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Hi guys! I finally got a Subscribestar. All of my stories are being uploaded there, plus a lot of new content, including in-progress content like Diapered Stepmother, The Regression Act, and Like Mother Like Daughter. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Taylor's Regression The crowd went silent. Taylor Lawrence, the mighty superstar who was a billionaire by the age of thirty-three, was standing right on stage, guitar on hand. Her hair and makeup were perfect, and so was her wardrobe, designed specifically to make her look sensual and young. And yet, no one cheered. All eyes were on her, yes. Taylor could see her fans’ expressions shifting from sheer excitement to shock. She knew why immediately as her own eyes turned to look down at the puddle forming around her feet and the familiar sensation of warm liquid pouring down her legs. Once again, and after everything she had done to avoid it, she had wet herself. This time, however, it wasn’t an isolated incident in the comfort of her home or the back of her limousine. No, the whole world could see it. All of her fans. Her manager was backstage. Her friends. Everyone. She heard steps approaching. Turning, she saw the person who had forced her into this situation, the person who had made her life hell since she had met her. Ally was on stage now, and her fans were cheering for her. No matter how embarrassed Taylor was, it was as if she were the past and Ally was now the future. “I’m sorry for this little accident,” said Ally to the crowd. She held Taylor’s hand gently, “But little Tay-tay here needs to go backstage. I’ll be right back.” “Ally! Ally! Ally!” The crowd sang as the younger pop star took Taylor backstage, leading her like a mother would a child who hadn’t made it to the potty. She thought for a second just how reassuring that would be for a small kid, having Mommy take care of their accidents. For Taylor, however, having a younger star on the rise leading her backstage because of her potty accident was the most embarrassing moment of her life. “It’s okay, Tay-Tay,” said Ally, in the most condescending tone possible, “We’ll get you clean soon.” Taylor said nothing. She just followed Ally, fighting back tears, trying to calm her breathing. Knowing that her life as she knew it was over, and knowing she had failed Ally’s test. It was diapers for her now; only God knows what else the younger signer had in store. Chapter One It was the most beautiful morning in L.A. Sunny, as always, with just the right temperature for an early swim. Taylor woke up to her alarm, ready to take on the world, but to her surprise—perhaps not that much of a surprise—she had wet the bed once more. “Not again,” she said to herself and her cat, Lou, who was resting lazily at the foot of the grand king-sized bed. “I need to get this under control before the tour,” she told her cat, who purred at her. As Taylor sat on the edge of her damp bed, a wave of humiliation washed over her, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself to face the day ahead, knowing that she had to put on a brave face despite the weight of her secret pressing down on her like a heavy anchor. She sighed. It wasn’t easy to keep it a secret. For almost a month now, she had had to stop dating or having sleepovers at her friends’ homes. If ever the media found out, it would be the end of her career. What teenage girl would idolize a thirty-something bedwetter, right? And without her fans’ complete devotion, Taylor wouldn’t last on her talent alone. “About the opening act,” said Nadia later that afternoon, “I have Ally booked.” Nadia was Taylor’s manager and best friend. Although she was only a few years younger than Taylor herself, her understanding of the industry was undeniable. Thanks to her, Taylor went from being a girly country singer to the biggest pop star in the world. “Ally. Ally. Haven’t heard of her.”She’s an up-and-coming musician. A bit young, but fits your target audience perfectly.” “How old exactly?” she asked.”Twenty-two.” “Are you sure it is wise? People might think she’s my replacement,” said Taylor jokingly, “Do you vouch for her?” Nadia nodded, her expression serious yet reassuring. Taylor ran a hand through her tousled hair, contemplating Nadia’s words. A mix of apprehension and curiosity danced in her eyes as she processed the idea of sharing the spotlight with a younger artist. But if she had any doubts about her, she didn’t need to wait long. That very afternoon, Nadia joined Taylor at a fancy restaurant with her new opening act. “It’s such an honor to meet you,” said Ally with a radiant smile. She was taller than Taylor had expected, not as tall as herself, but tall by music industry standards. There was ambition behind her blue eyes, and Taylor couldn’t ignore the pair of huge breasts trying to remain hidden inside her conservative clothing. She was the perfect bimbo in the body of a young woman, big breasts and butt with a tiny waist, and taller than average. Yet, there was something about her smile, something that made Taylor shiver for a second. “Likewise,” Taylor replied, offering Ally a warm smile as they shook hands. She couldn’t help but notice the vibrancy in Ally’s eyes, a stark contrast to the weariness that seemed to permanently reside on her own. As they sat down at the elegantly set table, Nadia explained her idea. Basically, she wanted Taylor and Ally to be together every day until the tour started. “But why?” asked Taylor, trying not to sound too displeased with the idea. “Well, Ally’s fans and your fans need to think you guys are friends. They'll see you hanging out together and preparing together, maybe she can stay with you this week. We can sell the tour like two friends going on the road together.” “That would be lovely,” said Ally so enthusiastically that Taylor didn’t know how to say no to it. “Deal!” said Nadia, “Let’s start right away.”Taylor smiled, but she couldn’t shake off a feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach like a heavy stone. An entire week living with a stranger and pretending to be friends wouldn’t be too bad if only she didn’t have a secret to hide. If only she were like any other adult woman and not doing something as childish as wetting the bed. “Right away?” Asked Taylor, feeling her gut cramping. “We can have a sleepover, watch movies, talk about boys, and have so much fun!” Said Ally. “Excellent,” Nadia said, paying the bill. “I’ll get everything ready for the tour while you guys get to know each other.” Taylor smiled, but she couldn’t shake off a feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach like a heavy stone. An entire week living with a stranger and pretending to be friends wouldn’t be too bad if only she didn’t have a secret to hide. If only she were like any other adult woman who could keep her pants dry at night. Back in her L.A. mansion, Taylor received Ally, who had brought a large suitcase and her guitar. “I was thinking,” said the younger singer, timidly, “Maybe we can write something together.” Taylor fought back a sigh. She did not wish to spend her nights working collaboratively on some second-hand project with a stranger, no matter how good I would look for her fans, “I would love to. But I’m a bit tired tonight. Maybe tomorrow?” “Sure!” said Ally, waiting impatiently, “Uhm, may I come in?” Taylor felt a flicker of annoyance as she looked back at Ally, who had already started wheeling her suitcase into the foyer. “Sure,” she said, stepping aside, “This way.”As they walked to the master bedroom, Taylor couldn’t help but notice how Ally’s gaze lingered on the opulent furnishings, the marble floors, and the grand entrance. ”She must be stunned by my wealth,” she thought cynically. After all, she was the only billionaire musician. Thanks to Nadia, she had an empire of albums, documentaries, and even movies, not to mention clothes and fragrances. Somehow, Ally’s expression of shock and envy made her feel better. “You can stay here,” said Taylor, showing Ally the smaller room in her house.” "Where do you sleep?” ”In the master bedroom, across the house.” “Can I see it?” Ally asked with sparkling eyes. “No.” “Please. I just wanna be able to say I’ve been in Taylor Lawrence’s room.” Taylor had to give it to her – Ally was good at pretending to be a do-gooder, even better than she was. Taylor sighed, “Whatever. Come here.” She could see excitement bubbling in Ally’s eyes, but something fake about it she couldn’t quite place her fingers on. They made their way to Taylor’s bedroom. It was as spacious as it was tall and chic with a walk-in closet filled with designer clothing, and a large bathroom with a huge bath. Lou, the cat, greeted them with a yawn as they entered. Ally’s eyes widened, taking in the luxurious furnishings with a gasp of admiration. And yet, it wasn’t the face of excitement Taylor had expected. No. Ally made a funny face as if smelling something horrid. “Yikes!” Ally exclaimed, “You should consider leaving a window open. It smells terrible here.” Taylor blushed, and then it hit her. She had become so used to it, but the smell of ammonia impregnated her mattress and made the entire place smell more like a nursery than an adult woman’s bedroom. “Yeah, sorry. Mold problems.” “I’ve never smelled mold like that before. It smells more musky, like pee. Maybe the cat? Does he have a cat litter box in here? That’s not very smart.” “Yes. Lou, right. That must be it,” said Taylor, doing her best to return her color to the usual pale white instead of the crimson red of embarrassment. “Anyway, like I said. I’m tired. So I’ll see you in the morning.” Ally smiled and said her goodbyes. It was just Taylor, Lou, and her pee-smelling room now. She put her pajamas on, remembering to go to the bathroom before bed, and kissed Lou goodnight. She closed her eyes, hoping she could keep her bed dry for the week, even better, for the entirety of the tour. The next morning, Taylor woke up when Lou decided to rest on her chest. His weight had increased lately, so she had to move him away as fast as possible. It wasn’t a minute after she had awakened when she noticed the cold and wet sensation around her crotch and legs. She had peed the bed again, and that wasn’t even the worst part. Right in front of her, with eyes full of something evil, Ally stood with the sexiest of smirks. “Well, well, well. So the mighty Taylor Lawrence is nothing more than a bedwetter.” Taylor gulped. Chapter Two There was a short moment of silence before Taylor’s shock passed and she began crying, “What are you doing in my room. Leave!” She sounded more like a toddler throwing a tantrum than an adult woman on the cusp of her career. But then she noticed a sudden shift in Ally’s expression, "It’s okay. It’s okay,” said the younger musician, trying to sound reassuring, “I was just joking. My little sister wet the bed until she was seven. I know how to deal with this kind of stuff.” Ally spoke so calmly and naturally that she managed to eclipse Taylor's anxiety at least for a moment. “It could happen to anyone.” Taylor’s eyes flitted nervously between Ally and the soaked sheets, feeling raw, exposed, and, above all, ashamed. “You won’t tell anyone?” she stammered. “Of course not. I can help you clean it up,” Ally offered, but Taylor held up a hand to stop her. “You don’t have to do that. I can handle it myself,” she said, her voice a trembling pitch, betraying her anxiety. Ally nodded, backing off slowly. “Don’t stress. I’m your guest, after all. And you’re giving me such an opportunity. Please, allow me to return the favor. Go take a shower, and I’ll deal with this.” Taylor took a moment to collect herself, and then she nodded. She waited until she heard the door click shut before she started peeling back the wet sheets, trying her best to block out any thoughts of her humiliating accident. Her stomach knotted at the mere idea of Ally’s prying eyes witnessing her bed-wetting shame. But somehow, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her back. Someone now knew about her problem, and she wasn’t shamed or bullied because of it. If anything, Ally seemed to be very understanding about the situation. Maybe she had misjudged her. After a long, hot shower, Taylor stepped back into her room. Ally had taken care of her mess. Her bed was made, and the hideous stink of her urine was gone. Instead, it kind of smelled like baby powder and roses—a weird combination, but a welcoming one when the alternative was ammonia and sweat. Taylor was afraid the younger pop star would ridicule her about her nighttime issues, but the rest of the day, Ally mentioned none of it—not even to Nadia, who had passed by the mansion to check on them. “Everything’s ready for the grand tour, and guess what? We’re sold out!” Ally jumped excitedly, but Taylor could only pretend she was happy about it. Keeping her bedwetting at home was already hard, but on a tour? She could refuse to sleep in hotels and fly back home after every concert. But she was already under a lot of scrutiny because of how much she used her private jet the last time she toured. It would be practically committing career suicide to pull that again. The night before the tour began, Taylor found herself in her room. “I just can’t do it,” Taylor said to her fat cat. What if the media finds out? What if Ally tells anyone?” “I won’t.” Taylor froze. Ally stood at the door, her eyes fixated on Taylor. Her gaze was intense, slightly intimidating, but also curious. Taylor could feel her heart racing; she wanted to hide. “What are you doing in my room?” “Well, it’s getting late. And I wondered if you’d like to discuss your issue.” Taylor blushed, “My issue?” “Bedwetting is normal. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, but you should do something to minimize the damage.” “I’ve tried everything. The doctor assured me that it is just stress, but it’s not like I can simply stop making music. It’s my life. And I love touring.” There was a long pause as they both stood there, neither one saying a word. “Did the doctor suggest anything to help?” He had suggested something, but the thought of it made Taylor feel sick. The word ‘diaper’ was tossed around multiple times, and Taylor had even gone as far as buying a package. But she had never worn them. Mainly because she didn’t want to. However, there was another reason. She simply didn’t know how to put them on. She had never really interacted with babies before. Hell, she had never held one in her life, she wouldn’t even know where to start. But she knew she had to do something about her bedwetting issue. “My older sister used to have the same problem,” said Ally, reading Taylor’s mind. “When I was fourteen, I helped my mom get Emily ready to sleep. She was already eighteen, but she had to wear diapers at night. All I’m saying is that it could help, and if you need me, I can help you.” Taylor felt a rush of heat flooding her face. “What? You want to help me put on a diaper?” she asked, incredulous. Ally just shrugged, a mischievous curve playing on her lips. “I mean, I don’t mind. I’ve changed diapers before and know how embarrassing this must be for you. This way, you won’t have to worry about wetting your bed again. And maybe, just maybe, you can relax enough to fix the problem.” Taylor swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “Tell you what,” said Ally, sitting next to Taylor as if she were the older of the two. Think about it. When we are on tour, you can come to me before bed, and we’ll do it together.” Her voice was filled with so much motherly love that Taylor couldn’t help but feel safe. And yet, there was something else behind Ally’s eyes—something Taylor couldn’t quite understand, but it was dark. The tour began with a blast. Everyone cheered for Ally when she went on stage, but Taylor’s appearance truly made the stadium shake. If the bedwetting had been a strike to her ego, the applause, cheers, and cries were enough to get her going. It had been such a fun experience that Taylor had forgotten about her nighttime issue. She got to meet some fans. There was even one or two hot guys checking her out the entire night. In the past, she would’ve allowed her to do something stupid like inviting one of them back to her hotel room. But with her bedwetting, she had been forced to stop. “It was incredible, girls!” said Nadia as they stepped outside the stage and into the limo. “Such a rush of adrenaline,” Ally said, grinning from ear to ear, “Now I know why you tour so much.” Taylor was excited. All that energy, all that love from her fans. But hours on stage had left her thirsty and hungry, and her body was craving food and a cold drink. So when Nadia suggested a few cocktails and the biggest burger possible, she jumped onto the idea. Soon enough, they were inside the hotel’s restaurant, eating and chatting about the concert and how everything seemed to have gone perfectly. Sold-out, merchandised, selling like cake, and Taylor is just getting better at it. They toasted to the tour and kept drinking. But that was Taylor’s mistake. After a few shots, she was so drunk that Ally had to take her back to her room. Still wearing her concert outfit, she passed out on her bed. The last thing she saw before falling into a deep sleep was Ally sitting next to her, staring at her with a strange smile on her face. Taylor’s mind buzzed softly before she drifted away, and in her subconscious, she thought she heard Ally whisper, “Good girl.” Taylor woke up the next morning feeling like shit. She had a pounding headache, her mouth was dry, and her stomach was rumbling with hunger. Memories of the night before came rushing back to her, and with them, a cold shiver of shame and disgust. She had wet the bed again. Her head throbbed, and the smell of her own urine assaulted her senses. She groaned, embarrassed, as she sat up in bed. Ally was sitting next to her, clean and aware as if all the drinking had had no effect on her. A satisfied smile lingered on her lips. Taylor stared at her, puzzled for a moment, before she remembered the events of the night before. Ally had taken her back to her room after their night out, ensuring she made it safely to bed. “I think I…” Taylor tried to say, but Ally interrupted her. “You’re wet again.” Taylor blushed. “I didn’t mean to,” she muttered, feeling like a child. “I know,” Ally said softly, her voice filled with understanding. “But you can’t keep ignoring this. It’s not working.” “I know,” Taylor said again, feeling embarrassed. “But I truly don’t want to wear diapers like a baby. I’m supposed to be an icon of feminism. I’m supposed to be sexy and mature.” “We can make it so that no one ever finds out. I’ll help you.” “Why?” Taylor asked, curious. “You remind me of my older sister. She also had a hard time accepting she needed help. And I love her, and if I can help you, it’s as if I were helping her all over again,” said Ally, leaving Taylor speechless, “Every night. After the concert, I will go to your room, and we will get you ready. Don’t worry about supplies or anything. I’ll handle it. If you make it a week without accidents, you can return to wearing your big girl panties. What do you say?” Ally asked, her voice soft and coaxing. Taylor hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts and doubts. She knew that accepting Ally’s help would mean admitting defeat, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny the relief she felt at the thought of not having to deal with her bedwetting problem alone. “Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. Ally smiled triumphantly and stood up from the bed. “Good girl,” she said, patting Taylor on the head like a child, “Now let’s go clean yourself. I’ll deal with this mess.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi guys, here's one of my latest stories. You can read it now on Amazon Kindle Wife's New Boyfriend Is My New Daddy: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DSR2VKVB or check my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5 Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ