” The diaper was not coming off of her. “This is just the beginning, Olivia,” the demon cackled, its voice filled with glee. “You will wear this diaper as a constant reminder of your helplessness. And when you’ve had enough, when you’re broken and begging for release, then you may grovel at my feet for a changing.” With a final, mocking bow, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia trapped in her degrading predicament wearing just a diaper and t-shirt. Chapter 4: On Purpose The moment the demon vanished, a burning thirst overtook Olivia. Her throat felt like parchment, her mouth a desert. She stumbled to the kitchen, diaper crinkling, her hands shaking as she filled glass after glass with water, gulping it down desperately. A wave of nausea followed, a sickening realization dawning upon her. This was the demon’s game. The thirst, the diaper – it was all a cruel ploy to break her. And with the amount of water she’d consumed, she knew she’d soon be wetting her diaper. Olivia’s stomach churned as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Damn it, she thought, her voice catching in her throat. She had to find a way to avoid soiling this diaper. A walk, maybe? Fresh air might clear her head. She waddled into the living room, the diaper’s plastic crinkling with each awkward step. Reaching the stairs, she gripped the banister, hauling herself up one agonizing step at a time. In her bedroom, she grabbed a pair of jeans, relief flooding her as she managed to pull them up over the bulky diaper. But as soon as the zipper closed, the denim vanished, leaving her exposed once more. “No!” she cried, a sob escaping her lips. They were her favorite jeans, a soft, worn reminder of simpler times. Now, she was trapped in this infernal diaper, a prisoner in her own home. The thought of venturing outside, of facing the world’s judgment with a demon’s face plastered across her backside, on a diaper of all things, was unbearable. Despair washed over her, threatening to drown her in its icy depths. She needed a distraction, something to anchor her to reality. Spotting her old colouring book on the shelf, she snatched it up. Flipping through the pages, her eyes landed on a familiar image: a volcano, its slopes bathed in fiery reds and oranges. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Volcanoes used to be her passion, her refuge. Now, they were a symbol of her torment. The volcano on the coloring page stared back at Olivia, a mocking reminder of her predicament. Crayons in hand, she tried to focus, but her thoughts kept returning to the demon’s taunting words and the humiliating diaper encasing her. Each rustle of the plastic felt like a brand, a constant reminder of her helplessness. Desperate for a distraction, she dumped out a jigsaw puzzle, hoping the intricate pieces would occupy her mind. For a while, it worked. But as the image of a tranquil meadow began to take shape, a familiar pressure built in her bladder. Olivia squirmed, squeezing her thighs together, her focus shattering. The potty dance she’d outgrown decades ago made a reappearance, a desperate attempt to hold back the inevitable. But the urge became unbearable, a searing pain radiating through her lower abdomen. With a defeated sigh, Olivia released a tiny trickle, hoping to relieve the pressure and stop after. But the floodgates opened, and a warm steady stream poured into the diaper, she was soaking the absorbent padding on purpose. The heat spread through her groin and to her bum, a mix of shame and a strange, forbidden thrill. It was a surrender, a perverse fulfilment of the demon’s twisted desire. Olivia stood over the jigsaw puzzle, the sodden diaper clinging to her skin, a warm, but cold reminder of her degradation. The stench of urine filled her nostrils, a wave of shame washing over her. She couldn’t stay like this, wallowing in her own filth. With renewed determination, she tugged at the diaper’s fastenings, her nails digging into the unyielding plastic. A desperate trip to the kitchen yielded a pair of scissors, but even those proved useless against the demon’s magic. Trapped, defeated, she sank to the floor, the wet diaper chilling her princess parts. Never in her life had she felt so violated, so utterly helpless. Yet, a flicker of defiance remained. She wouldn’t let this demon break her. Returning to the puzzle, she forced her mind to focus on the remaining pieces. As the final piece clicked into place, a triumphant smile briefly touched her lips, quickly replaced by a gnawing hunger. Her stomach rumbled, demanding attention. The diaper squished and crinkled unpleasantly with each step as she made her way back to the kitchen. Wrenching open the fridge, she grabbed the container of prune stew she’d prepared before her trip. She devoured it greedily, the sweetness a temporary comfort. Avocado toast followed, the familiar routine offering a semblance of normalcy in this bizarre, degrading situation. Chapter 5: Uh oh… Olivia pushed away her empty plate, a wave of nausea replacing her hunger. As if summoned by her discomfort, the demon reappeared, a fresh diaper dangling from its bony fingers. “Ready to admit defeat, little one?” its voice oozed with smug satisfaction. “All it takes is a simple plea. Just ask nicely, and I’ll grant you the sweet relief of a clean diaper.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but defiance hardened her voice. “I’ll never beg you for anything,” she retorted. “Get me out of this diaper, now!” The demon’s smile widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Oh, but you belong in it, don’t you, Olivia?” It gestured towards the dampness spreading across her thighs. “You’ve already proven that.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet the demon’s taunting eyes. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her. “And here’s a little secret,” the demon continued, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That prune stew you just devoured? It’s going to make you… well, let’s just say you’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later. See you bright and early tomorrow, Olivia.” With a final, mocking chuckle, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia frozen in horror. The implications of its words hit her like a thunderbolt. She’d wet the diaper, and now… now she was going to soil it. The thought was unbearable, a new level of degradation she hadn’t anticipated. “No,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible. But it was too late. The demon was gone, and Olivia was left alone to face the consequences of her actions, her stomach churning with dread, shame and stew. Panic rising in her throat, Olivia bolted from the kitchen, her sodden diaper slapping against her thighs. She needed a plan, a way to escape this humiliating fate. But the demon’s words echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of her powerlessness. “You’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later.” Her frantic search for a solution led her to the bathroom, where she frantically rummaged through drawers and cabinets. Toilet paper, sanitary pads, even a plunger—nothing seemed capable of staving off the inevitable. A wave of nausea swept over her, a visceral reaction to the thought of soiling herself in front of the demon. She collapsed onto the cold tile floor, tears welling in her eyes. Was this really happening? Was this her life now, at the mercy of a sadistic demon and a humiliating diaper? Time seemed to warp and stretch as Olivia sat huddled on the bathroom floor, her mind a whirlwind of panic and humiliation. The initial wave of nausea subsided, replaced by a dull ache in her lower abdomen. She knew what was coming, but the thought of succumbing to the demon’s twisted game filled her with a visceral revulsion. Minutes turned into an agonizing eternity. The pressure in her bowels intensified, each gurgle a symphony of impending doom. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her legs trembled with the effort of holding back. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers digging into her thighs, a desperate attempt to maintain control. But it was a losing battle. With a defeated groan, Olivia finally relented, her body betraying her resolve. A warm, viscous substance oozed into the diaper, a sickening contrast to the chill of her fear-soaked skin. The stench filled the small bathroom, a pungent reminder of what she just did in her diaper. She buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body. The demon had won, for now. But deep within her, a spark of defiance remained, a tiny ember refusing to be extinguished. Exhaustion finally claimed Olivia, her body collapsing onto the bed, the soiled diaper a heavy, shameful weight against her skin. Sleep came fitfully, plagued by nightmares of the demon’s leering face and the suffocating stench of her own waste. Each toss and turn was a reminder of her predicament, the diaper chafing against her raw skin, a constant source of discomfort and humiliation. She had succumbed to the demon’s twisted game, her own actions fuelling its cruel amusement. The weight of her shame was crushing, a dark cloud suffocating her spirit. Yet, even in the depths of her despair, a flicker of defiance refused to die. This was not the end, she vowed silently. She would find a way to break free, to reclaim her dignity and her life. Chapter 6: You got me begging… Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom. Olivia stirred, a groan escaping her lips as she tried to stretch her cramped limbs. But something was amiss, a sticky warmth clinging to her skin, a foul odor invading her nostrils. Memories of the previous night flooded back, and a wave of nausea washed over her. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” a voice purred, its honeyed sweetness a jarring contrast to the demon’s grotesque form. Olivia jumped as her eyes snapped open, her gaze colliding with the demon perched on the edge of her bed. It wore a sickeningly cheerful grin, its eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “How was your night? Did you sleep well?” Olivia recoiled, pulling the soiled diaper closer to her body, a futile attempt to shield herself from the demon’s scrutiny. “Go away,” she croaked, her voice raspy from sleep and shame. “Oh, come on now, don’t be like that,” the demon chided, its voice dripping with mock concern. “We have so much to discuss. After all, it’s a big day for you, isn’t it? Your first full day in diapers.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. “Leave me alone,” she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. She tried to sit up, but the diaper’s weight and the lingering nausea held her back. “Oh, come on, Olivia,” the demon coaxed, its voice dripping with false sympathy. “You can’t stay in that dirty diaper all day. It’s uncomfortable, unsanitary, and… well, frankly, it smells awful.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The demon was right, of course. She desperately needed a change, but the thought of begging for it, of submitting to its twisted game, made her stomach churn. The demon leaned closer, its breath hot against Olivia’s skin. “Just ask me nicely, Olivia. Say the words, and I’ll grant you relief.” A war raged within Olivia. Pride and defiance battled against the overwhelming urge for cleanliness and comfort. Finally, her resolve crumbled. “Please,” she choked out, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. “Please change me.” The demon recoiled, its grin twisting into a sneer. “That’s not how you ask for a favor, Olivia,” it chided, its voice sharp as a whip. “Where’s the gratitude? The humility? The desperate plea for my mercy?” Olivia’s cheeks burned with renewed shame. She swallowed hard, the words sticking in her throat like jagged shards of glass. “Please,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, master, would you be so kind as to change my diaper?” The demon cocked its head, studying her with a critical eye. “Better,” it conceded, “but not quite there yet. You need to sound more… pathetic. More desperate. More like the helpless creature you’ve become.” Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes, her voice thick with emotion as she spoke. “Master, I am nothing without you,” she choked out. “I beg of you, please grant me this small mercy. I am filthy and unworthy, but I plead for your kindness. Please change my diaper.” The demon’s smile returned, a predatory glint in its eyes. “That’s more like it,” it purred, snapping its fingers. A fresh diaper materialized in its hand, its design identical to the soiled one. “I like it when the new ones beg for diapers. Now, be a good girl and lie still.” Olivia obeyed, her body trembling as the demon slowly and deliberately changed her diaper, its touch lingeringly cold and impersonal. “Could have just clicked my fingers,” it purred, its voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “But where’s the fun in that? A snap of my fingers, and poof! No mess, no fuss. But where’s the entertainment in that? Seeing you squirm, begging for my help… now that’s truly delightful.” The demon chuckled, a sound like nails scraping down a chalkboard, and held the soiled diaper up, the stench assaulting Olivia’s nose with renewed intensity. A cruel grin spread across the demon’s face. “Well, well, well, look at the state of you. Seems like you made quite a mess last night, didn’t you, little one? Perhaps you underestimated your ability to hold it. Or maybe you reveled in the mess a little too much, making a game of it all. You naughty little girl.” Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to spill over. The demon’s words were like acid, burning away her last shreds of dignity. The demon cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. With practiced ease, it used a wet wipe to clean her princess parts and her bum, its touch rough and impersonal. “Hold still,” it commanded, its voice devoid of any warmth. Once Olivia was clean, the demon barked, “Legs up!” and waited impatiently for her to comply. With trembling hands, Olivia lifted her legs, offering a brief glimpse of her exposed bum. The demon wasted no time, swiftly sliding the fresh diaper underneath her. It then sprinkled a layer of baby powder over her princess parts and bum, the cool powder a stark contrast to the burning shame radiating from her core. Finally, with a flourish, the demon lifted the front over crotch and snapped the diaper tapes into place, securing it snugly around her waist. “There you go, all clean and… well, relatively fresh,” it sneered, sniffing the old soiled diaper in the air with exaggerated disgust. “But remember, Olivia,” it added, its voice dripping with false sympathy, “accidents happen to the best of us, especially when they’re wearing diapers like a little baby. And when those accidents happen, you’ll know exactly how to beg for my… assistance.” The demon’s grin widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. As it leaned in close, its breath reeking of sulfur, it whispered, “And make sure you beg well, because the consequences for disobedience are… unpleasant, to say the least.” With a final, lingering stroke of her cheek, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia alone with the lingering stench of shame from her soiled diaper next to her and the chilling realization that this was only the beginning of her torment. Chapter 7: The Demon’s Assistant Despite the lingering trauma of the demon’s touch, Olivia found herself oddly relieved to be in a fresh diaper. The clean, dry sensation against her skin was a stark contrast to the soiled diaper that now lay discarded on the floor, a tangible reminder of her humiliation. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, the emotional turmoil of the past hours taking its toll. She crawled back under her covers, the fresh diaper a small comfort amidst the chaos. Sleep came easier this time, her dreams less haunted by the demon’s menacing presence. As the morning sun streamed through her window, Olivia woke with a renewed sense of determination. She wouldn’t let the demon control her life. She would find a way to break free from this twisted game, to reclaim her dignity and independence. A loud knocking at the door startled her, interrupting her thoughts. Could it be the demon again, so soon? She cautiously approached the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Olivia cautiously cracked open the front door, shielding her diaper-clad body from view. “Package for Olivia Parker?” a cheerful voice chirped. “Yes, thank you,” Olivia mumbled, snatching the box and swiftly closing the door. A wave of relief washed over her. Just some LED lights she’d ordered before her disastrous trip. A perfect distraction from her current predicament. Parcel tucked under her arm, she turned towards the stairs, only to be halted by another insistent knock. With a frustrated sigh, she set the box down and yanked open the door. “Lucille,” a woman declared, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, “the Demon’s assistant. I’ll be coming in now.” Before Olivia could protest, the woman swept past her, her movements a whirlwind of chiffon and perfume. “Excuse me!” Olivia sputtered, indignation rising in her throat. But her protest was cut short as the woman—Lucille—snapped her fingers. In a flash, a bright pink pacifier appeared in Olivia’s mouth, silencing her. She gagged, her fingers clawing at the plastic, but to no avail. The more she struggled, the tighter her mouth clamped around the pacifier, her own body betraying her. Humiliation flooded her as she realized she was now not only trapped in a diaper but also reduced to an infantile state with the pacifier. Lucille surveyed Olivia with a critical eye, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Well, well, well,” she drawled, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. “Looks like someone’s been a naughty girl. Didn’t your master teach you any manners?” Olivia glared at her through the pacifier, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She tried to speak, but the pacifier rendered her words into muffled, infantile gurgles. Lucille chuckled, a sound like wind chimes laced with venom. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head with a manicured hand. “I’m here to help you adjust to your new… lifestyle. The Demon has big plans for you, and I’m here to ensure you’re properly prepared.” She snapped her fingers again, and a mountain of baby supplies materialized in the middle of the living room: stacks of diapers, bottles filled with a milky liquid, jars of pureed food, and an assortment of pastel-colored toys. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as Lucille began unpacking the items, her movements efficient and practiced. “Now, now, don’t look so glum,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “This is just the beginning. You’re going to have so much fun with all these new toys, aren’t you, sweetie?” She picked up a rattle shaped like a volcano, shaking it enticingly in front of Olivia’s face. Olivia recoiled, her disgust evident even through the pacifier. This was a nightmare, a grotesque mockery of her life. But as Lucille continued to unpack the supplies, a chilling realization dawned on her. This wasn’t a temporary punishment; this was the demon’s vision for her future. A future filled with diapers, baby formula, baby food, and the constant presence of Lucille. Lucille perched herself on the arm of the sofa, her gaze fixed on Olivia like a scientist observing a lab specimen. “Now, Olivia, darling,” she began, her voice a sickeningly sweet melody, “let’s talk about our new arrangement.” Olivia, still struggling fruitlessly against the pacifier, let out a muffled growl of frustration. “Oh, hush now, there’s no need for that,” Lucille chided, her tone saccharine but her eyes cold. “I’m here to help you, after all.” She leaned forward, her words dripping with condescension. “From now on, I’ll be your… caregiver, shall we say? I’ll be in charge of all your needs – feeding, changing, playtime, even bath time.” A sly smile curled on her lips. “And of course, discipline when necessary. Maybe even rewards! However, the Demon expects complete obedience, you understand?” Olivia’s eyes widened in horror. This was worse than she could have imagined. Lucille, with her patronizing tone and condescending touch, was to be her constant companion, her jailer in this infantile prison. “Don’t worry, darling,” Lucille cooed, misinterpreting Olivia’s silence. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love your new life, with all its simple pleasures and childish delights.” She picked up a teddy bear from the pile of baby supplies, its beady eyes seeming to mock Olivia’s despair. Olivia shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. This was not her life, not who she was. She was a scientist, a volcanologist, a woman with a career and a future. But the pacifier in her mouth prevented any protest, any plea for reason. All she could do was watch helplessly as Lucille laid out the grim reality of her new, demeaning existence. Lucille reached out a manicured hand, her fingers pinching the pacifier between Olivia’s lips. With a swift tug, she removed it, a triumphant smirk on her face. “There now,” she purred. “Don’t you feel better already?” Olivia gasped, her lungs filling with air from her mouth for the first time in what felt like hours. “You can’t do this!” she cried, her voice hoarse with emotion. “This is wrong! It’s insane!” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Insane? Perhaps. But it’s also the Demon’s will, and as his humble servant, I’m merely following orders. Besides,” she added, her voice dripping with condescension, “you seem to be adjusting quite well already. Look at you, in your pretty little diaper, sucking on your pacifier like a good girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but anger fuelled her defiance. “I’m not a baby! I’m a grown woman, a scientist! This is degrading and humiliating!” Lucille shrugged, her expression nonchalant. “Oh, darling, we all have our roles to play in this grand cosmic drama. Yours just happens to be a bit more… infantile. But don’t worry, you’ll soon learn to embrace your new identity. And who knows,” she added with a wink, “you might even find that you enjoy it.” Olivia’s stomach churned with disgust. The thought of finding any pleasure in this twisted situation was abhorrent. But as she met Lucille’s gaze, a cold fear settled in her heart. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that this was just the beginning of her ordeal. The demon and its assistant had a plan for her, and she knew now that she was powerless to stop them. A sudden warmth spread through Olivia’s diaper, the familiar sensation of wetness bringing a fresh wave of humiliation. She looked up at Lucille, who wore a triumphant smirk, confirming Olivia’s worst fears. “See?” Lucille purred, her voice a chilling melody. “You can’t control it anymore, darling. One minute you’ll be playing with your toys, the next… whoops! A little accident. Such a shame for a grown woman, wouldn’t you agree?” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “But don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll get used to the constant wetness, the never-ending cycle of shame and dependency. Welcome to your new life, Olivia. It’s going to be a messy one, now that’s for sure.” The demon chuckles at her humiliation. Chapter 8: Who’s Humiliation? Yourmiliation. Olivia’s cheeks burned as the warmth spread through her diaper, a mixture of shame and anger coursing through her veins. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the pacifier quickly appeared in her mouth stifling any protest. Her eyes, filled with a mix of defiance and despair, locked onto Lucille’s mocking gaze. Lucille, sensing Olivia’s inner turmoil, continued her cruel taunts. “Oh, don’t be so glum, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head condescendingly. “It’s only pee, after all. It’s a natural bodily function, even for big girls like you. But now, you’ll have to rely on me, your ever-so-capable assistant, to clean up your little messes. How thrilling!” A wicked gleam entered Lucille’s eyes as she reached for a diaper bag overflowing with supplies. “Don’t worry, though,” she chirped, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “I’ve brought everything we need to keep you nice and dry. After all, we wouldn’t want your pretty little bottom getting sore, would we?” She paused, a sly smile spreading across her face. “But first, let’s see how well you can crawl. Maybe a little spanking will motivate you? A nice, firm reminder of the consequences for disobeying your new caretaker.” She tauntingly said as a menacing paddle appeared in her hand. The thought of being spanked like a child sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. She had always been fiercely independent, a woman who commanded respect in her field. Now, reduced to a crawling infant, she was at the mercy of this sadistic caretaker. With a heavy heart, she obeyed, lowering herself onto her hands and knees. The crinkling of the wet diaper against her skin was a constant reminder of her humiliation. “That’s a good girl,” Lucille praised, her voice laced with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Now crawl, Olivia. Show me how eager you are to please.” The assistant pointed towards a pile of diapers at the other end of the room, a wicked glint in her eye. Olivia, fuelled by a mix of shame and defiance, began to crawl, pacifier in mouth. Each movement rocked her wet diaper back and fourth against her princess parts, she felt herself getting hot and bothered. She wanted to reach inside of her diaper and touch herself, but she shook her head and gritted her teeth, focusing on the pile of diapers, a beacon of hope in this degrading ordeal. With each agonizing inch, she prayed for the strength to endure this humiliation, clinging to the belief that she would find a way to break free from this twisted game before she actually started to enjoy it. Lucille watched Olivia’s progress with a predatory grin. “Not bad, darling,” she purred. “But you could be faster. Remember, the quicker you get there, the quicker you’ll be out of that soggy mess.” Olivia’s muscles burned with exertion, but she pushed herself onward. The diaper, heavy with urine, rubbed against her sensitive skin, a constant reminder of her helplessness. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against the edge of a diaper package, a spark of hope igniting within her. But just as she was about to grasp it, Lucille’s foot came down on top of the package, pinning it to the floor. Olivia looked up, her eyes pleading for mercy, but Lucille only laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the room. “Not so fast, little one,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You haven’t earned your reward yet. A few more laps should do the trick.” She felt her heart flutter as well as her princess parts as she turned around. Olivia whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. She was exhausted, humiliated, and desperate for relief from the sodden diaper clinging to her skin. The smell of urine was overwhelming, filling her nostrils with each ragged breath. Lucille, however, seemed to revel in Olivia’s discomfort. “Aww, is the little baby feeling icky?” she cooed, her voice a sickening blend of mockery and amusement. “Did the naughty girl have an accident? Don’t worry, darling, a few more laps and you’ll be rewarded with a nice, fresh diaper. Or maybe you enjoy the feeling of that warm wetness against your skin?” Olivia’s face burned with shame and curiosity. Did Lucille know she was getting turned on? But she refused to give Lucille the satisfaction of seeing her cry. With a defiant snarl, she resumed her crawl, the soggy diaper squishing and rubbing against her parts more and more with every movement. Olivia let out a little moan as she crawled. As Olivia continued her humiliating crawl, a strange sensation began to emerge from the discomfort. The constant friction of the diaper against her sensitive skin, initially a source of irritation, was now sparking a warmth that spread through her lower body. Each movement, each shift of her hips, ignited a flicker of pleasure she hadn’t anticipated. A wave of confusion washed over her. She was disgusted by the situation, mortified by her own incontinence, yet her body was betraying her, responding to the forbidden stimulation with a growing warmth. She tried to suppress the feeling, to focus on the anger and humiliation, but the pleasure was insistent, a siren song luring her towards a dangerous precipice. Lucille, ever observant, noticed the subtle change in Olivia’s demeanor. A knowing smirk spread across her face. “Oh, I see,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone’s starting to enjoy herself. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little one.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace the sensation, darling. It’s only going to get better from here. Crawl faster!” The demon’s assistant clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the silent house. “Well, well, well,” she chirped, her voice dripping with feigned delight. “Looks like someone’s finally getting the hang of this. But we can’t have you dilly-dallying now, can we, darling? Pick up the pace! Your reward awaits, but only for those who earn it.” Olivia, caught between mortification and a growing sense of arousal, obeyed. She quickened her pace, her hands and knees hitting the floor with rhythmic thuds. The diaper, now saturated, clung to her like a second skin, the friction against her most intimate areas intensifying with each movement. She gritted her teeth, a low moan escaping her lips as the pleasure became almost unbearable. Lucille’s laughter filled the room, a cruel melody that fueled Olivia’s growing shame. “That’s it, darling,” she encouraged, her voice laced with a sadistic glee. “Crawl for me. Crawl like the good little baby you are. The faster you go, the sooner you’ll be rewarded. But remember,” she added with a menacing edge, “if you stop, the punishment will be severe.” Driven by a potent cocktail of humiliation, desperation, and a dark, forbidden pleasure, Olivia surged forward, her limbs moving faster than she thought possible. The room blurred around her, the only focus the pile of diapers looming closer with each frantic crawl. A tingling sensation built within her, a familiar pressure that she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, she reached the pile, collapsing onto the soft, absorbent mound. The dam finally broke, and a torrent of warm liquid flooded her diaper, she sucked on her pacifier harder as she squirted into the pee-soaked diaper closing her eyes with pleasure. A shudder wracked her body, a mix of shame and undeniable relief. She had lost control, given in to the demon’s twisted game, yet a part of her revelled in the orgasm she just had in her pissy diaper. Lucille clapped her hands, her laughter echoing through the room. “Bravo, Olivia!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such a good girl. Now, wasn’t that so much better than holding it in?” She leaned down, her face inches from Olivia’s, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “But remember, darling, this is just the beginning. There are so many more ways for you to please me. So many more messes for you to make.” Lucille pressed her hand against Olivia’s diaper, rubbing it firmly through the wet fabric. “And we’ll have a lot of fun cleaning them up together. Won’t we, little one?” Lucille, sensing Olivia’s heightened vulnerability, plucked the pacifier from her mouth with a triumphant flourish. “Well, well, well,” she cooed, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Someone seems to be enjoying her new reality. Tell me, Olivia, are you ready to be a good little girl and obey my every command?” Olivia, still flushed with pleasure and shame, nodded eagerly, her voice a high-pitched squeak. “Yes, yes!” she chirped, her words barely coherent. “I’ll be good, I promise!” Lucille chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’m sure you will, darling,” she purred. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” With practiced efficiency, Lucille peeled away the soiled diaper, a wave of embarrassment washing over Olivia as the stench filled the air. The demon’s assistant tutted disapprovingly, her eyes narrowing in disgust. “Someone’s been a messy little girl,” she scolded, her voice laced with sarcasm. Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame. The brief moment of pleasure had evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of humiliation and self-loathing. Disgusting. How could she have let herself get to that point? The smell of her own waste filled her nostrils, a constant reminder of her degradation. She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of the overflowing diaper a horrifying tableau burned into her mind. Had she really just gotten off on crawling around like a baby, whimpering for a diaper change? Shame radiated from her core, a sickening heat that threatened to consume her whole. But beneath the shame, a flicker of something else remained – a morbid curiosity, a twisted echo of the pleasure she had experienced. It was a terrifying realization, a seed of darkness planted in her mind by Lucille’s cruel game. The touch of the wet wipes against her skin snapped Olivia out of her momentary haze. Reality crashed back in, a harsh wave of disgust and despair. She gritted her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. This wasn’t her, this wasn’t who she was. But as Lucille fastened a fresh diaper around her waist, the crinkling of the plastic a stark reminder of her new reality, Olivia knew she was trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight. Chapter 9: Playing With Teddy The clean diaper did nothing to alleviate Olivia’s despair. The crinkling plastic only amplified her humiliation, a constant reminder of her infantilized state. As Lucille stepped back to admire her handiwork, Olivia’s mind raced, searching for a way out of this twisted game. “There,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “All clean and dry, just like a little baby.” She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Olivia’s face. “But you don’t seem very happy about it, darling. Is something wrong?” Olivia glared at her, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She wanted to scream, to curse, to lash out, but the pacifier in her mouth stifled any sound. Her only response was a defiant shake of her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Lucille’s smile faltered, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Oh, come now, Olivia,” she chided, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Don’t be difficult. We have so much fun planned for you today.” She gestured towards a pile of colorful clothes on the bed, a collection of frilly dresses and oversized t-shirts adorned with cartoon characters. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as she recognized the outfits. They were the epitome of childishness, the kind of clothes she hadn’t worn since she was a toddler. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her as she realized what Lucille had in store. “Now, darling,” Lucille purred, picking up a particularly garish pink dress with a matching bonnet. “Let’s get you dressed for the day. It’s time for you to embrace your new role, Olivia. The role of a sweet, innocent little girl.” Olivia shook her head violently, the pacifier bobbing against her lips as she let out a muffled protest. She would not wear those ridiculous clothes. She would not be reduced to a caricature of childhood innocence. Lucille’s patience was wearing thin. “Olivia,” she warned, her voice laced with steel. “Don’t make this difficult. Put on the dress, or I’ll have to find other ways to persuade you.” Olivia’s defiance wavered. She knew Lucille was capable of cruelty, of finding new and inventive ways to humiliate her. But the thought of parading around in those childish clothes was almost too much to bear. “Fine,” she mumbled through the pacifier, her voice barely audible. “I’ll wear the dress.” A triumphant smile spread across Lucille’s face. “That’s a good girl,” she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. “Now, let’s get you dressed and ready for playtime.” Olivia stood there, her head bowed in shame as Lucille helped her into the frilly pink dress. The fabric felt cheap and scratchy against her skin, a stark contrast to the comfortable clothes she was used to wearing. The bonnet, with its ridiculous oversized bow, was the final indignity. She felt like a clown, a mockery of her former self. As Lucille led Olivia towards the playpen, the plastic structure loomed before her like a miniature prison. The brightly colored bars mocked her with their childish cheerfulness, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile feeling that emanated from the interior. Inside, a collection of baby toys lay scattered on the floor, their plastic forms gleaming in the harsh light. Olivia knew what awaited her: forced playtime, infantile games designed to further humiliate her and chip away at her remaining sense of self. The playpen wasn’t just a confinement; it was a symbol of her new reality, a place where her mind and body would be moulded into something unrecognizable. Before leaving Olivia to her fate, Lucille produced a baby bottle filled with a milky white liquid. “Here you go, darling,” she chirped, thrusting the bottle into Olivia’s hands. “A little snack to keep you fueled during playtime. Make sure you finish it before I get back, or there will be consequences.” Olivia eyed the bottle with disgust. The thought of drinking baby formula, of being treated like an infant, made her stomach churn. But the memory of Lucille’s earlier threats was still fresh in her mind. She knew better than to disobey. “And remember,” Lucille added with a sly smile, “milk always makes babies need a diaper change. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself feeling a little… wet… soon. It’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?” She winked, a gesture that sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. With a final, mocking pat on the head, Lucille left Olivia alone in the playpen, the bottle of formula a heavy weight in her trembling hand. Olivia stared at the milky liquid, her mind racing. She had to find a way out of this, a way to escape the demon’s clutches and reclaim her life. But for now, she had to play along, to survive this twisted game until she could find a way to fight back. With a deep breath, she raised the bottle to her lips, the taste of the formula a bitter reminder of her powerlessness. The formula, surprisingly, wasn’t as repulsive as Olivia had anticipated. It was sweet, cloying, and left a sticky residue on her lips. As she drained the last few drops, a warmth spread through her lower abdomen. It was the familiar, dreaded feeling, the precursor to another humiliating episode of incontinence. She tried to hold it back, to clench her muscles and resist the urge, but it was futile. A warm trickle escaped, followed by a steady stream. The diaper quickly became saturated, the heavy, wet sensation a stark reminder of her helplessness. Just as Olivia was sinking into despair, the door creaked open. Lucille swept into the room, her eyes scanning Olivia with predatory interest. “Well, well, well,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone couldn’t hold her tinkles. Did the yummy milk make the baby girl tinkle in her diaper? Tell me what you’ve done little girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, a tear tracing a hot path down her cheek. Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely audible over the crinkling of the soaked diaper against her skin. “Y-yes,” she stammered her helplessness a bitter pill to swallow. “I wet myself. Please, I need a change.” Lucille’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “Oh, sweetie,” she crooned, her voice dripping with false sympathy, “did you forget already? It’s playtime now. Big girls need to learn patience, you know?” She gestured towards the scattered toys in the playpen, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Now, be a good girl and play with your toys. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll consider changing you after.” Lucille collected her things from the room and went away again. Olivia’s heart sank. She knew there was no point in arguing. The discomfort of the wet diaper was unbearable, but the fear of further humiliation was even worse. With a defeated sigh, she reached for a brightly colored rattle, her mind racing as she tried to devise a plan. She couldn’t stay like this, trapped in this infantile nightmare. There had to be a way out. Olivia halfheartedly shook the rattle, the hollow sound a mocking echo of her own emptiness. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – anger, humiliation, and a deep-seated fear that this was her new reality. But beneath those emotions, a spark of defiance remained, a refusal to completely surrender to the demon’s twisted game. As she played, her eyes darted around the room, searching for any potential escape route. The windows were too high, the door locked from the outside. Her gaze fell upon the diaper bag Lucille had brought in earlier. Perhaps there was something in there, a tool, a weapon, anything that could help her break free. Mustering all her courage, Olivia crawled towards the bag, her movements cautious and deliberate. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric. A surge of hope coursed through her veins. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she could escape this nightmare. With trembling fingers, Olivia unzipped the diaper bag, her heart pounding in her chest. The contents were a grotesque parody of a baby’s essentials: talcum powder, a tube of diaper rash cream, a handful of pacifiers, and a stack of brightly colored diapers. Olivia’s stomach churned as she realized there was nothing useful in the bag, nothing that could aid her escape. A sob escaped her lips as she slumped back against the playpen wall, a wave of despair washing over her. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own home, reduced to a helpless infant. The demon had won, and her life as she knew it was over. As if sensing her defeat, Lucille’s voice echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of her presence. “Having fun, Olivia?” she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. “Don’t worry, darling. The beginning is starting now. You’ll soon learn to love your new life, with all its messy little pleasures.” Olivia’s body tensed, her stomach clenching in response to Lucille’s taunting words. The formula, now churning in her belly, triggered a familiar urge, a pressure building within her. She tried to fight it, to hold back, but the demon’s influence was too strong. A solid mass of warmth flooded her diaper, the sensation a mix of relief and utter shame. She had lost control again, her body betraying her in the most humiliating way possible. The smell of her poop filled the playpen, a pungent reminder of her degradation. Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes as she whimpered softly. She was no longer just wet; she was filthy, a helpless infant adult wallowing in her own excrement. This was the lowest point of her life, a nadir of shame and despair. She had become the very thing the demon wanted her to be: a helpless, infantile creature, utterly dependent on its cruel whims. Lucille’s laughter echoed through the room, a cruel melody that twisted Olivia’s insides. “Oh, Olivia,” she cooed, her voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet tone, “what a mess you’ve made. But don’t worry, darling. We’ll take care of it.” With a snap of her fingers, Lucille conjured a new toy, a large, plush teddy bear with soft brown fur and innocent button eyes. The bear was oddly oversized for the playpen, its limbs sprawling across the limited space. “Look, Olivia,” Lucille purred, “a new friend to keep you company. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun together.” Lucille says as she snaps her fingers again, this time filling Olivia up with libido. As she spoke, an unsettling warmth began to spread through Olivia’s body. The sensation was different from the shame and disgust she had felt earlier. It was a warmth that tingled and pulsed, a growing heat that seemed to originate from her princess parts. Her eyes darted to the teddy bear, a new and unfamiliar desire taking root in her mind. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, let out a low chuckle. “Yes, darling,” she whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Let your imagination run wild. Play with your new friend, and don’t be afraid to explore your desires. After all, a little mess is nothing to be ashamed of, is it?” Lucille bumps up Olivia’s libido with a click of her fingers. The shame that had consumed Olivia moments before began to morph into something else, a tingling curiosity that pulsed through her princess parts and body. Her eyes remained locked on the teddy bear, its soft fur and inviting curves a stark contrast to the cold, sterile plastic of the playpen. Lucille’s words echoed in her mind, a tempting invitation to explore a forbidden realm. “Don’t be afraid to explore your desires,” she had said. And in that moment, a wave of rebellion surged through Olivia. If this was the life she was forced to live, she would find a way to make it her own, to carve out a sliver of pleasure from the humiliation. With a newfound determination, Olivia crawled towards the teddy bear, her eyes never leaving its plush form. She reached out, her fingers sinking into the soft fur, a shiver running down her spine. The sensation was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold, clinical touch of Lucille’s hands. Emboldened by the rising warmth within her, Olivia pulled herself onto the teddy bear, straddling its plush body. The diaper, already heavy with her excrement, shifted against her sensitive parts, the friction igniting a spark of pleasure that sent a jolt through her body. She gasped, her fingers tightening in the bear’s fur as she rocked against it, the forbidden sensation growing with each movement. Olivia’s body writhed in pleasure as she grinded against the giant teddy bear, the contents of her messy diaper rubbing against her pussy with each movement. The wetness and warmth of the padding only heightened her arousal, her clit throbbing with need. Lucille watched with a smirk on her face, enjoying the humiliation of the adult woman humping a stuffed animal in a wet and messy diaper and recorded her. “Well, well, well,” she taunted, “looks like someone’s enjoying their messy diaper a little too much.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny the pleasure coursing through her body. She pushed harder against the teddy, her orgasm building with each rub of the poopy wet diaper against her princess parts. Lucille leaned in, a playful smirk twisting her lips, “Someone’s already making quite the mess, aren’t they? And it’s about to get a different type of messy, isn’t it, wittle Olivia?” Her eyes sparkled with malicious delight, a hint of purring entering her tone. Olivia couldn’t hold back any longer, her climax hitting her like a wave. She cried out, her pussy pulsing with pleasure as she came into the wet and messy diaper. She continued grinding and grinding, its foul contents spreading further, while she had orgasm after orgasm until she lay against the teddy bear exhausted, but in ecstasy with a very messy diapered bottom. Lucille’s voicedripped with saccharine sweetness, a stark contrast to the cruel glint in her eyes. “Oh, Olivia, what a good girl you are!” she cooed, clapping her hands together in mock delight. “Look at the lovely present you left in your diaper. Such a big, smelly surprise and a sticky one too!” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?” she whispered, her voice laced with a perverse kind of satisfaction. “Such a dirty little baby, making a sticky mess like that. Mommy’s so pleased.” Olivia, already burdened with humiliation, felt a fresh wave of shame wash over her at Lucille’s twisted praise. Tears welled up in her eyes anew, not from the discomfort of the soiled diaper, but from the crushing weight of degradation. She had never felt so small, so utterly debased. “Please,” Olivia choked out, her voice barely a whisper, “just… just clean me up.” The words tasted like poison on her tongue, each syllable a surrender to the demon’s cruel game. Lucille’s smile widened, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “As you wish, my sticky little mess maker,” she purred, her voice laced with malicious glee. With deliberate slowness, she began to clean Olivia, her every touch a reminder of the scientist’s helplessness. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of her situation. But even with her eyes closed, she could still feel Lucille’s cold, mocking gaze upon her. The cleaning process was agonizingly slow, Lucille taking every opportunity to prolong Olivia’s torment. She cooed and praised Olivia’s “good behaviour,” her voice a grating symphony of condescension. Olivia, exhausted from humping her teddy, fell asleep during her diaper change. Chapter 10: Life Could Be A Dream (Finale) When Olivia awoke, she found herself not in her bed, but in a crib, its bars cold and unyielding against her touch. Panic flared as she realized she was locked in, the familiar surroundings of her bedroom warped and distorted by the dim light filtering through the slats. A desperate urge to pee gnawed at her, the sensation growing stronger with each passing moment. Olivia squirmed, her diaper rustling with her movements, but there was no escape. Tears welled up in her eyes as she succumbed to the inevitable, the warmth spreading through her diaper a humiliating reminder of her helplessness. The door creaked open, and Lucille entered, her silhouette framed by the dim light. Her eyes gleamed as she took in the sight of Olivia, trapped and soiled in the crib. “Ah, my little baby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Did you have an accident? Such a shame. But don’t worry, Mommy’s here to take care of you.” Olivia clenched her fists, her cheeks burning with shame and anger. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of defiance and desperation. Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “Not yet, my dear,” she purred. “First, we need to have a little chat.” She walked over to the crib, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back, her body pressed against the cold bars. Lucille leaned over the crib, her face mere inches from Olivia’s. “You see, Olivia,” she said, her voice soft and insidious, “this is your true nature. Helpless, dependent, in need of a mommy to change your dirty diaper.” Olivia’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a baby!” she hissed. “I’m a grown woman, a scientist!” Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “That’s what you think, my dear. But deep down, you crave this. You crave the comfort of a diaper, the security of being taken care of, the thrill of submission.” Olivia wanted to scream, to deny everything Lucille was saying, but the words died in her throat. A part of her, a small, insidious part, whispered in agreement. Lucille reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s diaper. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she purred. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” A strange sensation washed over Olivia, a mixture of shame, excitement, and surrender. She closed her eyes, her body trembling as Lucille unlatched the crib and lifted her out. “That’s it, my little baby,” Lucille crooned, her voice a hypnotic lullaby. “Let Mommy take care of you.” She carried Olivia to the desk, where the strange contraption hummed with an unsettling energy. Lucille placed a helmet on Olivia’s head, its cold metal pressing against her temples. “Now, my dear,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation. “Let’s explore your deepest desires together.” The world around Olivia dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, her consciousness slipping away into the realm of dreams. The chill of the helmet pressed against Olivia’s skin, plunging her into the swirling chaos of the dream realm. She found herself in a dimly lit classroom, the air thick with the scent of chalk and old books. Rows of wooden desks faced a blackboard covered in complex equations and diagrams. Olivia was seated at one of the desks, her legs dangling above the floor. She was wearing a school uniform, a pleated skirt and a white blouse, but the most noticeable feature was the thick diaper peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. A figure stood at the front of the classroom, a stern-looking woman with wire-rimmed glasses and a tight bun. It was Professor Lucille, her voice booming across the room as she lectured on the intricacies of quantum mechanics. “Now, Miss Olivia,” she said, her gaze fixing on Olivia with a disapproving frown. “Can you explain to the class the principles of quantum entanglement?” Olivia squirmed in her seat, her face flushed with embarrassment. She had no idea what quantum entanglement was, and the diaper bulging between her legs made it difficult to concentrate. “I… I don’t know, Professor,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. Professor Lucille sighed, a sound of exasperation mixed with a hint of amusement. “Of course you don’t, you silly girl,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve been too busy playing with your dollies and wetting your diaper.” A wave of shame washed over Olivia. She knew Professor Lucille was right; she had been neglecting her studies, her mind preoccupied with childish fantasies and the comfort of a full diaper. “But don’t worry, Olivia,” Professor Lucille continued, her voice taking on a seductive purr. “I’m here to help you. I’m here to teach you all about the wonders of science… and the joys of diaper submission.” She walked towards Olivia, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. Professor Lucille stopped beside Olivia’s desk, her hand reaching out to gently stroke Olivia’s hair. “You’re such a bright girl, Olivia,” she whispered. “But you need discipline. You need guidance. You need… a firm hand.” Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine, a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew what was coming, and a part of her, a dark, forbidden part, craved it. Professor Lucille stepped back, her gaze intense and unwavering. “Stand up, Olivia,” she commanded. Trembling, Olivia pushed herself up from her chair, her legs shaking beneath her. She was fully aware of the obscene sight she must have presented, her diaper sagging heavily between her legs, a wet patch spreading across the front. “Bend over your desk,” Professor Lucille instructed. Olivia did as she was told, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden desk as she leaned forward, her bottom thrust out. She could feel the cold air on her diaper, the material still damp from her earlier accidents. Professor Lucille moved behind her, her steps measured and deliberate. Olivia closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable. The first slap came down hard, the impact echoing through the classroom. Olivia gasped, her body jolting forward. The sharp pain radiated through her, a stark contrast to the comforting warmth of her diaper. Another slap followed, and another. Each one stung, the pain building with every strike. Olivia couldn’t help but moan, her body writhing beneath the assault. “Is this what you need, Olivia?” Professor Lucille asked, her voice thick with desire. “Discipline? Control?” “Yessss,” Olivia whimpered, the word barely audible. She was beyond shame now, beyond embarrassment. She was lost in the sensations, her body betraying her with each whimper and moan. Professor Lucille continued the spanking, each slap harder and more intense than the last. Olivia could feel her diaper growing even wetter, the heat from her punishment mixing with the warmth of her excretions and the heat from how horny she was getting. Eventually, Professor Lucille stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Olivia’s bottom and princess parts were a throbbing mess, her body aching with the abuse. “Very good, Olivia,” Professor Lucille said, her voice soft and comforting. “You have learned your lesson.” Olivia stayed bent over the desk, too exhausted to move. She could feel the trickle of wetness trailing down her legs, her diaper now thoroughly soaked and leaking. In that moment, she belonged to Professor Lucille. She was her student, her submissive, her plaything. She had surrendered herself completely, her body and her mind. And she had never felt so alive. Suddenly, the classroom vanished, the scent of chalk and the echoing lecture fading into oblivion. Olivia gasped, her eyes flying open as the helmet was removed from her head. The dream’s lingering warmth clung to her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of her bedroom. Lucille loomed over her, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Well, my dear,” she purred, “it seems you’ve discovered a hidden talent for academic submission.” Olivia recoiled, a wave of revulsion washing over her. The memory of her dream-self, the meek student eager for punishment, filled her with shame and disgust. “No,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “That’s not me. That’s not who I am.” Lucille chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension. “Don’t be so naive, Olivia,” she chided. “That is who you are, deep down. You crave authority, discipline, the thrill of surrendering to a dominant figure.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You’re wrong,” she insisted. “This is just a dream, a twisted fantasy you’ve implanted in my mind.” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh, is it?” she challenged. “Then why is your heart racing? Why are your cheeks flushed? Why can’t you deny the undeniable pleasure you felt in that classroom?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. The lingering warmth of the dream, the memory of Professor Lucille’s firm hand, the thrill of submission… it was all too real, too intoxicating. “This isn’t me,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. But even as she said the words, a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. Lucille leaned closer, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she whispered. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” The helmet descended once more, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Lucille’s touch. Olivia braced herself, unsure of what awaited her in the depths of her subconscious this time. The world dissolved into a dizzying vortex of colors and shapes, before solidifying into a starkly different scene. She found herself in a grand ballroom, chandeliers glittering overhead, the air filled with the strains of a waltz. But Olivia was not a guest at this elegant affair. She was dressed as a maid, her uniform crisp and starched, a frilly apron tied around her waist. A diaper peeked out from beneath her skirt, a stark reminder of her subservient role. Across the room, a figure stood out from the swirling crowd of dancers. It was Lady Lucille, resplendent in a flowing gown, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Olivia navigate the crowded room, a tray of champagne flutes balanced precariously in her hands. Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stumbled, her diaper rustling with her every movement. The guests snickered and whispered as she made her way towards Lady Lucille, her heart pounding in her chest. “Ah, there you are, my little maid,” Lady Lucille purred, her voice a seductive melody. “I see you’re having a bit of trouble with your duties.” Olivia lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I apologize, my lady,” she stammered. “I’ll be more careful next time.” Lady Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “No need to apologize, my dear,” she said, her voice softening. “Accidents happen, especially to clumsy little maids who can’t seem to keep their diapers dry.” Olivia’s face flushed crimson. She could feel the warmth spreading through her diaper, a humiliating reminder of her inadequacy. Lady Lucille reached out, her fingers gently lifting Olivia’s chin. “But don’t worry, my dear,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have a special task for you, a task that will require all of your… unique talents.” Lady Lucille led Olivia through the throng of dancers, her grip firm on Olivia’s arm. They reached a secluded alcove, hidden from the prying eyes of the guests. The air here was thick with the scent of perfume and something else, something primal and intoxicating. “You see, Olivia,” Lady Lucille began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I have a… particular interest in those who find pleasure in serving others. Those who revel in their own submission, who find joy in fulfilling their master’s every whim.” Olivia’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew where this was going, and a part of her, a part she had desperately tried to suppress, thrilled at the prospect. Lady Lucille’s hand trailed down Olivia’s arm, her fingers lingering on the curve of her hip. “I’ve heard whispers,” she continued, her voice a seductive purr, “of a brilliant scientist who has a secret, a hidden desire for something… more.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but she couldn’t deny the truth in Lady Lucille’s words. The dreams, the fantasies, the forbidden desires… they were all bubbling to the surface, threatening to consume her. “Don’t be afraid, Olivia,” Lady Lucille whispered, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace your desires. Embrace your submission. Embrace your diaper.” Her hand slipped under Olivia’s skirt, her fingers brushing against the damp warmth of the diaper. Olivia gasped, her body tensing, but a wave of pleasure washed over her, erasing all thoughts of resistance. Lady Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “There you are, my little pet,” she purred. “Let me show you how truly wonderful it can be to serve.” Lady Lucille’s fingers trailed along the wet fabric of the diaper, making Olivia shiver with desire. She could feel her heart racing, her breathing shallow and ragged as the older woman continued to touch her. “You like that, don’t you?” Lady Lucille murmured in her ear, her breath hot and heavy. “Feeling my fingers on your wet diaper?” Olivia could only nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. She had never felt anything like this before – the combination of shame, excitement, and arousal was intoxicating. Lady Lucille’s other hand reached up to caress Olivia’s breast, her thumb circling the nipple through the fabric of her dress. “Such a good girl,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “So eager to please, so willing to submit.” Olivia felt herself sinking deeper into the pleasure, her mind clouded with thoughts of servitude and desire. She wanted nothing more than to please Lady Lucille, to do whatever she asked of her. “Take off your panties,” Lady Lucille commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. “Let me see your diaper.” Olivia’s hands trembled as she obeyed, sliding her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. She stood there, exposed and vulnerable, her diaper on display for Lady Lucille to see. “Such a good girl,” Lady Lucille murmured again, her hand reaching down to stroke the wet fabric of the diaper. “So obedient, so eager to please.” Olivia felt herself melting under the older woman’s touch, her body trembling with pleasure. She had never felt anything like this before, never experienced such intense arousal and submission. “Now, go back to the party,” Lady Lucille said, her voice still firm but with a hint of amusement. “But remember, you belong to me now. You are my pet, my submissive, my little girl in diapers.” Olivia nodded, her mind still reeling with pleasure and desire. She turned and walked back to the party, her diaper wet and heavy between her legs, her mind focused on Lady Lucille and the new world of pleasure she had opened up for her. The opulent ballroom dissolved into a hazy blur, replaced by the stark familiarity of Olivia’s bedroom. The helmet was gone, the echo of Lady Lucille’s seductive voice fading into a distant memory. Olivia blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The sensation of the wet diaper between her legs remained, a tangible reminder of the dream’s intense reality. A wave of shame washed over her, followed by a pang of longing. She touched her cheeks, still flushed from the dream’s passionate encounter, and the denial rose within her. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head fiercely. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Yet, the memory of Lady Lucille’s touch, her whispered promises of pleasure and submission, lingered in Olivia’s mind like a tempting siren song. The logical part of her, the scientist, rebelled against these newfound desires. But another part, a darker, more primal aspect, yearned to succumb to the forbidden thrill. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “Still clinging to your illusions, my dear?” she asked, her voice a silky thread weaving through the silence. “Denial is a powerful tool, but it won’t shield you from the truth forever.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “This is wrong,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re manipulating me, twisting my mind.” Lucille tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Am I, Olivia?” she countered. “Or am I simply revealing what’s been hidden within you all along?” Olivia’s resolve wavered, her mind caught in a tug-of-war between reason and desire. She longed to believe that this was all a twisted game, a cruel trick played by a manipulative demon. But deep down, a gnawing doubt gnawed at her. “You’re lying,” she insisted, her voice a desperate plea for reassurance. “This isn’t who I am.” Lucille’s smile widened, her eyes glittering with triumph. “We’ll see about that, my dear,” she purred. “The night is young, and we have so much more to explore.” The helmet’s familiar weight settled upon Olivia’s head, and the world around her dissolved once more. This time, she found herself in a brightly lit playroom, filled with toys and colorful decorations. But the atmosphere was far from cheerful. Olivia was seated in a high chair, a bib tied around her neck, a half-eaten bowl of mush in front of her. She wore a baby blue onesie, and a thick diaper bulged between her legs. A stern-faced woman in a nanny uniform stood before her, a spoonful of mush hovering in the air. “Eat up, Olivia,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. “Big girls need to finish their dinner if they want to grow up strong and healthy.” Olivia scowled, pushing the spoon away with a petulant whine. “I don’t wanna,” she mumbled, her voice thick with defiance. Nanny Lucille’s smile tightened. “Oh, but you will,” she insisted, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “You’re a naughty little girl who needs to learn some manners. And I know just the way to teach you.” She set the spoon aside and reached for a wooden paddle hanging on the wall. Olivia’s eyes widened in alarm as Nanny Lucille approached, the paddle held menacingly in her hand. “This will teach you a lesson, young lady,” Nanny Lucille declared, her voice dripping with mock disapproval. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before disobeying your nanny.” The paddle connected with Olivia’s bottom, a sharp sting that sent a shockwave through her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, but a strange heat bloomed in her core, a mixture of pain, humiliation, and a forbidden thrill. Nanny Lucille continued her discipline, each strike of the paddle igniting a conflicting symphony of sensations within Olivia. She whimpered and cried, yet a part of her reveled in the punishment, her body responding with a growing warmth and a tingling arousal. “There, there,” Nanny Lucille cooed, her voice a soothing balm as she set the paddle aside. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, are you going to be a good girl and finish your dinner?” Olivia nodded meekly, her cheeks flushed with shame and a strange excitement. She opened her mouth as Nanny Lucille scooped up another spoonful of mush, a flicker of defiance still burning in her eyes, yet her body already yielding to the intoxicating power of submission. The playroom scene dissolved, leaving Olivia blinking in the dim light of her bedroom once more. The helmet was gone, the echo of Nanny Lucille’s stern voice and the sting of the paddle fading into a disturbing memory. She was still in her onesie, the diaper heavy and warm between her legs. The lingering sensation of the spanking, a mix of humiliation and a strange warmth, sent a shiver down her spine. “Well?” Lucille’s voice cut through the silence, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Did you enjoy your little lesson, my dear?” Olivia recoiled, her cheeks burning with shame and confusion. “No,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. “Oh, but it is, my dear,” she purred. “These are your dreams, Olivia. Your desires. Your fantasies.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with disbelief. “No,” she insisted. “This is just some twisted trick you’re playing on me. I’m not like this.” Lucille leaned closer, her eyes boring into Olivia’s. “Are you so sure?” she challenged. “Why else would you dream of such things? Why else would your body respond with such… enthusiasm?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. She couldn’t deny the strange pleasure she had experienced in the dream, the conflicting emotions that had stirred within her. Could Lucille be right? Were these truly her hidden desires, her deepest fantasies? “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. Embrace your little girl side.” Olivia opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. A part of her, a small, vulnerable part, yearned to believe Lucille. Yearned to surrender to the comfort and security of being a helpless little girl in a diaper. But another part of her, the scientist, the rational thinker, screamed in defiance. This couldn’t be her. This couldn’t be what she wanted. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “The choice is yours, my dear,” she purred. “You can continue to deny your true desires, or you can embrace them. The decision is yours.” The helmet’s familiar chill once again enveloped Olivia’s head, and her surroundings dissolved into a swirling vortex. This time, she found herself standing on a sun-drenched beach, the warm sand between her toes, the salty breeze tousling her hair. But something was different. Olivia was clad in a bright pink bikini, her body tanned and toned. Yet, beneath the skimpy fabric, a thick diaper bulged prominently, its outline unmistakable. A giggle escaped her lips as she ran towards the sparkling waves, the diaper crinkling with every step. A group of friends waved to her from the shore, their laughter echoing across the beach. Olivia plunged into the water, relishing the cool embrace of the ocean. But as she swam, a strange sensation spread through her diaper – a warmth, a wetness, a sense of fullness. Emerging from the waves, Olivia felt a pang of excitement mixed with a hint of embarrassment. She knew her diaper was soaked, but instead of shame, a thrill coursed through her veins. She waddled back to her friends, the diaper sagging heavily between her legs. To her surprise, her friends didn’t mock or tease her. Instead, they showered her with compliments, their eyes filled with admiration. “You look so cute in that diaper, Olivia!” one of them exclaimed. “It’s like you’re a little baby again.” Olivia giggled, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. The feeling of the wet diaper against her skin, the attention from her friends, the undeniable thrill of being babied – it was all so intoxicating. She spent the rest of the day playing in the sand, building sandcastles and splashing in the waves, her diaper growing heavier and messier with each passing hour. But the discomfort was outweighed by the sheer joy of embracing her newfound freedom, of reveling in the childish abandon that the diaper represented. As the sun began to set, Olivia’s friends gathered around her, their faces glowing with warmth and acceptance. “We love you, Olivia,” they chorused, their voices filled with genuine affection. “And we love your diapers.” Olivia beamed, her heart swelling with happiness. This was it, she realized. This was what she truly wanted. The freedom to embrace her childish side, to revel in the comfort and security of a diaper, to be loved and accepted for who she was, messy diaper and all. As the beach scene began to fade, a realization dawned upon Olivia. This wasn’t just a dream; it was a reflection of her deepest desires, her hidden yearnings. The joy she had felt, the acceptance, the pure, unadulterated pleasure of embracing her childish side – it was all real, all hers. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, paused mid-motion, the helmet hovering inches above her head. “What is it, my dear?” she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Olivia’s eyes snapped open, her gaze meeting Lucille’s with newfound clarity. The shame, the denial, the confusion – it all melted away, replaced by a sense of liberation. “I see it now,” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I see what you’ve been trying to show me all along.” A slow smile spread across Lucille’s face, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Do you, my dear?” she purred. “And what is it that you see?” Olivia took a deep breath, the words pouring out of her like a dam bursting. “I see that I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m not just a scientist, a rational thinker. I’m also a little girl, a playful, curious, sometimes messy little girl who loves her diapers.” Lucille nodded, her smile widening. “Yes, my dear,” she affirmed. “That’s exactly who you are.” Olivia continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I see that I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can embrace my desires, my fantasies, my love for diapers.” Lucille lowered the helmet, her touch gentle as she removed it from Olivia’s head. “You are free, Olivia,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. “Free to be yourself. Free to be the little girl you’ve always been.” Olivia smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up her face. She looked down at her diaper, no longer a source of shame, but a symbol of her newfound freedom. “Thank you, Lucille,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you for showing me the truth.” Lucille returned the smile, her eyes filled with affection. “You’re welcome, my dear,” she said. “Now, go and play. Be the little girl you were always meant to be.” And with that, Olivia, clad in her onesie and diaper, skipped out of the room, her heart filled with joy and a newfound sense of self-acceptance. A wave of euphoria washed over Olivia as she skipped down the hallway, her diaper swishing with every step. But as she rounded a corner, a sense of unease crept over her. The familiar decor of her house seemed off, the colors too vibrant, the proportions distorted. A chilling realization struck her: this wasn’t real. She was still dreaming, still trapped in the illusion crafted by Lucille’s insidious device. The joy she had felt moments ago turned to dread as she understood the implications. “Lucille!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the empty hallway. “This is a dream! I know it is!” A giggle echoed behind her, and Lucille materialized from the shadows, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Very clever, my dear,” she purred. “But even in your dreams, you can’t escape the truth.” Olivia whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of fear and defiance. Lucille raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, but you are out, my dear,” she countered. “You’re right where you belong.” With a flick of her wrist, Lucille removed the helmet from Olivia’s head. The dream world shattered, the vibrant colors fading into the familiar darkness of the bedroom. Olivia found herself back in the crib, her onesie damp and clinging to her skin. The realization of her predicament, the undeniable truth of her desires, hit her like a tidal wave. “No,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. “This can’t be real. This can’t be who I am.” Suddenly, the world around Olivia transformed once again, the familiar chill of the helmet pressing against her temples as she entered a new dream realm. This time, she found herself in a lavish bedroom, the air filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and musk. The room was dimly lit, casting a seductive glow over the scene unfolding before her. Lucille stood before her, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she gazed at Olivia with hunger in her eyes. Lucille was dressed in a sheer robe that barely concealed her curves, the fabric clinging to her skin in all the right places. Olivia’s heart raced at the sight, a mixture of desire and trepidation swirling inside her. “Welcome, my dear Olivia,” Lucille purred, her voice sending shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her. She was no longer the innocent student or in a classroom or a maid in a ball; she was now a willing participant in a seductive game of pleasure and submission. Lucille approached Olivia, her hand reaching out to caress Olivia’s cheek with a feather-light touch. Olivia’s skin tingled at the contact, her body responding to the intimate gesture. “You’re such a good girl, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her words a tantalizing promise of what was to come. “Let me take care of you.” With a deft movement, Lucille lowered Olivia to the plush bed, her hands expertly undoing Olivia’s clothing until she was left in nothing but her soaked diaper. Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal, a heady mix of emotions swirling inside her. Lucille’s touch was electric as she traced a path down Olivia’s body, her fingers dancing over the wet fabric of the diaper. Olivia couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, her body arching instinctively towards Lucille’s touch. “Such a naughty girl,” Lucille murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “Let’s see just how wet you can get for me.” With skillful fingers, Lucille began to rub Olivia’s pussy through the diaper, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Olivia’s lips. The fabric became slick with Olivia’s arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. But Lucille wasn’t done yet. She produced a vibrator, the buzzing sound filling the room with anticipation. Placing it against the soaked diaper, she teased Olivia with the vibrating sensation, driving her wild with need. Olivia’s hips moved involuntarily, aching for more stimulation, more release. Lucille watched with a wicked gleam in her eyes, enjoying the sight of Olivia squirming under her touch. “Such a good girl,” Lucille cooed, increasing the intensity of the vibrator against the soaked fabric. Olivia’s moans grew louder, her body on the edge of ecstasy. And then, with a devious smile, Lucille presented a giant teddy bear, its plush form inviting and enticing. She guided Olivia’s hips towards the bear, urging her to hump the soft toy with abandon. Olivia couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge, the combination of the vibrator, the soaked diaper, and the commanding presence of Lucille pushing her towards a mind-blowing climax. She rode the teddy bear with abandon, her body shaking with pleasure as she reached the peak of ecstasy. As Olivia’s body trembled with release, the sensations washing over her like a tidal wave, she felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had experienced before. In that moment, she let go of all inhibitions, all reservations, and surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of the dream. The room faded away as the helmet was lifted from Olivia’s head, leaving her breathless and exhilarated. The memory of the dream lingered, a potent mix of desire and arousal that left Olivia questioning everything she thought she knew about herself. Lucille leaned over the crib, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it is real, my dear,” she purred, echoing Olivia’s words from moments before she went into her dream. “And it is exactly who you are.” She reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s soaked diaper. “You see, Olivia,” she continued, her voice a soothing melody, “your tears, your denial, it was all part of the process. You were fighting against the truth, clinging to an outdated image of yourself.” Lucille’s touch sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine, a strange mixture of shame and pleasure. “But now,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “you’ve seen the light. You’ve experienced the joy, the freedom, the pure bliss of embracing your inner little girl.” Olivia’s gaze fell to her diaper, the physical manifestation of her surrender. A tear rolled down her cheek, but this time, it wasn’t a tear of despair. It was a tear of acceptance, of release. She had fought against the truth for so long, but now, finally, she understood. This was who she was, this was what she wanted. And as the tears streamed down her face, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was a little girl, a messy, playful, diaper-loving little girl. And she was finally home with Mummy Lucille. The End. You can read more of my stories on my deviantart page or my site.

Room and Board Introduction: This is a story I wrote in 1995, which explains the references to the yellow pages and the glaring lack of cell phones or the internet. It's dark, and loving only in a twisted non-consensual kind of way, so be forewarned. All characters are fictional and meant to be over age 18. Chapter 1 It had seemed like an ideal situation: reasonable rent, near the campus, well-furnished. It only had a few drawbacks. It was just a room in some lady's house, so there was a relative lack of privacy. And the lady seemed a bit odd. Mrs. Williams was in her late fifties, he thought, and there wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but her whole attitude seemed just a little off-kilter. She seemed concerned about things most people quietly ignored. Near the end of Derek’s first visit, for example, she had asked, out of the blue and suspiciously, if he wet the bed. Shocked and a little insulted, he stammered a denial. But she'd just looked at him, as though she didn't quite believe him. And she'd said that she wouldn't rent to a bedwetter, and she showed him a clause in the lease to prove it. He wasn't worried, as he'd never wet his bed that he could remember. But he certainly thought it strange. Everything else about the room, Derek decided, however, was pretty good, and with such a housing shortage in this small college town, he was happy to find an opening on such short notice. The deal included no meals, although he was invited to cook for himself. He agreed to some nominal chores around the house to knock a few bucks off the rent each month. As he signed the lease, he thought about the upcoming year, hoping it would be everything he'd expected. Even into the second week of classes, the decision seemed wise. No one other than the lady lived there, and since he spent most of his time at class or in his room, he didn't run into the lady too often. She didn't work outside the home, but she apparently had an odd schedule. She had friends she visited, and referred to some volunteer work. He never knew when she might be home. But in general, he was happy to have a quiet place to live and study. If he was annoyed about the plastic mattress cover on the bed, he decided he wouldn’t make a big deal about it. He wondered what previous tenant had made her so single-mindedly worried. One day near the end of the second week Derek came home from classes to find her in his bedroom, pulling the sheets off of his bed. He knocked quietly on the open door to let her know he was there. "I didn't know laundry service was included," he said, smiling, putting his books on a chair. Mrs. Williams whirled around to face him, an angry look on her face. Derek stepped back, alarmed at her sudden movement. "I thought you said you weren't a bedwetter," she snapped. "I'm not," he said. This was true. He had never wet his bed. "Look at these sheets. What do you call that?" She held up a sopping wet sheet. He moved closer to see. As he leaned toward the sheet she held, he could see that, yes, there was certainly a large yellowish stain. And--ugh--it smelled of urine. But how? While Derek tried to recall waking up in a wet bed that morning, Mrs. Williams kept talking. "Do you have any idea how much a mattress costs?" she asked rhetorically. "I should have known: you *look* like a bedwetter, that's what the neighbors said. I should never have let you stay here. Oh, dear! I hope the waterproofing held!" She pulled back the wet sheet to reveal the plastic mattress cover, which seemed to have kept the mattress safe. "Oh, thank goodness. It held this time." She turned back to him. "What have you got to say for yourself?" "I...I...don't remember doing that," he murmured, intensely embarrassed about the whole incident and the fuss she was making. He could not remember waking up and thinking anything was amiss. Yet he could hardly deny those sheets; he couldn't explain it other than that he must have blocked it out of his memory. "But I'm really sorry." "Don't forget that this was a condition of the lease!" she told him, shaking her finger. "I should throw you out of here right now.” Derek’s head starting buzzing. That would be terrible. He looked around desperately. Where would he go? But then she appeared to calm down a little and, seeing his distress, sighed. “I'll give you a choice," she said. She rolled the sheet up and set it on the floor by the door, then sat on the bed. "There are two ways to resolve this. One, you pack up and get out right this minute. But I’m sure you'll have trouble getting another room with the poor referral I'll have to give you. In this small town, leaving my house might very well be the same as leaving college; I can't think of any openings at all, much less for a bedwetter. No one wants to open their home up to that kind of abuse." He started to panic as he realized she was probably right. It had been luck, he thought, to stumble on this nice place. Since the college had underestimated acceptances, the dorms were full and every house in town was occupied. What could he do? "Or two," Mrs. Williams continued with a hint of a smile, "we do things Mama's way." This made Derek slightly uncomfortable. Again he thought, she sure is weird. But he didn't really have much of a choice. He at least had to hear her out. So he, too, sat down, hearing the crinkling of the mattress cover. "And what would that be?" "I want you to be able to stay here, but I also want to be able to make sure the bed stays completely dry. How does that sound to you?" He wasn't sure. "Okay, I guess," he replied hesitantly. She paused. "Good. Then you'll see the wisdom in wearing some protection. You see, even with the plastic sheet on the bed, we still have the wet sheets with which to deal every day. No, this is really the only way." He didn't have any idea what she was talking about. Wearing protection? A condom? What the heck? When he didn't say anything, she continued. "It'll only be at night, of course. I could see that you might find it embarrassing. But you could also see it as very appropriate to use an infantile solution for an infantile problem," she rambled on, and he began to get the picture. She saw a look of horror pass over his face, and knew he'd caught on. Her tone of voice told him she wasn't kidding, but Derek couldn't believe she was suggesting what he thought she was. "You can't mean..." She nodded, her face serious as stone. "Yes. It's your choice: you can wear diapers to bed, or you can try to find another landlord's bed to soil. You pick." He stared at the floor, stunned at her absurd proposal. Would she really toss him out? A quick glance at her face was enough to convince him that she would, probably in a heartbeat. And then what would he do? He hardly knew this small town… He felt his face flush red as he realized he'd have to take her up on her offer. He cleared his throat nervously and looked up toward her, though he couldn't meet her stare. "How, uh, long would...*this* go on?" he asked her without emotion, trying to remain distant and seem unaffected. "Forever, of course," she said. And then quickly, "While you're in *this* house, I mean. You think about it, but if you're still here tonight, I'll take that as an agreement to stay. In that case, come tell me when you're ready to go to bed, and we'll get you all set up." She smiled and stood, then turned back before she felt. "Otherwise, feel free to use my yellow pages to book a hotel room, which is probably all you could find. Don't really know what you'd do with your stuff, though. Well, that's not my problem. Either way, get those smelly wet sheets in the washer immediately, or all bets are off and I confiscate your deposit." She left. He spent a little while sitting in silence as he stared at the bed. How could he live with himself for doing such a silly thing? It was embarrassing enough to have wet the bed, but then to be caught and have to be diapered was even worse. How grown-up he'd thought he was coming to college! And then this accident, the most infantile, embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. But what choice did he have now? He'd paid rent for this month, and he hardly had cash to be throwing around, even if he could find another place that would allow a "bedwetter," since it appeared that this was what he was. No, he'd have to sleep in this bed for a while, at least until the end of the month, when his rent was due. Perhaps by then he could find another place. He washed his sheets, the whole time trying in vain to remember when he'd wet his bed. He must have repressed it, he thought. And the whole thing must have been due to the stress of starting college. Damnedest luck, though, to start wetting his bed now, in this woman's house, of all places. Now he had to go through this embarrassing ordeal. After dinner and studying, he nervously approached her as she sat reading. "I'm, um, ready to go to bed now." "Ah," she said, getting up. "You'll want your diaper then, right?" "Right," he murmured, blushing. She disappeared into her bedroom, and he heard the sound of a package being ripped open. She returned not long thereafter carrying a large, white, disposable diaper, which she extended to him and which he hesitantly took. Mrs. Williams indicated the bathroom, saying, "You may change in there; for now we'll see how you do by yourself. I've left some baby powder by the sink for your comfort, and I'd advise you to use it, since it can get pretty hot under the plastic of your diaper. I'll also tell you now that I've left some baby wipes for your use in the morning if you should need them.” She smiled at him. “One more thing: be sure to use the toilet before you put the diaper on. I’ll explain in a moment, but you won't be able to use the toilet again until the morning. Come out when you've finished and we'll take it from there. And just yell if you need help in there," she said, still smiling. Instead of being reassuring, it was a little creepy to him. He turned without saying a word, since he could think of nothing appropriate to say. He entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him, immediately setting down his diaper and then heading for and using the toilet. What was that all about, he wondered as he urinated. Bathroom "restriction" hadn't been part of the bargain. He could understand the necessity of the diaper, but how did it help for him not to use the bathroom? He'd obviously have to ask about that in a minute. He returned to the sink near the door, picked up his diaper, and briefly considered using the powder before he rejected this idea. It smelled like babies, and he didn't want to be reminded of how infantile this whole thing was every time he took a breath. So next he took off his shoes, undid and removed his jeans, and pulled his boxers down and off. He was ready, he guessed. Derek stared at the diaper on the sink counter, then picked it up and tried to discern how it was supposed to be put on. He hadn't ever babysat, had no younger siblings, and couldn't remember his own diaper usage from his childhood, so he was working entirely from scratch. He opened it up, correctly surmised the purpose of the tapes, but saw that the tapes could be fastened either in the front or the back. He tried to slip it through his legs as he stood there in front of the mirror, but he had no luck. He needed more hands. It was only once he'd sat down on it that he realized the tapes had to fasten in front for him to put it on himself at all, since he couldn't reach the back like that. He actually managed to get it on properly, which was a relief. The last thing he wanted was for Mrs. Williams to have to help him. He didn’t want to feel any more like a baby. After he stood up, Derek readjusted the tapes so the diaper wouldn't slide back down his legs. He looked at himself in the mirror now, standing there in his t-shirt and diaper, and was so embarrassed for having to go through this. Imagine having wet his bed! He wouldn't have believed it had he not seen the spot on the sheets. Facing this "solution" was far harder than any of his classes. He put his pants back on, not wanting Mrs. Williams to see him like this. It was bad enough she'd know he was wearing the diaper at all. He gathered his shoes and underwear and walked to the bathroom door, hearing for the first time the rustle of the plastic of the diaper under his jeans. It made him cringe. When he reentered the hallway, she was waiting right where he'd left her, and her expression as he approached seemed odd. Her eyes gleamed, and her face radiated happiness, as if she actually enjoyed seeing him in a diaper. Well, he thought, she is protecting her mattress and keeping a tenant; she ought to be somewhat satisfied. "Alright," Derek said to the floor. "I'm all set. I'm going to bed." "Not yet," she told him cheerfully. "First I need you to take those silly pants off and let me see just how well you did with the diaper. It doesn't help at all if it's not on properly," she explained as he stared at her incredulously. Derek’s face flushed deep red as he accommodated her, his hands slowly undoing his buckle and zipper and letting his jeans drop to the ground in front of her. "You can just step out of those," Mrs. Williams said quickly. "You shan't need them around here at night, after all." His face aflame, he did so, deciding already that he would never be able to tell anybody, not even his family, about this humiliating experience. He'd come to college to grow up, but now look at him! She knelt in front of him, her face uncomfortably close to his diaper as she inspected his handiwork. He nearly fainted as she reached out and retaped two of the tapes, and he bit his lip when her fingers tugged at the leg elastic and gently pulled the waist up before deciding she was satisfied. "Not too bad, for your first time. It'll get easier, I'm sure. You'll be allowed to continue diapering yourself for now, unless I notice you having any difficulty with the job." Derek refused to imagine this. "Now stand there for just another moment, please," she instructed him before disappearing back inside her bedroom and reappearing with what looked to him like a huge pair of plastic underwear. She couldn't mean… "These are plastic pants, for you to wear over your diaper," Mrs. Williams explained, holding them down to the floor, obviously meaning for him to step into them. "Hold on," Derek said, getting a little overwhelmed. "I didn't agree to this." "But they're totally necessary," she said. "All diapers leak, especially at night, and then all of our efforts will be for nothing. Come on, you're already wearing the diaper; these are hardly any worse." He sighed and stepped into the legs of the plastic pants, which she expertly tugged up his legs. "Wait," he protested. "They don't fit. They're way too tight." "No, no," she said, snapping the waistband up above his diaper. "That's how they prevent leaks." She spun him around to inspect the rear. He felt a slight tug at the waistband, but didn't suspect anything unusual until he heard the distinct clicking of a lock snapping shut. "Hey! What's that?" Derek cried, craning his neck around to see what had just been done to him. "Don't worry," she cooed to him. "It's just a little lock. I have to know you won't take all of this off during the night. You might not even mean to, but things could get dislodged as you toss and turn in your sleep, and my mattress could end up getting wet. You wouldn't want that, would you?" He tested the waist of the plastic pants. It was not uncomfortably tight, but would not give at all. "Well, no, of course not," he said uncertainly. This was more than he'd bargained for, but what could he do? "This is why I made sure you used the bathroom,” Mrs. Williams said. “I didn't want to surprise you, you see. Of course, if you still need to go during the night, you could always use this thing; that's what it was meant for.” She stood up and stepped back, inspecting her work. "Now, doesn’t that feel secure? It might be a little inconvenient, but I have to be able to keep an eye on my little bedwetter, don't I? He cringed at the term. Mrs. Williams went on, “I have the key, of course, and in the morning I'll be more than willing to unlock you so you can get ready for school.” He breathed a sigh of relief. He certainly didn’t want to be seen outside this house in a diaper. “And don't worry,” she continued. “You'll get used to all this; in a couple of weeks, it'll all be second nature to come to me each night for a fresh diaper and your plastic panties. It may seem odd now, but it all makes perfect sense, and you'll get used to it.” "Now let's get some sleep, okay?" And with that, Derek watched her disappear into her bedroom and close the door. He stood there in the hall for a moment, trying to absorb his present situation, but he couldn't. He wandered back into the bathroom, noting that the crinkly sound from the diaper was slightly muted now, and he stared at himself again in the mirror. Now he stared at the balloon-like plastic pants he wore, the white translucent material still affording him a view of his diaper. He could see the lock on the back now, but couldn't reach it, nor did he have the key. He wondered where it was, but only idly, since he guessed that letting himself out would be construed as bad faith, and he would be tossed out the door. Indeed, the only shred of dignity to which he clung was the fact that he had managed to keep himself off the street tonight. Ah, well. His ego would heal itself in time, and this was only a very temporary situation. Chapter 2 He headed back to his bedroom, and thought wryly about her invitation to use the diaper for its intended purpose. Right! How embarrassing would that be, to face her in the morning not only in a diaper but in a *used* diaper? He couldn't be *paid* to submit himself to such humiliation. And how comfortable could it be? So although he was a little worried about his nightly habit of using the toilet in the middle of the night, he still resolved not to use his diaper. He'd simply have to train himself out of that habit for a while. He wasn't surprised to find that he didn't sleep too well that night. The diaper and plastic pants were too new and strange as sensations: bulky yet tight, and warmer than he'd expected. He saw, by the morning, why the powder had been recommended. And he really ended up missing his midnight bathroom trip. By the time his alarm went off in the morning his bladder felt very full, and he eagerly sought out the lady, who was in the kitchen, to unlock him. She did so, and had him remove his plastic pants and give them to her before giving him leave to run to the bathroom. As he struggled out of his plastic pants, she glanced at the indicator strip on the diaper. "Didn't use it? You might as well, you know: you'd never be able to tell it’s wet. They make such good diapers these days. And think how much more comfortable you'd be during the night, especially toward morning. Anyway, you're free to change yourself now. Just bring me the diaper when you're through, and I'll show you what to do with it." He half-grunted a reply as he dashed off to the bathroom, where he quickly ripped off the diaper and relieved himself in the toilet. He also had his morning bowel movement, an event so regular it had been a joke at home throughout his life. Every morning, without fail, sometimes before, often during, and if not, then immediately after breakfast each and every morning. His family at home had nearly been able to set their clocks by it. After a shower, he dressed and headed back out to the kitchen, carrying his diaper with him. She was cleaning her breakfast dishes at the sink, and he cleared his throat to tell her he was back. He held the used diaper awkwardly toward her; she showed him how to wrap it up in itself, and a special little diaper pail in the kitchen where he was to deposit the previous night's diaper when he had removed it. He was to wrap the diaper in front of her and deposit it there each morning. "But you don't really have to throw it away," he protested. "I didn't use it, you know." "You let me worry about that," she chided. "I don't like my boys to wear the same diaper two nights in a row, regardless of whether or not they used it. It just isn't right." He was late for classes, so he just shrugged and left. On his way to campus, though, he wondered about her comment. "Her boys?" What did that mean? There wasn't anyone else in that house, he knew. She must have had some sons when she was younger. Great, he thought. I get to be lumped in with diaper-wearing toddlers just because I wet the bed one time. That night went much the same as the previous night: he went to her when he was ready for bed, he received a diaper, went into the bathroom and peed. This night, though, he put a small amount of the baby powder on his inner thighs to cut down on the sweating he did the night before, and was surprised to experience a flood of remote feelings from his childhood return as he inhaled that infantile perfume. Weird, he thought. He managed to put the diaper on a little more quickly tonight, then went out into the hall to have the diaper adjusted and to have his plastic pants put on and locked. Tonight she complimented him on how nice he smelled, causing him to blush; apparently the powder brought back memories for her as well, he thought. She wished him good night and he went to bed. Again he had trouble sleeping, although he had to admit the powder helped. But his bladder was again uncomfortable as the night went on, and he tossed and turned as morning approached. When she unlocked him that morning, her comments returned to the subject of using the diaper. "I don't understand why you don't just use the diaper instead of being uncomfortable. It doesn't matter, since we always throw the diaper away anyway, no matter whether you use it or not. *I* certainly don't care whether it's used or not. It’s not like I’m going to let you out of diapers if you stay dry. You’ve got nothing to prove to me. Oh, well, no sense arguing: it's *you* that's uncomfortable." Chapter 3 After a week of wearing the diapers at night, he began to get more comfortable with them, managing to sleep fairly well, at least in the beginning of the night. He'd used more and more powder each night, as he discovered how nice it felt, and he began not to notice the smell as much. Derek was even starting to retrain his body not to need the midnight bathroom trip anymore, mostly by restricting fluids after dinner. That way, he wasn't tempted to use the diaper, and he felt slightly less embarrassed about his diaper-wearing that way. He noted the fact that he hadn't wet the bed since that one night, which reinforced his impression that it must have been a fluke. On Friday of that week, he was invited to a party on campus by several of his second-year classmates. He was happy about this opportunity to get his social life in gear, and about the prospect of drinking, which he had done only sporadically in high school and in minimal amounts. He politely informed his landlord, who simply asked him to keep things quiet upon his return that night. She told him to wake her, if she was asleep, for his diaper; she didn't mind, she said. So he went off and happily found that beer was readily accessible in the fraternities, even to underage guys like himself. His inexperience, however, led to the consumption of a bit too much alcohol, and after several beers, he couldn't remember why drinking so much was a bad idea. He walked home at one, and was surprised to find Mrs. Williams still up, reading. He was afraid she'd make a big deal about smelling like beer, but she said nothing, handing him his diaper as usual. His foremost thought, as he went through the motions of peeing and then putting his diaper on, was that he'd gotten too buzzed. Not being an experienced drinker, Derek was nervous about having a hangover tomorrow; he'd asked a friend how to prevent post- party headaches, and the friend had advised him to replace fluids, since dehydration led to many of the hangover symptoms. So once he had his diaper on, he drank deeply from the bathroom tap, until he was satisfied that he'd done all that he could. Mrs. Williams smiled as she handed him his plastic pants, but she still didn't say anything. She'd smelled the beer, and heard the water, and she suspected that tonight would be a special night for him. But he still hadn't figured out why the beer and water might have been a bad idea. When he awoke at about three, however, his bladder ready to burst, he quickly realized his mistake. It was actually painful, and much as he tried, he couldn't drift off back to sleep again. Fully awake, he thought about what he could do about his problem. He could try to hold out until morning, which seemed impossible at this moment. He could wake up Mrs. Williams and beg for use of the bathroom, but considering all of her urging to use the diaper, he (correctly) thought that she wouldn't be pleased to be awakened for such a reason. No, he knew his fate was decided, and his face burned with embarrassment even thinking about it. For the first time since he was a baby, he was going to have to "use" a diaper. The pain convinced him to do it sooner rather than later, so he took a deep breath and pushed his diaphragm down, forcing the urine in his bladder out his urethra into the waiting diaper. He felt a warmth spread between his legs, and was surprised when it didn't really feel that bad. It spread through his whole diaper area, to his bottom and to the front. Before he knew it, the pain was gone, and the warmth of the wet diaper sent him drifting back to sleep… He woke up at eight thirty that morning, his bladder once again full. By this time, however, his diaper *was* not feeling very comfortable, now being rather cold and damp. He gingerly got out of bed, noting thankfully that the plastic pants had done their job. He felt the wet disposable diaper cling to his skin, and he made his way as quickly as possible to the kitchen, where he knew he'd find Mrs. Williams. She was indeed there, and as she caught sight of him waddling in with a saggy, boggy diaper, she let out what was apparently a shriek of joy. Derek suddenly regained his self-consciousness, which had been momentarily suppressed by his discomfort. He realized he was there in front of her with a visibly wet diaper! How embarrassing. And she was anything but discrete about it. "Well, well," she chirped happily. "Finally getting some good use out of those, I see. Glad to know I'm not wasting my time and money. Wow, and a thorough job, too, she said as she unlocked him. "It's not that bad, is it? Well, congratulations." He said nothing, but scurried away to the bathroom to make himself more comfortable. He could think of nothing but his embarrassment at having been seen in a wet diaper. It took some courage after he had showered and dressed to return to the kitchen for breakfast. But he discovered, when he did, that she had prepared a huge meal for him, the first time she had ever done such a thing. He was surprised and pleased, but felt sheepish about handing over his heavy wet diaper to her. He was also embarrassed to have to ask his next question: "How do I, um, clean those plastic pants? They, uh, got a little wet, too." But Mrs. Williams sang, "Oh, never mind them. Just leave them in the bathroom and I'll make sure they're cleaned. Don't give them another thought: it's not at all a big deal." And, happy not to have to deal with them, he sat down for his breakfast. Her special hospitality that day didn't end there. She cooked the other meals for him and did his laundry, and he really had to admit that he liked the help and attention. That night, of course, he did not wet his diaper, and the next day she hardly spoke to him at all. The difference in her attitude was obvious, and he thought it odd. She clearly wanted him to wet his diaper at night, but *why* would she want that? The best answer that he could come up with, considering her frugal nature, was that if he wet at night, then she wasn't "wasting" her money on diapers that weren't used. He had to admit that as weird as she was, he did like her, and he certainly did appreciate her help with chores, which left him more time to study and relax. So...what would be the harm in indulging her a little? She'd already seen Derek in a wet diaper, and she didn't mind. Plus, without his midnight bathroom break he did get uncomfortable toward morning. Why not take advantage? He therefore began presenting a wet diaper to Mrs. Williams every morning, and every morning she would coo and fuss, and that evening he'd have a good dinner and help with favors and chores. This went on for several weeks, and just as wetting a diaper every night seemed more and more routine, so, too, did he forget about finding a new place to live. She made the rest of his life so pleasant that he almost didn't mind the weird diaper thing, which to him grew less and less weird as time went on. He got to where he wouldn't even pause before peeing in his diaper if he woke during the night, and even found himself thankful for the diaper, since he didn't have to get out of bed to use the bathroom. Chapter 4 One morning, after he'd been wearing diapers at night for a month, he woke up with a modestly wet diaper, and sleepily went off looking for the lady to unlock him. When he couldn't find her in the kitchen or den, he stumbled back to her bedroom, where the door was shut. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He wandered out into the living room and wondered what to do, and his eyes drifted outside to the empty space in her driveway. She was gone! This was upsetting, since he had to get ready and leave for class soon, but he trusted that she'd be back soon. For now, though, he was annoyed at having to rearrange his morning routine, since he couldn't shower right away like he usually did. And he had to pee. Luckily, *that* wasn't a problem, though, he smiled to himself as he released his urine into his damp diaper. It warmed comfortably, and he didn't notice how he’d started enjoying the feeling. The diaper was now sagging pretty seriously, though, and he suspected that it might be close to its saturation point. He hoped she came home soon. Deciding he needed to do something productive or he would be late for class, he sat down in his wet diaper and ate a bowl of cereal, consciously missing a cooked meal. As he ate he thought about the day ahead. It was an important day for one of his classes, a seminar that started at nine and lasted all morning. Today they would receive midterm paper topics and exam instructions for the midterm test in a couple weeks. He couldn't miss today. He finished his cereal and, since there was still no sign of her, began to worry in earnest. He had to get to class! And soon, he knew, he'd have another big problem. His morning bowel movement, regular as clockwork, often hit him with an urge that was strong enough to make him run to the bathroom in the middle of breakfast (a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the landlady). The idea of using his diaper for that revolted him. and this was a possibility he did not want to face. He knew such a thing had to smell horrendously, be very uncomfortable, and be far too embarrassing to let *her* see or smell. No, that was a bridge he couldn't, and wouldn't, cross, today or ever. He got up and went back into the living room, staring out the picture window toward the street, wishing her home. Suddenly that urge hit. And true to form, it hit hard. He looked around, panicked. He tugged at his chained waist. But of course it wouldn’t give a bit. A cramp hit him hard. And then he knew. He was going to have an accident. Only he wasn't sure if it could be called an "accident" if he was wearing a diaper. He shuddered at the thought. The urge got worse. He'd never tried waiting and seeing if it went away; he wondered if it could. But it didn't now. It worsened until he had to concentrate on *not* relieving his bowels. He wondered again what a messy diaper would feel like. For how long could he last, after all? Not four hours like this! He wouldn't even be able to walk to class like this. And it worsened still. He managed to walk slowly back to the lady's bedroom. Surely she'd forgive him if he found the key to his panties and unlocked himself just this once. He tried the door, but it was locked. And heavy: he couldn't break it down even if he had wanted to., He didn't want to try, though, for he had a hunch that so much effort might very well make him fill his diaper. His watch said eight forty-five now. This was terrible. He'd never felt as uncomfortable and miserable as he did now. He looked for her car again. No luck. The feeling hadn't eased a bit. It was no use, he knew. A little voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like the lady's, told him to do the logical thing and mess his diaper. It was a diaper, after all. Another voice chimed in that the lady wouldn't mind if he did; she was odd enough that she would probably even like it, and who knew what she'd cook for him then? In response he allowed himself the small luxury of relaxing his sphincter just a little to see what it felt like, and before he could stop what was happening (he realized it was all over now) his bowel movement pushed its way out into his diaper. The first moments felt heavenly, he thought, as the pressure inside was released, but then as he felt the mess collect and push itself around in the seat of his diaper, felt his diaper fill and pull slightly, felt the warm mushy heat surround his buttocks, it started to dawn on him what he had just done. He'd just deliberately pooped in his diaper. And now that the initial relief had passed, he began to be utterly disgusted with the sensations from within the diaper. How could he have done such a thing? Derek waddled out to the front room carefully, so as not to force the load in his diaper into motion, but was disappointed to see that the lady's car was still missing. A wave of horror washed over him as he realized that he still *had* to go to class, and that now he would have to walk around, talk to classmates and professors, and sit in this sopping, messy diaper he'd created. What if someone saw it? Smelled it? Heard it? And sitting in it for several hours was not something he looked forward to. He cursed, loudly and repeatedly, but that didn't help much. And he had to leave right away, or he'd be late, on top of everything else. Walking in late, with everyone's attention on him, was just the initial impression he didn't want to make, so he tried to hurry. He waddled into his room, feeling his diaper's load shift with every step. As he put his jeans on and bent over to pull them up, his BM smoothly spread itself out over his cheeks and between his legs. He grimaced, knowing that this feeling was only the beginning. He quickly found the longest shirt he owned, hoping to cover up his horrible secret. He finished dressing and waddled to class as normally and as quickly as he could. He was not late, but was not early enough that he felt obligated to talk to anyone. He just chose a seat in the back, and silently endured the three hour seminar, trying not to move or draw attention to himself. He was miserable and humiliated as he counted the minutes to the end of class. He nearly cried twice. He was just so grateful no one seemed to notice him. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe the plastic pants helped contain the smell? At the end, he sprinted from the class back home, ignoring the discomfort this caused him, just wanting to get home and changed as soon as possible. Derek felt relieved, angry, and embarrassed when he saw her car in the driveway. He tried to picture how she'd react, and he almost dreaded the possibility that she wouldn't be grossed out, or might actually be happy at his predicament. She was making lunch when he waddled in silently. He needed to be unlocked, but he was so angry and embarrassed about his condition that he didn't know how to start a conversation. She heard him enter, though, and greeted him. A moment later she sniffed the air and asked if he smelled anything strange. He nodded slightly and looked away. She came over to him and took one of his hands. "Is there something wrong?" she asked him tenderly, sensing he was upset. That maternal action muddled up his emotions, and he inadvertently released his frustration in a flood of tears. "Where *were* you this morning?" he choked. He was pissed off at himself for crying, but couldn't help it. The day had been so bad. She sat him down and pulled him close. "Oh, my little boy, it's alright. I'm here now. What happened this morning? Did you have a little accident?" He sniffed and nodded into her arms, letting her sleeves soak up his tears. "It's okay. Everybody has accidents, and everybody has a messy diaper once in a while. It's no big deal. I'm here now. It's alright." She kept cooing to him and stroking his hair until he stopped crying. "Is it uncomfortable?" she asked sympathetically. He nodded. "And smelly?" He nodded again, aware that he had regressed for a few minutes, but feeling that it was appropriate under these circumstances. It felt so nice to be cared for. "But you don't need to be embarrassed, okay? Because everybody has dirty diapers once in a while, right? Okay. Don't worry about it. Let's just get you changed, okay?" He nodded, but looked at her reluctantly. "What? Do you need me to help, or can you do it yourself? It can be a big job, you know." He finally found his voice. "No, no, it's okay. I'll do it." "Fine. As you know, the wipes are in the bathroom. Use as many as you need to to get yourself clean. And be thorough, okay? Messes can lead to a rash pretty quickly." He nodded, embarrassed. "And just bring me your diaper and your baby pants afterward. Now let's get you unlocked. I've got the key right here." He took off his shoes, then undid his jeans and removed them. He saw that his disposable had leaked badly into the plastic pants, allowing a brownish fluid to accumulate in them, and he knew she could see this as well. But she didn't mention it. She just unlocked his pants and patted him gently on the bottom. He then went into the bathroom to spend ten of the most disgusting minutes of his life removing the diaper and its contents from his bottom and legs. He used dozens of baby wipes as well as toilet paper, and afterward he showered, thoroughly washing his diaper area as she had said. After he dressed, he brought out the disgusting diaper to the kitchen, where the lady had him put it in a ziplock baggie and deposit it into the trash. She smilingly told him that once again, she'd take care of his "baby pants," a term she'd started using so gradually that he hadn't even noticed it. Chapter 5 He was feeling much better about life since he had showered, and when he caught sight of the meal she'd prepared for him, he was genuinely elated. It was great! He was grateful to her for making such a bad situation turn out so well; she was a good mom, he thought to himself before he could stop himself. Landlady, he corrected himself. Or friend, or whatever. Anyway, she was nice. And her kindness took another noticeable step up in intensity after this incident, he noticed. She now cooked all of his meals, drove him wherever he needed to go, did all the housekeeping chores, and even rented movies she thought he'd like on the weekends. He refused to think of it as a reward for having messed his diaper; that was an absurd explanation. She was probably just recognizing that the incident had brought them closer together. And he liked the new benefits, so he didn't think about it too critically. It was just a few days later (after several uneventful, wet nights) when he found himself talking to a classmate, a sophomore girl (who naturally intimidated him). The subject of housing came up. She asked him where he lived, and, wanting to make a good impression, he tried to describe the location of the house. She looked confused, and said, "Not in the baby house, though, right?" A little chill went down his spine. "What do you mean?" She told him that there was an older woman in one of those houses on Oak Street who, every year, tried to snare a freshman boy, turning him into her "baby." "It's pretty freaky, I've got to say, although for all I know it's just a rumor. But the rumor is that she puts the guy into baby diapers, baby clothes, makes him sleep in a crib, eat baby food, everything. Supposedly once a guy gets caught by her, he's hers until he graduates. It hasn't happened for a year or two, so I haven't seen it, only heard about it from upperclassmen. But can you imagine? “Apparently they get sucked in during freshman year before they know better, and somehow get trapped. I don't really understand why they don't walk away. Maybe they like it, but I can't imagine why. I'd bet they'd get teased, you know? Anyway, it's weird. I'd watch out," she laughed playfully, obviously either not taking the rumors seriously, or not suspecting him of being in that house. Derek laughed, too, trying to cover up his anxiety. He thought she must be talking about his landlady. Later, he thought about it carefully. Could the rumors be true? They had to be talking about her; how many other women on his street put their boarders in diapers? But he only wore the diapers at night, and none of the other stuff was true. The stories were too fantastic to be true, he thought. What had happened to him had probably happened to someone else at some point in the past, and someone had found out and blown the whole thing out of proportion. It was probably like a typical game of "telephone", when rumors get exaggerated naturally. Besides, Mrs. Williams was nice. A little eccentric, but not wacko. The two of them had a very nice relationship, and he trusted her, so he didn't see a reason to panic and move out. At the most he'd just keep his eyes open. And for the next week, the last week before midterms, everything was, indeed, as "normal" as ever: he put on a clean diaper at night, and would present her with a wet one the next morning. His nervousness about midterms, his first college tests, was growing. Derek was glad to learn that a big bash was scheduled for the weekend before midterms started, the traditional way on campus to blow off steam before exams. He went, of course, and unfortunately had his first real experience with out-of-control drinking. By the time he stumbled home at two in the morning, he could hardly balance himself. He pushed his way along walls, received his diaper from a rather alarmed landlady, and fell into the bathroom to pee and put his diaper on. He peed, and peed a great amount, but in a very inaccurate way. Then he slumped down on the bathroom floor to try to put his diaper on. He fumbled with the diaper, getting lots of powder on the tapes so that they wouldn't stick. And in his intoxicated state, he couldn't figure out what to do about it, so he did the best he could. He stood up, and it was on backwards, and the tapes wouldn't stick, and he basically had to hold the diaper up with his hands. But he didn't care: he had to get to bed to stop the world from spinning. He managed to stumble out into the hall to face Mrs. Williams. She said something about his diaper and he said he *couldn't* do it right and didn't want to try and could she please just give him the goddamned pants so he could go to the fucking bed. He just watched as the expression on her face changed, and he was led back into the bathroom and seated on the floor. The lady disappeared for a moment, and when she returned she had another diaper. She pushed him back down to the floor, and he just let her do it: it felt nice to lie down, and he was just barely aware of the fact that she removed the bad diaper, put the new one under his bottom, spread lots of powder all over and drew the diaper up between his legs and taped it. With some difficulty she got him standing and retaped the diaper properly, then got him into his baby pants. She looked toward the toilet and said something about his peeing on the floor, but he was too out of it to understand. She said something else and then led him to his bed, where he immediately went to sleep. Chapter 6 He awoke the next morning with a very wet diaper and muddled memories of the night before. He had a bad headache, and he took two aspirins before heading to the kitchen to get Mrs. Williams to unlock him. He immediately saw that she was not in a good mood; this was not something he needed this morning. He brusquely asked her to unlock him so he could change, but she said they needed to talk. Once they were both seated she looked at him sadly. "Do you even know what happened last night?" He shook his head, as it was slightly easier than talking. "Well, I'd better tell you, because we have to deal with it somehow, I'm afraid." Derek was getting the same feeling he used to get when his mother punished him as a little boy, an ominous, foreboding sense that he had been bad but hadn't even known it. "I'm assuming you may have been a little drunk last night?" He nodded. "Well, you peed all over my bathroom, I'm afraid. It's still there if you want to go look." He stared at his feet, not wanting to go look at that piece of handiwork. He was sure she was right, for that sounded slightly familiar. "Not only that, but you cursed several times at me. And you were completely unable to put your diaper on by yourself, which, of course, I had to remedy. Do you remember any of this?" He did, slightly, to his humiliation. She had seen him naked, and had put his diaper on for him. Oh, boy. He nodded. "Well, the first thing is that you wanted to be responsible for putting on your own diapers. Suddenly you're shirking that responsibility, and that's a big problem. I have to know that you're wearing that diaper each and every night, and that you're wearing it properly. Leaks don't help us at all, you know. So if you can't be trusted with that responsibility, I'm afraid I'll just have to assume it." He tried to think of something to say, anything to protest, but she went right on. "Let me finish. Second, as you know, toilet usage is a privilege, not a right. I'd have thought you of all people would have known that," she said, looking pointedly at his diaper. "You have to earn that privilege, and I don’t think you should be allowed in my bathrooms anymore. Normally, that would create quite a problem for a tenant, but in your situation, it would seem as though we have a clear and established alternative available." Again she glanced at his diaper. "My point is that I'm afraid we need to deal with these issues right away to assure that last night's fiasco cannot ever be repeated. As I see it, we need to make two changes. First, I will change your diaper from now on. It's easier for you and I don't mind, especially since I have the extra piece of mind knowing it's done right every time.” Derek swallowed. It was one thing to have her rescue him when he was blind drunk, and he was still embarrassed that she saw him naked under those circumstances. Now she wanted to change him every time? He wasn’t sure--- “Second, you make the small step of going from wearing diapers at night to wearing them all the time whenever you're in my house. We do both of these, and we're completely covered." Mrs. Williams paused. "The trouble is, I know it might be difficult for a boy like you to get used to these ideas, and I haven't yet made up my mind what to do. What do *you* think?" Derek sat with his mouth open. He certainly hadn't expected anything like this, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't be serious," he said, rubbing his eyes. His head hurt so much. "Of course I am," she replied. "But you're obviously in shock, and I can appreciate that. I'm not unreasonable. So how about we only do *one* of those two things. And to make it easier for you, you get to pick which one. Okay?" He was still staring into space. "Now look at it from my perspective. I have to know my bathroom won't get abused and that my bed doesn't get damaged, right?" He nodded, conceding this point. "And something has to be done in the wake of last night, don't you agree?" He admitted to himself, with some shame, that it had been quite a performance. He nodded again to her. Something probably needed to be done. But this? "Now, it is my house, and I make the rules. If you can't follow them, you can always leave, as we've discussed. But I like you, and I think you've enjoyed living here. I'd like to work this out, if possible. Because otherwise you're a good tenant, and I'd like you to stay. So take a look at those two options and try to pick one. I'll give you some time to decide.” Mrs. Williams rose from the table, then turned back to him. “Until you decide, though, of course, I'll need to keep you in this diaper, since the result of your decision will dictate how and into what you will be changed. So you go think about it, and tell me when you've decided." She left him sitting at the kitchen table. Derek put his throbbing head down on the table. She'd done it to him again, he realized. She'd sprung something so absurd at him, so suddenly (and right before midterms), that he didn't have any options. He had to study full-time; he had no time to apartment-hunt. He couldn't afford to be homeless right now, so he knew he had to play her game. But she couldn't have planned it this way, right? She was odd, but not devious; he thought he knew that. But the timing was certainly uncanny. So he went back to his room, sat on his bed, and tried to decide which of the two choices was less heinous. He thought about what it would be like for her to change all of his diapers. Pretty big intrusion into his privacy! But then, she'd already done it once. Of course, he'd been drunk and hadn't been that aware of the experience. If he wore a diaper only at night, it would just be clean and wet diapers she'd deal with, not the really embarrassing messy ones. What about the other option? It was absolutely unthinkable. He'd gotten so he didn't mind the night diapers, but that was because they were only partially functional, and then only by choice. Wearing diapers all the time had the air of being totally reduced to baby status, which was too much. He had no interest in having to "earn" toilet privileges. Plus it would obviously mean one or more dirty diapers a day, and a high likelihood of having to wear them out and around again (because what were the odds of her being home every single time he went out?). Furthermore, he knew either of these choices would be embarrassing, but the former choice would be over after several minutes each day and would be confined to night usage, while the latter would obviously be humiliating all the time. So he decided to go with option number one, while telling himself it would only last a week or at most two weeks, until midterms were over and he could find a new place to live. He liked the house, and he appreciated Mrs. Williams, but things were getting a bit weird. Still, he could put up with anything for a week or two. Chapter 7 He waddled out in his wet diaper and told her he wanted the diaper changing option. She sighed contentedly and said, "I'm so happy you'll be staying. I didn't want to drive you away, but I felt something had to be done. And it won't be *that* bad, will it? Sometimes it's nice to sit back and let someone else do the work. Right?" Derek nodded sullenly. His hangover had not been helped by this. He felt a little numbed by the whole experience; it seemed surreal. Mrs. Williams, on the other hand, seemed elated that the issue had been settled. She hugged him; he responded only minimally. "Whoops!" she exclaimed. "I'd better get that wet diaper off of you!" She strode to the other end of the house; he followed tentatively. He felt uncomfortable about the whole thing, assuming this new, passive role. But *she* apparently felt totally comfortable with her new role, and waited for him in the bathroom. He stepped into the room, and she unlocked his pants. He started to pull the baby pants down but she playfully slapped his hands away and did it for him. "Okay, just sit down on the floor while I get out your baby wipes." "You know, I can do this," he said, embarrassed to be so obviously treated like a baby, even as he obeyed her instructions. "I know, but we made a deal. Now lay back and pull your knees up." He sighed and did so, staring off into space, trying to pretend he wasn't there. What would his family think of this? Humming, she leaned over and untaped his wet diaper and pulled it down through his legs, exposing him. She whistled at how wet his diaper was as she opened the baby wipes and pulled one out. "Um, you really don't need to do that," he said anxiously. "I'm just going to shower." "Well, I feel like it's my responsibility," she said, looking at his face through his knees. "I want to leave you as clean after the diapers as you were before. Or even cleaner. Besides, I've *got* all those baby wipes; I may as well use them." And she started at his waist, firmly and quickly covering his skin and gently scrubbing away the remains of the wetness and powder. She did his thighs, his penis, scrotum, and then set that wipe aside. "Okay, now spread some more and lift your knees all the way to your face, please," she directed as she prepared another wipe. "Is this really necessary?" he asked, dreading her next actions. "Yes," she said rather shortly. So he did it, exposing the rest of his most private areas to her. She wiped down his hips and worked her way into his crack, which she held open with one hand and cleaned with the other. This was so embarrassing. She pulled the wet diaper out from under him and replaced it with a clean towel. He dropped his legs instinctively. She picked up the wet diaper and folded it up, saying, "There. That was easy, right? A lot less for you to worry about. We'll be doing this twice a day." Mrs. Williams looked thoughtful. "It's so uncomfortable and cold down here on the floor. I wonder if I could find some sort of table that is more appropriate. Perhaps there are yard sales somewhere today." She started to walk out, but then stopped and turned back to him. "One other thing. For now, I think this will work out fine," she told the naked boy on the bathroom floor (who was trying to hide his genitalia and look dignified). "But anymore slip-ups with the toilet and I'll really have to enforce the other rule as well. Understand?” Derek forced himself to nod. He just wanted this experience to end. “Good,” she said. “And finally, I *do* need that floor and toilet cleaned before lunch today. Now why don't you shower and I'll make some breakfast." She disappeared with the wet diaper, and he was left on the floor to ponder his new living situation. But it was too bizarre. He couldn't really accept it. He tried to see it as a necessary evil during exams, to be remedied later. In fact, he decided to put it out of his mind altogether, and not to let it bother him. He'd ignore it and bear the burden for a week or two, and then move. He had mixed feelings about moving, surprisingly, because of his affection for the landlady. But there were limits to how weird he'd let things get. He shook his head, showered, and got to work studying in his room after an elaborate breakfast. He noticed that Mrs. Williams’ mood was now bordering on mania, and eventually her high spirits brought him around, too (or perhaps it was the aspirin finally kicking in). He knew she wanted him to be happy, and it took a while, but he obliged eventually. Chapter 8 Later in the day Derek heard some loud noises, like furniture being moved, and he emerged from his room to discover that the landlady had somehow brought a large table-like thing into the third, yet-unused bedroom. It looked like an examination table, four feet high and about three and a half wide by six feet long. Covered with a brownish vinyl material, it had several drawers on the side facing away from the wall. She saw him step closer to look, and she beamed with pride. "Pretty good for a garage sale, huh?" she asked, obviously excited and pleased. “And the seller delivered it for an extra $10.” "Yeah, I guess. It's in good shape....but what *is* it?" he asked, confused. Mrs. Williams laughed. "I guess if you don't know, you'll have to wait until bedtime tonight to find out. But it's warmer than the floor!" Then he realized. It was an adult-sized changing table, for him. As she stood next to it he could see it was the perfect height for her to work on him. His first reaction was, strangely, one of shared happiness: yes, this *would* make things easier and more comfortable for both of them. But it also embarrassed him, that he would require such furniture for his diapering needs. He shook his head and decided he couldn’t think about that right now. He needed to get back to studying. His preoccupation with his work must have been what prevented him from seeing this table as the permanentization of his new, more infantile status. That realization wouldn't come until later. The midterm week was difficult, but passed, of course. His exams were tough, but his landlady's help allowed him to study a lot, since he didn't have to concentrate on chores or meals. And while, by the end of the week, he wasn't excited about the diaper changings with Mrs. Williams, he now tolerated the routine, and his embarrassment about the whole thing had lessened somewhat. She clearly looked forward to the changing sessions, cooing and humming throughout them. They would also talk, and during this busy and stressful time, it might be the only talking he did, which was a nice break from studying. So it became more tolerable for him, if not downright enjoyable. His last exam was Friday morning, and he had had to study most of the night for it. When it was over, he was exhausted from the lack of sleep and the cumulative effects of the week. On his way back home, he could think of nothing better than taking a long afternoon nap, and when he got home, that's exactly what he did. It was a glorious nap, and didn't end until about four that afternoon, when he became aware of someone looking at him as he slept. He opened his eyes with alarm, jerking awake to the sight of the Mrs. Williams. She was sitting in his desk chair, staring at him intently. When she saw him awaken she shook her head sadly. He correctly took this as a bad omen, and sat up, worried. "You scared me to death! What's wrong? What are you doing?" Derek asked, still drowsy and confused. She kept shaking her head, saying, "I really am sorry it came to this, because I really like you, and I know it's been hard for you getting used to the diapers." He was now wide awake. "I wish rules weren't rules, but..." She trailed off. "What? What?!" he said, sensing something bad was happening. He searched his tired brain for something he had done wrong. He couldn't think of anything. "Before we get to that, did you finish your exams? Good. Congratulations. So I'm betting you were tired, and had a nap? Great, I hope it was nice..." She was rambling slightly. He asked again what was wrong. "Well, let's see if you can figure this out. Where are you now?" "Right here." "Right. But specifically?" "On my bed, talking to you." "And were you just sleeping in your bed?" "Well, yeah. You saw me." "Yes, I did. Does anything strike you funny about the way you napped in this bed?" He thought for a moment, playing her little game. Knowing her, it probably had to do with diapers. She couldn't mean that he should have been wearing one for his nap? Yes, he thought: that's exactly what she meant. She saw him figure it out, and nodded. "But you said that I only had to wear a diaper at night!" he objected. "No, I certainly did not. *We* agreed that you would wear a diaper *in bed.* We want to prevent you from wetting the bed. That's a definite possibility any time you are asleep in that bed. Right? Look at me. Right?" "But it was a nap," he whined. "Oh, come on. You can do better than that." She was right. He was behaving like a child. He paused as he thought about how to approach this problem like an adult. "Okay. You're right. I'm sorry. Now I know. It won't happen again." Mrs. Williams looked at him and smiled appreciatively at his attempt. "I know that, but unfortunately that's not enough. We need to decide together on a fair punishment." He groaned. He could have expected this. "Such as?" She paused. "I think we both know what needs to be done. I let you off the hook before, but now I don't think there's any way around it," she said sadly. He shook his head. "I will *not* wear diapers all the time. That's too much," he said, looking straight into her eyes. "You ask me to do that forever, and I'm out of here." "Well, I don't want you to leave," she conceded. "So I guess we'll have to compromise. Wearing diapers all the time would be an excellent way to prevent any accidents in bed at all hours of the day and night. And I think it's very important that you experience what that would be like, wearing diapers all the time, so that you try very hard not to make any more mistakes. But I'm willing to have you do it for only a limited amount of time, such as for one week. How does that sound?" "A week?" he asked. "I don't know..." he said doubtfully. He'd promised himself a week ago he wouldn't allow this to happen. But he'd also said that he could stand anything for a week. "Oh, come on," she coaxed. "You don't even know that you'd dislike it." "Of course I would," Derek snorted. "Now listen to me," she snapped. "You came into this house with only one rule, which you promptly broke. We fixed that with the addition of one more rule, which you have now broken *twice* in the space of one week, so far without any real punishment. Is that justice? I don't think so, and I think you know that, too. Now, own up to your mistake and take the punishment like a man, so that we can get back to some peace and quiet. It's just for one week, for God's sake. Don't be such a baby." He absorbed this tirade quietly and knew that in some ways she was right: he had broken a rule several times and endangered her precious bed. Maybe it was time to accept a little punishment and go on. It was just a week. And he'd need at least that long to find a new place to stay. He couldn't move out today, but if he agreed to this, he could start looking and perhaps move out before the week was up. It was sneaky, but it was his only chance of sleeping in a bed tonight and not being entirely humiliated by a whole week in diapers. He nodded his head and looked at the floor. "Okay, you win." She came over and sat on his bed. "It's just a couple diapers a day, not much more than now. It might seem hard, but I need to know I can trust you around the house. Okay?" "Okay." "Okay. I respect you for doing this." She patted his leg. "Now we need to discuss details. Obviously, no bathroom use for a week. I'll just keep it locked so you're not tempted, and that way we won't have to worry about using those nasty plastic panties during the day. I'll unlock the bathroom once a day, in the morning for you to shower, but the door stays propped open so I know you're not cheating. You can brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. And, of course, according to our earlier agreement, I'll be changing the diapers for you. Any questions?" He hadn't thought of this last point. It brought up an embarrassing issue. "Yes, um, can I be allowed to change the, uh, messy ones?" "No, I'll do it," she offered generously. "I don't mind, really. It comes with the territory, of course." She smiled at him, and he smiled very weakly back. "Now, I have one more question for you," she said, turning more serious. He looked up at her, curious. "Are you still thinking of moving out after this week?" There was silence as he discovered that he was not as sneaky as he might think. But might as well be honest; she deserved that. "I'd thought about that, yes," Derek answered. "I'd like to ask a little favor," she said quietly. "I understand about wanting to leave. I do. And that's fine. It's your right, and I understand that my rules, though simple, are sometimes demanding for certain types of boys. But could you please wait for one week before you start looking? Just a week, that's all I ask." She was pushing him again. He'd just promised himself he wouldn't stay the whole week, and she was asking him to break that promise. But he made the mistake of looking into her lonely, seeking eyes. "Uh...well...why?" "Because you might change your mind, and I just want there to be a chance. We'll talk about it next week. You can pretend you're giving notice at a job, because there are some similarities. After all, I'm not sure how long it'll take to fill your room. I need a little time to put an ad in the paper, things like that. And then next week if you still feel like moving out, I won't argue. Okay?" He felt himself caving. He nodded to her. Like a few days would make any difference. But he wished he had a spine. "Thanks." Mrs. Williams rose. "I guess we'd better get started." Chapter 9 He swallowed, not expecting that things would begin so soon. "Um, can I at least use the bathroom one last time?" he asked plaintively. "I don't think so," she said. "I believe in swift sentencing." She smiled. He sighed. She led him into the third bedroom, where the changing table lived. He took off his shoes and socks, and turned away from her involuntarily as he lowered his pants. He hopped up on the changing table, pulled up his shirt, and laid back. He'd done this enough with her he already knew the routine. He pulled his knees up a little as she opened a drawer and pulled out a disposable diaper and some baby powder. He helped her as she pulled down his underpants and slipped them off his legs. "After we do this," she said casually, "why don't you collect the rest of these big boy underpants and bring them to me for safe keeping during the week. You certainly won't be needing them, you know." Already terribly embarrassed, he didn't want to argue. He just nodded and stared at the ceiling as she had him lift his legs. She slid the diaper under his bottom and powdered him heavily all over. Then, as she had for a week, she deftly pulled the diaper up and taped it, had him hop down, and readjusted them slightly for a good standing fit. "Okay, all set. Now if you're wet or dirty, you just need to come to me, tell me what's wrong, and ask to be changed. And I will change you just as soon as I can. I'll try to do it immediately, but that may not always be possible, of course. But I imagine you'll be able to wait a bit if necessary; the diaper's not going anywhere, is it?" She laughed at this. He didn't. "You don't have any classes this week, do you?" she asked. "No," he said. "It's fall break. I was going to go home, but I decided not to when I found out my parents were traveling to New Jersey to visit relatives. At that point, I thought I'd rather stay here; now I'm not so sure," he said glumly. "Oh, we'll do fine all week. The fact that you don't have classes will make things easier, of course. We'll negotiate outings as they come up. But when you're here in the house, and don't have any company, I need to be able to see your diaper at all times, not only to make sure you're wearing it, but also to see when you need to be changed. So, no pants in the house, okay? I'll keep the heat up so you're not cold. Okay?" Derek drew in his breath. Another little surprise. How humiliating that would be, to walk around the house wearing only a diaper, and sometimes a wet or messy diaper at that. But like she said, it was her house, and she made the rules, and if she didn't mind seeing the diaper, then he'd have to cope. He would start looking for a place next week for sure. "So we'll end in a week...well, it would certainly be silly to get you out of diapers right before bed on Friday, so we'll call this thing over on Saturday morning, okay? That's it. See you in an hour for dinner; how's scallops?" Scallops were great, as it turned out, but he was thinking more about his predicament than the food. He sat on his bed after dinner, in his slightly wet disposable diaper, and had a moment of insight. He saw himself as he was, an eighteen-year-old young man willingly waddling around a woman's house in nothing but a diaper, allowing a woman to change him whenever he got wet or dirty. How bizarre and disgusting it seemed! Yet he'd agreed to it. He thought again about what that sophomore girl had said and now could see that this was obviously the same house to which she'd referred. And to a certain extent, he'd been taken in just as she'd said. He knew now why the other boys hadn't "just run away." It had snuck up on them, like it had on him, one weird little thing at a time, until she was changing his diaper twenty-four hours a day. The good thing, though, was that he now could see clearly what was happening, and even knew, through that girl, where it might all head if he weren't careful. He had insight, and that protected him, he thought. True, what had happened so far was strange, but he was going to catch it before it went too far. He wasn't being held captive, and he would leave in one week's time (or whenever he could find a new place to stay). He was also protected by the fact that he had such a good relationship with Mrs. Williams; they could talk, and she had already accepted the fact that he was moving out. So the babifying process would undoubtedly end here. He almost laughed about it now, how silly he'd been to have come even this far. But thank goodness he'd realized the mistake in time. Chapter 10 Buoyed by his new confidence about the situation, he tried to relax and enjoy the lady's company, as they still got along well despite the "punishment." In fact, she seemed even happier than usual, which didn't surprise him, but he was content to take advantage of it. They watched TV all evening, and periodically he would go out to the kitchen to be alone for a moment so he could pee in private. Soon his diaper became quite boggy, and though he wanted to keep the number of changes down to a minimum, he couldn't keep her from noticing the diaper's sag. "Looks like there's a little boy with wet pants," she said cheerfully, making him blush. "Come on, let's go change that wet diaper." During the diaper change, Mrs. Williams mentioned that as long as he was in diapers, it didn't hurt to take advantage of them. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well, one of the best parts about wearing a diaper is that you don't have to worry about sphincter tone, which takes more concentration than you realize." "No, it doesn't. It's easy." Derek didn’t know what she was talking about. "Oh, yeah?" she challenged. "Then try to keep it relaxed for a while. Heck, try it all week. See how nice it is not to worry about it. See how relaxed you can be; you might as well, because you'll never again get the opportunity. It's interesting to see what the body normally does that you're not even aware of. Test the limits of your consciousness this week; see how aware you are and if you can change it." Science had always attracted him, and this little experiment sounded interesting. He hardly saw the harm in it; it was just a week, after all, and it was a unique challenge. So after he was changed, he started trying to relax completely, and began to train the appropriate muscles to relax more often. It might keep the week interesting. The following morning was something he knew in advance he would *not* enjoy, as he was sure it would be the occasion of his regular bowel movement. And sure enough, right after a breakfast of pancakes, he felt the abdominal rumblings, and he excused himself to his bedroom, where at least he could have some privacy. He found he needed to squat to get it out, and as he did so, he remembered the displeasure he'd felt the first time. This time, too, the sensations that he felt were disgusting to him, utterly gross and uncomfortable. After he was done, and his diaper was full, he stood for a second trying to decide what to do now. Embarrassing as it would be to face Mrs. Williams with his messy diaper, he knew she expected it, and the sooner he was changed (and the less he moved around) the more comfortable and easier it would all be. It might be possible to get changed before his mess got all squished into his diaper. From his perspective, the easier the cleanup, the better. So he waddled into the kitchen, careful not to move his diaper's contents around too much, but he was dismayed, when he reached the kitchen, to find the lady on the phone. He caught her attention and looked at her questioningly while pointing to his diaper. She nodded, put her hand over the phone, and whispered, "I'll probably be a little while. Why don't you go sit down in the living room and I'll come change you in a few minutes?" His spirits sank. He hadn't considered having to wait. What terrible luck. He walked carefully into the den, and, not wanting to sit, stood in front of the TV, watching disinterestedly. After several minutes, he got tired of the odors wafting up toward his face, and impatient with the lady, and he wandered back to the kitchen, again standing in front of her. She looked up, and smiled indulgently. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'm not done yet. Go sit down. I'm sure that diaper will still be there in a few minutes." And then she gently turned him toward the den and patted his rear end condescendingly, inadvertently spreading his mess around a little. He grimaced at that sensation, and, exasperated, he slowly walked back to the den and stood for several more minutes before giving up. He went to the couch and gingerly sat down. He was immediately unhappy he had done so, for he exquisitely felt his bowel movement compress and expand across his bottom, the warmth spreading between his legs. He nearly gagged as he tried to picture what was happening. Fifteen minutes later his landlady strolled in and asked if he was wet. Derek hesitated. "No...It's, well, the other thing." "Ohhhh, does my little boy have a poopy diaper?" she asked in baby talk. He blushed as she held out her hand for him to take, and he self-consciously let her lead him into the changing room, where he gingerly hopped up onto the table. She saw his expression as he gently lowered himself back into his mess, and she laughed. "Relax," she teased. "There's nothing in there that will break." He couldn't laugh with her, for he felt that at the moment his ego was fairly fragile. He laid down, and nearly choked at the smell released by his actions. She, however, seemed not to notice. She lifted his legs and carefully undid his diaper. He closed his eyes, trying to pretend he wasn't there. But she wouldn't let him. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. "You were busy, weren't you? But, then, you're a big boy, and I guess big babies have big poops." She continued talking about his bowel movement, and he continued to try to ignore her as she busied herself with her task of cleaning him. In less time than he would have imagined, she was already powdering him and taping a clean diaper on. "Now that was a lot easier than having to do it yourself, wasn't it? Don't you feel better?" He had to admit that yes it was, and yes it did. And with that initiation behind him, things went more smoothly. He spent his time that week catching up on sleep, watching football on TV, reading novels. She cooked and cleaned for him, and other than the obvious embarrassment, which he found was beginning slowly to diminish, they enjoyed each other's company. Chapter 11 He didn't go out very much, mostly to rent movies for the two of them to watch. It was a pain to get ready to go, and he was terrified of being seen wearing diapers. Several things began to happen that week. One was that Derek became, if not comfortable, then at least relatively resigned to the diapers and being changed by Mrs. Williams. He had to admit it was nice not to worry about the bathroom, and he tried not to think that much about it. Consequently, the second thing that happened was that he was pretty successful training himself to relax over the course of the week. He felt secure about his diaper's ability to contain whatever he could dish out, and he began hardly to notice peeing in them. He decided that despite his complaining, the diapers *were* pretty comfortable, after all. The bowel movements were not pleasant, but they were necessary, and he decided to bear that burden as admirably as he could. Complaining wouldn't help. He just counted the days until he could do it in private again. And by the following Friday, he was wetting freely and without inhibition; there had even been many times that he'd been surprised when Mrs. Williams told him he was wet. So all in all, he spent the week relatively happy, rested, and carefree, though he was certainly ready for Saturday morning when it came. It had been interesting, but he was ready to get back to life as usual. And after the embarrassment of the whole thing, he was still definitely ready to move out. Saturday morning found him lying on the changing table having a wet diaper removed for what he was sure would the last time. He thanked her for releasing him from his disposable confines, and headed off to the shower, where he began to think about how he was going to approach his search for a new apartment. He had kept his word, and hadn't looked yet, but today was definitely the day. In his mind he made a list of areas he wanted to check out. Surely someone had a room they could rent him, and not everyone was a diaper freak, right? As he dried himself off he thought of what he might say if they asked where he had been living and for references. He knew she liked him but he didn't know whether she'd feel compelled to mention to potential landlords the bedwetting incident, or the toilet incident, and he was afraid of how embarrassing that could be if word of the whole thing got out. Somehow, he'd have to swear her to secrecy, or this attempt to move out would fail. He went to his room to dress and was as pleased not to be wearing a diaper as he was disturbed that he hadn't received his underpants back yet. He dressed without them, meaning to ask her about them later. He went to the kitchen for breakfast. They ate waffles in silence, and as they finished, he cleared his throat. "I've decided to go ahead and look for a new place," he said. "It's nothing personal, but the whole diaper situation has some serious drawbacks when it comes to socializing, you know. I've thought a lot about this, and although I like you and everything, I think I need a change." She smiled at this. "You just had one." Then she nodded seriously and asked, "What will you do about your bedwetting problem? You think that will stop just because you move or stop wearing diapers?" He hadn't thought about that. He stood and took his dishes to the sink as he said, "I don't know. But I do know it never happened once before I moved in, so I think it was just a fluke, or maybe related to stress. I've just got to trust that since I'm an adult, that kind of babyish thing won't happen again." As he finished speaking he glanced at her but saw that she wasn't looking at his face; her eyes were directed just above his knees. And then he felt it: a familiar warmth spreading through his crotch. But then he felt an unfamiliar, colder wetness spreading too. He looked down and realized in horror that he was wetting his pants! He hadn't even noticed. He gasped in shock and embarrassment, and tried to stop, but had some trouble. By the time he clamped down enough, dark streaks ran down his legs, and his shoes were wet. He couldn't do anything but stare at what he'd just done, something that hadn't happened since the first grade. He heard her say, "Looks like you've got more of a problem than you thought." "Oh, no. I...I guess it's from this week, when I tried not to hold it. Oh, shit. I trained myself to do this whenever I had to. Damn. How long will it take to train myself back? Excuse me, I've got to go..." "I think you can wait a moment," Mrs. Williams interrupted. "The damage appears to be done, and we've got some talking to do." Derek shifted weight, very uncomfortably, looking down. His legs were getting very cold. Suddenly a light flashed, and he jerked his head up. He couldn't believe it. She'd just taken a picture of him in his wet pants! He stared, dumbfounded, no longer sure of what was going on or who was in charge anymore. She smiled at him, which didn't help his confidence. "I also think we both know you're not really moving out." He tried to reassert his control over the situation. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "But I am. I'm going out looking today." "In wet pants? That'll go over big. I don't think a lot of landlords are going to be interested in a bedwetter, much less one who pees in his pants." She looked again pointedly at his crotch, which he could feel getting still colder and less comfortable. He caught himself thinking that at least when he wore diapers it felt warm and nice. He shook his head. "But I never used to do this. I don't ever remember this happening before now." "You'd have trouble convincing me of that," she laughed. "And who do you think they'd believe? Me or you?" He gasped. His mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't tell them, would you?" She paused; his heart beat wildly. "Well, you have to understand that we landlords are a closeknit bunch in this little town. We have many similar interests, financial and otherwise. I have a responsibility to share with the others any information I think they need to know. And you already know how I feel about bedwetting.” She shook her head. “So although I like you a lot, I'm afraid that's something they'd need to know." His strength waned, and he felt weak in his knees. This was disastrous. He needed her help, or at least her silence, to get a good place. Last week, that seemed likely, when she'd seemed resigned to his leaving. But this week she seemed determined to force him to stay. But she couldn't stop him if she didn't know he was trying to move out, he thought slyly. He quickly murmured something about her being right, and that he wouldn't leave, and then he tried to shuffle out of the kitchen to his room. He could sneak out and find a room before she knew it. But as he walked past, she froze him with her next revelation. "That won't work either, I'm afraid. It's too late for covert operations. You see, I asked you to wait a week before looking around not because I thought you might change your mind, but because I needed time to notify all the other landlords in town about your little problem.” Mrs. Williams smiled. “I finished that yesterday. And just as I thought, all agreed that it would be `an insurmountable barrier' to a lease. And that was before I knew about your daytime wetting problem." She shook her head. "Can you imagine what they'd say if they knew that?" He was stunned. Absolutely stunned. He knew she wanted him to stay, but he hadn't suspected that she'd lie to him and blackmail him to convince him. He didn't know whether she was telling the truth now or not, but he didn't really want to find out. To be turned down because of wetting himself would be humiliating beyond his wildest dreams. Derek was screwed, completely. He staggered back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, not wanting to sit down in his wet pants. He was silent for a moment as he made the decision, finally, to confront her. "Why in the world are you doing this to me? What kind of a crazy old woman are you? You want to ruin my life? Well, you're doing a pretty good job. What did I ever do to earn this? Why do you want to hurt me like this?" He was nearly crying now. "I don't want to hurt you," Mrs. Williams said soothingly. "Bullshit!" he yelled. "I've talked to other people. You do this every year to someone. You've got some weird thing about diapers and making people into babies. I've heard about you, you bitch. You can't deny it." She shook her head. "Those are rumors. If you'll calm down a moment, I'll tell you the truth." He stood, arms folded, waiting. Would this be another lie, or the real thing? "The truth is that I care deeply about the students that end up living here. They come into my home and become special to me. They pay the rent; in return I try to satisfy some of their needs while protecting my property like any landlord. Many of the boys I have are bedwetters, and the others I kind of `help' along one way or another. How I do that is a secret, of course." He looked confused. She'd fabricated the bedwetting incident? How? Mrs. Williams smiled at him. "Because whether you know it or not, you all have the same problem, which, of course, is that you're away from your mommy for the first time and need, on some level, to be babied a little. I know what you kids need, probably better than you, because I've seen your kind before, and I know. If they wet the bed, fine. If they don't, I find an excuse to treat them as if they did." She smiled happily at him. "I don't tell them right away what I'm doing, because I know they'd object to this kind of help if it was offered to them all at once at the beginning. So I phase it in slowly, and when I feel that they're ready for it all, *then* I tell them what's going on." With a proud smile, she said, "And now it's your turn." "Turn for what? I don't need any help," he asked angrily. "Well, the fact of the matter is," she began slowly, staring straight into his flushed and angry face, "that you're going to be my baby for a while, and I'll serve as your mommy in this town, until I feel that you've adjusted enough to this college atmosphere that you don't need my help anymore. I'll be honest: that could be several weeks, or it could last the whole time you're here at school. I can't tell at this point." "Are you insane?" Derek asked incredulously. "What makes you think I want this or will let this happen?" "It's pretty simple," she said calmly. "Everything we've done up to this point, the diapers, the changings, everything, has just been practice. Sort of an orientation for what lies ahead. Most boys have the most problem with the diapers, so I tried to phase them in gradually. And you willingly accepted them at every stage, even up through last week, when you wore them all the time, like you will from now on." Mrs. Williams paused and then answered his question. "You see, I'm sure this is what's right for you, so I made sure that it didn't really matter *how* you felt, or if you wanted to do it. It doesn't matter at all what you want. We've come this far, and I won't let all that time and energy be wasted. There is no turning back now.” She sipped her coffee. “When you gave me your underpants last week, I took them all to the Salvation Army," she told him. "It's all over, and, in fact, it has been all over since you signed your lease." "Wanna bet?" Derek challenged. "You're crazy, and I'm getting out of here. I don't care what you've told the other landlords. When I explain to them what happened, they'll understand. It'll be a little embarrassing, but nothing compared to what happens if I stay with you! See ya." And he stormed quickly from the room. Mrs. Williams caught up with him in his room as he was getting out some clean jeans and socks. "I understand how you feel," she said, "but I still don't think you'll leave. I don't think you want me posting these fliers all over campus." She handed him a page that said: ."LOST!! This year's baby from 1169 Oak St.! May be seen wearing diapers, plastic training pants, which may be wet or dirty. If found, please return to his mommy. He's been very bad, and he needs a spanking!" And under the words were a picture of him in a diaper and the plastic pants, apparently taken when he was asleep, with his name and physical description. He grabbed it angrily, tore it into as many pieces as he could, and threw it onto the floor. "I've got lots more," she said quietly. With a wave of despair Derek realized she'd won. He couldn't leave, not without sacrificing his friends, shelter, and dignity. He thought briefly about leaving college, but the thought of that was even more absurd. Where would he go? His cold, wet pants only added to his misery. He sat down on his desk chair with an uncomfortable squish, and asked through tears, "Why do you hate me?" He thought about the past several months, when he had trusted her, thinking she was just a little weird, thinking he was really *choosing* to play her game for a while, when all the time she was deceiving and manipulating him, trapping and humiliating him. Mrs. Williams stood next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Oh, sweetie, I don't hate you. On the contrary, I care very much about you. But I had to do this to you because it's so obviously what you need, what will be good for you. Someday I'm sure you'll thank me, but you've just got to trust me for now. It won't be so bad, you'll see. You've already gotten through most of the worst, I promise. And once you accept it, it'll make it a lot easier, too." She talked softly to him, comforting him with a maternal flair that was honed by years of practice. He'd stopped crying by now. "How long do I have to wear diapers *this* time?" he asked sadly. "Like I told you, I'm not sure. At least through the end of this semester, but probably longer. There's a good chance you'll wear them for your whole four years here. We'll just have to take it a day at a time." He sat in silence for a moment, shaking his head slowly and trying to let his situation sink in. "I can't believe I have to wear diapers again." She nodded sympathetically. "Most boys think that they're worse than the other stuff, but you'll get used to it all." Derek looked at her, worried. "What other stuff?" "Oh, do you want to go over it now?" she asked. "Well, I guess we should." "*What* other stuff? There's more?!" he asked unhappily. He'd missed this point somehow. "Oh, yes, sweetie. Diapers are only one part of being a baby," she laughed. "For starters, I don't know if you noticed the attachments on the bed for railings, but it's a pretty secure crib when we get it put together. “Then there are the clothes, which are just darling. They were made by some of my retired friends, who love to see them modeled each year; they've been dying to meet you, but, of course, I've had to wait to introduce you until after today. I've also got some lovely footed sleepers with wrist ties, some toddler pants complete with snaps...you'll love them. “I've also got a nice high chair we need to bring down from the attic, where I stored your changing table, and some pretty bibs. We'll need to get those cupboard locks back out, because you may not like your new diet, which will change kind of drastically. And the bathrooms will stay locked, of course, but that won't be a problem, since you won't have to bathe yourself anymore. You'll love some of the toys I've accumulated; you'll spend countless hours playing with them in your playpen, I'm sure." Mrs. Williams smiled at him as he sat in shock. "I know it's a lot to take in, but if you got through the diapers, you should get through this eventually." Derek just sat there, in shock, his world spinning around him. What would that sophomore girl say? Somehow he didn't think he stood much of a chance to date her now. And his parents and friends: how could he keep this a secret? "Well, let's get those wet pants off of you. She led him into the changing room and helped him remove the sopping jeans. She used baby wipes to dry him as he stood there, overwhelmed with shame at not having noticed his babification over the past several months. How could this have happened? How would he ever endure? She interrupted his musings as she sat on the edge of the room's only chair, saying: "One more thing. You've said several naughty words recently, and you tried to lie to me about not moving out a little while ago, so I think it's time you got acquainted with an important concept in a baby's life: discipline." Mrs. Williams sat on the chair and patted her knees expectantly, indicating that he take the appropriate position over them. Derek shook his head sadly and his eyes teared up as he slowly walked over to her.

So, a year ago I started to write a story and got a few chapters in but a really bad experience killed any drive to do anything related to this fetish. So, a year later I've gotten over it and decided to reboot the story by releasing a chapter once a week. I have up to Chapter 7 done and hopefully won't get caught up on posting vs writing. If that happens, posting might slow down but I will finish this story. It's very much a basic AF diaper fap story so don't expect a masterpiece. Hopefully it reads well and all criticism/feedback is welcome. Formatting on this forum is odd so I apologize if it looks odd. I'm rewriting the previous version of this story and trying to make fatter chapters out of the previous ones. Enjoy. Hard Reset Chapter One: The Meeting The Anderson's took three months to search orphanages across the country, three months to find the perfect girl. The main problem for them was her age, she was almost an adult and able to discharge herself without being adopted. Being months away from eighteen also makes the legal process harder as well, considering it can anywhere between nine months to many years for the process to actually go through. Not to mention, she would need to agree to the adoption as well, which is something they needed to pursue first. Their chosen candidate was named Alex. She was small for someone her age, at a massive 4’10” she was towering over toddlers and not much else. Having a slender “bean pole” build was also a major factor in the Anderson's decision that she was the one they wanted. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson where both in their early forties and loaded, if their initial meeting went poorly then they could easily grease the wheels to make it work regardless. They were going to get their girl, one way or another… Alex shut the door to her room, sighing as she tossed her backpack in the corner of the room. She walked over to her bed and collapsed face first. She was burned out and wanted to decompress after her final week of exams. She was alone and she knew that the three other girls she shared the room with wouldn’t be home until later in the day. She was done with high school, although being delayed for a rather long time because of the reason she was orphaned in the first place. She knew she would be out of this place in a few months and fully independent. She took the opportunity to change into a pair of black sweat pants and a black t-shirt and laid back down on the bottom bunk. Now that she was more comfortable, she grabbed her phone and started browsing the internet for something to help her relax. Double checking that she was alone, she slipped her hand down her pants and disappeared into fantasy land. She was almost there when the door to the room flew open, a grey haired woman stood in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear. Alex pulled her hand from her pants just in time. Her face was flush but Mrs. Cooper, the head of the care home, seemed oblivious of what she was doing. “Alex, I have a big surprise for you!” She said “Come with me!” extending her hand. Her heart pounding at the sudden exposure, Alex hesitated. “Right now?” she managed to squeak out. “Yes, right now.” Mrs. Cooper lost her smile and stared right at her. “Take a moment to get cleaned up, and put something nice on.” Alex didn’t argue, she slowly got off the bed. Still in mini panic mode of almost getting caught with her hand down her pants. Taking a clean skirt out of her dresser, she slowly walked up to her caretaker with the intent of going closing the door to change. As she got close, Mrs. Cooper put her hand on her chest and looked her right in the eye. At almost six feet, the older women towered over her. With the heat still in her pants, the prolonged stare was the last thing she needed. Mrs. Cooper walked over the dresser and grabbed a large hair brush and hairband. Returning to the smaller girl, she grabbed her long black hair and roughly put it into a pony tail. Putting the hair brush back, she took the girls wrist in her own hand and practically dragged to out the door. Walking down the hallway, she quickly realized what she was being led to. She was going to be made to change in the group bathroom while Mrs. Cooper was going to be waiting outside the stall. This was to prompt expediency and she knew it. “A nice couple is looking to adopt you.” Mrs. Cooper said while Alex was quickly changing in the isolated stall. “You’ll be on your best behavior or you’ll regret it.” This was a surprise, it was a waste of time considering she was close to being a legal adult. She wasn’t given the opportunity to be adopted in a long time because of her age. Having declined all of the potential parents, a lot of families just stopped trying to adopt her based on that alone. She just wanted to be out on her own, she was so close and she didn’t understand why Mrs. Cooper was even bothering to try one last time. Once changed, she was once again led by the hand to the interview room. Mrs. Cooper stopped right before entering and did a few more things in an attempt to clean Alex up. With a somewhat heavy sigh, she put her hand behind Alex and guided her into the room. There were two people sitting at the table in the middle of the room. A larger man and a women about same size as Mrs. Cooper, both looked like they were straight out of the 50s. He was in a black business suit, sporting a dark red tie. The lady looked like one of those women on a World War II propaganda poster. Her brown hair done up with large curls that looked like she emptied a can of hairspray just to keep the shape. A red and white poke-a-dot dress, bridge red lipstick and a white furry number covering her shoulders. Alex was guiding to a chair in front of the two strangers. Sitting down, she just stared at the table. The large windows of the room where open, letting in the sounds of the city flood the room. Car horns, sirens and engine sounds added to the ambiance to the otherwise awkward moment. “I’m Martha Anderson.” She women in the red dress said sweetly “And this is my husband Thomas.” She gestured to the suited man. “We’re really glad to finally meet you Alex, we’ve been looking forward to this moment for months.” Thomas said with a mild grin. “I’m not interested” Alex said bluntly, not taking her eyes off the table. “That’s not how you talk to an adult Alex. Look at them when you’re talking.” Mrs. Cooper interjected. “I said I’m not interested, I’m almost old enough to be on my own and I don’t need to be adopted.” Alex said coldly, still looking at the table. “If you’re not interested, you’re not interested.” Thomas said. “We won’t force the issue. I believe we’re done here.” He said looking at Mrs. Cooper. The couple got up with Thomas gesturing to his wife to take a lead. “I’m sorry about that Mr. Anderson, she is too stubborn for her own good.” Mrs. Cooper said. “I’ll go talk to her, let her know the possibilities you can provide her.” Mrs. Cooper said apologetically as they continued to leave. “Thank you, there is no need. We’ll just go with the other option” Mr. Anderson said. “I’ll be in touch.” Letting the moment breath, Mrs. Cooper standing in the doorway, shot Alex a stern look before walking off. She headed towards Alex’s room with the girl slowly following behind. Stopping in front of the door, she looked directly at Alex. “The other girls won’t be staying in this room tonight, take the time to reflect on the opportunity you just gave up.” She sighed, putting he hand on her face. “I made you some food earlier and left it in fridge, I don’t want to see you out of your room tonight, you’re lucky I already made that food or you wouldn’t be eating tonight.” With that, she turned around and left, clearly in a foul mood. Alex didn’t say anything as her walked away. Alex was looking forward to being left alone and returned to her previous activity prior to being interrupted. Alex took care of herself in record time. After laying there, staring at the bunk above her, the tingling having left her body, her stomach was letting her know it was food time. She went to the kitchen and grabbed the plastic container out of the fridge with her name on it. She opened it up to reveal a surprising good looking chili. After heating it up, she went back to her room and began to dig in. She was almost done when she started to feel drowsy. Standing up, she felt really dizzy, she sat back down right where she was, on the floor, with a thud. Her vision was starting to get blurry, a buzzing was enveloping in her ears, and then she couldn’t see at all, everything was going dark.

Hello guys! Just a short story I was itching to write for some days. It's two chapters, I'll release the first now and the second later on (It's already written so don't worry) depending on the comments I receive. Please let me know your thoughts, I am open to any criticism or discussion since I want to improve my writing. Also, fair warning, I might have gone just a little bit overboard with this one... but you'll let me know what you think The Terminal – Part 1 “Dlin-Dlon!” the sound could be heard all over the terminal through the numerous speakers. “Attention to all passengers, the flight A145EJ3 departing from Perdide (Catalon) and directed to Aokawa-shi (Yamatoa) will be delayed by an hour due to technical issues. We apologize for the inconvenience” “Great” Nora thought slowly slumping towards the floor from the wall she was leaning on. The loud crinkle of her diaper warned her that she had made full contact with the cold marble. She remained still for a few seconds, legs spread wide. The padding pressed against her crotch and bottom had obviously swelled and was cold and clammy. She didn’t even notice she had wet herself during the wait. They had been waiting at this terminal for at least three hours, so no wonder. She grunted around her pacifier, closing and bending her legs to hoist herself up, but the now thicker padding of her diaper didn’t let her, her legs spread too far and too wide to get enough leverage. So, she jerked forward, her hands on the floor assuming for a brief moment a crawling position, her heavily padded bottom up in the air before clumsily getting on her two feet. She looked around one more time, the airport was crowded with amazons coming from all over the continent. The holiday season had just begun, so everyone was moving away from the big city towards their preferred holiday destination. A bit more than a half of the Amazons she saw had Littles with them. They carried them in their arms, strapped in carriers, baby seats or strollers, tugged them around in leashes. She saw an amazon woman pass in front of her, she was pushing what seemed like a mesh-walled playpen on wheels. Inside, four Little girls in matching hairstyle all clad in only their thick crawler diapers were eyeing all around with a bewildered expression. Their chubby bodies leaned towards the too tall sides of their cage. Faces pressed against the mesh walls, sucking wildly on their pacifiers. The woman looking down at them with a loving expression. Nora watched them pass by, thinking there could always be a worse situation than her own. She let out a nervous chuckle looking down. She could barely see her thighs with her thick diaper. Her legs and feet naked since the only clothing she was allowed at the moment was a tight yellow T-shirt that barely reached her bellybutton. Her hands reached to her back, feeling her leash tightly attached to her full body harness. Two straps reaching up her shoulders, two more went around her hips, covering up the entire waistband of her diaper, and, for further humiliation the last strap stretching down her crotch, encompassing the curve of her diaper, pressing the wet padding against her skin, meeting with the others at her belly, where a single bright red button held everything together. She shuffled on her feet, her tiny hands grabbing the plastic around the red button. Mommy had tightened her harness too much as always, she couldn’t even squeeze one of her fingers under the straps. She was aware every single strap that encased her, the sensation was even worse than having a wet diaper locked around her hips, at least she was accustomed to that. She lifted her gaze, following the leash that sprouted from the back of her harness and kept on going for several feet, ending up tightly tied to a baby huge baby seat, ensuring that she could not roam too far. Mommy was still sat on one of the numerous armchairs the airport made available for the waiting passengers. She was talking to another amazon woman, Nora didn’t know her, probably a friend from work. Seeing her amazon parent distracted, Nora grabbed more tightly the plastic around the cursed red button on her belly, starting to shake it up and down, fiddling with the button at the same time. She knew she wouldn’t be able to free herself from the harness or the leash, and even if she did, what would she have done after? Even if she had managed to waddle far from Mommy taking advantage of her distraction, the airport was full of cameras and security. She would have been brought back in a matter of minutes, earning a spanking, or worse, for all her troubles. But maybe if she managed to press the button just a little, just to allow the straps to loosen up a bit, she would have been more comfortable. She kept fiddling with the harness, her brow furrowed, chewing loudly on her pacifier, not to avail. In the end she let out a frustrated sigh and decided to give up. She was rapidly growing bored, there was nothing to do in there! Mommy had given her some mashed bananas as a snack and a rattle to keep herself entertained but, obviously, she had rapidly grown bored of that. Smiling she waddled towards the armchair. Mommy was still absorbed in her conversation, disturbing her wasn’t wise. Instead, she made a beeline and ended up facing the baby seat set on the ground, looking down at the occupant inside. There, laying on her back, naked except for her huge crawler diaper, was her little “sister” Evie. The Little girl squirmed upon seeing her looming over the baby seat, but the five-point harness straps, tightened as much or even more than Nora’s, held her perfectly still so the only thing she was able to do was uselessly flail her arms and legs, her eyes darting at her, full of hate. Nora smiled. There was a time, a few years of captivity ago, when Evie was the “big” sister, allowed to walk around in waddler diapers ad fed solid food while Nora was kept in crawlers, her speech non-existent due to the ever present inflatable pacifier that was taken out only during her feedings, and not always even. But now the tables had turned. She had worked her diapered ass off, thanking Mommy whenever she allowed her to talk, convincing her that she was a good girl until she allowed her to grow up. Evie was not happy to have taken her place, but she had always been a bitch, so she deserved it. Nora didn’t know if or when Mommy would change her mind, regressing her back to a crawler and allowing her “sister” to grow up again, but she was determined to make the most of her advantaged situation right now. Smiling, she bent forward, almost coming face to face with her bound sister. Her kicking legs kept too far apart, spread by the huge crawler to be a danger to her. Slowly, theatrically she took out her pacifier, just to show her that she could, a line of drool connecting the non-inflated nipple to her lips. “Hi Evie!” she grinned, receiving only muffled gibberish in response “You’re awake!” They had been waiting at the airport for several hours, and her sister’s diaper clearly showed that. Even through the thick padding, a yellow hue was clearly distinguishable at the front of the diaper, while a brown silouhette peeked from the bottom. “Wheeww you stink, baby!” she said pinching her nose. It wasn’t true, almost no smell made through the humongous padding of the crawler diapers, but anything to torture Evie even a bit more. “It’s a pity you woke up, the flight was delayed, again” she explained, ever smiling “So we hafta wait for a lot more, and I’m bored” “Maybe you can help me with that” she grinned, and with both her hands she grasped the handle of the baby seat, starting to shake it back and forth. Evie let out an outraged muffled yelp, as she was jumbled up and down by the carrier’s rocking movement, the straps around her digging into her, mushing the full diaper violently against her skin. “We hafta wait at least an hour, and I’m happy to rock my little sister to sleep for as loong as I can” Nora laughed, rocking with gusto. She kept on going for two full minutes, Evie’s face having reached a loving green complexion when she stumbled backwards, feeling a tug on her leash. “Nora!” she heard a deep female voice calling her from her side “Come here sweetie” She turned, Mommy was still sat with her friend, but now they were both directing her attention towards her, Mommy holding the other end of her leash, smiling expectantly. “Come on baby!” she said giving another gentle but firm tug “Come to Mommy” Immediately Nora let go of the baby seat, leaving her sister mumbling and flailing around to deal with the residue of the inertial rocking. Nervously, she waddled towards the amazons, plastering her face with the most cute and innocent expression she could manage. “There she is” the other amazon woman smiled as she approached “What a cutie” “She is, isn’t she?” Mommy answered politely, unlocking Nora’s harness with ease by pushing the unmovable button, letting the straps fall on the ground as she easily grabbed the Little by her armpits, turning her around with her back against them. Nora felt Mommy’s giant hand hooking her frilly T-shirt and hoisting it up, leaving her naked back exposed to the gaze of the Amazons. She frowned, it was not like she hadn’t been exposed to others in worst ways, she thought of diaper changes in public spaces for example, but that was weird. “See that?” she heard Mommy’s voice behind her, feeling the Amazon’s fingers touch her skin just below her nape. “Hmmhmm” she heard the other amazon say, now a second hand touching her “Those white spots have appeared a week ago” she heard Mommy saying “Usually she hasn’t had any problems, besides diaper rashes, but I’m worried it might be some kind of fungus” Nora stayed perfectly still, the back of her T-shirt wrapped around her head, shivering at the giant’s touch on her back as her skin was carefully inspected by the Amazons. She had no idea of what they were talking about, but she had learned that in this case it was better not to ask questions. “It sure could be” she heard the other amazon woman reflecting “I’ll recommend you a cream to apply during the evening, she shouldn’t have any issue after a week of treatment” “You’re a lifesaver!” Mommy thanked, adjusting her T-shirt back and starting to collect the harness from the ground “No problem, here, let me help” the other woman said Nora stood still, whimpering, as the two Amazons busied themselves around her, adjusting the straps around her shoulders, hips and crotch, before fastening them up again, even tighter than before. “Oh, I wonder if you heard about the new Littles travel policies for 8 hours or longer flights” the other woman conversed while working on one of the straps “No, first time I’m hearing this” said Mommy worried, while casually hooking the back of Nora’s diaper to check her “No big deal, they released a few more precautions to make sure childless passengers aren’t bothered by the smell of dirty diapers during long flights, unfortunately these days the planes are packed with littles and one single changing room on the plane is not enough, so they’ve released a special kit for these situations” the other woman explained “I’ve picked up an extra one for you, inside you’ll find all that you need and the instructions” “Thanks a lot!” Mommy smiled standing up, picking Evie’s baby seat in one hand, Nora’s leash in the other. “I’d better go get these two little girls sorted out then! I don’t want to miss the flight because of that” She said, giving a tug on the leash, ordering Nora to follow up. But the Little girl didn’t move. Suddenly, a cramp hit her, as she felt the contents of her bowels rapidly shifting downward. She immediately put the pacifier back in her mouth and started sucking noisily at it, clenching her fists. “Nora!” Mommy reprimanded, her voice sounding clearly annoyed “Do we need a spanking or…” But Mommy stopped as she saw Nora’s knees bending, her legs spreading, face already turning of a faint crimson. “What’s the matter?” the other Amazon inquired “Somebody has a poopy face” Mommy replied amused But Nora almost didn’t hear them as she simply bore down as another cramp manifested, her face scrunched, already feeling the semi-solid waste oozing down from her bottom and landing in the back of her diaper with a loud crinkle. It was all over in a matter of seconds, the cramps stopped and she was left mildly dazed, her head spinning as she looked up pitifully at the two smiling amazons, her swollen diaper now feeling much heavier. “She’s lucky we are headed straight for the changing room. Usually she stays in her dirty diapers much longer. I’ll let her finish up on the way. I’ll see you later!” “Perfectly understandable” the other woman replied knowingly, waving her hand to say goodbye “They’re Littles, after all” Nora felt another tug on the leash, and desperately started waddling behind Mommy, her diapered bottom wriggling as she followed the amazon deeper inside the airport.

BB’S Nursery and Day Care Chapter 1 It was 11pm on a Saturday night and Tommy had been a high school graduate for little over 9 hours having walked across the Townsfield High stage around earlier in the day. He was happy high school was over. He was happy to be off to college in a couple of months. He was also a bit drunk. His best and really only friend was leaving in the morning for Air Force basic training. His Friend Brad had always wanted to be a pilot and fly anything that the Air Force would let him. They shared that dream until it was obvious that Tommy would not be meeting any minimum physical requirements. Brad was 6’2”, athletic and super smart while Tommy stopped growing at 5’ unlike his father who was over 6 ft. tall. Not that Tommy wasn’t smart, he was, and he was also in good shape. He just didn’t fit the pilot mold. No amount of exercising was going to add those extra inches and he let that dream die last summer and buckled down on college. He did not begrudge his friend his dreams. He was very happy for Brad. Tommy learned to accept a different dream. If he couldn’t fly planes then he could go to school and learn to design them. Once the summer was over he was going to Stanford on a full ride scholarship that he worked his butt off to earn. There was a lot a school in front of him but it was exciting. Neither Brad nor Tommy had really ever drank before. Heavy drinking parties were not on the agenda for their future and they turned down most of the invitations or left early from the last semester’s parties. So Tommy was not aware of how several shots of stolen Tequila from the liquor cabinet in Brad's dad’s home office would slow down his reflexes and give him a slight fuzziness. He felt good, real good and did not notice any real impairment. Brad had to be up and on the way to the airport by 5am so they hugged it out, promised to e-mail when they could and Tommy headed home. Tommy drove well. Only a seasoned officer would have noticed anything and probably let it go. He lived in a small subdivision of nice homes on large lots and was close to home when the large grey tabby cat darted in front of him. Caught by surprise he swerved to the right and tapped the brakes. No problem. At least that was what he planned to do. He swerved to the right and instead of tapping the breaks he nicked the accelerator. The car, his Mom’s car, shot forward and into the adjacent yard. The impact with the curb yanked the wheel from his hands and the car slewed sideways. The car ripped through a long length of pristine white fencing, crushed all of Mrs. Nelson’s award winning roses, clipped the backend of the sky blue Mercedes parked in the driveway and came to an airbag deploying stop against a moderately sized oak tree. The cat watched the whole event with the detachment that only a cat can really display then sauntered off into the night not aware of, or caring about the life altering events it had just precipitated. Tommy was stunned first by the impact with the tree. Then the airbag went off. Both hit as one as far as Tommy ever remembered. He was stunned, not quite unconscious but only vaguely aware that the engine had shut off and the only real noise was the ticking of the engine and some hissing noise as the engine coolant leaked out on to hot engine parts. He was jerked into more awareness as his door was opened and the scared angry face of Mrs. Nelson appeared. Mrs. Nelson was just shutting off the living room lights in preparation for bed when she heard what sounded like a major collision happening in her front yard. She grabbed her phone and hurried to the front door. She stared in shock at how much damage could be done to her yard so quickly. Her rose bushes were flattened, the fence she and James Wilder built twelve years ago was in splinters and her car’s rear lights were smashed. She did not recognize the car in the dark poorly lighted yard. Steam billowed up from the engine as she approached the car. She was angry and scared as she looked through the window. The driver was still and it looked like blood was dripping from the driver’s forehead. She opened the door ready to yell at the driver. "What do you....." she started yelling. She never finished her sentence as the driver looked up at her and she knew that face well. Her anger was instantly replaced with concern. "Tommy" she gasped. "Tommy are you ok?" Tommy knew Mrs. Nelson well. She was a family friend. He spent many a summer hour mowing her lawn and doing odd jobs for her over the years. "I think so" he stuttered his head slowly clearing. Then he panicked. "Mrs. Nelson are you ok? I didn't hurt anybody did I?" he almost yelled. "No, my boy you only hurt some stuff. Nobody was around to be hurt." She replied with a slight smile. Just like Tommy to worry about others first. "Just stay still, don't try to get out of the car. You could be more hurt then you know". She reached for the phone but stopped short of dialing 911. Still far in the distance she could hear the sirens. Knowing her neighbors someone had called 911 before she could even leave the house. She pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his cut forehead and had him hold it tight. As the sirens grew louder she heard Tommy begin to sniffle a bit. "I'm so sorry about you flowers Mrs. Nelson, I know how much you love them". "It ok Tommy, they are only flowers. You are more important right now" she said giving him a peck on the cheek. The ambulance arrived first, followed by the fire truck and a police car. The paramedic gently but firmly pushed Mrs. Nelson out of the way as she tended to Tommy and started asking questions. Mrs. Nelson let herself fade to the back of the crowd. She had smelled the alcohol on Tommy’s breathe. She knew where this going to go. She headed into the house. Mrs. Nelson had a call to make and some preparations to take care of. She already knew what was needed to be done and got started right away. As the door shut behind her she thought about how tired she was of roses anyway. Might be time for some daisies and lilies. +++++++++++++++ James and his wife April were coming back from date night dinner, movie and some serious parking lot kissing and heavy petting. Both were looking forward to continuing the evening in the privacy and comfort of the bedroom. As the neared the house they could see the lights of a police car and an ambulance in front of Mrs. Nelsons house. You could see the shattered fence and flattened rose bushes. James thought to himself that the poor sorry bastard that did that was in for a world of hurt as Mrs.’s Nelson loved those flowers and the awards given out each year for the Counties best roses. James heard a gasp next him and April shouted “Stop the car, its Tommy!” Even before the car stopped moving April was out of the car and running to the ambulance. Tommy was visible sitting at the rear of the ambulance while a paramedic was holding something up to his forehead. April slipped by the police officer and the paramedic (like only a determined mother can) and was soon hugging her son to her chest and peppering the paramedic with questions about Tommy’s obviously cut forehead. James quickly parked the car and headed for the ambulance. Before he got there he heard Officer Benton call out “Mr. Wilder can I speak with you for a moment, Please?” James turned and waited as the police officer walked up to him. He knew Officer Rick Benton from bowling leagues James and April participated in over the years. He barely opened his mouth before Rick said “Relax, Tommy is ok, just a little cut from the airbag. Nobody else was involved, nobody else got hurt.” James shoulders slumped a little as the tension left him with a relived sigh. Continuing Rick said “You can take him home now but I need you to come back right away, we need to talk charges.” “What…why?” James stuttered shocked and scared all over again for his son. “When I got here there was strong smell of alcohol from Tommy, I had no option but to give him a breathalyzer test. He failed, just barely but he failed. Normally he would be ticketed for DUI, reckless driving and destruction of private property and maybe hauled in for the night, but Tommy has been very cooperative so that won’t be necessary” Rick said softly. “Drinking, Tommy? Are you sure? It does not sound like him.” James replied hoping that it was some big mistake. “This will sink his scholarship, everything he’s worked for” his voice rising in pitch as his stress and anxiety shot through the roof. “Calm down James” he said reaching out and grabbing James’s shoulder. “Everything is going to be ok. Take him home and come back and we can talk more.” James nodded, squared his shoulders and went and gathered up his wife and son in a big hug before leading them to the car and home. The ride home was silent and very short. April took Tommy to his room to get into some pajamas. Then after a quick trip to the bathroom he was tucked into his bed and due to the pain pills the paramedic gave him he was asleep almost before his Mom closed the bedroom door. ++++++++++++++++++++++ James quickly returned to Mrs. Nelson’s house. The ambulance was gone along with all the concerned neighbors. It was quiet as James entered the yard and saw both Rick and Mrs. Nelson talking on the house porch. Mrs. Nelson looked at James as he crossed the yard. She knew this next bit was going to be hard on James and she had already made arrangements in the house for after the police officer had left. “Good news James, Mrs. Nelson, and Judge Sanderson have already worked out a community service agreement” Rick said smiling. He loved it when something could worked out so that young people get a second chance without screwing their lives up first. “Tommy will need to work off the car repairs at some daycare Mrs. Nelson used to work for before she retired. After that any additional money will be toward fence repair. On the weekends Tommy will work as Mrs. Nelson’s gardener until the rose garden is either repaired or replaced. As long as the Judge hears a positive response from Mrs. Nelson by August 14 confirming that Tommy has met his obligations he will have all charges dropped. My understanding is that this will give Tommy 2 weeks to get Stanford and start his college life” Rick said slapping James on the back. “I have got to go but someone will around with the paperwork from the Judge sometime tomorrow. I will need everyone to sign it. Like I said everything will be ok James” He said cheerfully. As he walked away he stated “You must know the Judge well to call so late at night Mrs. Nelson. Must be a real friend.” “We worked together a long time ago when we graduated college together” she answered never taking her eyes from James’s face. As the cop car rolled away the tears started to fall from James’s eyes and their apparent age dipped with every tear. James’s voice rose in pitch as he cried “My Tommy, my baby, how could you do this to him?” Mrs. Nelson reached out and took him by the hand and gently led her into the house. “Let’s talk inside Janice, we do not need to be having this talk on the front porch” she said softly and gently like you would to an emotional child. Janice slipped a comforting thumb into her mouth and mumbled a sob filled “Ok, Nanny” and let herself be pulled into the house. When the front door was closed she gently guided Janice into the kitchen where she plucked a towel of the counter and large pink plastic baby bottle filled with milk from a bottle warmer. The milk was nicely warmed up from its frozen state. Once she knew it was Tommy that crashed into her yard she knew that Janice would need comforting and had removed a pouch of frozen breast milk she kept for these type occasions. The last such occasion being 2 years ago when James’s wife April had the breast cancer scare. Turned out to be benign but still caused several sleepless night before the diagnosis. She walked down a hallway and began unbuttoning her blouse as she went. “Janice, please follow me to the nursery” she called lightly over shoulder. Still sniffling and trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears she said “I’m coming Nanny” the voice sounding all world like a 5 year old girl. Mrs. Nelson entered the nursery and sat on the upper cushion of a two tiered couch. She had the couch made many years ago for Janice and herself. While she long ago stopped lactating the simple act of suckling was an important bond between them, Nanny and child. She laid her bra and blouse over the arm of the couch as Janice settled her large form onto the larger lower portion. Now fully in Nanny mode she guided Janice’s head to her chest and sighed as Janice’s mouth closed on her nipple. The soft gentle sucking motion calmed the child inside and soon the tears and the sniffling began to slow. Nanny stroked her hair and told her over and over “Everything was going to be alright baby, calm down sweetie, Nanny loves you” and other loving soothing words. The tears and the trembling finally stopped. “Are you thinking about Tina again?” a slight nod. Not ready to give up her comforting nipple to answer with words. “Tommy is not Tina, Tina came from a broken family, a horrible family. She decided that staying a baby was safer. She was so loved by her Nannies and taken care. She found people who loved her for the first time in her entire life. You know the program is very different now. After you and Tina we changed everything. Tommy will have a wonderful summer being Tammi Lee and I promise she will spend most of it as my little granddaughter. She will fine. I promise.” Nanny said as she gently stroked Janice’s cheek. “He will leave to Stanford and be Tommy through and through. A bit wiser and with a new prospective on women. But will be Tommy not Tammi.” A short pause and then “Are you ready for your Baba?” Janice let the nipple slip from her mouth. With a little smile she cooed “Yes Nanna, Baba..Baba”. Nanny smiled and held the bottle for Janice. Janice closed her eyes and started to drink the warm breast milk. It was comfort and peace. There were several wet nurse Nannies working for BB’s so getting fresh breast milk was never really an issue. Watching the child drinking her milk filled Nanny with the ever present worry of whether or not Janice would be able to pick up the outer layers of James again. This was not like two people living in the same body. At the heart of James was Janice, a five year girl (with some baby tendencies when feeling a lot of stress and anxieties) that can’t grow up. But Janice was smart, with a lot of practice and training and tears she was able to pull James around her like a coat and allow herself to be the grown up man she would have been if she never would have been sent to BB’s so long ago. She wanted more than being a five year old girl but couldn’t grow up. What was done to her so long ago locked her in place. But by wearing her James coat and pretending to grow up she was able to go to college and use her big brain to become an engineer. She even fell in love with April and had a family. It was a complicated balance of who she was before the regression, who she became at BB’s and who she wanted to be. All under the watchful eye of her Nanny. Janice was her responsibility and she would always be there for her. Always. When her bottle was finished Nanny used her towel to wipe a little slobber and milk from Janice’s lips and urged the child to sit up. “Mommy April will be mad when she finds out what you want to do to Tommy Nanny” she said quietly and with trepidation. “Don’t worry child, your mommy will be fine with it eventually. It will be my problem. You just be the supportive husband and father you always are.” “Yes, Nanny.” They got up and Mrs. Nelson slipped her blouse back on and buttoned it up. “Go ahead and kiss your friends good night, you need to get back home soon”. Janice clapped her hands together and skipped across her nursery. While she rarely needed to spend time in it anymore. It was undoubtedly hers. The last time she slept in the crib and was diapered for the evening was when Mommy April was diagnosed with cancer and Janice couldn’t face the thought of losing her Mommy/Wife. She regressed and needed an evening of being the baby without cares or worries. She reached into the overly large crib and pulled up a fairly beat up stuffed bear. It was her bear from before she became Janice. Her real mommy bought that for her when she was actually five years old and she loved it. It was a Smokey the bear stuffy. His hat and shovel were long gone to the years that have passed but the often repaired bear was very huggable. She hugged the bear and gave it a kiss and said “I luv you smokie.” She then tucked it back under the blanket and then picked up her Raggedy Ann doll. This doll was the doll she was forced to carry around long ago when she arrived at BB’s. She fell in love with it eventually. Annie became a friend and confidant over the years. She listened to problems and issues that Janice was not comfortable sharing with Smokie, some things just can’t be shared with boys. She hugged the doll close and whispered “Please take care of Tommy, I love him so much and want him to be the boy I could never be” louder she said “Goodnight Annie, luv you too.” Janice walked out of the nursery, slowly pulling on her James layers. She needed to get home. She had a wife that would need comforting and support for tomorrow. Back in the living room James leaned over and kissed Mrs. Nelson’s cheek. “Goodnight Edna, please take care of my Tommy” James whispered his voice already deepening. Using her first name was a bit of a ritual between them. Only James would be comfortable enough to use it. It was one of the harder things for Janice to do and it was one of the last layers of her James coat. “I will James. Give this card to your wife and tell her to be there tomorrow at 9am.” She said handing James a business card that read BB’s Nursery and Daycare and had the address and the name of the current Nursery Director Ms. Valentine. “The day care van will be there to pick up Tommy at 11:00 am. Take the time to reassure Tommy that everything will be ok. If you wish to tell him you went through something like this when you got in trouble with the law go ahead. Above all stress that it is important for him to do as he is told and things will go much easier for him. “Don’t give him any hints on what is coming. He won’t understand.” She reached up and stroked James‘s cheek and said “Don’t worry everything will be ok.” With that last statement she gently pushed him out the door. +++++++++++++++++++++ James walked home with a heavy heart. He was scared but he also knew that Nanny (always Nanny in his mind anyway) would take care of Tommy. He refused to let memories of those days at BB’s overwhelm him. He had to be strong for April. He opened the door and was immediately slammed into by a slightly hysterical April. “I have been waiting for you, what took so long?” she cried as she wrapped him up tight. He led her to the couch were they sat in almost a complete reverse of his time at Mrs. Nelson’s house. He held her tight and ran his fingers through her long blond hair. His turn give comfort and love. He kissed a few tears away. “Tommy failed his sobriety test. I guess he must have been drinking at some graduation event or something. Combine that with the accident and he is lucky he’s not spending the night in Jail” James states with a sigh. “I don’t believe it. Tommy is not some wild boy out drinking it up. They probably don’t know how use the damn breathalyzer. Just trying to make an example out a new high school graduate.” She spat venomously. “The test was administered by Rick. He is the only reason that Tommy is not downtown spending the night” James interjected before April could get deep into one of her patented diatribes. “He was going to be charged with a DUI, reckless driving and destruction of private property. Rick told me that they usually haul you in for the night.” “This will end his scholarship! Tommy will be devastated when he wakes up tomorrow.” She cried and started sobbing in James’s arms. Janice pulled her James coat tighter and held her as she wept. “Edna made a call and worked out a deal with Judge Sanderson. Tommy will need to do a summers worth of community service to pay off the property damages. He will have to work at some nursery and daycare Edna is part owner of. He will get paid wages which will be applied to what he owes. As long as he participates as directed the charges will be dropped and he will be off to Stanford. No record of any kind.” He said squeezing her tightly. “It won’t be a carefree easy summer but it beats the alternative.” April’s sobs slowly stopped and she said “Edna took care of it? She reached out on her own and took care of Tommy for us? God I love that women!” She paused and continued “You know I used to be jealous of Edna. You were always helping her out and spending time with her. I resented all the time she got with you that I didn’t. Over time I realized that you were good for each other and that she needed someone too.” She kissed James and smiled. “Let’s get some sleep. I will talk to Tommy in the morning and you need to meet Edna tomorrow at 9am. I left the business card on the table” He said pulling her to her feet. They moved through the house in a familiar routine. Checking doors, feeding the cat and shutting down the lights. Later they laid in bed in a familiar spoon position. Sleep came slowly for James as Janice’s fears needed to be tamped down again. She knew Tommy would be ok, Nanny promised. But she also knew it would be hard and weird for the boy. She also wanted to go see Tina but knew her grown up size and maleness confused her and she did want to upset her. He sighed and slipped into a dreamless sleep. +++++++++++++++++++ After James left Edna closed the door and sank to her knees. She felt a little badly for Tommy but he did break the law and damage her car. But those were minor issues. She had a growing problem and Tommy was going to be the answer. Leaning against the closed door she spilled more than a few tears of her own for the two boys whose lives they permanently changed so long ago. Janice and Tina was their responsibility even if it wasn’t truly their fault. If she ever found that bastard doctor that ran the experiment she would kill him. Damn the consequences! (This is Chapter 1. I hope to have many parts as we follow Tommy’s summer of fun and find out what happened to James/Janice and who Tina is. And see how April is going to react to Tommy becoming Tammi Lee. This is my first story and I appreciate any feedback (CCApril@Proton.me). I would also like to call out three of my favorite authors from Fictionmania/Daily Diaper. They have written great stories and inspired me to give it a shot. Thank you Mary Beth Sanford, Baby Sofia and Princess Phoebe. I hope you enjoy my stories a fraction as much as I have theirs. Also I have never played a psychologist on TV and I did not stay at a Holiday Inn last night. I’m just trying to write a fun story. If Janice/James personality is upsetting and/or its inaccuracy offends you please feel free to move on.)

As the fog and stink of sulfur dispersed, I was left in slack jawed awe at the result of a decade of research and painstaking work. It’s not often such long-term dedication bears fruit this grand. “This is… Curious.” The armor-clad Devil, speaks in a cold tone… as one might expect. It chills me to my core; both the thinly veiled rage and the unnatural yet beautiful sound of its spare words. I shake off the feeling and speak willfully. She’s trapped- suspended in a barrier. I’ve nothing to fear. “Elyial! With your true name you’ve been called forth by the great wizard, Lottie. Grant my wish such that you may be sent back to the depths.” A gauntlet reaches forth and prods the barrier. The small yet violent act causes the cozy woodland home to tremble and shake. Sparks fly as the infernal metal greets the edge of containment. A horrible sound akin to nails on a chalkboard fills the silence. My breath catches in my throat. It is not a barrier befitting the containment of such power. She could break free easily; an explosive act that would destroy the house and kill me in the process. Bright red eyes narrow within the creature’s helm. Directing her contempt to me- truly seeing me for the first time. The arm drops as she halts her attempt to destroy the barrier. “I see what you’ve done. Quite clever…” The tense moment ends as soon as it began. My breathing resumes as a wide smile breaks out on my face. It’s always nice to have one’s hard work praised… “For a Devil such as yourself this level of planning was necessary.” “… For a human.” ... Even if the praise is given begrudgingly. What she noticed was a spell to bind our souls together. For all her power if Elyial was in any way involved in my harm she would be consigned to oblivion. Never to be reformed in the underworld. The barrier keeps her from trying anything. And in case the barrier needs dropped, a final spell used in the summoning anchors her to my approximate location- a max distance of 200ft so she doesn’t fuck off somewhere. As for why of all Devils I’d chosen Elyial- it had been for her abilities. A powerful general amongst the underworld’s armies- she grants her own wishes to bring ruin to those in her way. When that isn’t enough, she crushes swathes of Demons with a single blow from her massive flail. “Send me back and I will forgive this foolish act. You play beyond your abilities, little wizard, and my patience has limits.” After the condescending pause, the Devil continues. But makes no move. And at that, I smirk. “There is no escape. The sooner you give up- the happier we’ll both be. Now if you wanna be a stubborn bitch, you can float in my living room till you change your mind… Otherwise let’s get this over with.” “… Proceed.” Elyial responds after pausing to survey the unkempt room. It’s not that I’m dirty, I’m just lazy when it comes to anything outside magic. Excitedly, I launch into my wish. A little something I’d prepared ahead of time to reduce the chances of the wish going wayward. “I never want to work again! Grant me a free life of relaxation where I’m pampered by those around me and loved by all! With enough money to make my lifestyle possible in perpetuity! While of course taking care to ensure no one is harmed by the completion of the wish and that I remain human and of sound mind and body.” Suspended in air, Elyial watches. Her eyes burn holes in me. She’s clenching her fist so hard it trembles. “So it will come to be.” She mutters, almost spitting the words at me. Before I can process her reaction, a powerful drowsy sensation hits me. I reach out in time to catch myself as I slump down to the floor. Rapidly I lose the ability to keep my eyes open. My consciousness fades into an inky black. ~~~ Tangled up in blankets, I wake groggily. Which is a normal for me. What isn’t normal is the tall ceiling with fancy trim. My heart leaps into my throat- it worked! It had to have! And Elyial didn’t find a way to twist my wish into turning me into a pile of flesh. Or something worse. In my excitement, my paci falls from my mouth and dangles from its clip. … …… My what…?! Something isn’t right. Quickly I toss my blankets aside and gasp. I’m in a pink bodysuit, 3 buttons on the crotch. No, not a bodysuit- a onesie. The bulge and off white plastic poking out from the onesie is unmistakable. I flex my legs in disbelief; the bulk is undeniably there. But something else as well, a damp warm sensation. This isn’t a dream, this is very much real. My face feels hot. My mind a jumbled mess as I struggle to accept the present situation. But then, I notice the bars surrounding me and the greater room beyond. Elyial you fucking whore. Oh yes, without question my bedroom is significantly larger. The issue at hand is that it is now a goddamned nursery. One fit for a 5’10 adult. Seemingly for me. My bed- a crib. The desk where I’d craft spells- a rocking chair. That chest of ingredients and supplies- an overflowing toy chest. Wardrobe- a massive changing table stocked with row after row of frustratingly adorable disposable underwear. Where once was wood panel walls- now pink plaster with cutesy little infantile doodles. She’ll fix this. One wish is all it’ll take. I still have leverage. Using the bars I pull myself up, standing unsteadily with the unfamiliar bulk between my legs. I find one of the rail release mechanisms. Despite my best efforts the thing is made to be near impossible to lower from this side. A good handful of minutes were spent attempting to climb the rail. The unwieldy padding along with my… Less than stellar strength, made the task impossible. For once I curse my lack of athleticism. Without my staff or writing implements to craft a spell, dropping it with magic is out of the question either. So, I take a deep breath- “DEVIL! LET ME OUT!” -and shout. “… I’m stuck… unless… kill us… ?” Faintly I hear her response. Asshole didn’t even try to shout- from her tone she’s enjoying herself. She can’t or won’t let me out till the barrier is gone- which she has kindly offered to do herself at the cost of our lives. I can’t believe this. It’s the only way out. We haven’t even started negotiations and I’ll be joining the table down one of my three cards. Not that there’s a chance in hell I’ll ever unbind our souls- so that leaves one playable card… “Fudge it, [Release]… Fudge? F-u-d-g-e. FUDGE!” Fuck. I massage my forehead as I feel my link to the dispelled barrier dissolve. Shortly after the door opens and in walks Elyial. Having undergone a wardrobe change. Gone is the imposing armor; unveiling an ethereal red-eyed beauty with a half crown braid of white and black. Adorned by black khakis and a burgundy shirt mostly obscured by a white apron accented in black. The anger and frustration that’s been boiling up lasted till we locked eyes and she smiled. An act that hastens my heart- in fear and unwitting desire. Elyial leans on the bars next to where I stand. Appraising me with her eyes. “How’s my dear little Lottie? Not that I need ask. You’re rather soaked, aren’t you? Pushing your special panties to the limit, hm?” If her intent was to humiliate or embarrass me, she was doing a wonderful job. My face explodes in crimson. Doing my best to appear unbothered, I respond with a measured voice. “L-Let’s cut to it. Why don’t we make a deal?” “Oh?” “I won’t remove the soul bind for obvious reasons, but I will drop the anchor so you may return whence you came.” “Who is to say I wish to leave?” Not something you want to hear from a high-ranking Devil. I can feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. My bladder twinges as anxiety bubbles up. “Uh… I… I Cannot reasonably let you freely roam the mortal plane… If that’s what you’re implying…” “Oh, I understand sweetie. You silly wizards have all these rules and taboos. You’d be turned into an adorable stain if you unleashed me on your world.” She continues to speak in an uncomfortably sugary voice- opposed to the cold and measured anger the night before. I’d more prefer if she was raging at me. That would at least make sense. “Do you want claim over my soul?” “Not particularly.” “Then what? What can I offer for you to fix this?” “What needs fixing, dear? Your wish was granted and you were oh so clever enough to avoid getting turned into a pile of flesh or gnat. Congratulations~” My eye twitches as I gesture down at my outfit. “You think I wished for this? Diapers and all?” Elyial looks amused and taps her chin thoughtfully. “All criteria are fulfilled. I don’t think an adult baby like you needs to work… And those pampers of yours do look like they’re in need of some pampering… And you’re oh so cute like this- everyone’s going to love you~” “You twisted my wish!” I point at her accusatorily. “Tsk tsk. I only choose to grant the wish; I have no say over how it is granted. Tis not my fault you desired so grandly… Wouldn’t you say blaming me is a little immature, sweetheart?” She’s being such a frustratingly obstinate shit. “So you won’t negotiate, fan-fudging-tastic. What do you get out of this? You’re trapped in this too.” Elyial perks up, rubbing her hands together. Excited that I broached the subject. “Sidebar with me here, I promise it’s relevant. Could you… Say my name for me?” “Whatever, mommy I don’t-“ I slap my hands over my mouth, eyes wide as I stare at her. She clasps her hands together, smile growing ever wider. Those red eyes of her twinkle brightly. “Awww that was so adorable! Aah… Should’ve caught it on video…” The few beads of sweat on my forehead have grown and spread; covering my body in a coldsweat. Another twinge on my bladder and I barely register the floodgates open. My- The diaper warms between my legs, now only held up by a few strained onesie snaps. “O-Oh god I-I didn’t mean to say that…” The Devil chuckles, a sound that does not put me at ease. Without warning she grabs me under the arms and plucks me out of the crib. “Ah! W-Wait!” She pulls me close to her and in my confused shock I wrap my legs around the Devil to keep from being dropped. Before wrapping the other arm around my back, she plops the pacifier clipped to my onesie into my mouth. In an anxiety ridden autopilot it bobs up and down in my mouth. Despite being only a head taller than me, she pulled that off with ease- a result of her unnatural strength. “Why don’t we get little miss soggy a fresh diaper, hm?” While talking, Elyial walks us in the direction of the changing table. All the while patting my bottom, driving my diapered state home. I cringe each time as I’m reminded by the damp sensation on my butt. “Aah, sidebar over. I must admit, I was concerned about your wish. You covered a few of the common traps. There was a good chance you would’ve walked away unscathed… Having made a fool of me. Leaving me no retaliatory options.” Her grip on me tightens a little as her voice drops. The sweet façade drops as she remembers the previous night. Any squirming I was doing in her arms ceased immediately. Elyial notices and lightens up. “For obvious reasons my worries scattered to the wind as soon as the wish started taking shape. This was building up to be better than anything I could dream of doing to you. The best part being how self-inflicted it is~” Gently she places me on the changing table. I sink into the padded surface. Her hand lightly pushes into the front of my diaper, as if checking how wet I am. The sodden padding brushes against my most intimate bits. Unconsciously I gasp from behind the paci as an intense feeling gut punches me. Such an intense feeling… I pray this isn’t another result of the wish- but I know it is. She laughs to herself, happy with my reaction. “I made a little wish of my own you know. To have a part to play in this production, and thoroughly enjoy it. Every minute. Even if it meant saddling myself with an odd predilection or two.” Her point is punctuated with the sound of the tapes ripping. As the front of the sodden garment is pulled away, I shoot my hands down in a meager attempt at modesty. Elyial rolls her eyes good naturedly and shoos my hands away as she begins wiping my nether regions with the baby-wipes. I shudder on the table- initially from the cold but then from the sensation. Against my rational self my eyes roll back, my neck cranes, and my mouth snaps down on the paci. Fuck! Holy Shit! “I’m thrilled to see you enjoy this just as much as mommy~” The Devil adds slyly as she continues. In this moment I don’t care about anything. I buck my hips into her hand. Oh fuck! Mommy please, please mommy make me- Elyial lingers just long enough to put me on the verge of completion before pulling her hand away- ruining the orgasm. My eyes snap back into focus, my body a mess of hungering need. “N-No! Pwease! I-“ “Aw you didn’t finish? My sweet little princess that might be rather common in your future. Maybe if you’re a good little thing we’ll let you have some fun- maybe with a teddy bear…” Ignoring the desperate whines escaping from my pacified lips, she slips a fresh diaper under my bottom. As my loins are once again sealed behind fresh padding and plastic my libido cools down like a bucket of ice dropped down my pants. The primal urges are replaced by embarrassment on a scale I’d never thought possible. I bury my face in my hands. I can’t believe I just did that. This is so fucked, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck! “Every embarrassment. Every humiliation. Every waking moment. I will be by your side. Striving to ruin you in new, creative ways. Going just far enough to break you down without crossing the brink. Again, and again.” My heart skips a beat. Equally measured in excitement at the prospect, shameful embarrassment at the disconnect between my body and mind, and horror at being under Elyial’s thumb. I pull out the paci and launch into a final plea. This can’t be it, there has to be a way out- to escape this fate. “Please m-mommy, I-I know you’re mad at me but… Anything, anything but this…” Elyial laughs and boops me on the nose. “Oh, my silly girl. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad for you.” She leans close, cupping my face with her warm hand. Staring deep into my eyes with an intense look. Her upper teeth biting so hard in desire on her bottom lip that it draws blood. “The way you look at me in fear- so desperate to hide it. How you ultimately give in to my touch after fighting it. Your constant embarrassed glow. Your subconscious chewing on your paci against your will. The way your body presses into mine and the plastic mass cups in my hand. The sight of your soaked diaper hanging off your frame. Hearing your panicked voice call me mommy. Knowing that this is only the beginning and I have so much, much, much more to discover… It drives me mad. And I love it. All of it. I love you, Lottie~” “N-No! You don’t want this mommy, please! It-It’s the wish!” An obsessive love born of her infernal desire to torment. An ungodly horrible result for me. Elyial picks me up and pulls me close. I can feel a hand stroking my back as the other gropes my diaper- an invasive act that would surely be many to come. It reddens my cheeks. Tears gather in the corners of my eyes as the reality of this nightmare sets in. A nightmare I pray I’ll wake from. “There, there… Don’t you remember what you said? ‘There is no escape. The sooner you give up- the happier we’ll both be’.” ~~~ Character Biographies- Lottie: Human wizard, 30 years old. Average build, 5’10. Unkempt medium length blonde hair, brown eyes. Top of her class in magic school, excelling in application and theory of magical formulae. Lazy in all regards beyond magic. For that reason, an ingenious plan filled her head- one that would take a decade to complete. She secluded herself to a cabin deep in the woods to keep prying eyes away from her taboo work. Why go through all that trouble instead of making golems to do everything for her? Beats me; eccentric geniuses, am I right? Ultimately her wish was granted and she has an eternity to learn to be happy about it! Elyial: Devil general, without age. Deceptively slender build, 6’6. Long white/black hair in a half crown braid, red eyes. Little is known about Elyial to the magic community, including that she is amongst the Fallen. Large in part to the Devil ensuring all historic texts regarding her have been purged. Obviously, she missed one and will be overjoyed to see its destruction too. A Fallen Angel- she once granted wishes for the sake of mankind and the world. Giving away a piece of herself in every wish. As the wishes grew more self-serving, she pushed the hatred welling inside her deep down. The Angel fell when she had given too much of herself and bore witness to the twisted outcome of humanity’s wishes. She was satisfied tormenting the damned in the lower realms and working off her sorrowful rage in the Blood Wars. Fortunately, Lottie has gifted her a new outlet and she has all the twisted love in the world to give her little Wizard.

Description: A baby for a bully - A story in which a girl enters a very reclusive school and, at school, will suffer at the hands of bullies who will make her their baby -------------------Chapter 01---------------- Ha-na was a small, beautiful 16-year-old girl with blonde hair that shone in the sunlight. Two pink strands stood out in her hairstyle, giving it a touch of originality. Her biggest dream was to become an idol and create her own musical hits. To pursue this dream, she studied at a renowned girls' school that was forming the current idol groups. It was a sunny day when Ha-na decided to take a break in a local café. The establishment was not very busy at the moment, which gave her a quiet environment in which to relax. She entered wearing her standard school uniform, a skirt combined with a shirt. As he entered the café, his eyes met a woman sitting alone at a table near the window. The woman had a laptop open in front of her, and her gaze seemed full of curiosity. Ha-na approached and greeted her: "Hello, my name is Ha-na. May I join you?" The woman smiled gently and replied: "Of course, make yourself at home. My name is Park, I'm a journalist. I've been expecting you. We have some things to talk about." Park explained that he was working on a story about the famous Melody cases, that famous idol school that hides a lot of secrets She asked Ha-na to provide proof of the story she had mentioned in a previous email. Ha-na looked around, making sure no one could see, and, with a quick gesture, lifted her skirt, revealing a diaper. She then lowered it, showing that she was wearing it. Park was surprised by the revelation, but kept her expression calm. "Now that we have the proof, you can tell your story," she said. Ha-na sat in a comfortable chair in the small café, her eyes fixed on Park, the curious journalist who surrounded her with questions. Although hesitant at first, Ha-na decided to open up and share her darkest secret. It was something that few people knew, but now it was time to reveal it. After a brief moment of silence, Ha-na took a deep breath and began to tell her story. She revealed that, against all expectations, she had received a special invitation from the renowned Melody school. It was a chance in a million, as this school was known for training the most talented and famous idols in the country. The Melody School was a veritable paradise for aspiring idols. With several buildings spread across a vast campus, each dedicated to different aspects of artistic training, the institution was a veritable music empire. Ha-na described the campus as a magical place, where the sound of melodies filled the air and dreams came true. As Ha-na shared her excitement at receiving the invitation, she mentioned that she knew about one of the school's most famous future idols, Baek Ha-rin. The teacher accompanying her, Mi-hai, mentioned Ha-rin's name with admiration and enthusiasm. "Wow, you've got a great chance," said Mi-hai excitedly. "You're going to study in one of the newest rooms, newly created in the building that will house the most famous future idols, including Baek Ha-rin." Ha-na knew that Baek Ha-rin was one of the rising stars in the music industry. Her powerful voice and captivating stage presence made her one of the most promising idols of her generation. Ha-na deeply admired Ha-rin and dreamed of following in her footsteps and achieving similar success. As Ha-na recounted these details, Park's mind filled with images of the Melody school. She could visualize the spacious corridors, decorated with bright murals depicting the most famous idols who had ever passed through. Ha-na's school uniform, consisting of a pleated skirt and a white shirt with pink details, perfectly matched the school's vibrant and energetic atmosphere.

Jennifer Crowley is a promising young woman, brimming with intelligence but also not very imaginative when it comes to fantasy subjects. Little does she know that at the college she's going to her new dorm mate is a witch! Not just that however it seems this girl is absolutely evil with people she doesn't like...and Jennifer isn't well liked by her. So Jennifer now has to suffer under her new roommate...or her new mama. If you wanna do this roleplay hmu in chats or send a friend request to jemmolioni on discord! I'm desperate to roleplay so please give me a chance?

Hello guys, A short story I wrote in an hour. Sorry about the typos and the grammar. Enjoy! Nora had lost count of how many times she had tried, but try anyway she did. She started kicking, but the elastic fabric of the swaddler that Amazon psycho had tied her in was so resistant and tight, keeping her legs bent, that she couldn’t manage to do anything mora than a ridiculous two legged kick, which seemed more similar to seeing a worm wriggling, rather than a serious escape attempt. In no time she was exhausted, sweating, trying hard to breathe through her nose since her mouth was entirely plugged with the bulb of an inflatable pacifier. She tried rolling to her side, but unfortunately the Amazon had laid her down of a huge semicircular pillow which surrounded her head, shoulders, down until her midsection, smothering her in a cloud feather-padded fabric, making moving to the side very difficult. She couldn’t even close her legs properly, the huge crawler diaper sealed around her hips prevented that, acting also as a weight, hampering her attempt to lift her lower half. She could only lay there, mouth plugged, arms immobilized, legs half bent and splayed, waiting for what else the Amazon had in store for her. No. She couldn’t lose hope. She had to keep fighting. But she was getting tired. It was the third day of this hell, since the Giant woman kidnapped her from her office. Three days of abuse, spankings and force feedings. Three days of unending humiliation and degradation. She had to find a way to escape, and quickly. Before she started getting accustomed to this life or, worse, the giant decided she was too rebellious to keep this way, and decided to regress her to a babbling infant. With a jerk of her abdomen, she finally managed to tilt a little bit to the left. Huffing and panting she rocked to the left, then to the right, gaining speed and finally managing to turn face down. And for her effort, she was rewarded with a face pressed against that damn cushion. She couldn’t breathe. She tried rolling again, but if her splayed knees and legs provided a good counterweight when she was face up, now they literally pinned her to the mattress, ass up and face down in the soft fabric. She started panicking, with effort she raised her neck to get a breath of fresh air. But couldn’t keep her neck craned for too long… She started hyperventilating…. It could not end like this, she had to escape and go home… “Shtoopid babiee!” A lispy high-pitched voice came from beside her. Two soft hands grabbed her by the hips and turned her again face up. She blinked, and found her face to face with the Amazon’s baby slave. She didn’t know her name, her true name. The Amazon called her Vivie. She didn’t know her true age, looking at her right now, clad in only her sagging waddler diaper she could have been anything between two and thirty. Her blonde hair was kept short and tied in four pigtails, her skin was smooth, so smooth it looked unnatural. Her face was chubby, cheeks red and full, her body plump, but there was something wrong with her bodyfat… no love hadles, nothing on the hips, just a little, well rounded belly, just like toddler’s, but her tiny, albeit present breasts told her that she was surely an adult. Vivie came closer, noisily sucking a pacifier. Drool trickled from her concealed mouth. She smelled like milk, talcum and poop. Just everything about her was what Nora had always feared. What probably once was a free and independent Little had been turned into an Amazon’s plaything. Nora breathed loudly through her nose struggling in her bonds, moaning around the pacifier gag as the baby slave loomed over her. “Shtoopid baby” she repeated, pointing a rebuking finger towards her “Mommy told you to be still, no rolling around” Her voice was lispy, hight pitched and annoying like the one of a toddler. But her vocabulary was too wide. At first Nora thought she had been hypnotized, that she couldn’t help it. She refused to believe any Little could have accepted to live like that. But the way she talked… and mostly her eyes told a different story. The Little in front of her hadn’t been regressed, her eyes were brimming with resignation, intelligence and, worst of all, malice. “Mommy told me you my new baby sis!” she giggled triumphantly, waddling backwards. She turned around, bending her knees exposing her huge, heavy, sagging diaper. She picked up a huge baby bottle filled to the brim with what seemed like milk. “I love my new baby sis!” she smiled behind her pacifier “I want her to grow strong and healthy” With a grunt, she lifted the buttle up, pointing the nipple towards Noras’ mouth. She screamed, but nothing but incoherent mumbling came out. She tried wriggling away, but, swaddled tight as she was, she had nowhere to go. Vivie pushed hard, her face red. For a moment Nora experienced intense pain as her mouth faced the intense weight, but the pressure stopped as soon as a click was heard from her pacifier. She mumbled around the nipple, her neck now feeling heavy. That baby slave had hooked the bottle to the shield of the pacifier! “Drink up! Mommy said you have to finish the whoooole bottle” Vivie said squeezing with both her hands. Nora felt the inflated nipple in her mouth swell, and in a matter of seconds she was forced to gulp down the chalky formula. She kept on drinking, the milk level slowly lowering. But Vivie kept on pressuring the bottle, more and more, her smile widening. Nora kept swallowing, eyes wide, pulse quickening. She wasn't even giving her time to breathe! She kept swallowing until she couldn’t withstand anymore, she needed air! She started coughing, milk coming through her nose, spilling out everywhere “Vivie! What are you doing?” A deep female voice spoke from behind them In a matter of seconds, two giant arms entered Nora’s field of vision, rapidly hooking the baby slave by her armpits and lifting her up like she weighted nothing. “Vivie, bad girl! You were supposed to wait for Mommy to feed your sister! You’re much too little to do that!” Nora stopped coughing, air filling her lungs once more as she struggled, trying to shake the drops of milk from her face. From behind her she heard Vivie trying to explain, but the lispy voice of the baby slave was soon replaced by incoherent mumbling after a click and a hiss. It wasn’t long before the sound of spanks administered of a full diaper could be heard distinctively. “Naughty!” the Amazon’s voice declared Nora laid still, her eyes wide as the spanking continued. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she had counted at least forty spanks. Where did she end up? That Amazon was a monster! Five more minutes passed, now behind her sounds she could not decipher. Nora tried as hard as she could to turn around, not to avail. Soon, her view was occupied by the gigantic figure of the Amazon woman holding a still sobbing Vivie now clad in an even bulker diaper, her legs now spread in a ninety-degree angle. She watched as the Amazon lowered the Little on her back in an empty playpen. Vivie didn’t even try to stand up, but craned her neck upwards, looking fearfully at the giant woman. “The crawler stays on top of that poopy diaper at least until tonight. So does the silencer. You’ll stay put in your playpen until Mommy works and takes care of your little sister. I’ll change you before bedtime if you’ve been a good girl all day. ALL. DAY. Vivie. Now go play!” the giant woman commanded, lowering to administer another smack on the seat of Vivie’s diaper. The Litttle moaned in pain, rapidly crawling for a rattle, and started shaking it with gusto, always looking fearfully towards her Mommy. Nora trembled as the giant’s attention turned towards her. She felt herself being lifted, her head cradled in the woman’s arm. “Now…” she smiled, picking up the huge bottle “Where were we?”

Hi all, I've been writing all my life, but always in my native language Dutch. I wanted to see if I could also write in English. So... I just started writing. And this is the result. It is basically a brain dump, so I never re-read it. Please let me know if you like it. Tips and tricks are welcome. And highly appreciated. Chapter 1 – She is here! “You know she is here, right?” The fifty year old man looked at me with a concerned look on his face. Bob was my colleague. He was my boss actually, and ‘she’ was an intern. She was 25 years younger than me and turned a few some months ago. I smiled and nodded and continued with the preparations for some hot snacks. I would fire up the barbecue in a few hours, but until then I didn’t want my colleagues to get hungry. “You know?” He was surprised. “Yes, I saw her ten minutes ago, through the front window, sneaking into my garden.” “And?” “And what?” “You are going to do nothing?” “You think she would leave if I asked nicely?” I answered with a new question. Bob looked at me for a moment and then started to laugh. He shook his head. “No, I don’t think she would leave.” “Then there is no point in asking, or telling, her to leave.” I concluded. “If I went to the garden and told her that she isn’t welcome here and that she needs to leave, then she would cause a scene and ruin the mood.” “So? You let her stay?” He asked. “I’m going to give her a choice: leave or stay. But if she wants to stay, it’ll be on my conditions. And I’m not sure she is going to like the conditions.” I smiled. Bob shook his head. I think he misread my intentions, but he would see for himself what I was planning to do. I didn’t think she was going to leave, but I also knew she wouldn’t accept my conditions without a fight. It was a bit of catch-22 situation, but I was sure the end result would be satisfying for both of us, in the end. I only had to convince her of it. “You know, I do feel sorry for her.” I said. I presented the plate with the snacks to Bob and let him try one. He tasted and nodded an approval. “You feel sorry for her? Why is that? She is the one who is crazy. Totally nuts.” “I know.” I knew a bit more about her tan Bob did. “She didn’t have a normal childhood, and yes, she does have some issues. I helped her get this internship. Now she has a crush on me, and thinks I love her because I helped her.” “Crush? This isn’t a crush anymore. She is hopelessly in love, and she stalks you. You need to do something about that.” “Oh, I will. I certainly will.” I said. “She is so talented, but a bit screwed up inside her head.” “That she is. That she is indeed!” Bob laughed approvingly. Chapter 2 – First step I found ‘her’ in the garden. Emma was talking to two of my female colleagues, and from a distance I saw that they didn’t want her around but were too polite to just turn their backs on her. I could see the annoyed faces of my colleagues, but Emma didn’t notice that. She just didn’t have an antenna for that kind of thing. Or maybe she had, but choose to ignore it. I walked towards them and Emma noticed me. She smiled immediately, but only for a second. Then she realized the situation and that she wasn’t welcome here. She must have been afraid of me being mad at her. Her expression changed, but that also lasted only a second. Then she smiled again. She tried to be calm and confident, but I knew she wasn’t. Emma was small and her high heels didn’t compensate fully. Her small skirt, sexy top and plenty of skin showing made her look like a teenager at a fraternity party. But this wasn’t that kind of party. This was just a barbecue with ten colleagues from work. And we were all in our forties and fifties. She definitely stood out of the crowd, she was the outsider, and everybody knew that. Even Emma. When I came close she hugged me. She wrapped her arms around me and wanted to kiss me on the lips. But she couldn’t reach that high. Instead she pushed her face against my chest and I feared that her extensive make-up would leave marks on my white shirt. She smiled and looked up with anticipation and maybe a little bit of tension. “Hi Emma. Please come inside, we need to talk.” I pushed myself out of the hug and placed my hand between her shoulder blades to guide her inside the house. Emma looked worried and I knew all my colleagues were staring at us. They all felt the tension, and they all knew what had happened before. All right, they didn’t know everything, but they knew enough to feel that something was going to happen. “Peter, I’m sorry for...” She started, but her words where unnecessary. “Please stop talking. I will talk first and you need to listen. But we will do that inside the house, and we will find a nice and quiet place where we are not disturbed.” I said it calm but resolutely. I wanted her to know that I was serious. This was not a game anymore, not for me anyway. In fact, for me it was never a game. But Emma did exactly what she always did when somebody asked her to do something: she starting asking why and did not get the clue that she should have listened in the first place. She turned around to me and looked me in the eye. She didn’t seem to care that everybody was looking at us. “Peter, let’s…” She started talking again. “No, stop. You really need to listen to me now.” I said with a raised voice. “You know you are not invited here, and I made it absolutely clear that you are not welcome. You even promised you wouldn’t come.” I looked her in the eyes and saw her nervous smile fade away. Her confidence was melting, but it was not gone yet. “So you can talk all you want, but all I hear are lies and falsehoods. So, stop talking and go inside. Now, please!” I gave her a last chance to go to a place without spectators, without the audience. And people were looking at us, enjoying it. Not long after Emma started her internship at the company, people started to dislike her and hoped that something like this would happen one day. Her arrogance and misplaced self-confidence made her no friends. “That’s not…” Again I didn’t let her finish her sentence. She clearly wasn’t going to listen and she didn’t made any attempt to go inside. She gave me the excuse I wanted, and I could do what I planned to do. I grabbed her by her arm, pushed her in position and swung my other hand from behind and let it land op her ass. Everybody could hear my hand hit the back of her skirt and saw the startled face of Emma. She shouted in surprise, not because I did her a lot of pain. Everybody looked at us in silence and saw that I treated her like the child she was acting like. Emma was shocked and looked up in disgust. I looked her again straight in the eyes. The twenty year old looked up to me and then looked away. She now realized that everybody around us looked at her, and the humiliation became visible on her face. “Did you hear what I said? I want you to go inside the house so we can talk. Are you going to listen now?” I still had my hand around her arm. She couldn’t get away, but I think she was more or less paralyzed by the shock and wasn’t planning to run away. Again she didn’t respond to my question. She just looked down at the ground, avoiding any eye contact. It took a little shaking around before she looked up and finally she nodded, albeit very slightly. “OK, then please go to the hall. You can sit on the stairs if you want. I’ll come find you in a minute. Is that understood?” I was purposely talking to her as if she was a child, but she wasn’t a child at all. She was an adult, a beautiful but slightly small one. She had made an effort to look sexy, with a lot of curve showing and from above I had an excellent view into her cleavage. But she was twenty and I was forty-five. “Yes.” She sounded very soft. For the moment she conceded. She knew she couldn’t win this round and the only thing she wanted to do now, was leave the garden and find a spot to regroup, and find her calm, and her confidence. This was not the moment to teach her that I would like to hear a response like: ‘Yes, Peter’ or ‘No, Peter’, but I hoped that that time would still come. I let go of her arm and Emma immediately started to walk inside the house. I watched her go and followed her with my eyes. I was a bit afraid that she would run away, and that she went home and that my plans would fail. But deep inside I knew already that she would not do that. I was confident that my plan worked, and that she would behave the way as expected. I smiled, and was already excited about the next step of the plan. For now I concluded that the first part of the plan worked perfectly. Chapter 3 - Confessions Five minutes. I gave her a bit more time to think about what happened. She got a bit more time to realize that her plan was failing. I suppose she still thought that she might end up in bed with me, but that was not the end goal I had in mind. I had different plans, and preparations were already underway for a two weeks now. The only reason I gave this barbecue in my backyard was to lure Emma here. And it worked. I opened the door to the hall and Emma was startled. She was indeed sitting on the second step of the stair, but stood up as soon as I entered the hall. “I’m sorry I had to smack your bottom.” I said with a shy smile. I think she thought I was still angry, but instead I walked towards her and gave her a hug. I pulled her close to me and wrapped my arms around her. I even kissed her on top of her head. “You didn’t listen, and I needed you to listen.” I whispered to her in a soft voice, without a hint of anger or irritation. “Why… Peter?” She still felt the humiliation and the confusion. Moments ago she thought I was mad at her, and now I was kissing her. I gave out these mixed messages on purpose. I needed her confused for now, to lure her a bit more in my trap. Far enough that so there wasn’t a way back. “First, please forget that you think you can end up in my bed. That’s not going to happen.” I said sternly. I still had her firm against my body, but she could hear me perfectly. “If you still believe that, then please leave now. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t stay the night, if you want.” I let her get out of the hug and she looked up at me. Her confusion was still visible. “What? Really, but…” She fumbled her words and was lost for words. “I know you don’t want to go home tonight, and I know you brought a change of clothes just in case, but there is a big issue we need to talk about first.” “Wh… What?” “The problem is that I don’t trust you. I can’t trust you.” “Yes… Yes, you can.” Emma looked up desperately. “No, I can’t. Did you lie to me? Did you say you were not planning to come here tonight, because I explicitly said you were not welcome? Was that a lie, Emma?” Emma wanted to answer immediately, but I stopped her. I put a finger vertically on her lips and she understood the gesture. “Please think before you answer, and please don’t lie to me again.” Emma started blushing. I knew she was going to lie again, like she always did. That was kind of second nature to her. Off course she would deny it, but I already knew the truth. Last Thursday she confessed to another colleague that she was planning to come here, and later that day denied it to me. It was time for her to stop lying. Emma looked up at me, with a blush on her forehead. She nodded and finally told the truth. “Yes… I… I lied. But I…” I saw her tremble for a moment and pulled her close to me again. “All right, Emma. I’m glad you told the truth. Please don’t ever lie to me again.” I said, and gave her a moment to feel her body against mine. I wanted to give her some warmth, something I knew she didn’t get at home. I gave her another minute before I made my confession. “Now you told the truth, then I need to make a confession too.” I said, and I smiled. “Even though I explicitly forbade you to come here and I made myself very clear to you that you were not welcome here, I already knew you would come. I knew you could not resist the temptation and that’s why I already prepared a room for you.” Emma bended her head backwards and looked up. “A… A room.” “Yes, off course. You will get your own room, with your own bed.” “And… I can stay?” She asked. I couldn’t answer that question right away. “If you want, and if you obey my rules, then yes. You can stay here tonight. But only if you agree to my rules. And even then, there may be some surprises for you. And I already know that some of those surprises you will not like.” And even with that ominous warning she only heard the word ‘yes’. Chapter 4 – The proposal “The problem is that I don’t trust you. You lied to me, on multiple occasions. You looked me straight in the eyes and lied. That is problem.” I said. “So, I’ll be very clear to you. I’ll tell you exactly what is going to happen. You may not like what I have planned for you, but you are here out of your own free will and you are free to leave. Do you understand?” Emma look puzzled, and a bit scared, but eventually she nodded. “You are free to leave, but… There is a big but.” I said. “There are only a few moments where you can decide to leave. Between those moments you are in my house and under my control. Here in this house I am responsible and you have to follow my rules.” Emma looked at me with a blank face. She had no idea what I meant. That would change soon. “I know this all sounds a bit strange, but I will explain.” I started. “First, in order to be able to build up my trust in you, I need you to learn that you cannot lie to me. You need to understand what happens when you lie and what the consequences are. And that will not be a pleasant part of this evening. I’m sorry to say, but I will need to punish you for your lies. I hope that will prevent you from further lying.” “P… Punish?” She stuttered the word. I nodded. “Yes. I will punish you. And it will hurt. It will hurt a lot.” I looked her in the eyes and saw fear. I was so much taller and stronger than her, and until now that didn’t stop her. Only now she really noticed the difference. “Then I will show you your room and you will stay there for at least two hours. You can sleep if you like, but you must stay in your room. You will get some time to process what I did to you, so you can decide how you react to that. That is part of the punishment.” Emma didn’t dare to ask anything. “Then I will get you, take you downstairs and get you something to drink and eat. At that point you can decide if you want to leave. I will ask someone to bring you home. I think Bob is going your way anyway, and he can drop you off at home if you want.” “By you can stay here if you like. But if you decide to stay for the night, you will need to comply with my rules, you need to behave or suffer the consequences. By then you know what happens if you misbehave.” “B… But…” She was lost for words again. “If you decide to stay the night here, I can bring you home tomorrow around noon. Not sooner. So, again, you need to make your decision carefully.” Emma was desperate to stay the night here. She decided that upfront. She knew she would do anything to stay the night here, but now, now it didn’t go according to her plan, everything fell apart for her. I saw her thinking about it, but now that everything was different than expected, she didn’t know what to do anymore. “What… Punishment… What will you do?” She looked up at me. Her face betrayed her nervousness. I approached her again and drew her close to me. I hugged her and wrapped my arms around her, and I gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “I have to do what I should have done before.” I said and waited a few seconds. “I will put you over the knee and I will spank you. I will use my hands, but I will do it on your bare bottom.” I felt her shock. Her body stiffened and she gasped. “I won’t lie to you, and I’m honest to tell you that it will hurt. But I hope that you trust me that I believe that this is the best for you. That is maybe a bit hard to understand, but I believe you need a firm hand.” She pulled her hands between our bodies and pushed herself out of our embrace. She looked at me and shook her head. Of course she was afraid. “No… You don’t… don’t have the right to… to…” She was right, of course. I could only do it with her permission. She was an adult and I had no legal control over her. But I was still convinced that she at least would stay till after her punishment, and after she had spent her time in her bedroom. I was almost certain that she loved me enough, and trusted me enough, to let me punish her. “No, but you lied to me too often and if you want us to have any kind of relationship, then it starts with this. I’m sorry, but this is the only way.” She still shook her head, maybe it was out of stubbornness, or despair. I couldn’t be sure. I knew I had to give her some time, but at the same time give her a hard deadline. She needed to make a decision fast, while I knew that was a tough decision to make. “Go back to the garden, get something to drink or whatever. In fifteen minutes I will ask Bob to bring you home. If you want to stay, then come to me before that. OK?” I asked, but Emma turned her head away from me. She pretended not to listen. With a gentle push I directed her out of the small hallway, in the direction of the garden. I went back to the kitchen to pour myself a drink. I smiled, but I was nervous too. I hoped see agreed to my proposal, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Chapter 5 – Her decision I already asked Bob and prepared him a bit for what was coming. I didn’t tell him everything, but most of it he would find out eventually. With Bob on my side we walked to Emma. She was sitting a bit outside the group. She was looking away, deep in her thoughts. “Emma? Bob will take you home now.” I said and laid my hand on her shoulder. She was startled by me touching her and looked at me. It looked like she cried a bit, but she would probably deny that. She looked at me, then at Bob and then back at me. I didn’t think she fully made her mind up. “Come, you need to go. I don’t think Bob would want to miss the barbecue.” I said smiling, but Emma didn’t move. She gazed at me for a moment and ten slowly stood up. I spread my arms and she walked into them. I hugged her again and let her feel some warmth. “I don’t want to go.” She said very softly. I don’t think Bob could hear it. He knew to give us some space. “Then you know what I have to do.” I replied, also softly. I kissed her on the head again. She shook her head. “Please, don’t.” “I understand you don’t want to be hurt and I will not be gentle. Let us walk to the hall together, we can grab your stuff on the way. If you then want to stay, I need you to show me that, I need a kind of confirmation that you really want to stay. If not, we call Bob. OK?” I whispered and she nodded. I gave her another kiss, but now on her forehead. She looked up at me with watery eyes, as if she was about to start crying. Slowly I let her out of my embrace and I grabbed her hand and softly led her through the garden. We both knew people were looking at us again. What was happening between that 45 year old and the 20 year old intern? It wasn’t illegal, even if she did end up in my bed, but although it was completely legal, it still felt off. She was too young for me. I was too old for her. She was working in my department, even though I wasn’t her real boss. For a short period of time I was her boss, but that didn’t work out, so I transferred her to a colleague. I felt her feet dragging. She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t know if she wanted to stay either. It took us more than a minute to cross the house, grab her bag, and end up in the hall. We stood still in front of the door, but it was still closed. She was looking to the door, to her way out, to the end of this disappointment, but she didn’t open the door. “I need conformation, Emma. We’re both adults, I have no right to do this to you without your consent.” I saw her tremble. “So… Let’s… If you want to stay, then… then take off your panties and give them to me. That way I know for sure.” I proposed. I could hear her gasp. She had her head down, looked to the ground and thought about it. I knew she didn’t want to go home, but maybe the price of staying was too high. And she didn’t even know what I had planned for her. She only knew about the spanking. It all took too long. I didn’t want to wait anymore. Maybe the more she thought about it, the less chance I had she would stay. I walked up to her. Her back was turned to me and I moved close to her. I put my hand on her shoulder. “I understand this is a difficult choice to make, and I understand if you want to end it right here, right now. I’ll call Bob, and he’ll…” I started, but she didn’t let me finish. Suddenly she turned around. I saw anger on her face. Her hands were fists and she pounded them against my chest, but not hard. She didn’t want to hurt me, it was just an expression of her anger. Her hands came down and she reached under her skirt. Her skirt came up, but with her thumps under her panties she pulled her panties down. Her seemed more decorative that serving any other purpose. She pulled her feet out of them and then bend over to pick them from the ground. Without looking me in the eye she held her panties out. I took her pink panties and then gave her another hug. “Let’s get it over with, then.” I said. I tried to sound serious, but of course I was excited. She gave herself to me, ready to be punished. “You can leave your shoes, here.” I said, and half a minute later I guided her barefoot up the stairs. Chapter 6 – Final preparations I guided her to my bedroom. I went first and closed the door after she came in. I walked past her to the other side of the bed, closer to the window. The window was open and we could hear our colleagues talking. I closed the window and sat down on the middle of the bed. I placed my hand on the sheets next and gestured to come sit there. So hesitated, but she complied. “Have you ever had a spanking before?” She shook her head immediately. She looked very timid now. “I’m you cry or shout too loud, people may hear us. I think you don’t want that. And also I need you to lie very still, and that may prove difficult too.” Is said to her in a soft voice. “If I need to stop every time you make too much noise or move out of position, then that will only make it take longer. I… I may even need to hit you a bit more, because of the pauses in between.” She kept looking at her feet. “No, no… I will… I will try to…” “I can help you, but… But you may not like it.” “What? How?” I heard softly. “I can fixate your arms and legs, and put something in your mouth. You can’t move too much anymore and I can more easily keep you in place, and you can scream as much as you like as only me will hear you.” I said. She kept quiet. “I would be extremely proud of you if you did that. And it will be over more quickly.” She still didn’t say anything, and didn’t dear to look my way. “You want it to be over as soon as possible?” I asked, and now she nodded very slightly. I wasn’t sure what she really wanted, except that she didn’t want to be spanked at all, so I decided to use the tools I had at my disposal. First I took the towel that was on my night stand and spread it over my knees. With my hands on both side over her body, I helped her move and let her sit on my lap. She still didn’t look at me. The night stand was close enough by to open it and opened the drawer. I saw her looking at what my hand would get out of the drawer, probably anxiously. The first thing I picked was a belt that I put on her waist. I closed it on the front Velcro. On the back, a bit to the side, there were to wristbands that could also be closed with Velcro. One at a time I grabbed her wrist and brought it to her back and locked it into place. I felt a bit more resistance with her second hand, but she let me do it. She was already helpless and overpowered, but now her hands were out of the way, and securely locked against her back, she must have felt more helpless than ever. I grabbed a much smaller belt from the drawer with a soft, black gag on it. I brought the gag to her mouth and she let me put it in her mouth. It was from a soft material and it filled her mouth completely. I closed the belt behind her head. For a short moment I hugged her. I was so glad she trusted me to do this to her. She could have just refused and go home, but I had her on my lap in a position that I completely dominated her. I felt her tremble a bit out of fear and anticipation. I gave her a bit of time to get used to her outfit, before I helped her turn around. I got her to lie on my knees without any problems. She rested with her belly on my left thigh and with her private parts on my other thigh. Her hands were visible to me and were nervously trying to investigate their maneuverability. Her skirt was still covering her buttocks, but only barely. “Can you bend your knees, please?” I asked, and her knees came into reach. I had a last belt that I used to bind her ankles together. It also closed with Velcro. It was done quickly and she straightened her legs again. Her feet were resting on the ground and seeking support against the wall. She was almost ready. I had one more task to do, before I could teach her not to lie to me again. With both hands I pulled her tight skirt up. I exposed her buttocks as she wasn’t wearing any panties anymore. She tightened up, nervous and afraid. I could feel her while body stiffen, but her behind was exposed. I laid my right hand on her left buttock and it shocked her. It was just a touch but she was already in shock. The fact that it was hard for her to see what I did, didn’t help. She trembled again and I decided it was time. I pulled my right hand back. Chapter 7 – Punishment She cried within a minute. The first slaps didn’t hurt that much, much I kept going and soon the pain of each slap faded into the next one, until there was no more relief in between. I hit her with the inside of my hand, hurting myself too, but her pain was worse. I hit her on the left and on the right randomly, leaving her guessing where she would feel the next hit. She screamed at first, but the foam ball in her mouth reduced the volume for the most part. Only I could hear her in between the moments where my hand hit her skin. She fought me, her body tense and hard at one moment, and soft and flexible the next. I could easily keep her in place with my left hand grabbing her belt on her back, between her hands. And when she did manage to move a bit out of position, I could easily pull her back. I continued with her punishment, hitting her hard and leaving the skin on her buttocks darker and darker. It started a light shade of pink, but by now it some places became bruised and were already a much darker shade of pink. I didn’t think she thought it was going to hurt this bad. It took a while before I felt her body relax. She started to give up the fight. Her muscles relaxed and her body was loosening up. Her mind was accepting the fact that it couldn’t fight it, and was just helpless. She wasn’t screaming anymore into her gag, she was just crying. I continued for a short bit, slapping her darkened skin for a few more times and then stopped. She didn’t react to the end of her punishment. She still laid perfectly still, ready to accept more of I decided to do so. I placed my hand on her battered behind. I hadn’t broken anything, just darkened it. But it was enough. It was easy for me to pick her up, turn her around, and let her sit on my lap again. I did it carefully to not hurt her any more than necessary. Her upper body relaxed against mine, and her head was resting against my shoulder. Her eyes were wet from crying, but she was still bound and gagged and could do anything I didn’t help with. She felt exhausted. Her heart was racing and I could her chest expanding every time she breathed. Her mouth was filled, so she had to breathe to her nose. I gave her a minute to recuperate and then removed the gag from her mouth. She drooled a bit and I threw the wet gag on the floor. She rested her head again against my shoulder and felt her wet mouth against my neck. “I’m proud of you.” I said. “You’re so brave. I hope you learned your lesson.” She didn’t say anything, she just rested against me. After a moment I felt her pull against her restraints, and I removed them. Her hands were free again and then I also removed the restraints on her ankles. She was free again, but was still recovering from her punishment. Her breathing was slowly slowing down. I looked at her face and saw that it was a mess. Her make-up was awful after her crying and her mascara was all over her face. With some wet wipes I started to clean her face up. At first she resisted me a bit, but when she noticed that I did it with care and gentle strokes she started helping me. I think her main reason for her resistance was that she didn’t want her make-up to be removed, but I suppose she realized it was needed anyway. So, she let me do it. I needed a lot of wipes to remove it, but in the end her face was clean again, albeit still a bit red. “You did good.” I said thankfully. “Let’s get you into bed. I think you can use the rest.” I tried a small smile, but I didn’t get the same response from her. She wasn’t looking at me, she just laid there in my arms. I was prepared to carry her to her bedroom, but I couldn’t stand up with her in my lap. I could carry her, but then we first both had to stand up. Without speaking I helped her up and stood up beside her. I took her back in my arms, and she let me do it. She even wrapped her arms around my neck to help me. She was ready for another big surprise. Chapter 8 – Her bedroom She wasn’t that big, and I was strong enough to carry her in my arms. I maneuvered her out of my bedroom. I think Emma was glad this part was over, even though must have been a bit nervous about being sent to bed. She must have felt that there was something strange about that, and of course she was right. It was strange to bring a twenty year old to bed, just after a nasty spanking, but this whole situation was strange. Emma was not a normal twenty year old, but what do you define as normal. There were problems in her childhood that followed her around, and that defined her what she was today. And me? Was I normal? I had to admit that I also had my quirks, and today I had the satisfaction of playing out one of my quirks. I brought Emma to her room. The door was closed and I had my hands full. Emma helped. She opened the door for me and I stepped in. Emma must have been curious, or maybe she didn’t expect anything to be strange at all. But as soon as I carried her inside, I felt her body tense again. Her breathing stopped for a moment and I heard her gasp. “I think you remember the remark I made a month ago?” I said. I felt that she wanted to get out of my arms, but I kept her tight. “Someone said something about what you felt for me. I don’t know the exact words anymore. But they were implying that we end up in bed together, that’s for sure.” Our faces were very close and she looked at me for a moment. I watched her face from the moment we stepped into the room. She wasn’t pleased, she wasn’t pleased at all. She looked surprised at first, but then her expression quickly changed to shocked. “You know what I said? You remember that?” I asked, but knew she remembered it lividly. She was shocked and angry, while everybody was laughing. She felt so humiliated that she ran from the company restaurant where we had all lunch together. “I said that I thought you were so young that I would only feel comfortable with you in my bed when you were diapered.” I already knew that she had a crush on me, and this was my first attempt to push her away. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t the right match for her. But it didn’t work. It worked for a few hours, that’s all. “Everybody thought it was a joke. Everybody laughed. Except you.” I said. “Do you still think it was a joke?” I brought her over to the big changing table and sat her down on it. The plastic cover of the changing mat compressed under her weight, but it may not have been prepared for her weight, it was long enough for her to lie down on. For now she just sat in the middle of it, but with her bare feet already on the changing mat too. Emma started shaking her head in disgust. She didn’t understand what she saw and I Think she didn’t realized yet what it meant for her. Maybe she still thought this was all a joke, maybe a bit elaborate to be a joke, but still a joke.. But it wasn’t a joke. This was dead serious. I spent a lot of time and money in preparing this room for her, without even knowing for sure it would be used at all. I hoped it would, but I couldn’t be certain. I saw her look around. She already noticed the pink changing mattress she was sitting on. It was just like one for babies, but only a lot bigger. Now I saw her eyes look at her bed. It was a giant crib, with bars that ended high above the mattress. The mattress itself was already up from the floor, much higher than on a normal bed. She looked at her crib for a moment and then looked at me. “It wasn’t a joke, Emma.” I said again. “I will help you undress, then I will diaper you before you will be put to bed.” “No… No… Why?” She stammered. “No questions. Let’s get you in bed, little girl. I will answer all your questions after your nap. She was still shaking her head in disgust while I started to open the buttons of her shirt. Chapter 9 – Undressed Just before I could open the last of the four buttons of her shirt she froze. She pushed my hands away. Not like she was in a panic, but more gentle and calm. With her sitting on the changing table our eyes were on the same level. She could look me straight in the eyes. She slowly shook her head. “No… Please.” She whispered. I smiled at her. I understood that she would be hesitant, and that she needed some time to comprehend what was happening to her. But my plan was to let her think about that in bed, and for that I needed her diapered, and… for that I needed her naked and lying down on the plastic mattress. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t do anything to you that I wouldn’t do to my nieces and nephews.” It was a joke of course, but at the same time a way to let her know that I would treat her like a child. So, I pushed her hands aside, with exact the amount of force that I needed, and opened the last button of her shirt. I immediately pulled her arms out of the short sleeves and threw her shirt on the ground. “No, no.” She protested again and she felt my hands on her back, opening her bra. Now she panicked a bit. She knew she was helpless and I knew she was afraid of me at the moment. That was totally understandable after the spanking I just gave her. “Please, Peter. I…” I already managed to open her bra and pulled it away. Her face became red in shame and while I tried to maneuver her arms out of the straps of her bra, she placed her arms horizontally over her chest. She seem to protect herself more from my eyes, and less from my hands. “What is it? Why are you so suddenly so shy? This is not the first time I am going to see you naked, is it?” I asked, and again with a little smile. I tried to lessen the tension as much as possible, and at the same time make sure that she knew I was serious about this. I almost had her bra completely off, but with her left hand she tried to hold on to it. “Is it the first time I am going to see you naked?” I asked again, but this time with a bit more power in my voice. She let her fingers relax a bit and I could pull the strap out of her fist. She looked at me, now even redder than before. She shook her head. After I tossed her bra on the ground I placed my hands on her shoulder. “It is not, isn’t it?” I said amused. A few days after my joke in the company restaurant we had our monthly drinks. It was quite busy and of course my joke was still a topic of conversation. When I wanted to go home around nine, I went to my office to get my coat and laptop, but I found a bit more than I had expected. Emma had been waiting for me in my office, and she was desperate to proof to me that she wasn’t a child. I found her sitting on my desk, completely naked. I was stunned and laughed. I had never considered her to be a possible sexual partner, and presenting herself to me naked didn’t help at all. I brought my face a bit closer to hers and we met eye to eye. “I probably should have given you a thorough spanking back then. That would have saved me from a lot of time and money to prepare this room for you.” She blushed and looked down, too ashamed to look at me. I continued to look at her all the same, before my hands slid along her arms to her elbows. “Don’t be afraid, little girl.” I said, and I grabbed her lower arms and helped her lying down on the changing mat. I pushed her sideways and turned her a bit so her back her the plastic cover and she pulled her feet on the mat. Her only garment was now her skirt, and her breast came in full view when I pushed her hands behind her head on the mattress. I held her arms there for a few seconds to let her know that her hands belong there, and when I let go of her hands they indeed stayed put. Without any problems I could open the zipper of her skirt and pull it down. I felt the shiver through her body and heard her gasp for air, but she lay perfectly still for me. Her skirt became the last piece of clothing on the ground as she was now completely naked. For a moment she panicked. She started to sit up and tried to cover herself with her hands. I was prepared for that and I quickly grabbed an ankle and pulled it up and a bit in the direction of her belly. Her other leg followed and she was forced to resign her bid to sit up. With her legs in the air I had access to her bums. I slapped her, not too hard, but it shocked her. I immediately felt her resistance break. The tension left her body and she was under my control again. “Don’t so that, please.” I said. She pulled her hands back behind her head. “S… Sorry… Please.” She whispered. She regretted her moment of rebellion and realized again that she was not in control anymore. I caressed her forehead as a sign of forgiveness. If this was the only time she didn’t do what she was supposed to do, then I would call that a success. Chapter 10 – Diapered! With one hand she held the wrist of her other hand, and her head was turned to the wall. The only movement she made was her chest going up and down for her breathing. Maybe she didn’t dare to move, afraid of another spanking, or she accepted the fact that I could see her completely naked, and that I would diaper her. When I grabbed her ankles and crossed them, her knees bended and her legs opened. She was even more vulnerable now, but she still didn’t move. I took both her ankles in one hand and raised them. I brought the over her belly, but not too high. Her knees moved outside and her back arched a bit. Not only I had an unobstructed view at everything between her legs, I could access it as easily with my right hand. Her bottom was still red from the spanking, and it must still hurt a bit. With my free right hand I opened the top drawer and found the soothing cream. It wasn’t easy to open the tube with one hand but I didn’t want to let her ankles go. To be honest I wasn’t a pro in caring for babies, and most certainly not for babies as big as Emma. I squished some crème directly from the tube on each of her cheeks and then started to rub it in. I did it slowly and with care. My touch must have hurt, but the crème should make the pain go away sooner. “I’m sorry I had to spank you.” I apologized again. “I hope I have never have to do that again.” Emma was still looking at the wall. She let me do what I wanted to do, and she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t need to look, she felt everything I did to her. I tried to be as gentle as I could be, but I was rubbing her abused behind, so it couldn’t be enjoyable. I had to let her skin absorb the crème for a moment and I needed to clean my right hand, so I decided to let her loose for a moment. I stood by to see what her legs would do now I didn’t keep them in place, but nothing happened. She held her legs up, her knees out, and her ankles crossed, so I could grab a towel and dry my hands. “I know this is not a comfortable position, but please hold on for a moment.” I said to her. I put my right hand on her upper thigh and tried to lay my right hand on her forehead and caress her, but the shook my hand away. She was clearly angry at me, but that was OK. I was not angry at her anymore, I was even proud at her that she let me do what I needed to do. I pulled my hands back and started gathering her clothes from the floor. I folded them and put them on the end of the changing table. I wasn’t in a hurry at all. Emma was in a very vulnerable and humiliating position and she stayed like that without me holding here. She just laid there, naked and hurt, waiting for me to continue. I grabbed a diaper from the pile and right next to her head I began to unfold it. The plastic made a lot of noise, but Emma kept looking at the wall. Off course she wore diapers as a kid, but nobody can remember that part of your life. So like most people her age, this would be her first time she would be diapered like a child and actually remember it. Her diaper was white and very think. This wasn’t just a medical diaper, it was much thicker and the tape landing zone on the front was showing cute little bears. Emma didn’t see that. She kept her eyes closed, but she knew what was happening. She had heard the loud crackling of the plastic when I folded the sides of the diaper outwards, and maybe she did some babysitting in the past and recognized the sound. But now it was Emma who was getting diapered. I thought about saying something, but I decided to let her be for the moment. I pushed the back of her diaper under her and positioned the diaper. Then I let her take her legs down and guided her feet down to the changing table. I pushed her knees outwards and pulled the diaper up between her legs. I folded it over her belly. One by one I grabbed the blue tapes, opened them, and pushed them on the tape landing zone, covering part of the childish figures. I closed all for tapes and as a last check I ran my finger between the diaper and the inside of her legs. I felt the elastics and concluded that I did a prefect job. She was diapered! Emma felt that the diaper was closed and slowly started the move a little. She opened her eyes and looked up at me. She blushed and looked away again. She tries to stretch her legs, felt the bulk between her legs and heard the plastic of her diaper protesting. I smiled. “You’re a good girl and I am proud of you.” I said. She shook her head in disgust, or shame, or anger. I didn’t care which emotion she was showing. If it were up to me this wasn’t the last time I diapered her, and I even hoped I could even change her diaper tonight. But I knew that chance was slim, and that she needed time to cope with what happened today. “You wanted to stay the night, I said that I wanted you in diapers. I kept my word. Now, let’s get you ready for bed.” “No, no, no.” She said, but each no was softer than the one before. I knew she resigned to her fate. Chapter 11 – Naptime I helped her sitting up. She let me help her but she wasn’t looking me in the eye. She just looked down. Maybe she was looking at the diaper, or maybe she was just blankly staring down. I realized I still had about ten guests in the garden, and I could hear them through the window that was slightly open. I knew I could leave them alone, and they all knew something was happening with me and Emma. They were probably gossiping about us, but for now what was happening here was still a secret. But not for long. I picked an onesie from the small stack I ordered not so long ago. I hoped I had the right size, but too be absolutely sure I bought a slightly bigger and a slightly smaller one. This one was white, had short sleeves, and three snaps to close it between the legs. I held the arm openings open for her and she reluctantly pushed her hands through them. I pulled the onesie over her head and then further down. If she was glad that her upper body was covered again she didn’t let it show. Maybe the shame for her diaper was much bigger than the fact that I could see her breasts. First I fixed her short sleeves, and pulled them straight, then I let Emma lie on her back again. I pulled the backside of her onesie form under her bottom. She spread her legs for me and made it easy for me to close the onesie in between her legs. The onesie might cover most past of her diaper, it didn’t hide it at all. Not only the diaper was wider between her legs than the onesie, also the thickness of the diaper didn’t leave any questions about what she wore as underwear. I was just glad I bought the right size onesies. It fit her perfectly. It seemed to be comfortably snuck around her body, but not too tight. I left Emma on the changing table for a moment. I wasn’t afraid she would get off by herself, or that she would run away. I also didn’t think she would open her onesie and remove her diaper. I was almost a hundred percent sure that she would just lie there and wait for me to help her in bed. And that was exactly what I was about to do. First I opened the lock on the side of the bed and let the whole side slide down. I found a beautiful and childlike bed for her online. It had cost me a small fortune to buy it and let it be delivered here, but I found it worth every penny. It was just like a children’s bed, with a raised mattress and high barred sides. It wasn’t a cage, but inside the bed it must feel like that with bars all around. Only the ceiling you could see without restrictions, but even it you would climb over the side you still had to face the almost 2 meter high drop to the ground. That wasn’t a problem for an adult off course, but the sides were supposed to be more of a psychological barrier than a psychical one. And I hoped that it would make her feel small and childish. I also hoped that she would recognize and appreciate the effort I made in preparing this room for her. I could understand that she wouldn’t really appreciate it right now, but I hoped that this was not the first and the last time I had her here in this room. I also bought a special sleeping bag for her, similar to the ones babies sleep in. It was light blue and not too thick for her too sleep in during the summer. It was smaller at the top and it has openings for her arms. It had a zipper on the back from top to bottom. I brought it over to the changing table and Emma looked at it with disgust. I opened the zipper from the bottom upwards. Emma shook her head and she looked at me for a moment. She saw the smile on my face and probably realized that she didn’t have choice. I draped the sleeping bag over her and helper her arms through the holes. I then helped her turn around. Now she was lying on her stomach and I could close the zipper just below her neck and pull the zipper all the way down. At last her feet disappeared in the sleeping bag. I helped her turn around again and helped her sit up. Her short white sleeves showing, but the rest of her onesie was covered by the sleeping bag. The light blue sleeping bag covered her shoulders and gave just enough space around her neck to be comfortable, but still we tight enough to not be able to pull her head inside. “Isn’t it nice, and comfortable?” I asked. Now she was sitting up our heads were not far apart. She wasn’t looking at me. I waited for a moment to give her a bit of time to respond, but she didn’t say anything. She even didn’t move and just sat there. “Can you please look at me?” I asked nicely, and after a few seconds she turned her head and looked me in the eyes. I saw a little bit of anger, but also shame, but mostly I saw the helplessness in her eyes. She was indeed helpless. I was in control, and she could only just go with the flow. Even though she, more or less, underwent this whole ordeal voluntarily. “Thank you for cooperating. I can understand that this isn’t easy for you, but I am very proud of you, of your behavior. Thank you for that.” I said. I wanted to kiss her on her forehead, but I wasn’t fast enough and I gave her the opportunity to reject it, and she took it. I was OK with that, for now. “I think you understand what I expect of you, but to be entirely certain I will tell you my rules.” I said. She blushed a bit and looked away. “You are not allowed to touch your diaper. I diapered you, and I will take your diaper off when I decide it is time for that, or I will change your diaper when it needs to be changed before that time. Is that understood?” I said. I tried to keep the tone of my voice not too strict, but the same time I wanted her to know that I was serious. She nodded. I think I saw her shiver a bit when I told her that I might need to change her diaper. I could only hope that she urgently needed to pee soon, and that she then was forced to use her diaper. It was already a dream come true that I could spank and diaper her, and I couldn’t hope for more, but a man could dream. “Just to be sure.” I said with a sly smile. “I don’t mind if your diaper is wet when I come get you out of bed later. I don’t mind at all.” I said. Emma grunted something softly that I could not understand, and probably it was just a generic noise of disapproval. “Also, you are not allowed to open your sleeping bag. And off course you are also not allowed to climb out of bed when the sides are up. Understood?” She nodded again. “If you want I can help you.” I said after a short pause. “I can lock your sleeping bag so that you can’t open it and so you can’t touch your diaper. I don’t want to spank you again, so if you are afraid you can’t control yourself then please tell me.” She abruptly turned her head and looked me in the eyes. She was angry now. “You… The lock is not necessary.” She said. “Did I not do everything you asked of me?” I didn’t expect her to react to fiercely, but I smiled forgivingly. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You behaved perfectly.” I bent forward to her and wrapped my arms around her. I pulled her close to me, and although she resisted me for a moment she knew she was too late to react this time. Our heads were side by side and I kissed her just above her ear. Then I repositioned my right arm under her and took her in my arms. She was not too heavy and I carried her too her bed. I laid her down on the mattress and she stretched her legs. She was still or het back. I kissed her on her forehead and she let me. “I am so proud of you, little girl.” I said, with the biggest smile possible. “Please try to rest for a bit. I will come get you in a few hours.” I stepped back a bit, pulled the side of the bed up and enclosed her in bars. She immediately turned on her stomach, facing the wall. I walked to the window, looked outside to my guests in the garden and closed the curtains. It didn’t darken the room very much, but it kept the sun out. I looked at Emma again, at her white onesie sticking out of the light blue sleeping bag, through the white bars of the oversized baby crib. With that picture in mind I left her bedroom, closed the door and went back to my guests. I had some explaining to do to my colleagues. Chapter 12 – My little girl Two and a half hours I left her alone. Via a baby monitor I checked on her regularly. It made it possible for me to see her at any time via an app on my phone. I had seen her restless in the beginning, not sure what to do and unable to find a comfortable position. She turned and turned and eventually settled down on her side, faced towards the room, and with her arm under her head as some kind of pillow. I didn’t think she slept, or even tried to sleep. It must have been turmoil in her head, thinking about what she has been through, and what she expected to happen next. I couldn’t possibly know what she was really thinking about, and I could only hope that she didn’t hate me too much. When I opened the door to her bedroom she looked me in the eye. She was sitting in the corner of her bed, with her back against the bars and her knees pulled up. She had her arms wrapped around her legs and I had seen on my phone that she had rested her head on top of her knees. She followed me with her eyes, as I smiled lovingly. I first went to the window and opened the curtains. The sun blinded my eyes but Emma was still in the shadow. I went to her and lowered the side of the bed. She looked at me with a little bit of fear in her eyes. “Can… Can I go now?” She asked. I shook my head. “No. Bob will take you home if you want, but not before eleven tonight.” I said. She bowed her head. “You are my little girl, at least until eleven, and I hope for whole the weekend.” She shook her head again, this time with more determination. She kept looking at me, but not directly into my eyes. Maybe she hoped that her sad face would make me more lenient. “Please lie down.” I asked. “What… What are you going to do?” She asked softly, but she already moved to the middle of the bed and laid down on her back. “Let me first get you out of your sleeping bag.” I said. “Then I will check your diaper and change you, if needed.” She looked at me angrily. “What? Off course you don’t need to change me.” She shouted. “Don’t be mad. You are wearing a diaper and you will wear a diaper for as long as you are in, or around, my house.” I smiled at her. “So, I suppose you will be wet before the evening is over.” She shook her head again, this time almost frantically. She panicked and sat up. “No, no… Please.” Now I shook my head and looked at her sternly. “Lie down, Emma.” I put my finger under her chin, pushed her head up a bit and let her look me in the eyes. “You behaved almost perfectly until now. You should have been lying down in bed, and not sitting up, but that I will forgive you. This time. Please don’t start misbehaving now, because I will not tolerate that.” She laid down again, but kept looking up at me with pleading eyes. “So, as I said, first I will check your diaper and then I will take you downstairs.” “But… But what...” I almost smiled. Off course she was afraid that anyone would see her in a diaper. The clothes that she wore when she arrived here would not conceal her diaper, it probably wouldn’t even fit over her diaper. “You don’t need to be ashamed. We are going to show everyone that you are still a little girl. A very pretty little girl, and a very good behaving little girl. We are going to show everyone what you really are, and that you are not the bratty, foul-mouthed and arrogant young woman that you pretend to be.” She was in shock. Her face turned white and froze. I used that to turn her around and open the zipper all the way up until the two sides came apart. I helped her out of the sleeping bag and folded the sleeping bag and put it on the end of the bed. Emma was already on her back again. I pushed my hands between her legs pushed her legs apart. I opened her onesie and pulled it up. Her diaper came in full view and I could clearly see that her diaper was still dry. I thought about opening her diaper and look at her buttocks to see if they were still red, but I decided not to do that. I closed her onesie, but that didn’t conceal her diaper completely. “Are you ready?” I asked. “R… Ready?” “To show your colleagues that you are still a little girl?” I smiled. She shook her head. I helped her sitting up, and then I guided her legs over the side of the bed. She let me, but with hesitation. “Please…” She pleaded. “Don’t be afraid. You don’t need to be ashamed. Nobody will laugh at you.” I knew I couldn’t convince her to not be afraid or ashamed, but I wanted to give her at least some kind of support. “And to be honest, I have to confess that everybody heard that I had to spank you. I shouldn’t have left the window open.” “What? No!” She said, and I saw her eyes get watery. The knowledge that all of her colleagues knew what had happened to her, made her even less willing to go downstairs. But she had no choice. I would take her downstairs, in her diaper and onesie, and show everyone that she was a little girl. And Emma realized that too. Chapter 13 – No secrets With her legs over the side of the bed I stood right before her. I looked her in the eyes. She looked differently without her make-up, and I never really looked at her without all the stuff she used. I thought she was much prettier without it, and with her hair loosely over her shoulders, she looked so much friendlier. And with her wearing that cute onesie, and her diaper showing underneath, the picture was complete. “Let’s get you downstairs. You must be thirsty.” I gently picked up her hands and put them on my shoulders. She shook her head and was clearly shocked, but I already pushed my hands underneath her, between the diaper and the bed. I lifted her up from the bed and she leaned forwards against my body. I felt her arms around my neck and her face next to my right ear. She also wrapped her legs around me for a bit of support. She was not that big, but still heavy to carry downstairs. “Pl… Please, not… Can I stay here?” She pleaded softly in my ear. “No, off course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” I said. “Please, I will… I will be a little girl. I will… pee, and I… You… I will let you change… change me.” I laughed while I carried her out of her room. “I think the evening is still long and you will wet your diaper anyway.” I said. “And I will change you whenever and wherever I want, little girl.” I tried to sound firm and strong, but she must have heard the laugh I was desperately trying to hide. I felt a shiver passing through her On the way down she was quit, and I had to concentrate to get her safely down the stairs. Maybe she was bit scared that I’d fall, and that she was trying to be as still as possible. Only after we were safely on the ground floor, I heard her voice in my ear again. “I… I want to go home.” “You can, but not now. Later tonight, I told you already. Until then I need you to behave and show everyone what a pretty, well-behaved little girl you are.” I felt her body tense up as I carried her into the kitchen. The noticed the first spectator looking at her, and I felt the tension in her body building up. She clearly didn’t want this to happen, but seemed to have accepted that she wasn’t in control anymore. Off course I could understand her. Until now she was an independent young woman, pretending to be confident and all grown up, showing her body to everyone, showing her curves. Just showing a lot of skin. She wanted people to notice her. But for me she just looked like a little girl in a grown-up body, hiding her real self behind the make-up, and the short skirts, and the almost-all-revealing tops. Until today. Today her life changed radically. She didn’t need to pretend anymore, because everyone would look at her, and see what she really was. And most likely they would all realize that deep inside they already knew. They all knew already that Emma was not the grownup, self-confident woman she pretended to be. Kathleen was the first to see this young woman in a completely different set of clothes. Kathleen worked in the Finance department, and I knew Emma did some work for her department, and I also knew she didn’t liked Emma. Now Kathleen looked at me, then at Emma and I saw her gaze go down and recognize the diaper. Kathleen smiled and Emma saw that. Emma hid her face in my neck, and her arms and legs around me hugged me a little tighter. Emma knew she could not fight it. She knew that she was to be presented to the rest of her colleagues. She knew everybody would see her in her diaper and onesie. “She is a bit shy now.” I said to Kathleen, with a sly smile on my face. I carried Emma through the kitchen and into the garden. As soon as we entered the garden everybody stopped talking and stared looking at us. Or, to be more precise, they looked at Emma. Everybody looked at the white onesie with short sleeves, and the diaper that was peeking out between her legs. The onesie wasn’t any good at hiding her diaper anyway, because you could see the back of her diaper through the white cotton. “Please, don’t make it harder for this little girl than it already is.” I said loudly. “Yes, I spanked her for lying to me. And yes, I spanked her for showing up while she clearly knew she wasn’t welcome her. Although I am sorry I had to hurt her like that, I will not tolerate that kind of behavior.” Everybody looked at me, nodded, and some even smiled a little. I felt Emma gasping for air, but she didn’t attempt to break free out of my arms. “And, as you can see, I diapered her and I will keep her in diapers for as long as she is here. As long as she behaves like a child, I will treat her like one.” I said, while slowly I turned around. I looked at all my colleagues and let all colleagues see the little girl in my arms. “No, no… Stop. I… I am an adult.” She whispered in my ear, so soft that nobody else could hear it. I turned my head and she tilted her head a bit backwards. We were looking in each other’s eyes while our noses touched. “No, you are not. Especially not while I am in charge.” I smiled and managed to give her a quick kiss on her cheek. “But don’t be afraid, or ashamed. I will take care of you, I will help you, and… and I will make sure you learned your lesson.” Then I whispered something else in her ear. “And I love you, but not in the way you hoped for.” I felt her reaction when I said I loved her. Maybe she was surprised by it, or maybe she was just glad to hear it. It was certainly not the love she craved for, but this was what I could give her. I knew her situation at home was not as stable as I had when I was her age, and I wanted her to know I could care for her, but she needed to understand the consequences of her choices. I carried her to a blanket I already had spread out on the grass, a bit to the side, and away from the bulk of the people. I let her down and she landed on her feet. Now she was on the ground she pulled her arms back and I could give her another kiss. Again it was quick, but this time it was on her forehead. “Let me care for you, little girl.” I said. She shook her head, slowly. Her face was red from the shame she felt and she didn’t want to look in the direction of her colleagues. “Please sit down.” I said gently. “You are not allowed of this blanket. I will get you everything you need.” She looked at me in disgust, but she did sit down. She pulled in her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m not a baby!” She snorted while she looked up at me. “No, you are not a baby.” I laughed. “But you are a little girl.” I looked at her for a moment and then smiled. “Don’t be a naughty little girl.” I turned around and walked away. Chapter 14 – Warm milk She was sitting alone in her part of the garden. She was left alone by all of us, and she was certainly not going to attract any attention on purpose. She sat with her back to us, facing the high bushes surrounding the garden. She had put her knees up and leaned with her arms on them, and let her head rest on her arms. She must have felt lonely, but probably thought that lonely was better than being diapered and surrounded by colleagues. I wasn’t going to leave her alone for a long time. I had promised to let her go home at the end of the evening, if she wanted to. I could not keep her here if she really wanted to leave, but that was more for moral or legal reasons, than of a mere physical reason. I could easily lock her in the sleeping bag, and she wouldn’t go anywhere without me noticing, and preventing, it. So that meant that my time with her was limited, unless she wanted to stay. And I wasn’t sure she was ready to admit to herself that it was better for her to stay, or that she wanted to stay. With that in mind I prepared the next step, and then walked over to Emma. I crouched down beside her. She looked at me for a second, and then looked the other way, a bit too theatrically. “Go away.” She said softly. I shook my head. “No, I can’t do that.” I touched her shoulder. Did she shiver a bit? Was she afraid of me, or did I just startle her? “I have something to drink for you.” I said, but she again shook her head. I expected nothing else, and slowly, but firmly, I grabbed her and positioned her the way I wanted to. She didn’t help me, but she didn’t reject it that much too. I was already sitting and Emma was sideways in front of me. I let her head rest against my shoulder and supported her with my right arm around her back. She looked a bit surprised and it seemed she still didn’t know what was about to happen. She looked up, while I held her in my arms, and didn’t see the bottle coming. The nipple of the full-size baby bottle was already in her mouth before she could reject it. She closed her mouth too late and the big nipple was already filled a large part of her mouth. I held the bottle up and she must already feel the warm milk seep into her mouth. I prepared the nipple so that even if she didn’t suck on the nipple it would still release a little bit of fluid. Now she looked shocked and tried to push the nipple out with her tongue. “No, Emma. No!” I said loudly, and I felt her resistance fade away. “Be a good little girl and let me feed you.” She shook her head and her head turned slightly red. She was now facing her colleagues and she could see them looking at us. She looked away and decided to do what she was supposed to do. I could feel her trying to figure out how to get more milk out of the nipple, and I didn’t take long before she was swallowing the warm milk every few seconds. I gave her a small kiss on her forehead. “You’re a good girl.” I said. “You need to drink a lot, because I want your diaper wet before the evening is over.” I smiled at her and she looked shocked again. This couldn’t be a big surprise for her. She must have known I wanted her to wet her diaper like a baby, and I didn’t just diaper her for fun. I wanted her to use the diaper for what it was intended for. “No, please.” She said softly. I pulled the bottle back for a moment and let her speak. Her lips were white with the milk and it dripped a bit down her chin. I set the bottle aside a wiped her mouth clean. “You’re diaper will be wet before the evening is over.” I tried to look firmly, but she must have seen that I wasn’t angry. I was just amused and enjoying myself. “I can bottle feed you at least four more bottles like these, and not even a big girl can’t hold that much.” She shook her head again and started to say something, but I put the nipple back in her mouth. She swallowed her words, and the warm milk. And she swallowed her pride. I let her drink for a minute. It was a big bottle and drinking was slow, so only about a third of the milk had passed her mouth. Emma lay comfortably in my arms, her legs spread out on the blanket, her back supported by my arm, and the side of her head gently resting against my shoulder. She didn’t look up at me, and she didn’t look at her colleagues who sometimes looked our way. I didn’t think it looked like Emma was uncomfortable in any way, she seemed like a happy toddler being bottle-fed. Except Emma was a bit bigger than a normal toddler. But like a toddler, she was wearing a diaper. And whether she liked it or not, her diaper would definitely become wet during the night. I just hoped she was still wearing a diaper at the end of the night, and sleeping in her crib. Chapter 15 – Hesitations “I don’t think I should let you go home tonight.” I said. She almost finished her bottle of warm milk and her belly was full. The milk would gradually work its way to her blather, and would eventually make her diaper wet and bulky. Emma shook her head while she looked up at me for a few seconds. Her movement caused the escape of a few drops of milk from the corner of her mouth. They dribbled down on to her chin and she wanted to wipe them away with her hand, but I stopped her. The white milk on her pink skin didn’t bother me, and made her just look a little bit more childish. “I should keep you in diapers all weekend, little girl.” She again shook her head when I spoke to her. She wanted to talk, but with the nipple between her lips and the constant flow of milk in her mouth she knew she couldn’t do it without spilling some milk. The bottle was almost empty when I took it out of her mouth. She swallowed once and then looked up to me. “No, please… I can’t… I…” She said, softly. Off course I noticed that she didn’t say that she did not want it, but that she could not. “Yes, you can.” I said with a smile. “No, no… I… I need to work on… on my thesis. It… The deadline is in a month.” “You could have finished that by now, you should have finished that by now!” I said. “But you decided to pick up another project that was not part of your thesis. You shouldn’t have done that. This is your own fault.” “It’s… But…” “I know its part of a project with a strict deadline, but that is not your problem.” I said, and pushed the nipple of the bottle back into her mouth. She tried to reject it for a moment, but soon closed her mouth around it. I tilted the bottle and the last bit of the milk started to drip into her mouth again. “You are risking your thesis, and for what? You’re not even paid for this side-job.” I saw her blush a little, as she realized I was right. She shouldn’t have said yes when John asked her to do this. She drank the last bit of milk. With a big smile I looked down on her. “Very good, little girl. I am proud of you. You drank the whole bottle. I suppose you had to be very thirsty.” I pulled the nipple out of her mouth and now she could speak again. “And… And I need to work. I… I need… I need the money.” She said shyly, and looked up at me. I shook my head. I put the empty bottle aside and wiped her lips and chin clean. “No, no, no. Work, study, side-project. That is way too much for you.” I said with a serious tone in my voice. “Your study is almost finished, forget all the rest. Little girls like you should sleep a lot, and play. Do some coloring, play with dolls, watch cartoons. Stuff like that.” She shook her head. “I… I can’t do that.” “And there is something else. Your mother called, she…” “She is not my mother!” She interrupted me, almost angry. “…She said you were supposed to babysit tonight?” I asked. Emma shook her head, again, and let out a clearly noticeable sigh. “No, no… I said I couldn’t… She can’t expect me to… to babysit all the time.” “Now she is taking the money for the babysitter out of your bank account, she said. Can she do that? Can she take your money?” I heard her confirm that, but very softly. “Does she often take money from your account?” I asked, and again she nodded slightly. “Does she takes too much? I mean, more than you agreed to for… for general cost of living. It’s OK, and it’s normal, that you pay for something, but…” “She takes it all.” Emma said. “I… I need to work tomorrow.” She looked up, and pleaded. “Please, please let me go home tonight.” She begged. I pulled her close to me, and felt sorry for her. She was taken advantage of by her stepmother, had to work to get her money get stolen by her stepmother, and still managed to do well in school. And then also started a side-project, just to please somebody else at work. “I… I will be a… your little girl…. Tonight. I… I am… already… But… But, please. Please let me go home tonight.” I think she was crying, although I couldn’t see her face. I felt her body tremble for a moment and slowly she pushed her legs apart. It was only now that I realized she was peeing. My little girl Emma was wetting her diaper! Chapter 16 – No worries With what I had heard from Emma, I was even more determined to not let her go home tonight. I wanted her to be diapered this whole weekend. I wanted her in her crib for at least 12 hours a day. I wanted her to play, and watch TV, and maybe do some coloring for me. I wanted her to feel small, helpless and care-free. First step was to get rid of the stress she had. Some of that was her own fault, and some of it was because of her situation at home. But to be honest, most problems she had I had already anticipated, and without her knowing, already solved for her. It wasn’t too hard. With everything she had said to me, I believed I could let her stay her this whole weekend without feeling that I had gotten her in some kind of trouble. I smiled while walking upstairs. I picked the things I needed for her, and for the next step in her transition. And I simply wanted to play dress-up. I took it all downstairs, but left a few things on the kitchen table. When I returned to Emma she was still sulking. Her mood didn’t get any better when she saw what I brought her. I kneeled beside her, kissed her on her forehead and then pushed her on her back, gently but with just enough power to overcome her reluctance. My hands worked themselves between her legs and opened the buttons of her onesie and started to pull it up. While she was lying on her back, I pulled the onesie up and over her head. She was naked except for her diaper now, but she seemed for worried about her wet diaper than her exposed breasts. She brought her hands down and tried to cover her diaper. I let her. I wasn’t interested in her diaper right now. I already saw she had indeed wet her diaper, but it was not much. I was showing though, and it was clearly visible that she wet her diaper like a little girl. I let her stand up, let her put her hands out, and guided her hands and her head in the pink dress. I pulled it down and Emma let me. The pink diaper with short, frilly sleeves, and much more frills down below. Standing up the dress just covered her diaper, but I wouldn’t let her stand all night. “You must be lonely here.” I said. “You don’t need to be shy.” I smiled at her and put my hand out for her. I wanted her to take it so I could walk her to my other guests. I wanted them to meet baby Emma, but Emma didn’t agree. She shook her head and looked at me with a mixture of fear and shame. I smiled again. I knew Emma would know by now that if I wanted her between the other guests, she would be there shortly. Still she didn’t take my hand and looked down. Her face turned a bit of red. I gave her a hug, pulled her against my body, and wrapped my arms around her. I caressed her, pulled my fingers softly between her hairs. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got another nice bottle of milk for you, and then something healthy to eat.” “No… no…” She stammered, and I felt a shiver pass through her body. “Yes, yes.” I said with a big smile. I let her go out of the hug and my hand found hers. I did a small step and felt her hand tense up. I didn’t let her go, and neither did she try to. Her grip just got a little tighter. “Don’t be shy.” I said. “You look beautiful.” I did another small step and Emma followed. Her bare feet stepped on the grass and slowly she followed me. Step by step we came closer to the small crowd, gathered around a few high tables. They were drinking, talking, laughing, and generally having a good time. When they saw us getting closer, it became silent. They were looking at us, but mostly at Emma. Her over-the-top frilly dress in pink was hard to miss. A few people were sitting around the wooden garden table. The wooden bench was empty and I lead Emma to the bench. I sat first and then I pulled Emma towards me. I let her sit on my lap and let her head rest against my shoulder. I positioned a little better so her upper body was a leaning backwards a bit. Kathleen handed me the bottle I had prepared, and I directly pushed the nipple between her lips. She opened her mouth a bit and accepted the bottle. I tilted the bottle up and Emma started drinking immediately. Her face was pointing to the other people, but she had her eyes closed. Her legs were slightly spread and I don’t think she realized that most of my guest had a perfect view of her diaper. Her dress was not long enough to cover it anymore now she was sitting in my lap. And not only could everybody see that see wore a diaper, it couldn’t be missed that she used for its intended purpose. “I think you were thirsty.” I said. She didn’t waste any time and I could see the level of milk slowly, but steadily, get lower and lower. I pulled her a bit more on my lap and placed my free hand between her legs on her diaper. I felt the thickness of the diaper where it had absorbed her pee. It could handle a lot more, and another liter of milk was coming that way. “O, hello.” I said. “Sorry that I’m not entertaining you all, but this little girl is in need of a bit more attention.” “No problem, no problem at all.” Kathleen said. “Very understandable. And I see that a diaper change is needed too.” I laughed. “I’ll change her in an hour or so when I bring her to bed. It’s already way past her bedtime, but it’s a party so I let her stay up.” Emma opened her eyes and looked up at me. I saw she was separate to speak, so I pulled the nipple out of her mouth. “What… I… You promised… I want… I need to go home.” She begged me but laid still in my arms. “You, you’re not.” I said, and I pushed the nipple back inti her mouth. “You can trust me. You don’t need to worry about anything. Daddy will solve all your problems.” I said. She wanted to protest, but I felt her body resign. The tension left her body again and she relaxed again. Chapter 17 – Shock She seemed relaxed now. She even had her eyes open, while I fed her yoghurt met pieces of fruit. I had placed a bib on her to keep her dress clean, and every time I brought my spoon to her mouth she opened it voluntarily. In the mean time I saw her looking around. She looked at my guests, her colleagues, and sometimes her eyes met the gaze of one of them. Only then she showed some shyness when then quickly looked another way. I told her that I had gotten her an extension for her thesis. She was clearly relieved to hear that. I already heard that the latest version she submitted last month was already enough, and that version would already gotten her enough points to graduate. But Emma wanted it perfect, and I would gladly help her do that. But she would be doing that diapered. She accepted another spoonful of yoghurt with a big chunk of apple in it. She opened her mouth for it, without really looking. The apple graced her lips and left a big spot of yoghurt on her chin. She looked up and smiled at me. With a corner of her bib I wiped her chin clean. She seemed so happy now. Everybody was watching us, seeing how a twenty year old was dressed as a toddler and being spoon-fed like a little child. I knew for sure that nobody here had seen this before in real-life. But everybody accepted Emma’s fate, as most of them knew her, and knew how she behaved in the office lately. Even Emma seemed to accept her fate. I also told her that I thought she should get paid for her side-project. It was a project with a high priority, not a very difficult one albeit, but still one that took her a lot of time and had her make arrangements with a lot of different people and departments to gather all the data. Maybe it was the stress, but she had overplayed herself somewhat by demanding the cooperation of some people. People that had their own deadlines and responsibilities. Emma hadn’t made much friends with this project, and I knew that some of those colleagues thought this was a proper reward for her behavior. I couldn’t agree more. I told her that I had arranged that she got paid for three months of work, full pay, as If she was a normal employee. And that I would also arrange that it was paid to a newly opened bank account, so that nobody could take her money away again. Emma had silently listened. She had said nothing, but just slightly rubbed her head against me. She had then just simply kissed me where her lips could reach me. So she kissed me in my neck. The bowl with yoghurt and fruit was empty, and Emma’s stomach was full. I released her from her bib, but not before I thoroughly cleaned her face first. I complimented her on a good job, but she didn’t answer or acknowledge the compliment. She just rested against my body, sometimes with her eyes closed. She seemed to be completely at ease. She got up and looked me in the eyes. “Can… Can I go inside and watch TV?” I shook my head. “No, not today. It’s almost bedtime.” She didn’t like that. “What no. I’m… I’m OK with…” She started to protest, but I stopped her. “I don’t care about with what you are OK with, little girl.” I looked her in the eyes. “If I think its little-girl-bedtime, then that’s what it is. In a few minutes you can say goodnight to everybody, and then I’ll take you upstairs for a diaper change. You will be in your crib in 15 minutes, young lady!” I’m not sure where her sudden reluctance came from, or why she now suddenly felt that she didn’t like this at all. Maybe she realized that her adult life was partially over. Maybe she realized that her troubles may well be solved, but that the price she had to pay for that was maybe a bit too high. Or maybe she simply didn’t want to go to bed so early in the evening. Or maybe she was testing me to see how my reaction would be if she didn’t behave the way I liked her to. It didn’t really matter what her reasons would be, the end result would be exactly the same. She would be in her crib soon, and she would be thickly diapered, and she would be in a place where she was safe and secure and where she would not be able to escape from. Emma stood up and looked down on me with an annoyed look, maybe even a bit angry. She pulled her frilly dress down in a futile attempt to hide her wet diaper. She shook her head. “No, I want…” She started, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards me. “You have nothing to want. I make the rules here, and you have to follow them.” I said sharply. I wasn’t really angry. This was something that I anticipated. Changes didn’t come without some friction, and I was fully prepared, and willing, to show her who was in charge here. If I had to do it, I would put her over my lap, pull her diaper down, and spank her in full view of everybody around. And Emma knew that. But still she suddenly pulled her hand free, turned around and started running. I was surprised. I hadn’t expected this, but I was not worried. She would come far, dressed and diapered like this. “Emma, come here, now!” I yelled. Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at me, and then at Emma. But Emma didn’t stop. She continued to walk away. Emma was not even at the house when I saw her freeze. She suddenly stopped and stood still. It was not like she had a change of heart, but it looked like she had seen something. Something unexpected, and something very scary. I couldn’t see what that was. The party did feel silent for a moment. Everybody had noticed that Emma had ran away, although no one had tried to stop her. “Emma!” I heard someone shouting her name. Than a small silence “What the fuck… What… What is that?” Now I saw a woman coming out of the shadows. I instantly realized it was Emma’s stepmother. Chapter 18 – The stepmother Everyone fell quiet, and that’s why everybody could hear it. “Emma, you… What the fuck!” I heard Emma’s stepmom shout out. “What… What are you wearing?” Emma was now right in front of her mother, and she was so shocked that she didn’t knew what to do. So she did nothing. Her mother was so close, compared to her I was miles away. I already stood up, but it would take seconds for me to rescue her. “M… What… no, leave!” I hear Emma say, but not so loud, and not nearly as convincing as needed to be. Her mother looked at Emma, and her gaze over Emma went from top to bottom. I couldn’t imagine what she was supposed to think about it, but she reacted quickly. She reached for the diaper under the pink dress of her stepdaughter, grabbed it and tore it off. I heard, we all heard loudly, the plastic as it was ripped open. The wet diaper was thrown to the ground, with the slightly yellowed insides for all to see. “What… What is this! This dress? What the heck is happening here?” “Mom, no!” I heard Emma yell, now louder. I was still on my way, but I couldn’t prevent Emma being grabbed by her wrist. The pink, frilly dress was now the only thing Emma was wearing. Her stepmother started Emma dragging away, probably because she saw me coming, but Emma tried to resist as much as possible. She was no match though for the bigger and stronger woman. Emma was being pulled forward, with her bare bottom now facing to us. The spanking was still showing a bit, giving her behind a slightly darker color than the rest of her skin. It was also a little bit glistering in the light, as her skin as not entirely dry. “Stop that!” I shouted. “Let her go. You have no business here.” I was now only a few feet away, and I already knew that I could stop them before they were out of my garden. Emma’s stepmother realized that to and she stopped and faced me, but not before she pulled Emma in front of her, as some kind of protection. “I don’t know what is happening here, but I’m stopping it, right here, right now.” She said, as solemnly as she could muster. “Indeed, you don’t know what is happening here, but you are trespassing, Emma is an adult, and she is here voluntarily. So, please let her go, so I can take care of her.” I said. The woman looked at me, both angry and confused. I’m not sure what she expected to see, and what her goal was, but I knew that I was in the right here. “Care? What… You call this… That diaper, what…” She was out of words, but she kept her hand securely around Emma’s wrist. The stepmother was looking for words and not ready to give it up. “Not sure what she is doing here, but I’m not leaving my daughter with a forty-something year old pervert like you.” She looked me in the eyes and pulled Emma even closer. “She is in my care, and belongs with me and my son. Definitely not here, with you.” She kept looking me in the eyes, without fear and full of determination. “And we are leaving her, now. Emma, please get in the car. At home we will get you into some normal clothing again, out of this… this… abomination!” “No, mom… No.” Emma cried softly, but she felt the grip on her wrist get stronger and also felt she was pulled away from me. Emma was clearly afraid, and her eyes found mine. Her face was wet with tears, but suddenly she bowed her head. She didn’t let her stepmother win so easily, and braced herself in the grass. Then Emma’s free hand went to her face, and she tried to hide herself behind it. She made a sharp sound, and then moaned. Both Emma’s stepmother as I were distracted for a moment, and we both seemed to realize what was happening. Emma’s other hand was released and that was also quickly brought in front of her face. But both me and her stepmother didn’t look at her face, we looked at the pee that was coming down between Emma’s legs. At first her legs were closed, and the pee streamed via her inner thigh downwards, but Emma opened her legs, squatted a bit, and the steady stream now flowed directly into the grass. Emma sobbed loudly. I recovered more quickly from this shock than the older woman that was still looking at the wet grass under her stepdaughter. Without checking if Emma was finished or not, I walked up to her and hugged her. I pulled her against me. With a hand on her head I pushed her face gently against my chest, while my other hand lay still on her back. Emma accepted my hug. Her hands found their way around me and touched each other again behind me. The three of us stood there for half a minute, without speaking, speechless. I felt sorry for Emma, but was glad she had chosen me. “Emma? Do you want to stay here? With me?” I asked. I pushed as a little bit apart so I could look her in the eyes. “Or do you want to leave? That’s also OK by me.” I asked her seriously. “But I rather preferred it of you stay.” I whispered with a smile. I didn’t care that Emma’s stepmother could hear that. Emma looked up at me. “I want to stay.” She said to me. Then she turned around to her stepmother. “I’m staying her. Please, go home.” She said. Her stepmother was flabbergasted. Her stepdaughter, who was naked under that silly, frilly dress, made her choice, and eventually she understood that she lost. In a dramatic gesture she threw her hands in the air, turned around. And left. I saw Emma smile. Chapter 19 - Finally “That was scary.” I laughed and tried to deflate the stress situation. Emma looked up at me, and nodded. “I’m glad you chose to stay with me.” I said, and I gave her a new hug. I pulled her close to me for at least half a minute before I let her free again. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed.” I said, and this time Emma didn’t object. “But there is something we have to address first.” I reached for the bottom side of the dress and started pulling it up. Emma was shocked as she realized she would be completely undressed. I didn’t hesitate and pulled the dress up until it was above her shoulders. Her arms and head were still trapped in the dress, but from there on down she was completely naked. We weren’t in the middle of the garden anymore, but set apart from the party a bit, but that didn’t mean that everybody was looking at us and was now witness to the naked young lady. I heard Emma protest and moan, but her head slipped out of the dress and eventually also her arms. Emma looked up at me in shock. It was yet another shock after the whole ordure with her stepmother. But with the dress on the ground, next to the ripped up diaper, she was now naked, vulnerable, ashamed, and completely under my thumb. She tried to cover her breasts and her privates with her hands while looking up at me with her face covered in shameful red. I grabbed her by her arm, pulled her a bit forward, and smacked her bottom with my open hand. I did it again, and again. She gave a high pitched scream, but mostly due to the shock. I didn’t think I really hurt her like before, especially because I gave her just three swats. I let her stand up again and put my hand under her chin. I pushed her head backwards so she looked up at me. “I didn’t forget what happened just before your stepmother arrived on the scene.” I said. “If you ever disobey me like that again, and walk away from me. I will not only have to spank your sorry ass until its red and you can’t sit up for a week.” I said out loudly, so not only Emma, but everybody could here. “But I will also keep you in a child’s safety harness with a leash for as long as I deem appropriate, and you will be safely locked in a toddler’s stroller every time we go out.” I saw her face turn even redder as she realized that I would unforgivingly put her on display like that. She bowed her head and apologized softly. “I’m… I am sorry. I… I will obey.” I left her standing like that for a few seconds. I wanted for her to feel a bit lost, and lonely. She was completely naked and all of our colleagues were watching. And all of those colleagues she would be facing again, next week. But by then she wouldn’t be naked anymore, then she would be diapered. “OK, little girl. I’m not mad anymore. This is probably not your last mistake, but you will learn how to behave. Spankings are part of the process, if you like it or not. Do you understand that?” She nodded again. With her head down and her hands covering as much of her private parts as possible, she looked so vulnerable. It couldn’t be easy to give up your old life, and give complete control to someone else. And it all happened in this very short time. She came her as a young woman, not knowing about the plans I had for her. She couldn’t have known about the spanking, the diapers and the crib. There was no way that she knew that without hours after her arrival here she would be diapered and spoon-fed like a toddler. I opened my arms for her. “Come, little girl.” I said softly. I deliberately didn’t walk up to here to give her a comforting hug, I let her come to me. She didn’t hesitate and stepped into my arms. She pushed her naked body against mine, laid her head against my chest, and wrapped her arms around my waist. We stood in silence for almost a minute. She felt cold, not surprisingly, and she warmed herself against me. I decided that it was long enough, that it was time for a diaper, and that is was time for bed. I took her by her hand and led her upstairs. Emma knew where we were heading, and she didn’t resist or linger on the way up. I helped her up the changing table, and although she didn’t look me in the eyes, she seemed not to be too anxious about what was to happen. I cleaned her up with wet-wipes and picked the thickest diaper from the stack. She pulled in her knees without the need for me to ask for it. She let me put the diaper under her, powder her privates, and close the diaper tightly. I then helper her in a body, closing the three snaps between her legs. She was now ready for bed, where her sleeper was waiting. She turned her head and looked at me. I saw tears in her eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl?” I asked while I stroked her hair. My other hand was resting on her belly. “Are you maybe a little bit afraid?” Off course she was afraid. She chose to drastically change her life, and put her fate in my hands. I could totally understand her fear. Her future would be totally different than she had planned, and from what she had expected until a few hours ago. “You should be afraid.” I said. “You should be very afraid.” She looked confused, but her face changed as soon as I started to tickle her. “I will tickle you to death!” She screamed in surprise while my fingers protruded her body. Her hands were no longer behind her head, but were desperately trying to stop my hands. But she couldn’t stop it. My hands were too fast and merciless. It didn’t take long before she couldn’t stop laughing and the tears in her cheeks were replaced with tears of joy. I stopped when she was gasping for air and the few seconds of wild uncontrolled body reflexes left her face sweaty. I still smiled, but now her bad thoughts for slowly coming back again. I opened the drawer and selected a big dummy from the selection I had bought for her earlier. I held the dummy for her mouth and for a moment I thought she was going to refuse it. But she opened her mouth and accepted the dummy. I saw a hint of a surprise on her face when she closed her mouth around the dummy and she seemed to realize that it fitted comfortably. And that it was even a nice feeling to suck on the dummy. I smiled and kissed her on her forehead. “You are a silly little girl.” I said. “You shouldn’t worry about a thing. I will take care of you.” With that I pushed my arms under her and carried her to her crib. I had her in her sleeper within seconds. I didn’t need to lock the sleeper this time as I knew she wouldn’t try to escape. I pointed at the camera above her feet, pointing to her face. “I will be looking after you.” I said, and tried to sell it as something comforting, and not as threat. I kissed her again on the forehead, and Emma took her pacifier out for a moment and kissed me on my cheek. She immediately pushed the pacifier back in her mouth. “Are you comfortable?” I asked, and she nodded. “Will you give me a nice wet diaper to change before I go to bed tonight?” She nodded again, with a slight blush. I laughed out loud when I saw her blush. “You don’t need to be ashamed of a wet diaper, little girl.” I said while I pulled the side of her crib up. “You are in diapers full-time now, little girl.” Little Emma was now safely surrounded by bars.” The front side of the bed locked in place with a loud click. Emma looked at me through the wooden bars. She already knew she would be in diapers, but only now she seemed to really realize what that meant. “No more potty for this little girl. I will need to change your wet and poopy diapers from now on.” I laughed again, turned around and left her behind. I closed the curtains, left the nursery, and closed the door. Emma was my little girl now!

Blue Blood, Silk Ties - Chapter 1: The Gala of Fates Author note: I'm redoing this story. I didn't really like the first version, but I'm focused on this one. It's going to be a long novel. Please give me feedback on this version. A story about a universe where the Amazons have taken over and are dominating their littles. This story will be about people, royalty, the bourgeoisie, and many others. Chapter 1: "The Gala of Fates" The Kingdom of Eiradia sprawled across the horizon like an unbroken tapestry of power and secrets, its towering spires piercing clouds heavy with both rain and intrigue. The castle at its heart was a fortress of opulence and mystery, surrounded by sprawling fields where peasants toiled under the watchful eyes of Amazon guards. It was said that no one truly understood the workings of the royal court—not even those who served within it—but everyone knew one truth: life in Eiradia revolved around the whims of its rulers. And tonight, amidst glittering chandeliers and gilded halls, fate would be decided for many. --- Mira stood before the cracked mirror in her small, dimly lit room, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her dress. It was too short, too frilly, too... childish. She hated it. Her mother had stitched it herself years ago when Mira was much younger, but now it only served as a reminder of how little their family had—and how little they expected from her. The fabric was faded pink cotton, adorned with tiny embroidered flowers that had begun to unravel at the edges. A lace collar framed her neck awkwardly, making her feel more like a doll than a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. Her reflection stared back at her, wide-eyed and uncertain. Sixteen-year-old Mira wasn’t beautiful like Isabella; she was plain, with mousy brown hair tied into a loose braid and freckles scattered across her nose. Her hands were calloused from years of helping her mother in the fields, and her posture slouched slightly, as if she were trying to make herself smaller, less noticeable. But what Mira lacked in beauty or grace, she made up for in wit and determination. She often dreamed of escaping this life—of running far away from the poverty, the shame, the constant comparisons to her sister. Yet tonight, she felt trapped, forced to play a role she didn’t want: the overlooked daughter, the one nobody cared about. Across the hall, Isabella’s laughter floated through the thin wooden walls. Mira clenched her fists, swallowing the lump in her throat. Of course Isabella sounded happy. Everything came easily to her older sister—the charm, the confidence, the attention. Even Mother loved her best. “Mira!” Esther’s voice cut sharply through the house. “Are you ready yet? We don’t have all night!” “I’m coming,” Mira muttered under her breath, smoothing down her skirt one last time before stepping out into the main room. Esther stood near the hearth, adjusting Isabella’s gown with practiced care. The dress was exquisite—a deep emerald silk borrowed from a neighbor in exchange for two months’ worth of grain. It shimmered in the firelight, accentuating Isabella’s golden curls and delicate features. At sixteen, Isabella looked every bit the princess she hoped to become someday. Her smile was radiant, her movements graceful, her laughter musical. Everyone adored her, including their mother. Esther glanced up briefly as Mira entered the room, her lips pursing in disapproval. “That dress is ridiculous,” she snapped. “You look like a child.” Mira flinched but said nothing. What could she say? It was true. And worse still, Esther seemed almost pleased by it. In Eiradia, looking “childish” wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—it might even work in Mira’s favor tonight. But knowing that only made her stomach churn with humiliation. “You should have worn something nicer,” Esther continued, turning back to Isabella without another glance at Mira. “This is your chance to catch the eye of someone important. Do you understand? If either of you marries well, we’ll finally be able to leave this hovel behind.” Mira swallowed hard, staring at the floor. Leave this hovel behind. That was all Esther ever talked about these days. Ever since their father disappeared years ago—vanished without a trace, leaving them destitute—Esther had pinned all her hopes on finding wealthy husbands for her daughters. Or failing that, selling them to the Amazons for a hefty allowance. The thought sent a shiver down Mira’s spine. She’d heard whispers about the royal court, about the Amazon royalty and their peculiar obsession with raising “Littles.” Babies, toddlers, children—all regressed into helpless dependents, pampered and paraded like prized pets. Some families willingly gave up their children for the privilege, desperate for the money and status it brought. Others resisted until hunger and desperation left them no choice. Tonight’s gala was different. It wasn’t just about marriage anymore; it was about selection. The princess herself—Princess Ruby—was finally old enough to choose her first Little. Rumors swirled about what that entailed: public ceremonies, elaborate displays, endless pampering... and humiliation. To be chosen meant becoming a spectacle, a symbol of the kingdom’s strange customs. But it also meant security—for the chosen one, and for their family. Isabella seemed unfazed by the idea. She twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the way her gown caught the light. “Don’t worry, Mama,” she said sweetly. “I’ll make sure we’re taken care of. You know I always get what I want.” Esther smiled proudly, patting Isabella’s shoulder. “That’s my girl.” Mira clenched her jaw, fighting back tears. She wanted to scream, to demand why no one ever believed in her. But she knew better. Speaking out would only earn her another scolding—or worse, indifference. So instead, she kept quiet, letting her resentment simmer beneath the surface. As they prepared to leave, Esther handed Isabella a pair of delicate gloves and a matching fan, then turned to Mira with a sigh. “Here,” she said, thrusting a ribbon into Mira’s hands. “At least tie your hair properly. Try not to embarrass us.” Mira nodded mutely, tying the ribbon around her braid with trembling fingers. Outside, the air was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of earth and smoke. The walk to the castle felt endless, each step heavier than the last. Mira trailed behind her mother and sister, clutching the folds of her childish dress as if it could shield her from the stares she knew were coming. When they reached the gates, the sight took her breath away. The castle loomed above them, its walls lined with torches that cast flickering shadows across the stone. Nobles and peasants alike streamed inside, their laughter and chatter filling the night air. Somewhere beyond those doors lay the gala—and Princess Ruby, waiting to choose her first Little. Mira swallowed nervously, her heart pounding in her chest. Whatever happened tonight, one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same again.

Author's Note Hi! I'm Nicky, and I'm thrilled to join the Daily Diapers Community. Writing has been a passion of mine for many years, and over time, I've created numerous drafts and story ideas on ABDL that I've kept to myself—until now. I finally gathered the courage to share something, and I truly hope you enjoy it. I'm looking forward to connecting with fellow ABDL here. 😊 ____________________________________________________________________________ The Web of Lies is a psychological thriller about trust, manipulation, and the slow unraveling of a seemingly perfect life. Alan, a confident and successful man in his 40s, begins to notice strange things happening—small accidents, unexpected loss of control, and concerns raised by his wife, Lisa, about his health. At first, they seem like minor worries, but they slowly grow into a pattern that makes Alan question himself and his ability to stay dry. The story explores how care can become control and how easy it is to doubt your own reality when someone you love plants those doubts. This is a story about the power of suggestion and how even the strongest minds can be tested when trust is twisted. It’s a gripping tale that will keep readers guessing at every turn. Enjoy! 🙃 P.S Comments are much appreciated! ____________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 1: The Waiting Room Alan sat on a stiff leather chair in the pristine waiting room of Dr. Hargrove’s office. The walls were painted a muted, calming gray, adorned with abstract art that didn’t quite command attention. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the silence, occasionally interrupted by the muted voices of the receptionist on the phone or the shuffle of a patient’s feet down the hallway. Across the room, a small fountain gurgled softly, its soothing sound doing little to ease Alan’s tension. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, each second dragging on longer than the last. Alan glanced at his watch, its familiar face offering no comfort, and then at the closed door leading to the doctor’s office. His knee bounced anxiously, a nervous rhythm that betrayed the calm façade he tried to maintain. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he thought. This wasn’t his life. His world revolved around work deadlines, weekend barbecues, and the occasional round of golf. He was the guy everyone called when they needed a laugh or a drinking buddy, not the one sitting outside a doctor’s office, waiting to hear about someone else’s medical troubles. Yet here he was, summoned by Lisa’s concerned tone and Alan’s unspoken distress. Alan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as his gaze wandered over the room. He noticed the small details now, the way his mind always did when he was trying to distract himself: the slight scuff on the baseboard near the door, the stack of outdated magazines on the low glass coffee table, the faint smell of antiseptic that lingered beneath the air conditioning. He let his eyes close for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. How did it come to this? Alan, his best friend, had always been the confident one—the guy who seemed to have everything together. Yet over the past two months, something had shifted. Alan couldn’t pinpoint when it started, but looking back, the signs were there. One memory led to another, each connected like a breadcrumb trail. And it all started two months ago, on that seemingly perfect morning. *Flashback* The day had started peacefully. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of their modern kitchen, illuminating the marble countertops and the gleaming stainless-steel appliances. Alan sat at the breakfast table, his coffee steaming beside him as he scrolled through his phone. His focus was split between work emails and the calendar notification reminding him of his packed schedule. It was the kind of morning that felt routine, unremarkable—until Lisa called his name. “Alan,” her voice came from the laundry room, gentle but carrying an edge of something he couldn’t quite place. He barely looked up. “Yeah?” “Can you come here for a second?” she asked, her tone shifting slightly—soft, yet insistent. Alan sighed, setting his phone down as he stood. He walked to the laundry room, where Lisa stood by the counter, her blonde hair neatly tied back, the faint scent of her citrus shampoo filling the air. She was holding something in her hand, her fingers pinching the edges delicately, like it might fall apart. “These were in the laundry,” she said, lifting a pair of his white briefs for him to see. Alan froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing. “What about them?” Lisa hesitated, her expression a careful mix of concern and discomfort. She tilted the briefs toward him. “There’s… a stain.” Alan moved closer, his heart skipping a beat as he saw what she was pointing to. A faint yellowish blotch marred the otherwise pristine fabric, spreading in the center like an unwelcome accusation. His face flushed. “That can’t be mine.” Lisa tilted her head slightly, her soft blue eyes locking onto his. “Alan, it was in your side of the hamper.” “Well, I didn’t do that,” he snapped, snatching the briefs from her hand and holding them up as though examining them closer might make the stain disappear. “It’s probably detergent or something. Maybe it didn’t rinse properly.” Lisa’s expression didn’t change. If anything, her concern seemed to deepen. “Maybe,” she said slowly, her tone calm and measured. “But it doesn’t look like detergent to me.” Alan tossed the briefs onto the counter, feeling his frustration mount. “I would know if something like that happened, Lisa. This is ridiculous.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch light but steady. “Alan, I know this is uncomfortable to talk about, but things like this happen sometimes. Especially if you’ve been under stress.” “I’m not under stress,” he said sharply, pulling his arm away. “I don’t have—whatever it is you’re implying.” Lisa blinked, stepping back slightly as though his reaction had startled her. “I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying, if something’s going on, it’s better to catch it early. That’s all.” Alan stared at her, his mind racing. Was she serious? Did she actually think…? He shook his head, grabbing the briefs again and tossing them into the laundry basket. “There’s nothing going on. It’s just a stain, okay? End of story.” Lisa nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice almost apologetic. “I just don’t want you to feel embarrassed if it happens again.” “It’s not going to happen again because it didn’t happen in the first place,” Alan muttered, storming out of the laundry room and back to the kitchen. As he sat down at the table, Alan’s thoughts churned. He picked up his coffee but didn’t drink it, staring instead at the swirling steam. Lisa’s voice echoed in his mind. Stress. Things like this happen sometimes. It didn’t make sense. He was healthy, active. Sure, work was demanding, but it wasn’t like he was losing sleep over it. Wasn’t he? He shook his head, trying to push the thought away. Lisa was probably just overreacting. She worked in healthcare, after all. Nurses were trained to see problems even where there weren’t any, always looking for signs of trouble. That’s all this was, he told himself—Lisa being overly cautious. Nothing more. Lisa watched him from the doorway, her arms folded loosely across her chest. Her face betrayed no emotion, but inside, she was already thinking ahead. The first step was always the most delicate, but it had gone exactly as she’d hoped. A little stain, a little concern, just enough to make him doubt himself. She could tell by the way he stormed out that she’d struck a nerve. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she turned back to the laundry, picking up the briefs again and tossing them into the wash. It wasn’t about the stain itself—it never was. It was about planting the seed, a tiny whisper in his mind that something might be wrong. All she had to do now was water it. *End of Flashback* Alan leaned forward in his seat in the waiting room, staring at the floor tiles as memories rolled through his mind like a film on loop. His knee bounced restlessly, a steady rhythm that betrayed the calm he tried to project. His hand drifted to the edge of the chair, gripping it tightly as he recalled the golf course incident—an otherwise normal day that had spiraled into something else entirely. *Flashback* The sun was warm on his back, the breeze cool and refreshing as it rustled through the trees lining the course. Alan had always loved golfing with Poll. It was one of the few places where he could unwind, leave behind the endless emails and meetings that occupied his weekdays, and simply exist. That day had been no different—or at least, it hadn’t started out that way. “Two strokes ahead already?” Poll said, shaking his head as he set down his club. “You’re showing off, man. Stop making me look bad.” Alan laughed, adjusting his cap as they walked to the next hole. “Maybe you need to practice more instead of blaming me.” Poll groaned theatrically, grabbing his iced tea from the cart and taking a long sip. “Practice? That’s for people who don’t have natural talent.” Alan smirked, lining up his shot. He took a deep breath, grounding himself in the rhythm of the game, and swung. The satisfying crack of the ball echoed, and Poll let out an exaggerated whistle as it soared across the course, landing near the green. “Show-off,” Poll muttered, grinning. “You’re lucky I’m such a good sport.” “Just admit I’m better,” Alan shot back, leaning on his club. The banter continued as they finished the first nine holes and parked the cart near the clubhouse for a quick break. They found a small outdoor table with a view of the course, and Alan stretched his legs, letting the breeze cool him down. Poll was in high spirits, gesturing wildly as he recounted a story about a disastrous flight he’d been on. “So, I’m sitting there,” Poll said, waving his iced tea for emphasis, “and the guy next to me starts sneezing. I’m thinking, great, I’m catching something. Then—” Poll’s hand clipped the edge of his glass, and the tea tipped forward in slow motion, splashing across the table and onto Alan’s lap. “Damn it!” Poll exclaimed, grabbing napkins. “Sorry, man. My bad.” Alan stood quickly, brushing at the cold, wet fabric. “It’s fine,” he said, chuckling lightly. “It’s just tea. No harm done.” “Still, let me—” Poll started, but Alan waved him off. Alan wiped at his pants, trying to make light of it. He wasn’t thrilled to be walking around with damp pants, but it wasn’t the end of the world. These things happened. Poll was about to let it go when he spotted Lisa walking toward them. She was carrying her tote bag, dressed in a breezy summer dress that looked effortless but undoubtedly wasn’t. She flashed them both a smile as she approached. “Hey, you two,” she said brightly. “Who’s winning?” “Don’t ask,” Poll muttered, grinning. “He’s wiping the floor with me.” Lisa laughed, her eyes shifting to Alan. She hesitated for just a fraction of a second, her smile fading slightly. “Alan, what happened?” “Poll got excited and spilled his tea,” Alan said, his tone light. “No big deal.” Lisa’s gaze dropped to his lap, lingering there a moment too long. “Are you sure it’s just tea?” she asked, her voice soft, concerned. Alan’s smile faltered. “Of course it’s tea,” he said, his tone sharpening. “What else would it be?” Lisa stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I’m just asking. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed if it’s… something else.” “It’s tea, Lisa,” Alan snapped, louder this time. “That’s it.” Poll shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the tension rise like a storm cloud. He decided to step in. “Hey, she’s just looking out for you, man. No need to bite her head off.” Alan shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “I don’t need anyone looking out for me.” Lisa held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay,” she said softly. “I just wanted to check. That’s all.” Alan muttered something under his breath and walked toward the restroom, his chest tight with frustration. He didn’t even need to use the bathroom, but he needed to get away from the table, from Lisa’s quiet scrutiny and Poll’s awkward silence. Inside the cool, tiled bathroom, Alan leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, his jaw clenched. The tea spill had been a harmless accident, but Lisa’s words clung to him like a second skin. “Are you sure it’s just tea?” she’d asked. What kind of question was that? Did she actually think he’d…? Alan shook his head, gripping the edge of the sink. He was healthy. He’d never had an issue like that in his life. The very idea was ridiculous. But the longer he stared at his reflection, the more the doubt crept in. Lisa wasn’t the type to overreact, he told himself. She was a nurse, trained to notice problems before they became serious. Maybe she saw something he didn’t. Maybe— Alan shook his head again, harder this time. No. There was nothing wrong. It was tea. That was it. He wasn’t going to let Lisa’s overactive imagination make him question himself. He straightened, splashed cold water on his face, and forced himself to take a deep breath. When he returned to the table, he plastered on a smile, ignoring the way Lisa’s eyes lingered on him as he sat down. The rest of the game passed in strained silence, the easy camaraderie of earlier completely gone. Alan tried to focus on his swing, on the feel of the club in his hands, but his mind kept drifting back to Lisa’s question and the nagging doubt it had left behind. *End of Flashback* His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen: no new messages. Just a phantom vibration, or maybe his own anxiety playing tricks on him. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, his jaw tightening. His mind drifted back to the golf course. He couldn’t seem to let it go. The moment had been so innocuous, so ordinary—Poll knocking over a glass, tea spilling onto his pants. A harmless accident. Yet somehow, Lisa had managed to turn it into something else entirely. Are you sure it’s just tea? The words played on a loop in his head, each repetition chipping away at his confidence. What had she meant by that? Did she really think he’d wet himself? The absurdity of it was almost laughable, but it didn’t feel funny. It felt invasive, like she’d reached into his mind and planted a thought he didn’t want to acknowledge. And then there was the way she’d looked at him—like she was trying to see past his words, to something hidden beneath the surface. It wasn’t concern; it was something sharper, more probing. Alan shifted in his seat, the stiff leather squeaking beneath him. He hated how much power that single moment seemed to hold over him now. The way Lisa had asked the question—softly, almost innocently—made him feel like denying it was a defense in itself. Like by saying, It’s just tea, he was confirming her suspicion. Why didn’t I just let it go? he thought. Maybe if he’d laughed it off instead of snapping at her, the moment wouldn’t be stuck in his head like this. Maybe she wouldn’t have looked at him like she knew something he didn’t. But that wasn’t it, was it? The moment wasn’t stuck because of how he’d reacted—it was stuck because of how she’d framed it. She’d made him question something he hadn’t even considered. She’d made him doubt himself. His jaw tightened as the memory burned in his mind. Was that her goal? Was she trying to get under his skin? Or worse… what if she was right? Yes, of course, she’s right. Why else would he be sitting here in the doctor’s office if there wasn’t something to it? Alan’s mind shifted to another moment, weeks after the golf course incident. The dinner party. He’d almost forgotten about it—pushed it out of his mind, really—but now, sitting in the waiting room, it came rushing back with startling clarity. *Flashback* It had been a posh evening, the kind Lisa loved to orchestrate. Their friends filled the house with laughter and conversation, wine glasses clinking, the warm aroma of roasted vegetables and garlic wafting from the kitchen. Alan had been in his element, chatting with Poll and a couple of others, feeling the buzz of good food and good company. “Alan,” Lisa had called from the kitchen, her voice light and cheerful. “Can you grab the wine from the fridge?” “On it,” he’d replied, heading into the kitchen with an easy stride. He liked helping out during these gatherings; it made him feel like he was part of the team, not just the host. He opened the fridge, his fingers wrapping around the chilled bottle. As he turned, his elbow caught the edge of a glass on the counter. The water spilled before he could catch it, splashing onto the front of his shirt and pants. “Damn it,” he muttered, grabbing a towel from the counter to dab at the wet spot. It wasn’t a big deal—the water would dry—but he still felt a pang of annoyance. He hated looking anything less than put-together, especially in front of their friends. Before he could finish drying off, Lisa appeared in the doorway, her brow furrowing as her gaze dropped to his pants. “What happened?” she asked, her tone concerned but with a trace of something else he couldn’t quite place. “Nothing,” Alan said, brushing it off. “I knocked over a glass. Just water.” Lisa stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the darkened patch of fabric. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant. Alan froze, the towel hovering over his shirt. “What do you mean, am I sure?” he asked, his irritation bubbling to the surface. “It’s water, Lisa. What else would it be?” “I just…” She hesitated, her eyes meeting his with a mix of pity and caution. “I just wanted to make sure. I don’t want you to feel ...” Alan snapped, his voice rising. “It’s water. That’s it.” Lisa’s expression softened, her lips curving into a small, apologetic smile. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” “You didn’t upset me,” he muttered, turning back toward the living room. “I’m fine.” Lisa didn’t say anything as he walked away, but Alan could feel her gaze on his back, lingering like an unwanted touch. Alan’s jaw clenched as he walked back into the living room, his damp pants still clinging uncomfortably to his legs. He could feel the weight of his friends’ eyes on him as he approached the dining area. Conversations had continued, laughter still punctuating the air, but he was certain it had been quieter when he entered. Too quiet. Like they had been talking about him. “Everything okay, Alan?” Poll asked, his tone casual, but Alan swore there was something behind the words—a touch of concern or curiosity that made his skin prickle. “Fine,” Alan said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. “Just knocked over a glass.” He sat down in his chair, forcing a smile, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that their laughter and whispers weren’t as carefree as they’d been before. His gaze darted to the group across the table, who were leaning toward one another, their voices hushed. Were they glancing at him? No, they couldn’t be—but it felt like they were. Lisa appeared behind him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “Alan,” she said softly, her voice pitched low so only he could hear, “why don’t you go upstairs and change? You’ll feel more comfortable.” “I’m fine,” he muttered, his jaw tight. “Alan,” she insisted, her fingers squeezing his shoulder gently. “You’ll feel better if you’re not sitting in wet pants. And… I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” His head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. “The wrong idea? It’s water, Lisa. Everyone knows that.” “Of course they do,” she said quickly, her tone soothing, almost placating. “But you know how people can be. It’s better to avoid any… misunderstandings.” Alan felt a flash of heat rise to his cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from anger. Why was she making such a big deal out of this? Why was she making him feel like it was a big deal? Still, he couldn’t argue without drawing more attention. “Fine,” he said curtly, standing abruptly. He ignored the glance Poll shot him and made his way upstairs, his shoulders stiff with tension. *End of Flashback* He’d tried to forget about it after that, but the moment had stuck with him, festering in the back of his mind. Why had she asked if he was sure? Did she think he couldn’t tell the difference between water and something else? Or was it another one of those “concerns” she couldn’t seem to stop voicing lately? The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt. It wasn’t just the question—it was the way she’d asked it, like she was planting a seed of doubt and waiting to see if it would grow. And the worst part? It had grown. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even now, weeks later. It gnawed at him, made him feel like he was being scrutinized in ways he didn’t fully understand. He hated how much control those moments seemed to have over him now. The golf course, the dinner party, even the damn laundry stain—it all felt connected somehow, like pieces of a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. Am I overthinking this? he wondered. Or is she really doing this on purpose? The clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm blending with the hum of the air conditioning. Alan’s jaw clenched as the memories looped in his mind, each one heavier than the last. Why can’t I just let it go? But deep down, he knew why. It wasn’t just the moments themselves—it was the way they made him feel. Like he was losing control. Like the ground beneath his feet wasn’t as solid as it used to be. And that was what scared him the most. ____________________________________________________ To be continued ____________________________________________________

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

Author notes: For some, this story will be easily recognized and it is my reboot of another story of mine. I am doing this because I have improved my writing and those have a lot of holes. It was written badly. It was one of my first stories, so many stories will go through this. Messages: Please read, criticize, speak. My English is not my native language, but I am learning. Do you have any tips on how to improve? There are three chapters for now. The rest will be here soon. Intro: A complex story of crime and investigation. A very popular girl is kidnapped to be a baby. Chapter 1: The Abduction It was a quiet evening in southern Maine, and the fresh air of the park seemed to invite people to enjoy the day. Amelia, a petite girl with blond hair and a radiant smile, was jogging through the park as part of her exercise routine. She wore a blue T-shirt with the word "CAL" in bold letters—a reference to the California Golden Bears—and gray leggings that clung to her athletic body. During a brief pause, she took her phone out of her pocket and took a selfie with the trees in the background at dusk. When she posted the photo on social media, she used the hashtag #FreeLife. It was as common a gesture for Amelia as breathing. With over a hundred thousand followers, her popularity was undeniable. After posting the photo, she picked up her water bottle and took a few sips, feeling the hydration revitalize her tired muscles. Not far away, a woman with brown hair and an attentive gaze was sitting on a bench, discreetly observing Amélia. When the young woman finished drinking and began to stretch, the woman stood up and walked towards her. As soon as the woman approached, she pretended to trip and deliberately bumped into Amélia, causing the girl to drop the water bottle on herself. "Sorry! Geez, it seems like I spilled water on you," the woman said, her voice full of forced friendliness. Amélia tried to divert the situation with a polite smile. "Don't worry, it's nothing serious." But the woman insisted, a strange glint in her eyes. "Oh, no! Let's go to the bathroom. You need to clean up." Before Amelia could refuse, the woman grabbed her hand firmly. The unexpected strength surprised Amelia, who, even though uncomfortable, reluctantly followed. As they walked, she began to notice something strange. The bathroom was in the opposite direction from where they were going. "Ma'am, I think we're going the wrong way," Amelia said, her voice full of hesitation. The woman didn't respond. The park was almost empty, and the pressure of the woman's hand increased. Before Amelia could react, the woman took a cloth from her pocket and pressed it against the young woman's mouth and nose. A strong chemical smell invaded her nostrils. Amelia tried to struggle, but her vision began to blur and her muscles lost strength. The last words she heard before she passed out were whispered in the woman's sweet, sinister tones. "Sleep well, baby. You'll be home soon..." When Amelia's consciousness faded, the woman arranged the young girl's limp body in her arms as if she were a child. She passed a few people in the park, but her calm and confident appearance made no one suspect anything. To others, she just looked like a mother carrying her sleeping daughter. The woman walked over to a black SUV parked near the park entrance. When she opened the back door, she revealed a child's car seat, something common for those with small children. Without rushing, she positioned Amelia in the seat, fastened the seatbelt and, in a gesture that bordered on the absurd, put a pacifier in the unconscious girl's mouth. With everything ready, she got in the car and drove off, leaving the peaceful park behind and plunging into the darkness of the road. More than a thousand miles away, in Washington, D.C., a young man lay in bed, enjoying a rare moment of rest. His cell phone rang, and he answered it promptly. "Special Agent Paul speaking," he said in a professional voice. On the other end of the line, an authoritative female voice answered. "We have a kidnapping in Maine." Paul sat up quickly, feeling adrenaline rush through his veins. He recognized his boss's voice immediately. A kidnapping? In Maine? His rest was over. The mission was just beginning. Chapter 2: Agent Paul Levesque Paul Levesque was awake early that morning. The smell of golden pancakes, fried eggs, and crispy bacon mingled with the strong aroma of coffee he was brewing in his French press. Wearing a University of Miami T-shirt, Paul had an air of confidence and command that was almost tangible. As he piled the pancakes onto his plate, he cradled the phone against his shoulder and spoke. "Do I really need to be a team player?" He sighed as he paced the kitchen, balancing his coffee cup in one hand. On the other end of the line, a firm but friendly voice answered. "Yes, you do. They want you closer to the area. Not just for the results, but to help the newbies. And in addition to the coffee, get some aspirin. I guess you had a long night." Paul paused for a moment, his mind briefly returning to a flashback of the previous night: a poker table, scattered chips, and laughter. He remembered his opponents' thinly veiled attempts at cheating and the smile he'd given them when he'd turned over the winning cards. "These guys had their cards marked," he said with a sarcastic smile. "They tried to fool me, but I took a lot of money from them." He took a sip of coffee and concluded, "But I'm on my way now." The NCIS office was a mix of modern efficiency and tradition. State-of-the-art computers lined neat desks, while whiteboards covered in notes and photos illustrated ongoing cases. A glass bulletin board displayed a world map with pins marking relevant locations. Three agents were already at their posts. Lewis Bishop, an elegant man with impeccably combed hair, looked at his watch and muttered: "Will Casper show up today?" Cassie Evans, a young woman with straight red hair tied in a tight bun, looked up from her computer and answered without taking her eyes off the screen. "The way they called us yesterday, it's very likely he'll show up." Lewis smiled sarcastically. "Okay, Oracle Cassie, what else can you tell us?" Cassie, unfazed, answered, "Same as you, Lewis." Before Lewis could reply, Tony Shepar, a young African-American with a serious expression, intervened. "If Casper doesn't show up, the sharks up there will swallow him." Lewis chuckled, "Tonny, tell me the whole story." Before Tonny could speak, the elevator doors opened and Paul Levesque walked into the office. His presence was immediately noticeable. He set his things down on his desk and, without wasting any time, asked, "Have we had any ransom demands, Cassie?" Cassie raised her eyebrows. "No. No sign of any." Lewis leaned forward, smiling curiously. "First, how do you know our names? And second, what ransom demands?" Paul took a sip of coffee and looked calmly at the three agents. His sharp mind had already noted the details on the plaques on their desks. He answered matter-of-factly, "First: MI6 agent and cybercrime expert, Cassie Evans." He paused and turned to Tonny. "Special Agent Tonny Shepar, former SEAL and Sniper." Finally, he looked at Lewis. "Senior Agent Lewis Bishop, former New York City police officer and one of the best interrogators in NCIS." The three of them were silent for a moment, impressed by Paul's accuracy. He continued, "And the second question: who would kidnap a young girl in Maine?" As he walked up the stairs toward the conference room, Paul was already mentally mapping out his plan for handling the case. The mystery was just beginning.. At the agency, Paul stands in front of Monica's office, where a sign on the door reads "Boss." He enters the office, noticing Monica, a tall, black woman with braided hair and an infectious smile. Paul says: "What an interesting team, but I only work alone, so I won't work." Monica responds with a teasing smile: "Do you still want me to call you immature?" She laughs, but her tone quickly turns serious. "This case is important, and you're going to work as a team." Paul replies, "You know what happened last time." The two stare at each other, and the silence is heavy, filled with memories. Monica says firmly, "You know what? That wasn't your fault, and everyone knows it." Paul has a flashback. Sounds of gunshots and an explosion echo in his mind, but he changes the subject, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Who is this girl?" Paul asks, gesturing to the folder on the table. Monica opens the folder and shows a photo of Benson. "Benson is a famous influencer, a spokesperson for several brands, and the daughter of an important politician. She also has several connections with the attorney general." Paul looks at the file carefully. Benson's father is a member of the chamber, and she is the granddaughter of a famous general. He asks, "Did we get a ransom demand?" Monica shakes her head. Paul thinks to himself: It doesn't look like a kidnapping for money, but for something else. He reads from the file that Benson's last post was in the park. We have a beginning, he concludes mentally. Paul leaves the room and goes downstairs, lost in thought. It looks like I'm going to work as a team. Ever since that time... I can't think about that now. I need to focus on the girl. Arriving at the place where the other agents were gathered, Paul declares: "Guys, let's go. I'm going to work with you." Everyone looks at each other, surprised. The idea of Paul working as a team seemed unlikely, but there he was. "What did you find on the girl's social media?" he asks. Cassie answers: "Not much. Meteoric success. A little money here, another there, and boom, she's a hit. Success. You can see it in the first ten posts: everything is self-promoted. Plus, her schedule is practically all posted on social media." Paul reflects on how this makes life easier for the kidnappers, allowing them to know exactly what Benson's doing. Lewis adds: "The family is powerful. Her father is running for governor of Washington state. I've already called him to talk." Tonny adds, "I've warned the parents not to talk to the media yet. I'm holding the Amber Alert until we have more information." Paul agrees. If he's a psychopath, he'll want to see the media coverage. Holding back information might lead him to make a mistake, like stopping at a gas station or other visible location. Finally, Paul starts delegating tasks. "Tonny and Cassie, go to the kidnapping scene. Lewis and I will talk to the parents." Everyone starts moving with determination. For the first time, Paul feels like giving orders as a team isn't so bad. Chapter 3: Maniac At the small local gas station, a news program on a worn-out TV was showing a peculiar story. The newscaster was reporting, with a cynical tone, about people running naked through the streets after leaving a fruit stand, resulting in an unexpected increase in local revenue. A tall woman with neat brown hair and striking features watched for a moment as she waited at the register. In her hands was a bottle of fresh milk. At the register, a baby in a carrier caught the woman's attention. With a shallow smile, she played with the child, babbling sweet nothings that made the child laugh out loud. The baby's mother smiled kindly, but quickly turned her attention back to the line. The attendant announced the price: "One dollar." The woman handed over the bill, took the milk, and walked gracefully to her car. Inside the vehicle, a regular black SUV, Amelia remained in the child seat, still unconscious. The woman opened the back door and sat next to Amelia, holding the bottle of milk she had just bought. With practiced movements, she prepared a bottle, adding a few drops of sleeping pill before mixing the liquid. Holding the bottle, she murmured with a sadistic expression: "My baby can't wake up now. It would be so perfect if you had bedwetting, you'd come home already wet...". The woman held Amelia by the back of the neck, tilted her head gently and force-fed her the bottle. Amelia, still numb, swallowed the liquid without resistance. With the radio tuned to KIIS-FM 102.7, the woman continued on her way. Pop music filled the silence as the car glided along increasingly deserted roads. Approximately 1h30 later, she arrived at a secluded property in Maine. A welcoming-looking yellow house stood amidst dense trees, with a rug at the entrance that read "Mrs. Roberts' House." The woman got out of the car, picked up Amelia and carried her inside. The interior of the house, with its simple and cheerful decorations, contrasted with the surroundings. She climbed a narrow staircase and entered a room decorated like a nursery, but with a frightening aura. The walls were painted in pastel colors, with drawings of teddy bears and stars. The crib was made of light, polished wood, with high bars and soft padding. In the corner, there was a nursing chair, next to a small table with diapers, ointments and an electronic surveillance machine. Obsessively organized toys were arranged on shelves. Despite the childish environment, there was something oppressive and uncomfortable in the air. The woman laid Amelia in the crib and adjusted the bars so that she could not escape. As she did so, she spoke in an almost maternal tone, but with a glint of madness in her eyes: "Poor child, your parents want to take you away from me. Washington? How crazy! You are mine now. If you are a good baby, you will have a long life with me here. But if you disobey... it will be tragic." Amélia began to regain consciousness. Her vision was blurred, her mind confused. When she tried to move, she realized that she was surrounded by bars. She stood up unsteadily, touched the wooden material and realized that she was in a crib. . "It can't be...", she thought, trying to understand how she had ended up there. She looked around, observing the details of the room: the painted teddy bears seemed to be staring straight at her; the mobile hanging over the crib turned slowly, producing a sinister melody. Amélia tried to climb the bars, but she didn't have enough strength. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she fell back onto the mattress with a dull thud. The door slowly opened, revealing the figure of the woman, who wore a smile of satisfaction. "Look at the baby trying to escape," she said mockingly. Amélia stared at her, trying to sound firm: "I'm not a baby! Who are you?" The woman gave a wicked smile and replied, "Of course it's a baby. And you can call me Mommy Lindy." Amelia opened her mouth to protest, but Lindy was quicker, placing a pacifier in her mouth. "Shhh, babies don't talk to their mommy like that. Now, let's see how you're doing..." Lindy lifted Amelia easily, holding her with one hand as she tugged at the back of Amelia's sweatpants. "No poop..." she commented casually. Then she checked the front. "No pee either. Too bad! Don't you know holding it in is bad for your health? But we'll fix that." Lindy's voice was sweet, but her words were laden with sinister intent. With ease, she placed Amelia on the changing table next to the crib, holding her steady as she said, "First, let's feed you. A baby needs to be strong to play!" Amelia felt helpless, trying to understand the woman's insanity and frantically thinking about how to escape this nightmare. Meanwhile, Lindy seemed to savor every moment, controlling the situation with a frightening calm.

Hello and happy new year to all. I was playing a bit with ChatGPT and let it write a story for me. It is completely written by the AI, with just a not so long prompt. But it got kind of big. I thought some people might enjoy the story. It has minor AI related inconsistencies, but I think it's still a good read. So just have fun! Edit: I let it write a kind of similar story, but still kind of different plot. I really don't know if anyone even cares for that stories, but I wanted another, so if anyone wants to read it, it's here. Since I don't want to take away the audience from real writers with real talents, I just added the second story here and didn't create a new topic. Meredith's Control Chapter One: A Curious Arrangement Leon tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, standing on his tiptoes in front of the bathroom mirror, straining just to catch his reflection. His girlfriend, Meredith, was out in the living room, busily typing away at her laptop. She always had some major project at work: big team meetings, presentations for important clients, constant video conferences. Yet, she somehow always found time to keep a very close eye on him. He tried to flatten his hair, which always seemed to puff up on top of his head in a boyish swirl. At just around four feet seven inches tall, Leon had a slender, childlike build despite being eighteen years old. When Meredith—who stood at a majestic six foot one—first noticed him at a local coffee shop a few months ago, he was enamored by her confidence, her sultry laugh, and her commanding presence. Their relationship moved quickly. Too quickly for some. But for Leon, nothing could compare to the sense of protection and enthrallment he felt around her. In truth, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Meredith’s control over him stretched into the smallest corners of his day: from what he wore and how he styled his hair, to even how he used the bathroom. She managed every routine, every decision. While he sometimes complained, he also found himself secretly liking the structure. It made him feel cared for, oddly comforted. He felt guilty for resisting her, even when he found her rules embarrassing. Leon could hear the rattle of keys in the living room as Meredith shut her laptop. It was probably time to go through the day’s itinerary—a list she insisted on reviewing with him every morning. Leon sighed. He was still wearing pajamas because she had specifically told him not to get dressed by himself that day. Apparently, she had something “special” lined up for him. Slinking out of the bathroom, he walked into the living room, noticing how the top of his head barely reached the bottom of Meredith’s chest. She looked up at him, one eyebrow arched. “You’re late,” she stated in a clipped tone, tapping the face of her silver watch. “I was just—” he began, but her expression silenced him. “I already told you: no excuses. Today is a busy day for me, and I can’t have you making us run behind. Now come here.” She patted the seat of the couch next to her. Her voice carried such authority that he instantly felt a pang of guilt. He obeyed, sitting down. His tiny form sank into the cushion, emphasizing how small he was compared to her. Gently, she rested a large hand on his thigh, letting him know she wasn’t angry—just strict. Their eyes met, and there was a softness beneath her stern facade. “I have to go to the office for some time, but I’ll be back before dinner,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ll stay here. I’ve laid out clothes for you in the bedroom. You’re not to leave the apartment until I get back. Is that clear?” Leon nodded. “Yes, Meredith.” He could feel an odd mix of relief and apprehension. She was going out, but his instructions were so rigid. It felt a little lonely, spending hours in the apartment by himself with such restrictions—especially since he needed permission for almost everything. “Also…” She paused, studying his face. “Have you gone potty yet this morning?” Leon’s cheeks flushed. That question was always mortifying, though he had grown somewhat used to it. Meredith demanded to know about every trip to the bathroom. “Yes,” he mumbled, “right when I woke up.” “Good.” She turned back to her phone, tapping at some notifications. “Remember: no more breaks until lunchtime. If you have to go, wait for me to come home. I don’t want to find out you disobeyed me.” Her instructions were specific and strict. He’d been told only to use the bathroom at set times, always with her permission. Yesterday, he nearly had an accident holding it until she got back from a grocery run. As embarrassing as it felt to beg for the toilet, it was even more humiliating to lose control. But Meredith liked it that way—and, if he was honest, a small part of him thrilled at the notion of surrender. “All right,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper. Meredith patted his thigh one last time before she stood up, towering over him. She bent slightly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Be good. Don’t get into trouble.” Leon felt goosebumps on his arms. “I promise I’ll be good.” She flashed him a knowing grin, then picked up her handbag and left, locking the door behind her with a decisive click. Leon stared at the door for several moments. The apartment, though cozy, suddenly felt huge without her presence. His instructions were clear: get dressed in the clothes she chose, don’t leave the apartment, and most importantly—no bathroom breaks until lunch, when she planned to return. He exhaled. This was his life now. Part of him wanted to rebel, to say that enough was enough. But part of him loved her so much that he convinced himself he needed this, needed her. And so, with a subdued swirl of excitement and anxiety, Leon walked to the bedroom to see what she had laid out for him. Chapter Two: A Childish Wardrobe When Leon opened the bedroom door, his cheeks immediately reddened. Spread across the bed was an outfit he would have never chosen for himself: a pair of powder-blue shortalls, complete with little silver snaps running down the sides, and a plain white t-shirt to go underneath. Next to it lay ankle socks with tiny cartoon puppies stitched into the cuffs. At the foot of the bed sat bright white Velcro sneakers—another childlike touch. He inhaled a shaky breath. This was far from the most juvenile outfit Meredith had ever selected, but it still made him feel about ten years old rather than eighteen. Even if he wanted to choose something else, he knew he was not allowed. From the first week he moved in, Meredith had insisted on taking over all dressing responsibilities, often physically clothing him herself. This morning, however, she’d made an exception by laying out the outfit in advance—probably because she was in a hurry. Leon glanced at the time on his phone: 8:42 AM. He had a while before lunch, and already he could feel an uncomfortable tightness in his bladder. He’d used the bathroom upon waking up, but the morning coffee he’d had earlier was catching up to him. He swallowed hard. Meredith had said no more potty visits until she came back at noon. He tried to ignore the discomfort, telling himself she’d only be gone a few hours. With a resigned sigh, he plucked the T-shirt off the bed. He peeled off his pajama top, then slipped the T-shirt on. Finally, he lifted the shortalls and stepped into them, struggling to pull the straps over his shoulders until he heard the tiny snaps click. They fit snugly, cupping his narrow hips and accentuating how slender he was. The Velcro shoes went on last. He looked at himself in the standing mirror and cringed. The shortalls ended high on his thighs, making him look about as intimidating as a toddler. He could feel his heart pounding as he went back into the living room, half-expecting someone to be standing there laughing at him. But of course, the apartment was empty. He sank down on the sofa, turning on the TV. Maybe he could distract himself with some cartoons or a movie. He was too nervous to watch the news or a serious program. Subconsciously, he gravitated toward more childish things—something that matched how Meredith dressed him. He flicked through streaming channels until he found an old animated movie from his childhood. While it played, his mind kept drifting to the subtle pressure below his abdomen. It had been only a few weeks of abiding by her “no bathroom without permission” rule, but it was long enough that his body felt confused, uncertain when relief was actually allowed. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The anxiety made him want to push the feeling away, yet focusing on it seemed inevitable. Time ticked by painfully slowly: 9:00… 9:15… 9:30… By 10:00, Leon was shifting in his seat, crossing his legs, and trying to stay calm. He was determined not to break the rules—he never wanted to face Meredith’s anger or disappointment. But if she didn’t come home in time… He shook his head. She said noon. You can hold it until noon, he told himself. He’d done it before. He’d do it again. Memories of the last time he disobeyed raced through his mind. About a week ago, she’d caught him sneaking off to the bathroom while she was out. He was wearing a childish onesie she had chosen, and the second she returned, he’d practically run past her toward the toilet. She noticed the onesie was unbuttoned. He’d undone it on his own. She was upset, not screaming or raging, but cold and disappointed. That, to him, was worse than any punishment. So he’d do what she wanted: hold it. By 11:15, he was practically shaking. He paced around the living room, turning the TV off because he couldn’t focus. The pressure was building painfully, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last. Finally, at 11:45, he heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Meredith stepped in, the faint smell of crisp autumn air swirling around her. She closed the door, set her purse down, and immediately looked at him with curiosity. “Hello, sweetie. How was your morning?” Leon let out a trembling breath. “It’s been okay. I… I’m glad you’re home.” She slipped off her jacket, revealing a form-fitting blouse and a knee-length skirt. She looked immaculate, her tall silhouette making him feel ridiculously small. “Did you follow the rules?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Leon nodded vigorously. “Yes. I haven’t gone to the bathroom since you left, and—Meredith, please, can I—?” She shrugged, setting her handbag on the counter. “Let me think about it.” A slow, playful grin slid across her face. Leon felt heat rise to his cheeks. He crossed his legs again, pressing them together. “Please,” he repeated, bouncing slightly in place. “Come with me to the bathroom,” she said quietly. He exhaled in relief and trailed behind her. The moment they reached the bathroom door, she turned around, blocking his entrance with an arm. “You waited, right?” “Yes,” he rasped. “Good boy.” She unfastened the shortall straps and helped him wriggle out of the garment, leaving him standing there in just his T-shirt, socks, and shoes. “All right, you may go.” She gave him a light nudge inside, standing in the doorway as if monitoring him. Usually, she supervised his toilet visits to make sure he wasn’t disobeying any hidden rules. He quickly tried to focus, lifting the seat and finally letting go. Relief flooded him, but his cheeks were bright red knowing she was right there, watching. Yet this was their arrangement—something he had grown used to, in his own shy way. When he finished, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper of relief. Meredith smiled, nodding with approval. “You did well. I see no accidents,” she remarked, scanning the front of his T-shirt. Leon’s heart still pounded with the aftershock of nearly losing control. “No,” he managed to say. “No accidents.” “Good,” she repeated, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you for holding it in.” His insides fluttered at the praise. He always craved her approval. Despite the embarrassment, the rules, the slight fear, there was a warm satisfaction that came from pleasing her. “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the bathroom. “Time for lunch. Then we’ll talk about the rest of the day.” Chapter Three: The Strict Afternoon After lunch—sandwiches she prepared while he stood on a stool at the counter, helping slice tomatoes—Meredith announced she’d be working from home the remainder of the day. She had a stack of documents to handle. Leon hovered in the kitchen, uncertain what she expected of him next. She noticed his anxious glance and beckoned him closer. “It’s going to be a long work session. I need to focus,” she said. “I’ll be in the study. You can watch TV or do something quiet in the living room. But no phone calls and no computer games without permission.” Leon nodded, fiddling with the hem of his shortalls. “Okay,” he murmured. “Do I have to do anything… else?” She tilted her head. “You mean chores?” He shrugged. “Chores, or errands, or something.” “I think you can handle cleaning your room,” she said. “I’ll inspect it later. And you are to ask me if you need to use the potty, understood?” He swallowed. “Yes, Meredith.” “All right. Off you go. And remember, I’ll be checking on you.” With that, she swept away into the study, closing the door behind her. Leon glanced at the clock: 12:40 PM. The next scheduled bathroom break was usually around mid-afternoon—unless he asked for special permission, which she sometimes granted, sometimes didn’t. He made his way to the bedroom to tidy up the bedclothes. After that, he dusted and vacuumed a little, determined to impress her by staying productive. As the minutes passed, he periodically glanced at the closed study door, tempted to peek his head in and see if she wanted coffee or something. But he dreaded disturbing her. She hated interruptions when she was concentrating. Eventually, Leon returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. The cartoon from earlier was still paused. He pressed play, letting the colorful images fill the screen. But he found it hard to relax. There was a growing sense of tension, deep down in his bladder again. Maybe that second glass of water at lunch was a bad idea. He tried to focus on the cartoon’s cheerful scenes—singing characters, bright backdrops, comedic moments. Time crawled: 1:00… 1:15… 1:30… By 2:00, the pressure was noticeable. Leon bit his lip, glancing at the study door again. Should he ask? Meredith might see it as a sign of weakness or defiance if he kept interrupting her schedule. But the alternative was risking an accident. He rummaged through the coffee table’s drawers to distract himself, coming across old board games and puzzle books. He found a half-completed crossword puzzle from weeks ago, the squares filled in by Meredith’s neat penmanship. He sighed, trying to pass the time, but the throbbing need in his abdomen kept gnawing at his thoughts. Finally, at 2:15, he couldn’t take it anymore. He padded softly over to the study door, raising his fist to knock. He hesitated, heart pounding. She was probably on a call. But if he waited any longer, something worse could happen. Summoning courage, he gave a gentle knock. “Who is it?” came her curt voice. “It’s me,” Leon answered timidly. “I… um… I need to ask you something.” “Come in.” He eased the door open. Meredith sat behind a large wooden desk, papers scattered around a laptop. She looked up, removing her glasses. “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a low whisper, “but I really need to use the restroom.” Her lips formed a thin line. “Is it that urgent?” Leon shifted on his feet, nodding. “Kind of. I’ve been trying to hold it for a while.” Meredith let out a slow exhale, then glanced at the clock on her computer. “We were going to do that at three o’clock. But you are asking nicely…” He clasped his hands in front of him, trying to stand as still as possible. “Please, Meredith?” She pondered for a moment. “All right. But I’m going to watch, to make sure everything’s done properly. And no fussing.” His eyes widened, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Standing up from her chair, she followed him to the bathroom. This time, she didn’t bother to unfasten his shortalls. Instead, she did it for him, as always—though with an air of slight annoyance. “Arms up,” she said, guiding the straps down. Leon turned away from her, aiming to close the door, but she stepped inside too. She always came in with him, but this time the closeness felt more imposing. “Hurry up,” she commanded. Leon’s face was practically on fire with embarrassment, but the need to relieve himself overcame his self-consciousness. He managed to get everything positioned and released. A soft gasp of relief escaped his lips. Meredith observed him carefully. When he was done, she helped him secure his shortalls back into place, snapping the straps. Then she turned on the sink faucet and waited while he washed his hands under her watchful gaze. “I won’t always let you do this,” she said softly. “I have rules for a reason. It’s important you learn how to follow them.” Leon nodded, shoulders slumping. He felt like a child receiving a reprimand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just really couldn’t wait.” She gently ruffled his hair. “Shh. It’s all right. Let’s get you back to your day.” And just like that, she returned to her study, leaving him alone in the hallway with the odd, lingering mix of relief and lingering shame. Chapter Four: Footed Sleeper Evenings Late afternoon arrived without further incident. Leon busied himself around the apartment, occasionally hearing Meredith’s voice from the study. She sounded professional and confident, reminding him of just how impressive she was in her career—and, in turn, how small he felt next to her in every regard. By the time 6:30 PM rolled around, Meredith emerged from the study, stretching her arms overhead. Her sharp gaze swept over the living room and kitchen. “Looks clean,” she commented, nodding at Leon. “Good job.” He felt a small glow of pride at her words. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you finish everything?” “Mostly,” she replied with a sigh. “I still have a bit more to do after dinner. How about you start setting the table while I check something in the bedroom?” Leon hopped up to obey, walking to the kitchen cabinets to gather plates and cutlery. He arranged them neatly, making sure everything was symmetrical—knowing she appreciated order. He placed two glasses and a set of napkins in perfect alignment, then set out the salt and pepper. Satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work. He glanced toward the bedroom, wondering what Meredith was up to. She was probably laying out his pajamas. That’s how every evening went: after dinner, she would dress him in some form of childlike sleepwear—often footed sleepers, sometimes with childish prints. If he was especially fidgety or whiny, she’d zip it in the back, removing his ability to unzip it himself. Some nights, she put on mittens, ensuring he couldn’t fiddle with the zipper. Part of him squirmed at the thought, but another part thrummed with excitement. Despite the occasional embarrassment, he found a peculiar comfort in the ritual of being tucked into bed by her. He relished the warmth of her presence, the bubble of security she created around him. She emerged a few minutes later, a sly smile on her face. “Dinner time,” she announced. “Let’s eat.” Dinner consisted of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a small portion of rice. Leon ate quietly, occasionally meeting Meredith’s eyes. She asked him about his day, praising him for keeping busy without fussing too much. He felt an uptick of pride at her approval. However, halfway through the meal, she cleared her throat. “I noticed something when I laid out your sleeper,” she began, fixing him with a steady look. “Some of your underwear had faint stains. Care to explain?” Leon nearly choked on his chicken. He stared at her, face burning. “I… I—It’s just… from earlier,” he stammered. “I was holding it for so long, I guess maybe I leaked a little?” She narrowed her eyes. “So you had a little accident?” He stared at his plate, nodding miserably. “Y-yes, but just a tiny bit, I swear.” Meredith set her fork down. “Hmm. That’s unfortunate. After all the trust I gave you to wait until lunch, then again this afternoon. You said you managed, but apparently, you leaked enough to stain your underwear.” Leon gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. It wasn’t a full accident. Just a little leak.” “Regardless,” she said, her voice cool, “it shows you’re not fully in control.” His eyes pricked with tears. “Please don’t be mad.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not angry, Leon. But I’m disappointed that you’re struggling with such a simple rule. If waiting is causing you accidents, perhaps we need a more secure solution.” Her words sent a chill through him. “Wh-what do you mean?” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Let’s finish dinner, and we’ll discuss it when we get you ready for bed.” Leon nodded, his appetite diminishing. He forced the rest of his vegetables down in silence, mind spinning with worry and humiliation. He had a feeling he knew what she meant by a ‘more secure solution.’ Chapter Five: An Unexpected Development After dinner, Meredith tasked Leon with loading the dishwasher. He did so mechanically, hands slightly shaking. He couldn’t stop thinking about her cryptic mention of a “secure solution.” Could she mean what he thought she did? She disappeared back into the bedroom. By the time he finished in the kitchen, she called his name. “Leon,” she said, standing in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. “Come here.” He approached hesitantly, heart hammering. She guided him inside, where the lamp on the nightstand cast a warm glow across the bed. Laid out on the duvet was a footed sleeper, a soft pastel-green color with a subtle pattern of tiny stars. Its zipper ran up the front, but a small padlock mechanism was threaded through the zipper pull. Next to it on the bed was a folded, puffy item. Leon’s stomach dropped. It was a diaper—a large, adult-sized diaper with cartoonish designs across the padding. He stared, speechless. His mind reeled. Sure, Meredith had teased about diapers before, mostly in a half-joking manner when he slipped up or whined too much. But he never thought she’d actually follow through. They were both adults, after all. Even if she treated him as if he were younger, diapers still felt like an extreme step. “I… I…” he started, but no words came out. Meredith cocked her head, her tall frame radiating authority. “These are for nights when you can’t maintain control,” she said calmly. “You’ve proven that you sometimes have accidents while trying to follow the rules. I don’t want you ruining your underwear or the sheets.” Leon’s face burned. “B-but… I—” She held up a hand. “Shh. We’re trying this tonight. Hopefully, it will teach you to be more mindful of your potty breaks when they’re scheduled. If you truly have no accidents, maybe we won’t need these. But for now…” She motioned to the diaper. “Take off your clothes.” He hesitated, a thick lump in his throat, but he knew better than to argue. He undid the shortalls and let them pool at his feet, then peeled off the T-shirt. Meredith patted the bed. “Lie down,” she instructed. Trying not to cry from humiliation, Leon sank onto the mattress, his small frame dwarfed by the plush bed. Meredith picked up the diaper, opening it with a loud crinkle. She maneuvered it under him, adjusting it carefully, then folded it up between his legs. The padding was thick, soft, and unmistakably babyish. Velcro tapes fastened at the sides. She smoothed the tapes, making sure it was snug around his waist. Leon swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. The sensation of the diaper hugging his lower half was strange and overwhelming. The thick bulk between his legs forced them apart slightly. Meredith leaned over him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. “Don’t be upset,” she cooed. “It’s just for your protection, and for my peace of mind. You might even find it comforting.” He shut his eyes, nodding wordlessly. Next, she guided his feet into the footed sleeper, pulling it up his body. Once his arms were inside, she zipped it up, locking the zipper with a small padlock near the neck. There would be no unzipping this without her key. Leon shivered, suddenly aware he was completely at her mercy. He could feel the diaper pressing against him, a constant reminder of his humiliation. Yet a small, secret part of him felt a twinge of guilty relief. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about leaking if he had to hold it too long… Meredith helped him off the bed, turning him to face the dresser mirror. “Look at that,” she said softly. “It fits you well, doesn’t it?” He caught a glimpse of himself: a short, slender young man clad in a pastel sleeper, locked, and obviously padded. It was juvenile, babyish, and undeniably humiliating. And yet, he felt a warmth coil in his chest, an odd sense of safety. Meredith leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on top of his head. “All set. Now, it’s still early, so you can stay up with me in the living room if you want to watch TV. But I don’t want you messing with that diaper. Understood?” Leon gulped. “Yes, Meredith,” he whispered. With that, she took his hand, leading him out to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. She switched on a TV show, sliding an arm around his shoulders. He rested his cheek against her side, feeling the crinkle of the diaper whenever he shifted. Her warmth enveloped him. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t deny the closeness and the comfort he felt pressed against her. They watched quietly for a while, the only sounds being occasional dialogue from the show and the subtle rustle of Leon’s diaper when he moved. Though she was being strict, Meredith also exuded a gentle tenderness. She smoothed her hand over his hair, letting him relax against her. He wondered if this was how children felt when nestled against a mother’s side—but no, that thought was too strange. He was an adult, even if everything about this arrangement suggested otherwise. After an hour or so, she clicked off the TV. “You’re probably tired. Let’s get you in bed.” Leon’s eyes fluttered. “Okay.” She led him back to the bedroom, helping him climb under the covers. The diaper’s thickness made him waddle slightly, but she made no mention of it. Once he was tucked in, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss goodnight. “Sleep well, little one,” she murmured, stroking his cheek. Leon felt a pang in his chest. Despite the embarrassment, he sensed an overpowering love for her. She had so much control, but also so much care. He closed his eyes, nodding. “Goodnight, Meredith,” he whispered. She switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The faint sound of her footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the soft rustle of his own humiliating bedtime attire. Yet despite everything, he drifted off feeling oddly comforted. Chapter Six: A Morning of Conflicting Emotions Leon awoke the next morning, squinting at the streams of daylight creeping in through the blinds. He tried to stretch, but the footed sleeper resisted his movement. The padlock at the collar was still firmly in place. Immediately, he became aware of the thick diaper around his waist. His heart pounded as he recalled last night’s humiliating bedtime routine. He shifted, feeling a slight warmth in the diaper’s padding. Dread stabbed at his chest. Had he wet himself in his sleep? He pressed his thighs together, and sure enough, the diaper felt heavier and damp. A wave of shame washed over him. He couldn’t remember when it happened. He had dozed off so deeply he never even woke up to use the bathroom. A swirl of conflicting emotions rose inside him: embarrassment, confusion, and, strangely, relief. At least the bed was dry. He heard footsteps approaching. In a moment, Meredith appeared, her tall frame filling the doorway. She smiled softly. “Good morning,” she greeted. “Sleep well?” Leon stammered, unsure how to respond. “I—I guess so.” Her gaze fell to his padded midsection. “Did you stay dry?” she asked, though the faint smirk suggested she already suspected the answer. He glanced away, cheeks aflame. “No,” he muttered. “I… had an accident.” Meredith strode over, unlocking the small padlock at his neckline with a tiny key. She slowly pulled the zipper down, revealing the sagging diaper. She pressed the padding gently, confirming it was indeed wet. Leon squirmed, face contorting with humiliation. “Well,” she said at last, “this just proves my point. You need diapers for bedtime until further notice.” Leon’s eyes stung with tears. He hated feeling so incompetent, but found himself nodding obediently. “Yes, Meredith.” “Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. She helped him out of the sleeper, rolling it aside to wash later. Then, carefully, she removed the diaper. The cool morning air brushed his skin. She took a pack of wipes from a shelf in the closet—he hadn’t noticed them before—and began gently cleaning him. He winced at the profound vulnerability of it all, but she was methodical and calm, as though caring for a dependent child. When she finished, she gave his hip a reassuring pat. “Now, go shower. I’ll find you some fresh clothes.” Leon didn’t need any more prompting. He hurried to the bathroom, stepping into the warm shower spray. As he scrubbed away the night’s shame, he let out a trembling sigh. Part of him felt humiliated beyond words, but another part felt a surprising sense of freedom in not having to worry about whether he wet the bed or not—Meredith took care of everything. Chapter Seven: Trying to Please Her After the shower, Leon found another childish outfit waiting on the bed: a bright red T-shirt with a cartoon lion on the front, and a pair of elastic-waist shorts that threatened to show the outline of any padded undergarment if he wore them. However, Meredith had not placed a diaper beside them this time. It seemed he was expected to manage on his own during the day—at least for now. He dressed quickly, then padded into the living room where Meredith was sipping coffee. She motioned for him to sit. “I’m going into the office again,” she announced. “I have some errands afterward, so I won’t be back until early evening. Think you can handle it?” Leon nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes flickered toward his shorts. “No diapers right now, but you’re still required to ask permission for the potty, remember?” A knot formed in his stomach. “B-but… you won’t be here,” he said. “How am I supposed to ask for permission?” “You’ll text me first,” Meredith said, as if it were the most obvious solution. “Wait for my response. If I approve, you can use the bathroom. Understood?” Leon swallowed hard. “Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “I mean it. If I find out you disobeyed, or if there’s any sign of accidents again, you’ll be wearing a diaper all day tomorrow as well. Clear?” A flush crept over his face. “Clear,” he replied softly. Meredith nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, I have to go. You have your instructions.” She kissed his forehead, grabbed her handbag, and left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Leon alone with his swirling thoughts once more. It was nearly 9 AM. He had to figure out how to keep himself occupied all day without leaving the apartment, and with the added stress of obtaining permission to use the bathroom via text message. He eyed the clock nervously. Typically, she gave him scheduled breaks: morning, midday, afternoon, evening. But now the dynamic was different—he had to ask every single time. Leon sighed, trying to calm the flutter in his belly. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself, rummaging around the kitchen for a small breakfast. He settled on cereal, though he couldn’t help but measure how much milk and juice he poured, terrified of needing to go too soon. Chapter Eight: Accidents, Consequences, and Confessions By lunchtime, Leon’s nerves were already shot. He’d texted Meredith around 11, asking if he could go to the bathroom. She replied after ten agonizing minutes of waiting, finally granting permission. He managed to avoid an accident that time. But around 1 PM, as he sat quietly in the living room reading a book, he felt another urge. He checked the time. Meredith had mentioned she’d be in an important meeting from 1 to 2 PM, so he hesitated. If she was in the meeting, she might not respond to texts promptly. Should he send her a message anyway and risk bothering her? Or should he hold it, hoping she’d be free soon? Eventually, he sent her a short text: “Hi, Meredith. May I please use the bathroom?” The minutes passed. No response. The minutes turned to a half-hour. Leon began to pace, sipping his water nervously, which only made things worse. By 1:40, he was practically dancing in place, pressing his thighs together. Still nothing. He sent another, more urgent text: “Please, Meredith. It’s an emergency.” At 1:50, he still hadn’t heard from her. His bladder burned, and tears pricked his eyes. He wanted desperately to follow her rule, but he was about to burst. Could he risk it? Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he used the bathroom since it was an actual emergency. But she had been so explicit. Disobeying meant guaranteed diapers the next day. Could he endure that shame again? He fidgeted, leaning against the wall, clenching every muscle he could. The world around him seemed to blur in a haze of desperation. 1:55… Leon couldn’t hold it. With a choked sob, he felt warmth flood his shorts. The liquid trickled down his legs, pooling on the floor. He froze, horrified. His cheeks burned with shame as he stood there in a puddle. He’d truly wet himself in the living room, at eighteen years old. Trembling, he grabbed paper towels, trying to mop up the evidence of his accident. He peeled off his sodden shorts and underwear, tossing them into the washing machine, desperately hoping to hide the mess before Meredith returned. But he couldn’t deny what had happened. He had broken the rule—except he hadn’t, had he? He’d tried to get permission, but she never responded. At 2:05, his phone buzzed. Meredith’s text appeared: “Yes, you can go now. Sorry for the delay.” Leon nearly burst into tears. It was too late. Chapter Nine: Love and Control Meredith arrived home around 5 PM. Leon was perched anxiously on the couch in a fresh pair of shorts, heart hammering. The moment she entered, he felt tears pricking his eyes. He needed to confess before she discovered the evidence. She set her purse down and fixed him with an expectant stare. “Well, did everything go smoothly?” Leon stood, hands shaking. “I—I tried. I texted you. Twice,” he said. “You didn’t respond until it was too late.” His voice trembled with shame. “I had an accident.” She pressed her lips together. “Where?” “In the living room,” he muttered, glancing down. “I cleaned it up right away. I’m sorry.” Meredith rubbed her temple. “Leon,” she began in a weary tone, “I gave you one simple rule. Did you try waiting or…?” He shook his head. “I did wait. I tried to hold it until you responded. But then I—I couldn’t anymore.” She sighed, stepping closer to him. He braced himself for anger, but instead, she pulled him into a loose embrace. He smelled the faint perfume in her hair. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Accidents happen when you’re forced to wait like that.” Leon buried his face against her, tears wetting her blouse. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” Meredith patted his back. “I know you tried. This arrangement might be too strict for your body to handle. Maybe I pushed you too far.” He blinked, pulling back, confused. “You… you think so?” She nodded, cupping his cheek. “Leon, I want to take care of you. I love you. But if these rules cause you distress and accidents, maybe we need to adjust them.” Leon stared up at her, feeling both relief and a pang of disappointment. As restrictive as the rules were, a part of him craved her control. “I… I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered. She kissed his forehead. “My sweet boy, you could never truly disappoint me if you’re honest with me. Let’s find a way that keeps you comfortable without accidents, all right?” He nodded, eyes stinging. “Yes, Meredith.” She smoothed down his hair. “That said, the diapers at night will continue. It’s clear you’re still having trouble staying dry. And maybe we’ll have you wear them during the day if you’re feeling uncertain. No more holding it to the point of accidents. Agreed?” A complicated mix of dread and comfort flooded him. “Agreed,” he said softly. That evening, after a light dinner and some shared relaxation time on the couch, Meredith once more led him to the bedroom. She had prepared another diaper and the familiar pastel-green sleeper, complete with the back-zip design. This time, he didn’t resist. He let her tape the diaper around his waist, welcoming the soft, bulky security. He noticed that she had sewn a small loop at the back of the sleeper’s collar, likely where she’d attach the padlock or a similar clasp. She pulled it up his body, sealing him in. Leon sighed as she locked him into the sleeper. Oddly enough, he felt relief. There would be no more frantic dashes or accidents; if it happened, at least he was protected. He laid down on the bed, exhaling the tension of the day. “Tomorrow, we can talk more about your potty schedule,” Meredith said, brushing a hand through his hair. “I still want you to ask permission, but we’ll give you a diaper if I’m away. That way, you won’t have to worry.” Leon looked up at her, a small smile ghosting his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. She returned the smile, bending low to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, little one.” Tears threatened to surface again, but they were tears of gratitude this time. “I love you too,” he choked out. Settling down under the covers, he listened to the calming sound of her breathing as she tucked him in. Despite the infantile attire, or perhaps because of it, a sense of safety blossomed in his chest. Meredith was demanding, controlling, and sometimes completely over the top—but she was also caring, nurturing, and, above all, his. Chapter Ten: Renewed Determination Despite the tension and embarrassment of Leon’s accident in Chapter Nine, the next morning dawned with a surprising sense of calm in the apartment. The living room was bathed in golden light as Leon padded out from the bedroom, diaper rustling softly beneath the pastel-green footed sleeper. He still wore the back-zip pajamas because Meredith—early to rise and already dressed in slacks and a blouse—wanted to supervise his morning routine. “Good morning,” she greeted, looking up from her laptop on the couch. “Sleep okay?” Leon nodded, cheeks flushing with the familiar bashfulness that came from being locked into his sleeper all night. “Yes,” he murmured, eyes drifting to the floor. “Thank you.” Meredith patted the cushion beside her, beckoning him to sit. The couch dipped under her weight as she scooted closer, one arm resting comfortably over his shoulders. “Let’s see how you did,” she said, reaching for the small lock at his collar. Her tone was neither cruel nor mocking—it was simply matter-of-fact, the caring severity of someone who expected to find a wet diaper. She withdrew the key from her pocket and unlocked the tab securing the zipper. The faint click sent a tremor of apprehension through Leon. Gently, she pulled the zipper down, revealing the thick, slightly damp diaper around his waist. A sigh escaped her lips—part relief, part acknowledgment. “Not too bad,” she said. “Still wet, but not soaked.” Leon rubbed his arms, noticing goosebumps from the morning chill. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically. She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize every time. We’ve talked about this. Diapers are here to help until you learn to manage. And if you can’t, well… that’s okay too. We’ll make sure you’re protected.” A swirl of conflicting emotion swept through him. He both hated and secretly welcomed the security of her strict care. Even if it made him feel smaller, something about her unwavering control comforted him. “All right,” Meredith said, gently pressing her warm palm against his upper back. “Let’s get you changed and dressed. We have errands today.” Leon exhaled a soft sigh of resignation. There was never any real choice in the matter—only the understanding that, under her guidance, he would be taken care of. She walked him to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper and a modest outfit lay waiting on the neatly made bed. This time, he noticed the diapers were in the open, lined up on a shelf—obviously a new normal. “You’ll wear this for the day,” she said, tapping the folded padding. “I have a busy schedule, and I can’t always answer your texts immediately. So, no accidents in your shorts this time.” Leon’s face burned with a mixture of shame and relief. “Yes, Meredith,” he murmured obediently. She set about changing him, wiping him down before securing the tapes snug around his hips. With practiced ease, she helped him step into a pair of casual khaki shorts and a short-sleeve polo that—thankfully—didn’t look too childish. However, as soon as he stood up, the outline of the diaper was unmistakable beneath the fabric, giving him a slight waddle. He fidgeted, unsure how to hide it. Meredith tilted his chin up with her finger. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “You’re under my protection. I won’t let anyone see more than necessary. Now, get your shoes on. We’re heading out soon.” Leon swallowed hard, nodding. A renewed determination to trust her—and to obey her strict potty rules—settled in his chest. If wearing a diaper in public was the price to avoid accidents, he would accept it. After all, he loved her. And in his own private way, he loved this nurturing dominance she provided. Chapter Eleven: An Outing of Discomfort Meredith parked the car outside a bustling shopping center, sunlight glinting off the polished vehicles in the lot. Leon sat in the passenger seat, heart thumping. He hadn’t been outside in a diaper often—usually, Meredith arranged short, discreet errands or handled them alone. Yet here they were, preparing for a full afternoon of shopping. He was diapered under his khaki shorts, his every movement producing a barely audible crinkle. Fear gnawed at him. What if someone heard? What if someone noticed the slight bulge? Meredith unfastened her seatbelt, turning toward him. “Ready?” Leon’s fingers twisted in his lap. “I—yes,” he said, voice trembling. “But—do I really have to wear this in public?” A trace of amusement danced across Meredith’s features, but she tempered it with understanding. “Yes, Leon. You know the rules. You’ve had accidents, and I can’t keep leaving you alone in the apartment every time I need to run errands. This is safer.” His cheeks burned a deep crimson. “I—I understand,” he managed. She offered a small, reassuring smile before exiting the car. Reluctantly, Leon followed, stepping onto the asphalt. The sensation of the diaper’s padding made his walk slightly bow-legged. He glanced around nervously, certain everyone would see. But the world carried on, no one giving him more than a passing glance. It was a busy weekend afternoon: couples strolling hand in hand, parents corralling rambunctious kids, elderly folks lugging grocery bags. No one seemed to notice the shy, diminutive eighteen-year-old waddling after his tall girlfriend. Meredith led him through a few stores, picking up home essentials and groceries. She maintained a calm composure, instructing him softly if she wanted help grabbing an item. Occasionally, she’d slip her arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd. Despite the unwavering sense of embarrassment, Leon felt a protective warmth emanating from her touch. Midway through their errands, as they stopped at a store to browse kitchen utensils, Leon’s eyes widened. The dull pressure in his bladder reminded him of an awkward truth: if he needed to use the bathroom, he had to ask Meredith. And given their conversation, he suspected she might make him use the diaper instead—especially in a public restroom scenario where it might be less private. Swallowing hard, he tugged lightly at her sleeve. “Meredith?” he whispered. She was examining a set of ceramic bowls but turned at his soft plea. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” “I… I have to go,” he admitted, cheeks blazing. “Number one.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Hmm. Well, we could go to the bathroom. But then I’d have to help you remove everything.” Her tone was sympathetic yet firm. “It might be easier if you just let your diaper handle it. That’s what it’s for.” Leon felt a knot twist in his stomach. Wet himself on purpose, in a public store? The thought horrified him. But she was right—unfastening and refastening a taped diaper in a public restroom stall seemed equally daunting. “Let’s finish shopping,” she said in a low voice. “If it’s urgent, use your diaper. Then I’ll change you when we get home.” Leon’s entire face felt aflame. But he couldn’t argue; she was in charge. He stayed close to her side, trying to will his bladder to remain calm. Yet within minutes, the urge intensified. Eventually, he yielded, letting go in subtle spurts, feeling warmth spread through the padding. His heart thumped—he was wetting himself in the middle of a store, next to his girlfriend. It was humiliating and strangely intimate. By the time they checked out and returned to the car, the diaper clung heavily to his skin. Meredith noticed the slight sag, her expression shifting to one of tender concern. “You okay?” she asked, voice gentle. He nodded, too humiliated to speak. As they climbed back into the car, he squirmed against the seat, the wet diaper pressing against him. Meredith placed a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezed. It was a reminder that she was proud of him for following the rules—odd though those rules might be. They drove home in silence, tension coiling in his chest. Yet beneath it all, a flutter of relief swirled: he had obeyed her. He had done what she said, and there was a strange sense of accomplishment in that submission. Maybe he was just relieved to know she’d soon change him, freeing him from the clammy discomfort. Leon stared out the window, cheeks still burning, as he braced himself for the next step: reporting his soggy diaper to Meredith like a dependent child. And, in a bittersweet twist, he realized that he no longer felt quite as anxious about it—because he trusted her. Chapter Twelve: Adjusting and Accepting When they arrived home, Meredith wasted no time ushering Leon to the bedroom. He felt her warm hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, guiding him inside. The memory of his wet diaper burned in his mind, a tangible reminder of how little control he was supposed to have. “Let’s get you changed,” she said, her voice low and calm, almost comforting. Leon perched on the edge of the bed, arms folded uncertainly. Meredith stepped into the closet, retrieving a pack of wipes and another diaper from the growing stash. The plastic packaging crinkled loudly as she pulled one out. He lifted his hips obediently, allowing her to peel down his shorts. A wave of cool air brushed his thighs, intensifying the humiliating awareness of the heavy, sagging diaper around his waist. Her expression remained calm—patient, even—like a caretaker simply doing what had to be done. “You did well,” she murmured as she undid the tapes. “I know it must have been scary.” Leon swallowed, cheeks reddening. “It was,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t like doing that in public. But… if it’s what you want—” She set the soaked diaper aside, using a gentle wipe to clean him. “It’s not about what I want,” she corrected him, though her tone hinted otherwise. “It’s about what works for us. You’re prone to accidents. I don’t want you stressed or embarrassed about sneaking off to the bathroom. A diaper solves that.” He nodded, though a twinge of confusion fluttered in his stomach. Part of him wondered if he was truly that helpless, or if her controlling nature had simply convinced him so. Yet her nurturing presence soothed away his doubts. Feeling the soft, fresh diaper taped securely around his waist brought a wave of both shame and relief. Once she finished, she handed him a pair of comfortable sweatpants. “Wear these for the rest of the day,” she said, then paused, meeting his gaze. “Leon, if you need to use the bathroom and I’m around, I’ll help you remove everything. But if you’re alone, you should use your diaper, okay? No more accidents on the floor or in your underwear.” A small nod was all he could manage. “Yes, Meredith.” Her eyes seemed to soften. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of how cooperative you’ve been.” That simple praise flooded him with an inexplicable warmth. He realized how deeply he craved her approval. Every small gesture of reassurance seemed to justify the surrender he felt, the childlike acceptance of her rules. It was disorienting, yet undeniably comforting. The rest of the evening fell into a gentle rhythm. She guided him through a few household tasks—organizing drawers, vacuuming the living room—activities that he performed in his thick, padded undergarment, constantly aware of the faint crinkle with each step. Yet by nightfall, he realized he wasn’t quite as self-conscious as before. He could move freely, even forgetting at times that a diaper was taped around his waist. And so, as bedtime approached, Meredith once again led him through the ritual: a final bathroom check under her supervision, then a fresh night diaper, followed by a whimsical footed sleeper zipped and locked at the back. She tucked him in, pressed a goodnight kiss to his forehead, and switched off the lamp. In the darkness, Leon sighed. This new sense of routine—of wearing diapers day and night—didn’t feel quite as alien as it once had. He wondered if that was a good thing, or if it simply meant he was losing pieces of his adulthood. But his mind didn’t dwell on it long. Exhaustion took him, and he drifted off, lulled by the gentle rustle of his padded underwear and the knowledge that Meredith was proud of him. Chapter Thirteen: Testing Boundaries The days rolled by in a blur of routine: breakfast together, a diaper check, dressing in youthful clothes Meredith chose, occasional errands if she needed something, and always the unwavering rule of requesting permission—or using his diaper—whenever nature called. Leon found himself settling into the pattern with surprising ease. But with familiarity came curiosity—and a streak of rebellion. One afternoon, Meredith stepped out to pick up a package from the building’s reception desk. She instructed Leon to remain in the apartment, as usual. Sinking onto the living room couch, Leon felt the snug pull of his diaper around his hips, reminding him of his constant lack of autonomy. A stray thought nudged at him. What if he tried removing the diaper himself, just to see if he could? Perhaps he’d use the toilet without waiting for her. He was an adult—eighteen, yes, and short, but perfectly capable of managing the simplest bodily functions without a caretaker’s guidance. Right? The idea bloomed into a daring impulse. Meredith wouldn’t be gone long. If he acted quickly, he could strip off the diaper, use the bathroom, and tape it back in place—she might never know, unless she checked the tapes closely. His heart pounded. Could he pull it off? With trembling hands, he stood and slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door. He stared at himself in the dresser mirror—his small frame swaddled in a childlike T-shirt and an unmistakable diaper bulge. Taking a shaky breath, he peeled down his sweatpants to reveal the tapes. He’d never removed them on his own; Meredith always did it for him. Nervous excitement thrummed in his veins. Slowly, he reached for one of the tapes, pulling it free with a soft ripping sound. He paused, listening for footsteps or voices in the hallway. Silence. Emboldened, he undid the second tape. A moment later, the diaper slid to the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in days, he felt the cool air against his bare skin. But just as he turned to head for the bathroom, he heard the distinctive jingle of keys at the front door. Panic shot through him. He scrambled, trying to lift the diaper back into place, fumbling with the tapes. His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t align them properly. “Leon?” Meredith’s voice, suddenly closer than he expected. He froze, a terrible realization sinking in: she had the keys, and the apartment door was already open. He pictured her stepping inside, noticing the bedroom door closed. Any second now, she’d be here. His eyes darted around for a place to hide. His heart hammered. The diaper was half-secured, one tape crooked, the other barely stuck to the front panel. Before he could fully fix it, the bedroom door opened. Meredith stood in the threshold, eyebrows arched. Her gaze swept over him—pants around his ankles, the diaper precariously attached, guilt shining in his eyes. He swallowed, feeling a wave of mortification so intense it made him dizzy. She took a measured step forward, an unreadable expression on her face. “Care to explain?” she asked softly, though her tone carried the weight of disappointment. Leon’s eyes stung with imminent tears. “I—I just…” His voice wavered. “I wanted to use the toilet. By myself.” Silence stretched. Then she shut the door behind her, crossing her arms. The tension in the room was palpable. “You know the rules,” she said quietly. “If you need the toilet and I’m not here, you use your diaper or wait.” He bit his lip, tears blurring his vision. “I—I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to prove I could do it on my own.” Meredith’s gaze softened slightly, though her posture remained firm. “Get on the bed,” she said, nodding toward the mattress. “Lie down.” He obeyed, shuffling awkwardly and sinking onto the comforter. She followed, kneeling beside him, methodically reattaching the diaper’s tapes. Though her movements were gentle, a current of disappointment tinged the air. “I’m not punishing you because you need help,” she explained, voice subdued. “I’m upset because you broke trust. You tried to remove the diaper behind my back instead of talking to me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just feel so… helpless sometimes.” Meredith’s expression softened further. She cupped his cheek, brushing a tear away with her thumb. “I know it can be hard. But we made an agreement. I need you to respect it.” He nodded miserably. “I will… I promise.” She helped him stand, pulling his sweatpants up over the re-secured diaper. Then, with surprising tenderness, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her tall frame. “You’ll be wearing thicker diapers for a while,” she murmured. “And I’ll check them more often. I have to be sure I can trust you.” Leon’s chest clenched. The idea of bigger, more conspicuous padding made his stomach sink. Yet he deserved it, he supposed, for breaking the rules. “I understand,” he said hoarsely, arms sliding around her waist. She held him quietly for a moment, letting the tension ebb. He felt her lips graze his temple, a soft, reassuring gesture. The conflict between frustration and comfort roiled inside him. Part of him wanted more independence; part of him felt relief that she refused to let him fend for himself. Without further discussion, she led him back to the living room, returning to their daily routine. But now a new tension lingered—an unspoken reminder that she was always in control, and that if he tried to break free, the rules would only tighten. And for reasons that baffled him, a small, conflicted part of Leon found a flicker of solace in that unwavering authority. Chapter Fourteen: Closer Under Stricter Rules The weeks following Leon’s failed act of independence were marked by intensified control. Meredith insisted on thicker diapers, even during short outings. His schedule became more rigid. Now, each morning after breakfast, she’d conduct a “diaper check” to ensure he was properly padded and that he hadn’t tampered with the tapes. Whenever she left him alone, she’d set timeframes for when he could text or call. Sometimes she’d even leave the bedroom door open so she could keep an eye on him from other parts of the apartment. At first, Leon felt smothered—his guilt over lying to her was matched only by the frustration of feeling like a child. Yet something unexpected blossomed in the midst of these stricter measures: an undeniable closeness. Each small act of nurturing drew them nearer in an odd, secret way. When Meredith changed him out of a soggy diaper with gentle reassurance, he felt loved. When she praised him for complying with his schedule, he felt proud. Their bond, once overshadowed by fear and embarrassment, grew into a new kind of intimacy. It happened late one evening, as she was zipping him into a fresh footed sleeper. He lay on the bed, arms folded, face flushed, while she carefully aligned the zipper. Once it was done, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips—a kiss that, for the first time, felt more than protective. There was a hint of passion, an adult warmth. Leon’s heart fluttered. She pulled away slowly. “I love taking care of you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky in the dim bedroom light. “Even if you test my patience sometimes.” Leon swallowed, eyes shining. “I love you,” he breathed, the admission trembling with vulnerability. “I—I really do.” She brushed a hand over his cheek, hooking a finger around the sleeper’s collar to ensure it was snug. “I know,” she replied, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “That’s why this works—because we trust each other, don’t we?” He nodded. “I’m sorry about before… trying to remove the diaper on my own. I won’t do it again.” Meredith’s smile softened. “I believe you,” she said, then locked the tiny clasp at the nape of his neck. The soft clink of metal felt final. “Now, get some rest.” With that, she flicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp. He burrowed under the covers while she settled beside him for a moment, stroking his hair as though soothing a restless child. The gentle caress lulled him into a half-doze, each breath in tandem with the quiet hiss of air conditioning. He felt a surge of affection so strong it was almost painful. Yes, her rules could be stifling. Yes, he sometimes hated feeling dependent. But she was also his haven—his protector, who willingly took on this responsibility to keep him safe and stress-free. In that sense, the diapers, the childish clothes, and the locked sleepers were all expressions of her unwavering commitment. Eventually, she stood to leave, switching off the lamp entirely. “Goodnight, little one,” she whispered, her voice floating through the darkness. Leon closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow with a soft rustle of crinkling plastic. “Goodnight,” he managed, comforted by her presence even as she slipped away. And as he drifted into sleep, he wondered if this deepening closeness was worth the cost of his dwindling autonomy. Chapter Fifteen: The Unshakable Bond Morning light found Leon stirring early, roused by a nagging pressure in his bladder. He blinked sleep from his eyes, momentarily forgetting the confines of his locked footed sleeper. As he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, the thick padding between them reminded him precisely of his predicament. For a fleeting second, panic seized him—he needed to go, and there was no easy way out. But then memory returned in a warm rush: Meredith. She would help him. He just had to call out. “Meredith?” he croaked softly, clearing his throat. “Meredith!” A moment later, the bedroom door opened, revealing her tall silhouette, hair in a loose ponytail. She flicked on the lamp, letting a soft glow illuminate her concerned face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Leon swallowed, cheeks warming. “I—uh, need the bathroom. Please.” Her gaze flickered to the locked collar of his sleeper, then down to his diaper. “Let’s see…” she murmured. She retrieved the key from the dresser and came closer. “We’ll get you out. Hold on.” He exhaled shakily as she unlocked the small metal clasp, unzipped him, and peeled open the footed pajamas. The crisp air prickled his skin. Within seconds, he was free—except for the diaper taped tightly around him. “Stand up,” she directed, guiding him gently. He pressed his thighs together, bladder now pleading for release. She plucked at the diaper’s tapes, revealing his bare hips. “All set,” she announced. Without waiting another second, Leon darted to the bathroom. This time, there was no condescending observation or requirement to text for permission—she was right there, consenting to let him go. Relief washed over him, both physically and emotionally. When he finished, Meredith stood by the sink, watching calmly. Wordlessly, she handed him a fresh diaper, indicating he should rejoin her in the bedroom. Leon obeyed, though he felt a flicker of pride. She was letting him do part of it himself—at least carrying the diaper. Back in the bedroom, he lay on the bed, anticipating her usual routine of taping him up. But she surprised him by placing the diaper in his hands. “Try,” she said softly. His eyes widened. “You… you want me to do it?” She nodded, an encouraging smile on her lips. “Yes. Go on, show me.” Nervous but determined, Leon unfolded the diaper. He positioned it under himself, fumbling with the tapes. Twice, the adhesive caught on the wrong spot, creating crooked wings. Meredith watched patiently, offering occasional suggestions: “Bring it up a bit higher in front,” or “Tighten the left tape.” After some clumsy effort, he managed a passable fit. It felt snug—but not quite as neat as when she did it. Still, a wave of satisfaction rippled through him. The partial freedom of dressing himself was exhilarating, even if the result was still a diaper. Meredith patted the front. “Good job,” she praised. “Now, it’s not perfect, but it’ll hold for a while.” He beamed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The subtle acknowledgment that he could do something as basic as tape on his own diaper, under her supervision, felt like an important step. It was a small slice of autonomy within the realm of her control. “We’ll see how you manage,” she continued, smoothing down his hair. “If you do well, maybe I’ll let you take more responsibility for your changes—under my guidance, of course.” Leon nodded, heart fluttering. “Thank you,” he whispered earnestly. In that moment, a new understanding passed between them. Their bond was unshakable now, grounded not just in her dominance but in a shared willingness to adapt. She’d grown stricter after he broke her trust, but she also recognized his desire for a smidge of independence. They didn’t need to be locked in an endless cycle of parent and child. They were lovers, partners—albeit in a very unconventional arrangement. And so, as Meredith helped him into a pair of soft lounge pants, the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smile. “Let’s go have breakfast,” she said, lacing her fingers through his and giving him a tender squeeze. Leon squeezed back, feeling the padded bulk beneath his pants but no longer drowning in shame. Yes, it was still embarrassing, and he still had rules and limitations, but he was beginning to realize that, at the core of it all, they truly cared for each other. Their relationship wasn’t defined by his size or her control, but by the intimacy and trust they cultivated day by day. He followed her out to the kitchen, diaper rustling in time with his step. Love blossomed in his chest, soft and certain. They were forging a balance—one where she guided him with structure, and he offered devotion and openness in return. For the first time since this odd journey began, Leon felt confident that despite the diapers, the childish clothes, and the potty rules, he and Meredith were heading toward something healthy and lasting: a bond that neither of them ever wanted to break. Epilogue A few months later, their small apartment felt more like a sanctuary than ever. The bedroom closet now housed a full set of neatly stacked diapers and childish outfits. A special drawer even contained footed sleepers with various colors and prints. Leon sometimes giggled at just how large their “babyish” collection had grown—and how routine it had become to wear them. But if anyone asked how they lived, they would never fully understand the tapestry of love and control woven into their day-to-day. Leon was still small for his age, and Meredith still stood a majestic six foot one—always a striking figure next to him. Yet their dynamic had evolved into a fluid dance between caretaker and lover, discipline and compassion. Most mornings, Leon took pride in taping on his own diaper under Meredith’s watchful eye, a sign of trust regained after his earlier missteps. He appreciated that small allowance of autonomy, even if the end result—padded underwear—remained the same. They had found a middle ground: Leon could participate in the process while still relying on Meredith’s guidance and final approval. Their schedules remained structured: breakfast together, chores or errands, and occasional nights out when Meredith felt he could handle a discrete pull-up beneath carefully chosen clothes. She insisted on the same strict potty rules—permission required, or else using his diaper. Yet she was more flexible in granting him access to the toilet if he asked politely and the timing worked. She even allowed him the small triumph of undressing himself sometimes, though major clothing changes—especially diaper changes—were still primarily her domain. And Leon discovered that, in this near-constant state of managed dependency, he found security. The embarrassment never fully disappeared—he still blushed whenever she patted his diaper to check for wetness in front of a mirror, or when she zipped him into a footed sleeper hours before bedtime. But he’d come to enjoy the closeness, the protective embrace of her authority. Their love life thrived, too, in its own secret way. While the story behind their padded routines and potty rules was not something they shared with others, it forged a profound trust between them. She cradled him with a mix of parental warmth and adult desire, bridging the gap between caretaker and partner. He, in turn, found joy in pleasing her—accepting her rules, even appreciating them, for what they gave him in return. On a crisp, clear morning, they stood together in the living room, the sun casting bright rectangles across the floor. Meredith had just finished checking his diaper—still dry—and was reminding him of his chores for the day. Leon stared up at her, feeling every inch the smaller man, yet entirely content. “Remember,” she was saying in that measured tone, “if you need the potty, you call me or text me. If I don’t answer, you use the diaper. No accidents on the floor.” “Yes, Meredith,” Leon responded readily. Then, unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek against her torso. “Thank you,” he whispered, though he wasn’t quite sure for what—perhaps for everything. She laughed softly, brushing a hand over his hair. “You’re welcome, little one. Now off you go.” And so their life continued—a carefully balanced blend of loving dominance and welcomed submission, of soft crinkles and locked sleepers, of structure and devotion. In the end, their bond had become unbreakable: the tall, commanding woman and her tiny, adoring boyfriend, joined in a private world of mutual care and trust. Though it defied outside understanding, for them, it was perfect. And in the comfort of that shared knowledge, they closed the door to the rest of the world, content to exist precisely as they were—together.

Prologue: A girl called Tiffany has been an ice skater since she was a child, thanks to her mother and sister, but there was something hidden that worried her a lot, her mother, who was Mary, a dominant woman, always pushed her to the extreme, whether it was gymnastics or skating, it was hours and hours of training and that wasn't the worst of it, she took growth inhibitors to get smaller, her mother said that gymnasts and skaters shouldn't be big and that wasn't the worst thing, she was treated like a baby so that she could compete in the children's competition, she was forced to wear diapers and pants and that combined with her size went unnoticed, she was a child, so she wouldn't be caught moving out of town. Chapter 1 Tiffany, the Ice Queen, was what all the headlines proclaimed. However, behind this glorious title was a very different reality. Sitting in her car seat, Tiffany looked like a child of eight, despite her seventeen years. Wearing a black Barbie T-shirt and sweatpants, her appearance was undeniably childish. Her rather large pants showed the edge of the diaper she was wearing, making the contrast between her apparent and real age even more obvious. On the bench next to her was Stacy, a fair-haired, soft-skinned girl wearing designer clothes, and her thirteen-year-old sister, holding a pink bottle of formula and gently putting it to Tiffany's lips. Stacy was saying: "Drink it all up, baby, so you can grow up strong." It was a scene that might seem strange to anyone who didn't know the story behind that family. In the driver's seat, Mary, a charming and beautiful woman, drove the car with determination. Her face, despite its serene expression, showed an expression of affection. Looking at the scene, all it took was one serious look to make Tiffany, who was a little stiff and didn't want to drink the bottle, drink it and her gaze returned to one of tenderness. How had Tiffany gotten to this point? Some time before: Tiffany was a native of the state of Minnesota, more precisely of St. Paul. Her family, which once enjoyed a middle-class life, was now facing crises that left deep scars on their daily lives. Mary, the matriarch of the family, was sitting at the table, enjoying a slice of pie and a cup of tea. Leafing through pages of sports magazines, she came across cut-out photos of renowned ice skaters and gymnasts, whose performances exuded grace and talent. The images were a constant reminder of a glorious past and unfulfilled dreams. As her mind plunged into memories of the past, the sound of the "Esmeralda" dance song echoed on Mary's lips. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, and anxiety took hold of her. "That girl is late for training again... it must be those silly little friends of hers," muttered Mary, visibly stressed. Shortly afterwards, the door opened and Tiffany walked in, her blonde hair protected by a cap. On seeing her mother, who asked her why she was so late, Tiffany replied with an excuse about schoolwork. Mary pretended to accept the explanation and went to her daughter's room. Tiffany's room was a child's haven, adorned with colorful posters of her favorite ice skaters. Each image seemed to echo the pressure and expectations that hung over her. As she headed for the bathroom, Mary called for Tiffany, who promptly went into the living room. There, her mother urged her: "We have practice now, come on, little girl." Tiffany tried to argue that she needed to use the bathroom first, but Mary pulled her firmly by the arm, insisting that there was no time to lose. What did the suitcases and ice skates in her car mean? Tiffany's life was a real puppet show, with invisible strings pulling her in unpredictable directions. Author note Hello, I've been away for a while and for a good reason I'm preparing Becky's story in book format with many more details and perhaps surprise photos 🫢 look forward to it! If you want to see photos and more stories, come to my DeviantArt and if you want to support my work, go to my kofi. https://ko-fi.com/lolabunny2rabbit https://www.deviantart.com/lolabunnyrabbit2

I'm Back with another story. Check out my previous one here >The Girls Holiday.... Hopefully you like this one 😊 The Storywriter (Part 1 ) I guess with every story I must first introduce myself, My name is Robert or Rob for short. Unless if your name is Emily (My Wife) and can get away with calling me Robby, grrr I hate nicknames with a passion. Anyways enough digesting I guess, We live in a small town called Maplewood, every face is a familiar one and we both lived a life threaded with love and quiet dreams, This is where my Ego comes into play I guess with my Slender looks i tend to stay at home a lot and work from home. See I am a Storywriter, People basically email me ideas and plots and I make them into a story of magical wonder and fiction and sometimes fact. Emily works in the local nursery as an administrative assistant and I am very much packing my weight, If you don’t get my expression she makes you double back if you past her in the street and nearly bang your head into the lamppost and forget what you just saw, Lets just say I am a very lucky man however we do have 1 big problem in our relationship and that is we cant have children, Emily has a medical condition, The doctors tried to rectify this due to our young ages however was unable to. Fast forward 1 year to today and I have just has my 21st birthday, Emily is a little older at the age of 24 but we get on and that’s all that matters, We have lived in Maplewood now for 1 year and settled in well. The Community is very small and word gets round this town faster than my Nan can walk to the corner shop. With no family in any reasonable traveling distance apart from the Mother in Law who comes over once a week and cleans for us, Family gatherings are a lot of hard work to organise. As I look out the window I can see that a golden haze settled over the town. I am sat at my cluttered desk and the hum of the computer is like a distant white noise. I am writing a story for a client called “The secrets within” when suddenly I got an email notification on my screen. Now normally I would just ignore this email and keep typing but I was particular curious by the title of the email called ABDL, I was trying to work out the acronym to such a strange email but couldn’t figure it out in my head so I had to click on the email to read more. As I sat reading what was written in the email, a sense of fear came over me if I can do such a thing. I had thoughts about the whole scene and thoughts how I was going to make it into a story, I also had thoughts why someone would want this to happen to them and thoughts about refusing as I do not do sexual stories or erotica at all. My thoughts soon snapped out however when the doorbell to the house rang and made me jump out my seat.

Disclaimer: I’m posting a little outtake and sneak peak of what my next story is going to be after ‘A Little’s Life’! The story won’t be in the ‘You’ pov but this was just a fun little idea I had where you can place yourself in the main character’s shoes! I may end up putting this in the actual story later on but I’m still deciding on that. However, enjoy in the meantime and tell me what you think! OoOoo Your incontinent now. The sensation is there when you need to go but the desire to hold it in is no longer present. You release your bodily fluids into a thick oversized article of clothing around your lower half for the pleasure of another and absolutely love it because that’s what she loves. Your Mommy. She loves when you wet yourself and even more when you mess. There’s a thrill of excitement and the maternal pleasure mixed with a scheming sparkle behind her cloudy blue eyes that makes every cold and soggy moment worth it. “Tickle me surprised, that can’t be… y /n?” a voice called out in the distance directed at you but can’t look away from the screen because Mommy said good girls and boys watch Soggy Froggy and Soggy Froggy won’t let you go until your diapers are as soggy as each other’s which is never a problem. “Oh, y/n doesn’t answer to that silly name anymore.” Mommy laughed with a wave of her hand. “It’s good to see you out and about!” “I see you have finally broken the unbroken.” “It’s just the power of the Revamp.” The person sounds impressed and you can’t help but feel pride. It had taken a lot of work to undo all of the damage caused by your own selfish wants and desires. You had been a spoiled brat, demanding more and more unrealistic expectations like the rights to make your own decisions and have a mind of your own. Hah! As if! You were just above five feet tall and that hardly constituted an adult plus the fact you were nearly thirty eight years old with a full time job? Someone had been pulling the piss out of you, fueling your delusions for so many years. It was a relief when Mommy finally stepped in and if not for the the Revamp, you never would have seen the beauty and joy of being re-diapered, having all control taken away and being reminded of what a dumb, immature baby you are with a pea sized brain made for nothing but an Amazon’s pleasure. And you couldn’t forget Soggy Froggy. A high pitched giggle escapes past your lips as Soggy Froggy ribbets out the song: Soggy Froggy likes to hop. Soggy Froggy likes to jump. Soggy Froggy likes to laugh and Soggy Froggy likes to dance! Do you know what else Soggy Froggy likes to do? Soggy Froggy likes to poop, just like you! Can you make a boom boom like Soggy Froggy? How soggy are you? Oh you were very soggy and that wasn’t the only thing. Your diaper was already bursting at the seams, ready to spill over but that didn’t matter. Mommy loved a good blow out and the messier the better, especially in public. It was the blush of your skin and startled look in your glazed over eyes that got her going every time. It is at those moments you recall the fleeting memory of the dignity you used to possess, how far you had fallen, which just added to the debasement that she made sure you wouldn’t forget. But it was something that you deserved and the Revamp was a reminder of that in the form of a grumbling tummy and expanding diaper every day. “Oh, y/n doesn’t respond to that name. Hasn’t in months now!” Yes, that’s right. No more y/n. Only y/n. “Hehehe!” You giggle and giggle and at Soggy Froggys request, allow your grumbly tummy to do what it is yearning for. There’s an audible crinkle as your diaper swells with warm piss, ballooning out nearly to your knees and it’s good you were in a stroller because you wouldn’t be able to walk otherwise (not that you needed to much these days). A pungent odor of stale urine stuck to the inside of your thighs and a freshly made warm bowel movement creeped up your backside in an uncomfortable, disgusting feeling. As the screen goes black suddenly, the episode is done and the iPad has disappeared from your hands tucked away in the underbelly of the contraption. “What a darling girl you have,” the woman cooed with her pearly white teeth bared in a way that reminded you more of the monsters hiding beneath your crib than a friendly smile. “It seems someone has finally learned the pleasure of diapers.” “Yes, well life is better when all you have to do is eat and play and sleep all day.” “And not even wipe your own ass.” “Precisely!” The two laugh, reminiscent of the whines of hyenas closing in on their prey. “Y/n was such a bitch back then. You don’t know how badly I wanted to stick an enema up their ass and watch them squirm and beg.” Hissed the mysterious Amazon. The eleven foot tall woman glowered down at you with sudden hateful eyes and you do not know what you have done wrong but it must have been bad because you was very naughty back then, very immature talking back to these Amazons who obviously were way more smarter and mature. Shooting a worried look to Mommy, she is not paying attention and you shift uncomfortably in the soiled smelly diaper as the harness harshly pressed against the sodden padding. You desperately want a change but know it is incredibly selfish to wish that because Mommy worked so hard, just like every Amazon, and it wasn’t fair to demand so much from a person. You want to scream against the inequality but a firm pat to your succulent crotch emits a loud squelch and the awful thoughts leave your mind. It reminds you of why you are in diapers in the first place and why you should be grateful for Mommy’s sadistic love and care. Just a dimwitted Little, your wants and needs don’t even come second or third or fourth to the much superior beings. That’s why you had a binky to reflect, keep quiet and remember why you are in this position in the first place. To remind you that you deserved every overflowing diaper, uncomfortable restraint and punishing hand because you failed at being grown up and had to be set back in your place. If a collar was a slave’s symbol of ownership and submission then a diaper was yours and Mommy held the chain. “Y/n has at least two bowel movements a day, sometimes even three and wets every hour or so! We can’t have them forgetting their place, can we?” The question is phrased toward you and shaking your head in response, you are unable to speak due to the ballooned pacifier between your lips and Mommy smiles down at you. Good baby. You read the praise in her eyes. Obedient. Silent. Wet and messy. That’s all you need to be to fulfill your purpose in life no matter how degrading and it wasn’t for my own comfort but for the Amazons' will. That’s what the Revamp taught every infected Little, the disease seeping into the nooks and crannies of your brain and stripping away any semblance of humanity you had left. Left in place were simpering, helpless beings finally having seen the light. The Revamp didn’t change who you are. Instead it forced you to admit who you’ve really have really been all along and embrace your natural self that society forced you to suppress. It was six months ago in a leak across the nation the Revamp occurred. In a technologically dominated society that could not function without the ample and quick use of the shiny and inventive gadgets, the dimension was in a panic. The solution to the dire problem was a revamp which meant the reworking of the entire systems and as they were powered back on twenty four hours later, Littles began to drop like flies. Infected from a mass hypnotization across the city by the Revamp, it brought out every Little’s inner submissiveness and utmost childish side. Finally you were able to see reason and to give yourselves over to what the Amazons’ had been campaigning for years: Dominance. The Littles are on the bottom diapered and swaddled in an Amazon’s care, being the weakest members of society and Amazons are on top because it was only the way it could be. The larger you were the more space you would inevitably take up but the Amazons had been pushed away and shoved in a corner for however many years all in the name of faux equality. But the Revamp had quickly fixed that, restoring the natural order to society where everyone has a definitive place and everyone is happy. You didn’t know until the Revamp that’s what you needed. A true Little doesn’t understand the feeling of freedom until on your backside with a nozzle up your bottom with your stomach being pumped full of warm soapy water by an Amazonian goddess. Relishing in the pain and discomfort, you accept the lack of responsibility, the lack of choice, and finally have a chance to let go of all the worries pent up inside which made you fully appreciate and value what a minuscule person you had become, even less than that. You have allowed the true rulers and natural leaders of this world to shine and rightly so and that was your doing - giving joy to another even if it meant giving up your own. It was the ultimate sacrifice. It is your final attempt at a selfless act to correct the selfishness you’d thrived in for however many years but your actions can never be forgotten. You can only move forward and do your part to contribute to the natural order of society by being less than you actually are, making yourself smaller in order to make the Amazon species bigger. You will accept your diapered life and permanent stench of baby powder and constant stink of your own mess while crawling on your hands and knees or awkwardly waddling always a step behind the much more intelligent beings. By sacrificing your own small and unimportant space, it allows for another taller and better person to take over. And that was the greatest pleasure of all time - well maybe second - that is after the worshiping and suckling of the Amazon’s milk filled tits and large domineering hands holding you down as you writhed in discomfort and humiliation. There was no greater shame than standing naked in front of an Amazon your age or younger as they bend you over and drag you around like a rag doll, thwacking your jiggling bottom and locking up your hairless neither regions that remind you that every semblance of adulthood, privacy, and dignity was just a foolish tale. That is when you're reminded of the evil, corrupted person you used to be when a tingle of excitement dances in a place that it should not be and only Mommy can decide when and if you will be satisfied because she is an adult. She is an Amazon. She is your everything, she is your world and the center of your universe. Without her, you would have been stuck in a monotonous nine to five job wasting your life away in this faux victim mentality while actively oppressing the true oppressed that are Amazons - your Mommy - the people who only want to care for you even after all the trauma your kind has caused, such selfish dwarfs you are. It’s so distressing you begin to cry until the warm familiar comfort of the soft and fluffy diaper is slipped between your legs and you're floating on a cloud in your mind and below. If it was not for her kind heart and generosity you would have been left waddling blind in the dark, leading a life only half - lived with dry undies and warm pillows but the Revamp made you see reason and Mommy saving you was just the cherry on top. “Aren’t you going to change them? They could get a diaper rash.” The stranger pointes down at you not out of concern but thinly veiled glee. You have forgotten your filthy state, sans clothing besides the completely brown and yellow stained padding that once was white and your bodily fluids have now crusted to your baby soft skin. “Oh, don’t worry about Y/N.” Mommy ruffles your hair. “Diaper rashes are a good reminder to help these troublesome Littles to remember their place. As you know if you give them an inch they will take a mile.” As Mommy spoke you could only giggle and squeal from behind your pacifier, suckling harshly to distract yourself from the stinging tears because somewhere deep in the recesses of your mind, a tiny voice screamed: This isn’t you! This isn’t right! You’re an adult! You have rights! They’ve brainwashed you! You want to listen to the voice but the Revamp is strict and its teachings are so firm in place that it keeps you captive in chokehold. Your eyes glaze over as another mushy warmth slides outside from inside you into your abused diaper and you know it’s the Revamp’s helping hand, a gentle nudge to remind you how far you have fallen.