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  1. Chapter 1: This is a joke, right? Lisa was wandering around her house frantically, getting ready to leave for work. She couldn't find half of what she needed and was about to miss her bus. Finally finding the all-important house keys, she ran out the door, locking it behind her. She sighed in relief and ran down her driveway to find a small package by her mailbox. "That's odd," Lisa thought, "I haven't ordered anything recently." She deposited the package in her purse and hurried to the bus stop just in time to catch the 12, the only bus that stopped near her work. Once taking her seat on the near-empty bus, she pulled out the box and examined it. Only her address was written on it, so she had no way of knowing where it came from or if it was meant for her. She ripped off the tape to be welcomed by bubble wrap. "This is adorable!" Lisa thought as she unwrapped the rest of the package, she saw a cute bracelet with green marble-like rocks. After putting on the bracelet, Lisa spotted a note in the box. Unfolding it, she began to read it. "To whoever receives this bracelet, I am sorry, I just couldn't take it anymore. This thing has ruined my life. I don't know where it came from but received it one day. After a few days of wearing it, I discovered this thing can grant wishes when you say "I wish.." THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING! I swear it's like a monkey's paw. You won't notice it at first, but if you aren't careful, it'll ruin you over time. You can't take back a wish once it's been made. If you are smart, you won't use it! Good luck and good riddance. Please be smart." Lisa laughed; this had to be a joke, right? The bus screeched to a stop, reminding her why she had been on the bus in the first place. Luckily for her, her workplace was only 2 stops away, so it took no time on the bus, but walking would take forever. She climbed off, thanked the bus driver, and went to the small office building in front of her. It was 5 stories high, which was small compared to the skyscrapers in the nearby area. Unfortunately for Lisa, she works on the fifth floor where an advertising company is located. So when the elevator is down, which happens often, an annoying journey up the stairs is required. Not fun in heels. "Please let them be working, please let them be working, please!" She spoke to herself as she turned the corner to where the elevators were. "Closed due to Maintenance" hung on the doors. "Danmit! I wish the elevator would just work." Suddenly, the door behind her opened as the elevator repair man walked out. "Then you got good timing. I just finished up," He told her. "Wait, are you serious? You have it working again?" Lisa's voice carried a mix of disbelief and relief. The repairman nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, just finished up. Good timing on your part." A surge of gratitude washed over Lisa. "Wow, talk about luck. Thank you so much!" "Not a problem," he said, stepping aside to let her enter the elevator. "What floor are you headed to?" "The 5th," Lisa replied, stepping in and pressing the button. "Ah, perfect. You're all set then," he remarked, moving to remove the maintenance sign. Lisa couldn't help but grin. "You've just saved me from a trek up a gazillion stairs in these heels. You're a lifesaver." The repairman chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Glad I could be of service. Have a good one!" "You too! Thanks again," Lisa called as the doors slid shut, leaving her alone in the now-functioning elevator. Once on the 5th floor, Lisa rushed over to her desk; she was late enough as it was and didn't want to run into her manager or stop to chit-chat with a coworker and get busted. Setting her things down and taking her seat, Lisa sighed in relief. "Few, finally made it, and now what do I have going on today? Looks like I have a meeting in an hour in conference room 501." *Gurgle* "Shoot, I didn't have enough time to get breakfast. I wish I had something to eat this morning; otherwise, this will be a long day." *knock* *knocK* "Hey, Lisa. Do you have a minute?" Looking up from her Computer, Lisa saw her coworker Sarah. "Hey, Sarah! what's up?" "I noticed you were running a little behind today, and you look like you could use a pick me up. I have an extra breakfast burrito I made this morning. Would you like it? If you heat it up for like 30 seconds in the microwave, it comes out amazing!" "Oh my god, you are a lifesaver, Sarah! Thank you so much. I had a hectic night last night; I'll tell you more about it at lunch." "Rain check, I'm heading out early today; I've got a doctor's appointment I need to go to, maybe Monday after the weekend unless you want to meet sooner?" "I'll get back to you. I got to unbury myself; there's a ton of things I need to catch up on." Sarah's breakfast burrito was amazing and definitely hit the spot. Now being able to focus, Lisa spent her time before her meeting catching up on emails and direct messages and preparing for the meeting. The prep work paid off while in the meeting as she provided solid updates on the status of their latest project, but before returning to work, she had to stop by the bathroom for a pee break. Only to see that three other ladies were waiting for a stall to open up. "Can you believe how long these lines get during peak hours?" Lisa chuckled nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, tell me about it," replied Sarah, her voice sympathetic. "I swear, I practically live in this line some days." A middle-aged woman in line with them nodded in agreement. "You'd think they'd install more stalls or something with how crowded it gets." Lisa chuckled, feeling discomfort as another wave of urgency hit her. "Yeah, that would be nice. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so often." Sarah chuckled. "Yeah, it's just one of those things we women have to deal with, right?" Lisa nodded, trying to ignore the increasing pressure in her bladder. "Yeah, I suppose so." As they continued to wait, Lisa's discomfort grew. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract herself from the urge to pee. But the pressure was becoming unbearable. "Come on, come on," Lisa muttered, hoping desperately for a stall to open up soon. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the stalls became available. Lisa practically dashed inside, grateful for the relief it offered. The discomfort from her full bladder now a distant memory. She resumes her work with renewed focus, navigating the rest of the day's tasks without significant hiccups. As evening approached, Lisa gathered her belongings, ready to return home on the bus during the peak transit hours. She joined the bustling crowd at the bus stop, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of dinner and relaxation after a long day at work. The bus arrived, and she could already see from the outside that it was pretty full. Upon getting inside, she saw her suspicion was correct: no seats left, and she'd have to stand. As Lisa stood in the crowded bus, she felt a sudden, urgent need to pee. Panic surged as she glanced down at her new pair of pants, desperately not wanting to ruin them. The pressure in her bladder was unbearable, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. Without thinking, she frantically whispered, "I wish I had some way to protect my pants." Instantly, she felt a strange sensation over her, followed by a wave of relief as she felt herself peeing. But to her shock, her pants remained completely dry. At the same time, her crotch started to feel warm. Lisa's eyes widened in disbelief as she was peeing herself. She glanced around nervously, hoping no one had noticed her moment of weakness. But as she looked at her fellow passengers, she saw that they were all engrossed in their conversations or staring blankly out the window, oblivious to her predicament. Feeling both relieved and bewildered, Lisa cautiously reached down to touch her pants, half-expecting to find them soaked despite the lack of any wet sensation. But to her amazement, they were completely dry, as if nothing had happened. However, she noticed that her underwear seemed like they swelled up, absorbing the pee, as she could still feel the warmth, and even a bit of weight was now weighing them down. "What the heck is protecting my pants?" Chapter 2: Is that a Pullup? As the bus rumbled along its route, Lisa's mind raced with confusion and disbelief. She glanced around, hoping no one would notice that she just peed herself. "What just happened?" she whispered, her heart pounding with embarrassment and bewilderment. She tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath, chalking it up to a bizarre fluke. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, or she was just overly stressed from the long day at work. But even as she tried to rationalize the inexplicable event, a nagging sense of unease lingered in the back of her mind. There was something undeniably strange about the way her pants remained dry despite it feeling like her bladder released its contents. Lost in her thoughts, Lisa almost missed her stop. With a jolt of realization, she made her way to the front of the bus, eager to escape the uncomfortable confines of the crowded vehicle. Stepping off the bus onto the sidewalk, Lisa took a moment to gather her thoughts. She knew she couldn't dwell on the strange occurrence forever; she had to focus on getting home and putting the bizarre incident behind her. As she walked the short distance to her apartment building, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of the swollen underwear between her legs, making her worry that her peeing wasn't just in her head. Entering her apartment, Lisa tossed her purse onto her beanbag chair in her bedroom. The box and note were still in it, slightly spilling out of her bag as it landed. Feeling utterly drained both physically and emotionally, Lisa moved to her couch out in the living room and collapsed onto it. She needed time to process everything that had happened but knew she couldn't afford to dwell on it indefinitely. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and went to the kitchen, her stomach grumbling in protest. Dinner seemed like a distant afterthought, but she knew she needed to eat something to replenish her energy after the long day. As she rummaged through the fridge, her eyes fell on a box of leftover pizza from the night before. With a shrug, she grabbed the container and popped a few slices into the microwave. As she waited for her meal to heat up, her thoughts drifted back to the strange bracelet on her wrist. It was adorable, but where did it come from? Was it okay to keep it? What was up with that weird note? *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* The microwave sounded, breaking her train of thought and bringing her back to her dinner. As Lisa sat down to eat her dinner, she couldn't shake the unease that had settled over her since the bizarre incident on the bus. The pizza tasted bland, the flavors muted by her racing thoughts. She kept glancing down at the bracelet on her wrist, its intricate design catching the light from the overhead lamp. With a heavy sigh, Lisa took her last bite, her appetite gone from the bland flavor. She felt she should address the weird feeling from on the bus but wasn't sure where to start; it was all too weird. The logical part of her brain screamed that it was all just in her head, a series of strange events with rational explanations. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that something more was at play. After staring blankly at the wall for a few minutes, Lisa pushed herself up from the table and went to the bathroom to shower. The shower's hot water sounded inviting, a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her mind. As she undressed, she couldn't help but glance down at her underwear. To her horror and confusion, she saw that her panties had been replaced by what looked like a girls' pull-up diaper. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver down her spine. "What the...?" Lisa muttered, her hands trembling as she touched the strange garment. It was soft to the touch. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Confused, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the image of a grown woman wearing a diaper staring back at her. As Lisa stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection in disbelief, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a bizarre hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion. "This can't be real," she muttered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Shaking her head, she quickly stripped off the pull-up diaper, tossing it into the trash bin with disgust and disbelief. "I must be losing my mind," she whispered, her hands still trembling as she turned on the shower, desperate to wash away the day's strange events. The hot water cascaded over her body, providing some much-needed comfort and clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. As she scrubbed away the tension and confusion, she tried to push aside the nagging feeling that the diaper was real. Once she had finished her shower, Lisa wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, determined to put the bizarre events behind her and get some much-needed rest. With each step, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a figment of her imagination, resulting from an overactive mind and a stressful day at work. She moved to her bedroom, where she retrieved a fresh pair of panties from her dresser drawer, determined to put the day's strange events behind her. Slipping into the comfortable cotton panties, Lisa couldn't shake the memory of the pull-up diaper she had found herself wearing earlier. It was all too surreal, too bizarre to be real. Yet, the soft fabric of the panties against her skin offered some semblance of normalcy, grounding her in the present moment. Oddly, they didn't feel like the pull-up she thought she saw herself wearing. Could it have really been a pull-up diaper? With a sigh, Lisa grabbed a cozy pair of pajamas from her closet, eager to relax and unwind after the tumultuous day she had endured. As she slipped into the soft fabric, she felt a slight sense of relief wash over her, the warmth of the pajamas soothing her frayed nerves. Tired from the day's events, Lisa opted to go to sleep and crawled into bed. She usually would stay up to watch some TV or read a good book, but with the stresses from work, the date she had last night, and the weirdness she experienced today, she figured getting sleep was the better option for tonight. Chapter 3: That was a Weird Dream On Saturday morning, Lisa awoke to the sunlight seeping through the curtains. She groaned softly as she stretched her limbs, feeling the warmth of the morning sun. She enjoyed the blissful ignorance of sleep for a moment, her mind still shielded from the previous day's events. But as she shifted in bed, her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the strange occurrences that had unfolded—a bizarre package, a mysterious bracelet, and the unsettling discovery of the pull-up she was wearing. "Must've been a weird dream," she mumbled to herself, her voice thick with sleep as she attempted to dismiss the surreal memories that lingered in the recesses of her mind. "There's no way any of that was real." Despite her attempts to convince herself of the absurdity of it all, a lingering sense of unease persisted within her consciousness. There was something undeniably tangible about the memories, a lingering presence that refused to be dismissed as mere figments of her imagination. Pushing aside her lingering doubts, Lisa swung her legs over the edge of the bed, preparing to face the day ahead. As she stretched, a sudden, intense pressure in her bladder jolted her from her thoughts, causing her to freeze mid-motion. "Uh-oh," she muttered under her breath, her heart sinking as the urgency of her need to pee washed over her. It was an overwhelming sensation, demanding her immediate attention and threatening to ruin her day before it started. Lisa scrambled out of bed, her movements quick and frantic as she stumbled towards the bathroom. The painful discomfort with each step reminded her of the urgency to relieve herself. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her sense of urgency intensified, each step feeling heavier as if trudging through mud. The pressure in her bladder seemed to swell with each passing second, a relentless reminder of her body's urgent demand. Finally reaching the bathroom, Lisa's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, her heart pounding. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her eyes darting to the familiar sight of the toilet. But before she could register her next move, a sudden wave of warmth flooded her. Panic seized her as she realized what was happening, her hands fumbling with the waistband of her pajama pants in a frantic attempt to undo them. But a strange sensation overcame her before she could even step closer to the toilet. A soft rustling sound filled the air, accompanied by a strange sensation against her skin. Lisa's eyes widened in shock as she looked down, expecting to see her pants darkening with the telltale signs of her accident. But to her bewilderment, her pants remained dry, untouched by the inevitable release of her bladder. Instead, a faint crinkling sound reached her ears, followed by the sensation of something expanding against her skin. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Lisa realized what was happening. Her heart raced as she looked down, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before her. A pull-up diaper, once again, was in the place of her panties, soaked with the evidence of her accident. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the surreal scene before her, unable to comprehend how such a thing could happen. This still had to be a dream, right? There's no way this would be possible. But it felt real. There she was, seeing herself in the mirror again, in a soaked pull-up diaper for little girls. Looking around, she could tell she was still in her apartment; things weren't different, and then it caught her eye. Her purse was sitting on the beanbag chair in her room, with a small box and a note sticking out. The reality of the situation sank in, and a sense of dread washed over her. This was no dream, no figment of her imagination. It was all too real; Lisa quickly slid back up her pants and ran over to the note to reread it and see if she missed any information. Lisa frantically sifted through the box's contents, her hands trembling with anxiety and disbelief. She felt frustration wash over her. The absence of clues regarding the mysterious bracelet's origin only increased her bewilderment. She scanned the note again, her eyes darting over the hastily scrawled words in search of any hidden meaning or clue that might shed light on her predicament. But the message remained cryptic, offering no further insight into the true nature of the bracelet or its origins. A sense of helplessness washed over Lisa as she realized nothing could explain what was happening. She then attempted to remove the bracelet from her wrist, but her efforts proved futile, the band clinging stubbornly to her skin as if fused in place by some unseen force. Panic surged through her veins as she tugged at the bracelet with increasing desperation, her mind racing with a million unanswered questions. Suddenly, her phone started to ring, breaking her thoughts and frustration at the bracelet. She fumbled for her phone, her heart pounding with fear and apprehension. The caller ID revealed Sarah's name. With a shaky breath, she answered the call, her voice a little cracked from her worries and just recently waking up. "Hello?" she ventured tentatively, followed by her clearing her throat as she realized how raspy she first sounded. "Hey, Lisa, are you okay?" Sarah's voice sounded concerned, her words tinged with worry as she sensed the tension in Lisa's voice. Lisa hesitated momentarily, grappling with the overwhelming urge to confide in Sarah, to unburden herself of the weight of her newfound reality. But the fear of sounding insane, of being dismissed as delusional, held her back. "I... I'm fine," she replied hesitantly, her words tinged with uncertainty as she struggled to mask the turmoil within her. "Just... woke up a minute ago. What's up?" "I just wanted to check in on you," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. "You seemed a little off yesterday, and I wanted to ensure everything's okay. Maybe meet up for coffee and talk about Thursday night?" "Oh, that's right! I didn't get to tell you yet, did I?" she replied, her voice becoming energized with the distraction and the prospect of sharing the spicy details of her date on Thursday. "That sounds great," Lisa said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the lingering unease gnawing at her. "Coffee sounds like just what I need right now." Sarah's relieved sigh was audible through the phone. "I'm glad to hear that. How about we meet up at Brew Haven around noon? That should give us plenty of time to catch up." "Sounds perfect," Lisa replied, her voice steadier now as she focused on the prospect of spending time with her friend. "I'll see you there." Lisa's mind raced with a million conflicting thoughts and emotions as they confirmed the details. On one hand, she was grateful for the distraction and the chance to talk with Sarah about her recent date. But on the other hand, she couldn't imagine having another accident while hanging out with her friend. Chapter 4: New Panties Please As Lisa stood in the bathroom stall, her mind reeling from the surreal experience, she couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary was happening. The evidence was right in front of her—the pull-up diaper now snugly wrapped around her hips, soaked with her latest accident. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to touch the smooth fabric of the pull-up, her fingers tracing the contours of the unfamiliar material. It was a surreal sensation, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. "I... I can't believe this is happening," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to face the bizarre turn of events. "This... this can't be real." But as she looked down at the pull-up, its soft padding offering a strange comfort in her confusion, Lisa knew she could no longer deny the truth. Something extraordinary was at play. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't afford to dwell on the surreal nature of her situation, not when there were other people waiting outside for the stall. Gathering her courage, Lisa quickly checked her pants for any signs of the pull-up underneath. To her relief, there was no telltale bulge or outline that would give away her secret. It was as if the pull-up had seamlessly blended into her clothing, leaving no trace of its presence. With a silent prayer of gratitude, Lisa straightened her posture and composed herself before finally flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion and unlocking the stall door. Stepping out into the bathroom, she offered a quick apology to the other ladies waiting outside, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her earlier rudeness. "Sorry about that," she muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she met their gaze with a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to cut in front of you like that." The other women offered polite nods in response, their expressions a mixture of annoyance and understanding. "No worries, honey," one of them said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "We've all been there before." With a sense of relief, Lisa hurriedly washed her hands, eager to put some distance between herself and the awkward encounter. As she exited the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with questions, her thoughts consumed by the inexplicable magic that seemed to be at play. How was it possible that her panties had transformed into a pull-up, seemingly of their own accord? And what did it mean for her future if such bizarre occurrences continued to unfold? As she walked, Lisa couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation of the wet pull-up against her skin, a constant reminder of her life's surreal turn. Feeling increasingly frustrated and disgusted by the situation, Lisa couldn't help but resent the childish garment clinging to her hips. It was a humiliating symbol of the inexplicable magic that seemed to have taken hold of her life. With a deepening scowl, Lisa finally reached her desk and sank into her chair, the wet pull-up squelching beneath her with an unpleasant squish. Grimacing, she shifted uncomfortably, trying in vain to find a position that would alleviate the discomfort. But as she fidgeted in her seat, her mind raced with a single thought: she needed to figure out what was causing these bizarre occurrences. With its cryptic note and mysterious powers, the bracelet seemed to be the only explanation. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to her wrist, fingers fumbling over the smooth surface of the bracelet. She tried to slide it off, but it refused to budge as if fused to her skin. Panic rising within her, she attempted to cut it off with scissors from her desk drawer, but the metal remained unscathed as if mocking her futile efforts. Frustration boiled within her, mingling with a sense of helplessness. She was trapped, bound to this cursed bracelet with no means of escape. Each wish only seemed to entangle her further in its magic web, leaving her more powerless than ever. Desperate for answers, Lisa began to make wish after wish, each more fervent than the last. She wished for the bracelet to be removed, for knowledge about its origins, for it to disappear entirely, for it to stop meddling with her life. But with each wish, nothing changed. The bracelet remained firmly in place, keeping her captive until satisfied. Defeated, Lisa slumped back in her chair, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her with the magnitude of the situation she found herself in. How had a simple bracelet turned her life upside down in such a short amount of time? As she leaned back, on the edge of tears, "I wish I at least had a new pair of panties," she muttered under her breath, more as a desperate plea than a genuine belief in its fulfillment. With tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Lisa's whispered wish hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of her desperation for a reprieve from the chaos. As Lisa attempted to gather her composure and focus on her work, she reached into her purse for her earbuds, hoping that immersing herself in music would offer a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her. With trembling fingers, she fumbled through her bag until her fingertips brushed against something unexpected. Pulling out her hand, Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the object now nestled in her palm—a pristine pair of panties, neatly folded and seemingly untouched by the events of the day. She blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend how they had appeared in her purse as if materializing out of thin air. For a moment, Lisa questioned her sanity, her mind reeling from the inexplicable sight before her. But as she reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers tracing the delicate lace trim, she couldn't deny the reality of the situation. Somehow, her wish had been granted again, this time in a manner that defied all logic and reason. As Lisa looked around the bustling office, her heart pounding with apprehension, she couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that someone must have seen her moment of desperation, running to the bathroom. Thinking she might have leaked and needed a new pair. But as she scanned the room, her gaze darting from one face to another, she found no trace of recognition or curiosity in the eyes of her coworkers; hell, no one was even glancing her way. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisa focused on getting changed and cleaned up. Grabbing her purse, she stood up and headed towards the bathroom, knowing she needed a way to conceal the pull-up for safe disposal. She is glad to at least have a change of underwear, her mind racing with a million questions and fears. What if they think she can't control her bladder? What if she couldn't? The thought made her skin crawl with unease, a cold shiver running down her spine as she pushed open the door to the restroom. Inside, the familiar hum of running water and whispered conversations greeted her, a comforting backdrop to the chaos swirling within her mind. With practiced ease, Lisa made her way to the nearest stall; thankfully, the line had subsided, her movements brisk and efficient as she locked the door behind her and quickly shed her soiled garment. A sense of relief washed over her as she peeled off the wet pull-up. A chill ran up her body as the cool air of the restroom offered a welcome reprieve from the suffocating discomfort of the past hour. With trembling hands, Lisa hastily donned the fresh pair of panties, her fingers fumbling with the delicate lace trim as she struggled to compose herself. But as she finished dressing and prepared to leave the stall, a sudden wave of panic washed over her, the fear of discovery gripping her heart with icy fingers. What if someone saw her leaving the stall with the pull-up in her purse? The thought made her stomach churn with dread, her mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa closed her purse after burying the pull-up as far down as she could. With a determined stride, she unlocked the stall door and stepped out into the restroom, her gaze sweeping the room for any sign of prying eyes. To her relief, the restroom was empty, the only sound the distant chatter from the hallway outside. With a sigh of relief, Lisa made her way to the nearest trash bin, her movements quick as she dug out the pull-up and disposed of it. But as she left the restroom, her heart skipped a beat as she collided with a familiar figure standing right outside, her eyes widening in surprise as she found herself face to face with Sarah. "Hey, Lisa!" Sarah exclaimed, her tone bright and cheerful as she offered her friend a warm smile. "Fancy running into you here. Everything okay?" For a moment, Lisa felt a surge of panic coursing through her veins, the fear of discovery threatening to overwhelm her. But with a forced smile and a casual shrug, she brushed off Sarah's concern with practiced ease, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Yeah, everything's fine," Lisa replied, her tone light and nonchalant as she sidestepped Sarah's probing gaze. "Just needed a quick break, you know how it is." Sarah nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic as she reached out to squeeze Lisa's shoulder in a gesture of support. "Of course, I get it," she said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "Well, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. I'm always here for you." "Thanks," Lisa said, her voice tinged with warmth as she met her friend's gaze. "I really appreciate it. There's been a lot going on lately that I'm honestly still working through. I could use a coffee date if you're up for it tomorrow?" "Absolutely! Text me over the details later; I'm open all day." With a final nod of gratitude, Lisa turned and headed back to her desk, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had unfolded throughout the day. As she settled into her chair, she couldn't shake the lingering sense of impossibility. Glancing at the clock, Lisa realized she still had a few hours left in the workday. With a determined sigh, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside her worries and distractions as she delved into her work with renewed determination. As the hours ticked by and the end of the workday drew near, Lisa's curiosity got the better of her. With a hesitant glance around the office to ensure no one was watching, she reached down to her wrist and touched the smooth surface of the bracelet, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns with a sense of trepidation. Summoning her courage, Lisa closed her eyes and made a wish, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke the words that would set the wheels of fate in motion. "I wish I didn't have to ride the bus," she murmured, her heart pounding as she awaited the inevitable response. To her surprise, the answer came swiftly and unexpectedly as a ringing phone. Startled, Lisa reached for her cell phone, her pulse quickening with anticipation as she answered the call. "Hello?" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she held the phone to her ear. "Hey, sweetie, it's Mom," came the familiar voice on the other end of the line, warm and reassuring. "I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing." Disappointment flooded through Lisa at the sound of her mother's voice. It was great to hear from her, but she was hoping for a call about winning a car or something. Either way, her mom's call was a comforting reminder of the love and support that surrounded her. With a grateful smile, she leaned back in her chair, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she settled into the conversation with her mom. As they spoke, Lisa's mother mentioned that she was in the area and offered to give Lisa a ride home from work, sparing her the usual ordeal of navigating the crowded bus and rush-hour traffic. Grateful for the unexpected gesture, Lisa readily accepted, her heart swelling with gratitude for her mother's kindness. As she hung up the phone, she couldn't help but wonder, did her wish come true? At least she didn't have to ride the bus today, but was it just a coincidence? Meeting her mom in the office lobby, Lisa couldn't help but notice the weary lines that creased her mother's face, the sadness that lingered in her eyes. Sensing that something was amiss, Lisa hesitated momentarily before approaching the subject with her mother, her voice hesitant as she spoke. "Mom, is everything okay?" she asked, her tone filled with concern as she searched her mother's face for any sign of distress. Her mother hesitated momentarily, her gaze drifting away as if lost in thought. But then, with a heavy sigh, she finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness and resignation, as her eyes began to tear up. "No, sweetheart, everything's not okay," she admitted, her words weighted with emotion. "Your father and I... we're having some problems. I... I left him this morning. Nothing's final, but I'm frustrated." Lisa's heart sank at her mother's words, a wave of sadness washing over her as she realized the depth of her parents' troubles. She reached out to her mother, offering a comforting hug as tears welled up in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mom," Lisa whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I had no idea things had gotten this bad. You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to, but know that I'm here for you, no matter what." Her mother returned the embrace, holding onto Lisa seeking solace in her daughter's arms. "Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice muffled against Lisa's shoulder. "I just need some time to figure things out. But it means the world to me to know that you're here for me." As Lisa and her mom walked out of the office building towards her mom's car, Lisa couldn't help but notice the trunk of her car was packed full of her belongings. Concern etched lines on Lisa's forehead as she glanced at her mom. "Mom, where are you staying?" Lisa asked gently, her voice filled with worry. Her mother sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and uncertainty clouding her expression. "I... I don't know yet," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "I just needed to get away for a while, figure things out." Lisa's heart ached for her mother, the weight of their shared troubles pressing down on her shoulders. Without hesitation, she squeezed her mom's hand, offering a silent gesture of support. "You can stay with me," Lisa blurted out before she could second-guess herself. "I mean, if you want to. My apartment isn't big, but we'll make it work." Tears welled up in her mother's eyes, gratitude shining bright amidst the uncertainty. "Oh, sweetheart, thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you." As they reached Lisa's car, her mother hesitated before turning to her with a hopeful smile. "And if you ever need a ride somewhere, just let me know. I'll be there for you." As Lisa's mom's words hung in the air, Lisa felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with a sudden, chilling realization. Could it be possible that her wish had inadvertently affected her mother's behavior? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, the weight of guilt settling heavily upon her shoulders. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Lisa replayed the events of the last two days in her mind, searching for any connection between her wishes and the events that had unfolded. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore—the timing, the circumstances, everything seemed to point to her. As her mother climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, Lisa's thoughts whirled with uncertainty and fear. What had she done? What if her wishes continued to impact the lives of those around her, causing unintended consequences and chaos? Chapter 5: Motherly Advice As Lisa and her mom drove back to Lisa's apartment, the silence between them was intense, the air thick to the point where you could cut it with a butter knife if you wanted to. Unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingering in the air. Lisa stared out the window, lost in thought, her mind still reeling from the realization that her wishes might be affecting those around her. Her mom glanced over at Lisa, concern etched on her face. "You've been quiet, sweetheart. Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle. Lisa blinked, gazing away at the passing scenery to meet her mother's worried eyes. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her mother studied her for a moment as if trying to decipher the truth hidden behind Lisa's facade, but ultimately, she sighed and returned her attention to the road. "Alright, sweetheart, if you say so," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment. Lisa's heart twisted with guilt at the hurt evident in her mother's voice, but she couldn't bring herself to confide in her just yet. Not when she didn't fully understand the extent of the situation herself. As they pulled into the parking lot of Lisa's apartment building, Lisa felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She glanced over at her mother, her heart heavy with the burden of her secret. How could she explain what was happening without sounding crazy? "Thanks for the ride, Mom," Lisa said softly as they stepped out of the car, her eyes avoiding her mother's concerned gaze. Her mother frowned, sensing Lisa's unease. "Are you sure everything's alright, Lisa?" she asked, reaching for her daughter's hand. Lisa forced a reassuring smile, the weight of her guilt threatening to crush her. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just a lot on my mind lately, you know?" she replied, her voice tight with emotion. Her mother's expression softened with understanding, but Lisa could see the worry lingering in her eyes. "Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know I'm here for you, right?" her mother said, her voice filled with love and concern. Lisa nodded, her throat tight with unshed tears. "Thanks. I appreciate it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. As they made their way to Lisa's apartment, her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. How could she fix the situation with her parents? Would a wish fix it? The thought of her mother being affected by her wishes filled Lisa with a sickening dread. Once inside her apartment, Lisa helped her mother carry in a few bags of clothes, among other things, her movements distracted as she tried to push aside her mounting anxiety. But as they set the bags down in the living room, a sudden urge gripped Lisa "Shit..." she cursed under her breath as she stumbled backward, nearly dropping the bags she was holding. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm, concern etched on her face. "Lisa, what happened? Are you okay?" she asked, rushing to her daughter's side, concern etched on her face, Lisa forced a tight-lipped smile, her mind racing with panic. "I-I'm fine, just need to use the bathroom," she stammered, her voice strained with the effort of holding back her urgency. Without waiting for a response, Lisa hastily set down the bags and bolted towards the bathroom, her hand pressed tightly between her legs as she fought to maintain control. Her mother's worried gaze followed her daughter's frantic movements, her heart twisting with concern at the sight of Lisa's obvious distress. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her bladder screamed for release, a hot wave of pressure coursing through her body. With a shaky exhale of relief, Lisa pushed open the door and stumbled into the bathroom, her legs shaking with the effort of holding back her impending accident. Her mother hovered anxiously in the hallway, her eyes wide with concern as she watched her daughter's desperate dash to the toilet. With a frantic whimper, Lisa reached the toilet just in time, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her desperate need to pee. With a shuddering sigh of relief, she collapsed onto the seat, her bladder releasing a torrent of pent-up pressure. Hisssssss..... Outside the bathroom, Lisa's mother stood frozen in place, her heart heavy with worry as she listened to the sound of her daughter's desperate relief. There were no signs she had to pee that bad. Did she even know she had to go that bad? Her mom thought, worried about the health and well-being of her daughter. As Lisa sat on the toilet, her mind raced with a whirlwind of confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden urges to pee? It felt like her body was betraying her at the worst possible time, given the weird magic with the pull-ups appearing when she pees herself. After a few moments, Lisa managed to compose herself enough to stand up and flush the toilet. She washed her hands, her mind still reeling from the recent events. When she opened the bathroom door, her mother was waiting outside, her expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Are you... okay? That was quite a close call," her mother said, her voice gentle yet probing. Lisa tried to brush off her mother's concern, a faint blush tinting her cheeks with embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just got caught up in bringing the stuff in and didn't realize how bad I needed to go," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother, however, wasn't buying it. "Honey, that was more than just getting distracted. Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm. Lisa shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing for a plausible explanation. "It's nothing, Mom, really. Just a one-off thing," she insisted, avoiding her mother's probing gaze. Her mother sighed, placing a comforting hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Sweetheart, this isn't the first time something like this has happened, is it?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. Lisa's cheeks burned with shame as she shook her head, unable to meet her mother's gaze. "No, it's not," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Lisa's mother's brow furrowed with worry. "That isn't normal, honey. How long has this been happening?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. Lisa hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's been... a couple of days," she admitted, her voice barely audible. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm. "A couple of days!? We need to get you to a doctor," she exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency. Lisa's heart sank at the thought of having to explain everything to a doctor. "I-I don't think it's necessary, Mom. It's probably just stress or something," she stammered, her voice tinged with desperation; how could she possibly admit to having a toddler's bladder issue as an adult to another person? Her mother shook her head, her expression firm. "No, Lisa, this could be something serious. We need to get you checked out," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Okay, Mom. I'll go to the walk-in later," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother's expression softened, her worry evident in her eyes. "Okay, just promise me you'll take care of yourself, alright?" she said, reassuringly squeezing Lisa's shoulder. Lisa forced a smile, grateful for her mother's understanding. "I will, I promise," she said, her voice steadier now. With a nod, her mother released Lisa's shoulder and turned towards the door. "Alright, well, let's get the rest of these bags in, shall we?" she said, her tone lightening as she tried to change the subject. Lisa nodded, relieved by the change in topic. "Yeah, sounds good. And hey, how about we order takeout for dinner tonight? My treat," she suggested, hoping to distract her mother from pressing the issue further. Her mother smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I could go for some Chinese food. What do you think?" she asked, her enthusiasm contagious. Lisa grinned, grateful for her mother's easy acceptance. "Chinese it is, then. I'll go grab the menus, and we can decide what to get," she said, heading towards the kitchen. As they settled on their dinner choices, the tension that had filled the apartment dissipated, replaced by a sense of normalcy that was comforting to both. They spent the evening enjoying their meal and catching up on each other's lives, the earlier events pushed to the back of their minds, at least for the time being. As the night wore on, Lisa and her mother finished their dinner and settled into a comfortable routine to end the night. They chatted about mundane things, and eventually, it was time for bed. "Goodnight, Mom," Lisa said, warmly hugging her mother. "Thanks for the ride today." "Goodnight, sweetheart," her mother replied, returning the hug. "Any time, honey, consider me your personal driver for now. haha!" Her mother laughed jokingly. With a concerned smirk, Lisa watched as her mother went to the couch, where she would sleep for the night. Once her mother was settled, Lisa headed to her own bedroom, feeling mixed emotions. Was my wish the cause of my mom's separation? On her way to her bedroom, Lisa passed by the bathroom and decided she should head there first, hoping to relieve herself before bed, even though she didn't feel the need to go. Luckily, to her surprise, she ended up peeing a ton from all of the fluids she had since having dinner. "Thank GOD! I better not need to pee so badly in the morning." Relieved, Lisa got up and headed to bed, the day's events weighing heavily on her. She lay awake for hours, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted to sleep. Chapter 6: Nosy Mother With a groan, Lisa slowly blinked her eyes open, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite her troubled dreams. She stretched languidly, relishing the warmth of her bed for a few moments before reality came crashing back. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to start her day, a sudden, urgent pressure gripped her bladder, causing her to freeze mid-stretch. Frustration and confusion warred within her as she realized she had just gone to the bathroom before bed and shouldn't be feeling such a strong urge to pee so soon. "Damnit," She cursed under her breath; she quickly scrambled to her feet, her muscles protesting the abrupt movement. She hurried out of her bedroom, intent on reaching the bathroom before it was too late. As she rushed down the hallway, the noise of her footsteps echoing in the early morning silence, she inadvertently woke her mother, who had been sleeping on the couch. Her mother stirred, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she sat up, concern etching lines of worry on her face. She watched Lisa disappear into the bathroom, her heart heavy with unspoken questions. She knew something was wrong, but she also knew that Lisa wasn't ready to talk about it yet. As Lisa closed the bathroom door behind her, she let out a frustrated sigh, her mind racing with confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden, uncontrollable urges to pee? Lisa's heart pounded in her chest as she ran towards the toilet, her hand shaky for her worry of wetting herself again. With a desperate attempt, she grabbed the toilet seat to lift its lid, only for her worst fears to be realized. Hiissssss The pressure in her bladder had reached its breaking point, and before she could even get the seat up, she felt her body betray her, releasing a torrent of urine. Shame washed over her as she stood there, helplessly wetting herself, a pull-up miraculously appearing, absorbing the mess, leaving her pajama pants dry. With a defeated gasp, Lisa collapsed onto the tiled bathroom floor, feeling the soaked pull-up under her butt, bulky from absorbing all of her pee. There she sat next to the toilet, tears welling up in her eyes as frustration and embarrassment overwhelmed her. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling utterly defeated by her body's betrayal yet again. The cool tiles starkly contrasted the warmth and wetness between her legs. Tears running down her cheeks as she realized the extent of her predicament. She was a grown woman, yet here she was, wearing a wet pull-up like a toddler. "Why does this keep happening to me?" she cried, her voice trembling. "It's not fair!" The sound of her voice echoed in the small bathroom, mixing with the soft hum of the ventilation fan overhead. When Lisa's mom heard her daughter cry out from the bathroom, she got up to check on her. "I'm too old for this," Lisa muttered bitterly, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Her mother knocked softly on the door, concern evident in her voice. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Lisa wiped her tears and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm fine, Mom. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" She heard her mother's footsteps recede down the hallway, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She knew she couldn't keep hiding this from her mother, but she also didn't know how to explain what was happening to her. Lisa pushed herself up from the floor, her legs feeling weak and unsteady. She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the weight of the sodden pull-up between her legs. With a shaky breath, she reached down and removed her pajama pants, revealing the bulky garment. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as she stripped off the pull-up, the cold air of the bathroom meeting her damp skin. She balled it up, a sense of shame washing over her as she tossed it into the trash can with a soft thud echoing in the small bathroom. Lisa quickly pulled her pajama pants back on, the fabric feeling soft and clingy against her skin. She hurried back to her room, her mind racing about how to handle the situation. She searched her dresser for a clean change of clothes and realized she needed to get laundry done; she only had two pairs of clean underwear left. Grabbing one of them, she rushed back out of her room towards the bathroom to shower and remove the smell of pee before speaking with her mom next. However, she was too late; as she approached the bathroom door, she was stunned to see it was already closed and locked from her mother going in there while she grabbed her clothes. *** Lisa's mom, Carol, stood outside the closed bathroom door. Concern for her daughter mingled with a growing sense of unease as she tried to make sense of the situation. She had heard Lisa's cries, and her instinct as a mother told her that something was seriously wrong. "I'm too old for this," she heard Lisa mutter. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Carol hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob as she tried to process Lisa's words. Pull-ups? Why would Lisa be talking about wearing pull-ups? The confusion only added to Carol's growing concern, as she gently knocked on the door. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Carol called through the door, her voice laced with worry. There was a moment of silence before Lisa responded, her voice strained. "I'm fine, Mom, Just... just give me a minute, okay?" Carol hesitated, torn between respecting her daughter's privacy and wanting to comfort her. Ultimately, she decided to give Lisa the space she needed and stepped back from the door. As she waited outside the bathroom, Carol's mind raced with questions. What does she mean she is too old for this? Too old for what? Was she really wearing a pull-up? Before Carol could dwell on these thoughts any longer, she heard the sound of the bathroom door unlocking, followed by the soft click of its opening. Lisa stood in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Carol's heart broke at the sight of her daughter's anguish, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. But before Carol could say anything, Lisa rushed off to her room. Carol watched her daughter retreat down the hallway, a sense of helplessness washing over her. She knew she couldn't force Lisa to talk if she wasn't ready, but that didn't make it any easier to stand idly by while her daughter suffered. With a heavy sigh, Carol stepped into the bathroom, locking it behind her. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of what had caused Lisa's distress. The air was thick with the scent of urine, and Carol wrinkled her nose in distaste as she made her way further into the room. Her gaze landed on the trash can near the sink, and her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the crumpled pull-up lying discarded inside. Carol's breath caught in her throat as she reached for the pull-up, her fingers trembling with disbelief. She lifted the pull-up from the trash can, her eyes widening in shock as she took in its sodden state. Clearly, this wasn't just a one-time accident; there were already two in the can. Lisa must have been wearing pull-ups for some time now. Why didn't she tell her mother? Have they grown more distant than she thought? Carol searched the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with questions. She opened cabinets and drawers, looking for any sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa was using. But to her confusion, she found nothing. As Carol stood in the bathroom, her mind reeling with unanswered questions, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease settling in her stomach. She glanced around the room, her eyes scanning every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. But the bathroom offered no answers, only the lingering scent of urine. Her heart heavy with concern, Carol carefully placed the pull-up back into the trash can, her thoughts consumed by worry for her daughter. Lisa had always been independent and resilient, but seeing her distressed was tearing at Carol's maternal instincts. With a heavy sigh, Carol turned to leave the bathroom, her mind still racing about how to approach Lisa about what she had discovered. But before she could take a step, a sudden knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump in surprise. "Mom, are you almost done in there?" Lisa's voice came from the other side of the door, tinged with impatience. "I really need to take a shower." Carol's heart sank at the sound of Lisa's voice, the defeated tone in her voice only added to Carol's growing sense of worry. She had been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't even considered how her actions might affect Lisa. Now, feeling guilty for being the cause of slowing down Lisa's efforts to clean herself up from her accident this morning. "Sorry, sweetie, I'll be out in just a minute," Carol replied, her voice strained with emotion. She quickly moved to the toilet, her need to pee still present. As Carol relieved herself, her mind raced with thoughts of how to handle the situation with Lisa. She knew she needed to talk to her daughter about what she had discovered, but she also didn't want to invade Lisa's privacy or make her feel ashamed. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Carol finished her business and flushed the toilet, her thoughts still in turmoil as she washed her hands. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for the difficult conversation ahead, before finally opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Lisa was waiting just outside the bathroom, her expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she watched her mother emerge. Carol's heart ached at seeing her daughter's troubled face, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry for taking so long, sweetie," Carol said softly, gently touching Lisa's arm. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." Lisa forced a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's okay, Mom. I just really need to take a shower." Carol nodded understandingly, stepping aside to let Lisa pass. As her daughter disappeared into the bathroom, Carol couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she couldn't avoid the conversation they needed to have, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for Lisa than they already were. Unsatisfied with the answers she had found so far, Carol turned to Lisa's room. As Carol entered Lisa's room, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. She felt conflicted; she didn't want to invade her daughter's privacy, but she knew she needed to find some answers. With a heavy heart, she began to search the room, careful not to disturb anything from where it was. Her eyes scanned every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. As she opened drawers and checked closets, Carol's heart sank further. There was no sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa had been using, and only one pair of clean underwear was left in her daughter's drawer. Carol felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she concluded that Lisa must have been struggling with her bladder for a while now. With a sigh, Carol closed the drawer and turned to leave the room, her mind still racing with unanswered questions. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about what was happening, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for her daughter than they already were. She just wanted to reassure her that it was alright and that she would be there for her. *** As Lisa stepped into the bathroom, a knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. She couldn't shake the worry that her mother had seen the pull-ups in the trash. The thought made her heart race with panic, but she quickly pushed it aside, telling herself she was overthinking things. With trembling hands, Lisa quickly stripped off her pajamas and stepped into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water cascaded over her body, washing away the physical evidence of her embarrassment. As she stood under the spray, lost in her thoughts, Lisa's phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, startling her out of her thoughts. Confused, she reached for it, her fingers struggling to unlock the screen from the shower's steam. A text from Craig flashed across the display, and Lisa's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name. Despite everything that had happened, his message brought a small glimmer of comfort to her troubled mind. "Hey, babe. Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I know work has been crazy lately, but I'm here for you, okay? Let me know if you need anything. Love you ❤️" Tears pricked at the corners of Lisa's eyes as she read Craig's words. Despite the chaos around her, his unwavering support was a beacon of hope in the darkness. With a watery smile, Lisa quickly typed a reply, her thumbs flying across the screen. "Thanks, Craig. I really appreciate it. I've just been really busy lately and barely hit my deadline on Friday. But knowing you're there for me means the world. Love you too ❤️" As she hit send, a sense of relief washed over her. No matter the challenges, she knew she had people around her who cared about her. Craig, Sarah, and Mom would all be there for her. Even with that reassurance, Lisa felt a small pit in her stomach as she thought about what had happened with her mom and dad. Even if they are there for her now, what happens if she makes a foolish wish that ruins their life? Could she live with herself if that were to happen? Lisa pushed off her worries for now. She finished drying off, getting dressed in a checkered black and white skirt, a pair of nylons, and a white blouse with a jacket over the top. As she dressed, she couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety about meeting Sarah and revealing the truth about the magic bracelet. But she knew she needed to confide in her friend; she couldn't keep this secret to herself. Sarah was the perfect person to confide in. Sarah had always been a good listener and had a knack for offering practical advice. With a deep breath, Lisa grabbed her phone and sent Sarah a text message asking her to meet at a local coffee shop. She hoped that Sarah would be able to help her navigate the chaos that had become her life ever since she had received the bracelet. As Lisa exited the bathroom, her heart raced with the fear of encountering her mother, her mind still reeling from the morning's events. She clutched the trash can tightly, determined to dispose of the evidence of her accidents before her mom could find them. She didn't want anything else to complicate her already chaotic situation. However, as she made her way down the hallway, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible, Lisa froze in her tracks as she heard her mother's voice from the living room. "Lisa, honey, wait." Carol's gentle tone sent a shiver down Lisa's spine, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She couldn't face her mother right now, not with the shame of her secret weighing heavily in her hand in the trash can. But before Lisa could retreat outside to dispose of the evidence, Carol appeared in the hallway, her expression a mix of concern and confusion as she approached her daughter. "Sweetie, are you okay?" Carol asked, her voice soft and gentle. "I saw you rush into the bathroom earlier in a hurry, and... well, I just want to make sure you're alright?" Lisa's heart clenched at the worry in her mother's eyes, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. She couldn't bear to lie to her mother, not when she had always been there for her, but she also couldn't bring herself to admit the truth about the magic bracelet. "I'm fine, Mom," Lisa replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside her. "Just... you know, when you gotta go, you gotta go." Carol studied her daughter's face for a moment, her brow furrowed with concern, before nodding slowly. "Alright, if you say so, sweetie," she said, though her voice was tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe try going before going to bed next time. haha," She laughed, trying to joke and lighten the mood. Lisa's face blushed a slightly brighter red. "Yeah, I tried that last night, but it didn't work as well as I hoped. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so bad when I woke up. haha," Lisa tried joking back in hopes of keeping her mom off the trail of what was really going on. As if this was a totally normal thing for her to deal with. "Right?! I guess I can relate to that." Carol replied, trying to ease up the embarrassment she saw she was indirectly causing. "Are you taking out the trash?" she asked, her curiosity piqued, trying to change the subject. Lisa's cheeks now burned with embarrassment as she realized she had been caught in the act. "Uh, yeah," she stammered, her mind racing for an excuse. "I... I just noticed it was getting full, so I thought I'd take care of it." "Do you mind taking out this bag with you? I would have done it sooner, but I didn't know where the bins are here," she said, pointing to the bag she had from the day before, leaning up against the door. "Sure, I can do that," Lisa replied, quickly grabbing the bag and trying to run out the door before her mom could see what was in the trash bin in her hand. "Is there anything you need, sweetie? I was about to head out to the store, so if you need anything, just let me know." Carol asked her daughter, curious if she would admit to needing more pull-ups. Lisa's heart skipped a beat, worried her mom might have seen the pull-ups and assumed she needed more. "Uh, no, Mom, I'm good," she replied quickly, her mind racing for an excuse. "But... um, actually, I was planning to meet Sarah for coffee later. Do you think you could give me a ride?" Carol's expression was soft, nodding with a smile. "Of course, sweetie," she said. "I'd be happy to give you a ride. Just let me know when you're ready to go, okay?" Lisa's heart swelled with gratitude for her mother's support. "Thanks, Mom," she said, her voice lighter than before, as she felt a weight removed, hoping things were more normal. "You're the best." With a final smile, Carol turned and headed back to the living room, leaving Lisa alone in the hallway with a sense of relief washing over her. She knew she couldn't keep hiding the truth from her mother forever, but for now, she was grateful for the chance to spend time with her friend and get the trash out before her mom could try to confront her about the pull-ups. Chapter 7: Coffee Date The coffee shop came into view as Carol's car pulled up to the curb. People were bustling in and out of the coffee shop, seemingly in a hurry to get wherever they were going. Lisa's stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation as she glanced out the window. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she knew she was about to have. As the car came to a stop, Lisa started to exit the car; Carol's gentle voice interrupted her, concern etched in every line of her face. "Are you sure you don't need anything from the store? I can pick up anything you might need?" Carol's offer carried a note of worry, her hope that her daughter would open up about her needs. Lisa forced a smile, trying to reassure her mother. "No, Mom, I'm good, really. I have everything I need." But before she can fully step out, Carol's concern spills over into another question, one Lisa had hoped to avoid. "When are you planning on seeing the doctor? It has me worried about you." Lisa felt a pang of defensiveness rise within her. It's not that she doesn't appreciate her mother's concern; it's just that she's too embarrassed about the situation to want to bring it up with someone else. She hardly wanted to talk to Sarah about it, but they'd been best friends for years now, and the number of times she's had to help Sarah get home after getting too tipsy at a club and wetting herself, she knew Sarah would be the last person to judge her about this situation. "I'll get to it, Mom, I promise," Lisa replies, trying to strike a balance between reassurance and deflection. "But honestly, I'm feeling fine today. Really." Carol's worry hardly dissipates, but she nods reluctantly, knowing when her daughter is putting up walls. "Okay, honey. I'm here for you if you need anything." Lisa nods, offering another weak smile before finally leaving the car. As she watches Carol drive away, she can't shake the guilt that twists in her gut. She knows her mother only wants to help her, but opening up about the reality of her situation is a hurdle she's not quite ready to jump yet, at least not with her mom. As Lisa stepped into the coffee shop, she scanned the area and spotted Sarah sitting at their usual table near a window at the front of the shop, a warm smile on her face. Lisa felt a sense of relief wash over her; Sarah's presence always brought comfort, especially in times of uncertainty. Approaching the table, Lisa noticed that Sarah had already ordered her favorite coffee—a small gesture that meant more to her than she could express. "Hey, Sarah," Lisa greeted her friend with a grateful smile as she took a seat opposite her. "Hey, Lisa! I got your usual, hope that's alright," Sarah said, sliding the cup across the table. "How's your day been so far?" Taking a sip of her coffee, Lisa sighed, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. "It's been... eventful, to say the least," she replied, her thoughts briefly flickering back to her urgent need for the bathroom this morning and the pull-ups she ended up throwing out after having another accident. Sarah raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to Lisa's day than she was letting on, but she decided not to press, as she seemed a little distressed. "Well, you made it through the week in one piece. That's always a win," she remarked with a playful grin. "Yeah, barely," Lisa chuckled, grateful for Sarah's light-hearted approach. "Any exciting plans for the weekend?" The two friends engaged in some light small talk while sipping away at their favorite drinks. Discussing their respective Fridays and plans for the weekend. Sarah mentioned a new movie that was coming out and suggested they go see it together. "That sounds like fun! I'd love to see it with you," Lisa said, genuinely looking forward to spending more time with her friend. Sarah, ever perceptive, remembered seeing Carol was the one to drop her off. "We should look at show times later. I also noticed that your mom dropped you off today. Is everything okay with her?" she asked gently, her eyes filled with concern. Lisa hesitated, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should she tell Sarah about the bracelet and its wishes? Would Sarah even believe her? She knew how crazy it all sounded, and the last thing she wanted was for Sarah to think she had lost her mind. As she debated internally, Sarah's voice broke through her thoughts. "Lisa, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, no matter what." Taking a deep breath, Lisa weighed her options. On one hand, keeping everything bottled up inside was taking its toll on her mental health, and she longed for someone to confide in. On the other hand, the risk of rejection and judgment was almost too much to bear. Sarah's concerned gaze met Lisa's, and she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. Maybe, just maybe, Sarah would understand. Maybe she'd even believe her. "I... I don't even know where to begin," Lisa started, her voice barely above a whisper. She fidgeted with her coffee cup, unable to meet Sarah's gaze. Sarah reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Lisa's trembling fingers. "You can tell me anything, Lisa. I'm here for you." The words hung in the air, heavy with promise and acceptance. With a shaky breath, Lisa mustered the courage to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, but... but something bizarre has been happening to me lately," she began, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I... I've been making these... wishes, and they've been coming true. It's like magic or something, I don't know." She braced herself for Sarah's reaction, steeling herself for disbelief or mockery. But to her surprise, Sarah simply nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Go on," Sarah encouraged, her tone gentle yet unwavering. Lisa began recounting the events of the past few days—the mysterious package, the bracelet, the note. "It grants wishes, but not in the way you'd expect," Lisa explained, trying to find the right words to describe the inexplicable nature of the bracelet's powers. "I didn't believe it at first. I only put it on in the first place because I thought it was cute, but then... things started happening." She explained her experiences with the bracelet, from her wishing to no longer need to ride the bus and how her mom called shortly after, only to find out her mom and dad were separating. Sarah listened intently, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief at the news about Lisa's parents. As Sarah listened to Lisa's recounting of the events surrounding the mysterious bracelet, her initial expression of shock slowly transitioned into a more skeptical demeanor. She furrowed her brows, processing the information, but there was a glimmer of concern underlying her reaction. "I don't know, Lisa," Sarah starts cautiously, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, it's definitely... a strange coincidence, but... magic bracelets? That's a bit... out there, don't you think?" Lisa's heart sinks as she registers Sarah's disbelief. She had hoped that confiding in her friend would provide some relief, but instead, she feels a sense of isolation deepen within her. She opens her mouth to protest, to insist that it's all true, but Sarah's next words catch her off guard. "I'm really sorry to hear about your mom, Lisa," Sarah says, her tone softening with genuine sympathy. "That's a lot to deal with, especially on top of everything else you've been going through." Lisa's breath catches in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Th-thanks," Lisa manages to choke out, her voice wavering with emotion. "It's been... rough, I... I just don't know how to process what is going on right now." Sarah nods understandingly, reaching across the table to squeeze Lisa's hand in a comforting gesture. "I can only imagine," she murmurs, her gaze filled with compassion. As the weight of the conversation hangs heavy in the air, Lisa wrestles with the urge to divulge the full extent of the bracelet's powers. She knows it sounds absurd, even to her own ears, but a part of her longs for Sarah to believe her, to validate her and the events happening to her. Before she can gather the courage to speak. However, a sudden pressure builds in her bladder, cutting through her thoughts with urgent intensity. Panic floods her senses as she realizes she's moments away from having another accident. "I... I need to use the bathroom," Lisa blurted out, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry, I'll be right back." Sarah's concern flared anew at Lisa's abrupt announcement, her brows knitting together in worry. "Are you okay? You seem... flustered." Lisa shook her head, her mind racing with anxiety. "I'll explain everything, I promise. Just... just give me a minute." Without waiting for Sarah's response, Lisa rose from her seat, her heart pounding. She knew she had to do something to prove the bracelet's magic to Sarah, to make her believe. Then, suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She was about to have an accident, which meant her underwear would change into a pull-up again. She could show Sarah her underwear and then have an accident, and they'll transform. Sarah would have to believe her at that point! "Come with me," Lisa urged, her voice tinged with urgency. "I'll show you." Confusion flickered across Sarah's features, but she rose from her seat nonetheless, her concern for Lisa outweighing her bewilderment. "Okay?" As they made their way to the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, her determination bolstered by the knowledge that she was about to reveal the truth to Sarah. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that Sarah might still doubt her even after witnessing the bracelet's magic firsthand. But she couldn't let that stop her. She had to make Sarah understand, to believe her. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, Lisa gestured for Sarah to follow her inside. "Watch," she instructed, her voice tinged with excitement and trepidation. "I'll prove it's not just random coincidences." Lisa's heart pounded as she led Sarah into the bathroom, her mind racing with the gravity of what she was about to reveal. She could feel Sarah's skeptical and confused gaze burning into the back of her head, but she refused to let doubt cloud her determination. As they entered the bathroom, Lisa's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her skirt. With a deep breath, she lifted it up, exposing her panties to Sarah's bewildered gaze. "Look," Lisa urged, her voice tight with urgency. "I'm not crazy. My underwear will turn into a pull-up if I... if I..." Her words trailed off as panic surged through her, her bladder protesting with increasing urgency. Desperately, she tried to hold back the inevitable, her muscles straining against the overwhelming pressure. As Lisa stood there, her eyes squeezed shut in a mix of desperation and embarrassment, Sarah's expression shifted from confusion to shock. "Lisa, what are you doing? Use the toilet!" Sarah's voice was filled with a mix of disbelief and worry as she took a step closer, reaching out as if to offer support. "I-I'm sorry," Lisa stammered, her voice strained with effort. "I just... I need you to believe me. Please, just watch." With a deep breath, Lisa forced herself to relax, letting go of the last shreds of control she had over her bladder. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of urine hitting the floor and pooling below her. Nothing happened. There was no magical transformation, no pull-up appearing to save her from the humiliating accident she had just experienced. Instead, Lisa felt the warm, wet sensation spreading down her legs, the sign of the bracelet's magic taunting her. Why didn't it work? Her eyes snapped open in horror, tears welling up as she looked down at the puddle forming at her feet. She had hoped that the bracelet's magic would somehow prove her right, but all it had done was leave her feeling stupid, foolish, and extremely embarrassed in front of her closest friend. Sarah's gasp of shock was the only sound in the bathroom as she took in the scene before her. She could hardly believe what she was seeing, her mind struggling to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding in front of her. "L-Lisa... what just happened?" Sarah's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with disbelief. Lisa could only hang her head in defeat, unable to find the words to explain. She felt a wave of shame wash over her, knowing that she had proven nothing and now probably seemed even crazier to Sarah than before. Now, feeling like she had just lost all sense of reality. "I-I'm so sorry, Sarah," Lisa choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. "I thought... I just thought if you saw it, you'd believe me about the bracelet. But I was wrong. I was so wrong." Sarah's expression softened with genuine concern as she stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch Lisa's trembling shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice filled with compassion. "Accidents happen, you know? I mean, how many times did you help me out at the club?" But despite Sarah's words of comfort, Lisa couldn't shake the crushing weight of her embarrassment. She felt like a total idiot for doing this on purpose in front of someone. Why didn't she think of a better way to prove the bracelet's magic? With a shaky breath, she stepped back from the puddle to see the damage that was done. "I... I think I just need a moment," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. Sarah nodded understandingly, her concern etched in every line of her face. "Of course, take all the time you need. I'll be right outside if you need anything." Sarah quietly exited the bathroom, leaving Lisa alone with her shame. Lisa sat down, wondering if she could ever face her friend again. The weight of her humiliation threatened to overwhelm her with tears. How could she even bring herself to step out and face Sarah again? Chapter 8: Shopping As Carol navigated the familiar streets to the store, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Lisa. She couldn't shake the worry that lingered since her daughter had started acting strangely, especially after finding those pull-ups in the trash. Pulling into the grocery store's parking lot, Carol grabbed her list and headed inside. The store was bustling with activity, shoppers weaving in and out of aisles, their carts filled with the week's necessities. Carol couldn't help but overhear bits of conversation from nearby shoppers as she wandered through the aisles. Seeing one little girl ask her mom to use the potty while doing a potty dance only exaggerated her thoughts about Lisa and her close calls. Pushing her cart along, Carol collected different items on her list, her thoughts drifting back to Lisa. She had always been a bit of a worrier, but lately, it seemed like something more was weighing on her daughter. Carol glanced down at her list, her eyes catching on the item with a question mark next to it: "Pull-ups?" She furrowed her brow, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach as she considered the implications. Should she really be contemplating buying pull-ups for Lisa? Would that be crossing a line? Would Lisa appreciate the fact she didn't have to ask? With a sigh, Carol pushed her cart forward, weaving through the bustling aisles of the grocery store. As she passed by the baby care section, she couldn't help but steal a glance at the pull-up packages on the shelves. She scanned them, trying to match the design she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. There were dozens of different styles and brands. But it had to be here somewhere. The ones in the trash were rather childish, nothing like a grown-up would wear or what you could get at the pharmacy. Carol's steps slowed as she approached the baby care section, her eyes scanning the shelves for any hint of familiarity. She felt a pang of guilt for even considering buying pull-ups for Lisa without her consent. But the worry gnawing at her heart was too strong to ignore. She began to sift through the various packages, her eyes tracing over the different designs and sizes. None of them seemed to match what she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. She let out a frustrated sigh, feeling lost in a sea of unfamiliar products. "Excuse me, ma'am, can I help you find something?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. Carol looked up to see a store employee with a friendly smile. "Oh, um, yes, I'm looking for pull-ups," Carol replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. The employee nodded. "Sure, what size are you looking for?" Carol hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want to reveal too much about her daughter's situation to a stranger. "Um, I'm not exactly sure. I think for some older kids?" The employee nodded understandingly and led Carol to a different section of the aisle, where the bedwetting pull-ups were stored. Carol's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. How had Lisa ended up needing pull-ups? Was it a medical issue? Or was there something else going on that she didn't know about? With a heavy heart, Carol thanked the employee for the help. Staring at the package of the same pull-ups she saw in the trash, she felt torn. Should she pick them up? It seemed like Lisa was out of them at home, or at least she couldn't find any of them. Would buying them only embarrass Lisa more? Carol shook her head, trying to push aside her growing concern. She continued down the aisles, methodically ticking off the remaining items from her list, but her mind kept returning to Lisa and the pull-ups. Maybe she should pick them up just in case? The worst case scenario is she totally misread the situation and can just return them, and the two of them will laugh about this one day. Torn, Carol returned to the baby care aisle, selected a package that seemed to match the ones she had seen at home. Finally, with her cart filled and her list completed, Carol made her way to the checkout counter. As she waited in line, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was invading her daughter's privacy in a way she never had before. She began to unload her groceries onto the conveyor belt. But she couldn't shake feeling embarrassed for her daughter as she placed the package of overnight pull-ups on the belt. Her cheeks blushed lightly at the thought that she was buying these for her adult daughter. As Carol finished placing the last of her items on the belt she felt her phone buzz in her purse. She fished it out and saw a message from Sarah, Lisa's close friend. The message caught her off guard, and she quickly glanced around to ensure no one was looking over her shoulder as she read it, briefly looking at the pack of pull-ups before opening the text. "Hey Carol, wanted to give you a heads up. I'm gonna take Lisa over to my place for a bit, and then we're gonna catch a movie. So don't wait up for us, I'll drop her off at home later. Let us know if you need anything." Carol's heart skipped a beat with relief as she read the message. She felt slightly concerned for her daughter, for not being able to get her to the doctor today; feeling she should have been more adamant about it. But it is nice to hear Lisa is getting some girl time in. Carol quickly sent a thumbs-up emoji, and paid for her items brushing off the embarrassment about buying pull-ups. She doesn't have to have a direct conversation with Lisa about them now, or at least for a little while. Carol drove back to the apartment. On the drive, she began to think about what she should do with the pack of pull-ups. Should she leave it on the table for them to talk about when she gets home? No. That would be a bad idea, what if Sarah comes in to chat? Then, it would be on full display. What about her bedroom? Sarah wasn't likely to go in there. But what if Lisa brings back a guy? It would be a little awkward with her mom there, but it would be even worse if he saw a pack of bedwetting diapers on her bed. Then, it struck her. Duh, I can just leave them in her underwear drawer. No guy will go in there unless he is a creep, and if that's the case then they aren't meant to be anyway. When she arrived home, Carol rushed to bring in everything. As Carol brought the groceries inside, she couldn't shake off the weight of concern that had settled in her chest since finding those pull-ups in the trash. She made multiple trips from the car to the apartment, each time feeling the pull of worry tugging at her thoughts. Finally, with everything brought in, Carol began sorting through the bags to find the pull-ups. She located them nestled among the groceries and pulled them out, feeling a sense of apprehension. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about them, but the right opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. With the package of pull-ups in hand, Carol made her way towards Lisa's room. She hesitated at the doorway, her mind racing with uncertainties. How would Lisa react to finding them? Would she be upset? Embarrassed? Would she even understand why Carol had bought them? Pushing aside her doubts, Carol stepped into Lisa's room and began searching through her stuff again, hoping to find a pack of pull-ups that were just well hidden. But no matter how hard she tried, she kept coming up empty-handed. She even pulled out the drawers to see if Lisa had hidden them behind the drawers but turned up nothing. Where was she keeping them? After a lot of rummaging, she finally gave up, opting to leave the pull-ups – tucked away in Lisa's underwear drawer. It seemed like the most discreet option, ensuring they would be there when Lisa needed them without drawing unnecessary attention. As Carol placed the package in the drawer, her fingers brushed against something else – a small box containing a note. Curiosity piqued, she picked up the box and examined its contents. The note inside caught her eye, and she read it over carefully, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Is this some kind of joke?" Carol muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. The idea of a magical bracelet granting wishes seemed too absurd to be true. Without giving it a second thought, she left Lisa's room in a state close to its original so as not to raise suspicion. Chapter 9: What are Friends for? As Lisa gingerly inspected her skirt, relief flooded her when she realized the fabric hadn't visibly betrayed her humiliating accident. With a shaky sigh, she began to peel off her wet underwear, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the mess she had made. Not wanting to stay in urine-soaked underwear or have any way to carry them out of the bathroom without it being clearly visible, Lisa opted to dispose of the soiled garment. Lisa grabbed some paper towels, used them to dry off her legs, and tossed several on the floor to help mop up the puddle she had created. Not wanting to leave a mess for the staff to clean. She quickly used her feet to mop up the evidence of her mishap the best she could before she disposed of the soaked paper towels; luckily, they also helped to bury her underwear sitting in the trash can. Just as she was beginning to regain some composure, a gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door, causing Lisa's heart to skip a beat, freezing her in her tracks. "Lisa? Are you okay in there?" Sarah's voice was filled with concern, muffled by the closed door. Lisa's heart eased with gratitude at the sound of her friend's voice. Despite her mortification, she couldn't help but feel warmth at Sarah's support. Lisa called out, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the lingering embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning as Sarah pushed open the door, her concerned gaze meeting Lisa's. "I brought you something," Sarah said softly, holding out a rolled-up fabric bundle. I keep a new pack of underwear in my car for emergencies, and I thought you might appreciate a pair ." Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the offering, touched by Sarah's thoughtfulness despite the situation's awkwardness. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I... I really appreciate it." Sarah smiled sympathetically, her eyes warm with understanding. "No problem. We've all been there, right?" As Lisa quickly changed into dry underwear, a sense of gratitude washed over her. She felt so lucky to have a friend like Sarah in her life—someone who didn't judge her for the awkward moment she had just put her friend through, someone who just so happened to be ready for something like this to happen, someone who she could talk to, to get her thoughts, fears, and secrets out to. "Looks like you've got everything taken care of," Sarah remarked, breaking the silence as Lisa finished changing. "Yeah, thanks to you," Lisa replied, smiling gratefully at her friend. They stood there momentarily, the weight of the situation still hanging in the air. Lisa felt the urge to make another wish, to undo everything that had happened, but she hesitated. She remembered what happened with her mom. What unforeseen consequence would happen with a wish to undo something already done? She couldn't risk making things worse. Sarah must have sensed her friend's turmoil because she spoke up. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? You can take a shower and relax for a bit. Maybe it'll help clear your mind." Lisa appreciated the offer and nodded, relieved to escape her apartment and her mom for a while. "That sounds really nice, actually. Thank you." As they left the bathroom and headed towards the exit, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of unease. She knew she had to be careful with the bracelet and its wishes, but she couldn't ignore the temptation to use it again. The power it held was both alluring and terrifying. Once they were in Sarah's car, Lisa glanced at the bracelet on her wrist, feeling conflicted. She thought about wishing to undo everything that had happened, to erase the embarrassment and the mess. But something held her back. She couldn't shake the feeling that using the bracelet again would only lead to more trouble. Sarah tried to distract Lisa from what happened. "Hey, I've done it a thousand times," she said, trying to ease Lisa's embarrassment. "Don't sweat it. We all have our moments." Lisa nodded, grateful for Sarah's understanding. She couldn't shake off the embarrassment, but Sarah's reassurance helped. "I just wish this whole thing hadn't happened," Lisa muttered, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "That was the most embarrassing thing ever." Sarah comforted her friend, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know it feels like a big deal now, but trust me, we'll laugh about this one day. In the meantime, let's hit the road to my place so you can get that shower. And hey, we can still go see that movie we talked about if you're up for it." Lisa managed a weak smile, grateful for Sarah's friendship. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks." As they drove to Sarah's place, Lisa couldn't help but wonder why nothing had happened. She made a wish, just like she had done with not wanting to ride the bus. Only nothing changed. She was still embarrassed about what happened. She was still in Sarah's car, still wearing different underwear than when she started the day. She stared at the bracelet momentarily, frustrated that it refused to work how she thought it would. It didn't protect her from peeing herself; it got her mom in a separation, and now it was ignoring her. This thing is a curse! As they arrived at Sarah's place, Lisa felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. The short ride had provided a small respite from the day's events, but she knew she couldn't escape them entirely. Sarah's apartment building was familiar yet unfamiliar, a place Lisa had never visited despite their close friendship. Sarah led the way, her steps brisk as they ascended the stairs to her apartment. Lisa followed, her mind still reeling from the day's events. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging suspicion that the bracelet on her wrist was more trouble than it was worth. Inside Sarah's apartment, Lisa took in her surroundings with curiosity. The space was cozy and inviting, filled with warmth and a comforting home scent. Sarah gestured for Lisa to make herself comfortable as she disappeared into another room, returning with a bundle of clothes moments later. "Here you go," Sarah said, offering Lisa the clothes with a sympathetic smile. "I grabbed you some clean clothes and a towel. The bathroom's right through there." Lisa accepted the clothes gratefully, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. "Thanks." Once inside the bathroom, Lisa hesitated momentarily, her fingers trembling as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She paused, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of uncertainty and resignation. How had her life come to this? Soiling herself as if she couldn't control it. She never imagined herself in a situation quite like this. All of this chaos in her life, all of it because of a cursed bracelet? Shaking off the thoughts, Lisa focused, quickly undressing until she was just in her underwear. She stared at herself in the mirror, the image reflecting back at her a stark reminder. She couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over her. She had been in this situation before, just a few days ago when she got the bracelet. She stood in the bathroom staring at her reflection looking at a wet pull-up she was wearing. Here she was again. Having had an accident, only this time, she was in underwear. The pull-up, no-where to be seen. Just as Lisa was about to step into the shower, Sarah's voice interrupted her thoughts from outside the bathroom door. "Hey, I'm going to order some takeout. If there's anything specific you want, just text it to me. Otherwise, I'm just going to get some Chinese food." "Sounds good! Thanks." Lisa called back, her voice brimming with gratitude. As she stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her body, Lisa couldn't help but feel relief washing over her. The day's events seemed to fade away if only for a moment, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace. She was grateful for the opportunity to wash away her shameful moment, leaving it in the past. Once she had finished showering and dried off, Lisa dressed in the clothes Sarah had left for her, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. Not only was she understanding, but she was also being overly generous. Sarah gave her a pair of brand new underwear again, a pair of sweat pants, and a large hoodie—the perfect comfort clothes to combat the stressful day she had had so far. As Lisa emerged from the bathroom, Sarah greeted her with a warm smile. "Feeling better?" Lisa nodded, her spirits lifted by the comfort of her friend's presence. "Yeah, thanks to you." Sarah smiled, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, Lisa. That's what friends are for." Lisa and Sarah settled in to enjoy their takeout, the tension of the day began to melt away. They chatted and laughed; Lisa told Sarah about her date with Craig tomorrow. Excited to be able to see him again and enjoy a nice meal with him. The comfort of their friendship eased Lisa's earlier embarrassment. Lisa felt grateful for Sarah's understanding and support, her worries about her accident and the pull-ups momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the evening. As they finished their meal, Sarah glanced at the clock and frowned. "We should probably head out soon if we want to make it to the movie on time," she said, double-checking the time on her phone. Lisa nodded, a sense of unease creeping back into her mind. She knew she had no way of controlling the bracelet's magic. Not yet, at least. Not wanting to embarrass herself any more than she already had, she knew she needed to use the bathroom before they left. She couldn't risk ruining Sarah's clothes or embarrassing herself again. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick," Lisa said, trying to sound casual despite her nerves. She didn't feel the need to go, but waiting until she needed to go hasn't been working out the best for her lately. "I'll meet you by the door." "Take your time, Lisa. We're in no rush." As Lisa entered the bathroom, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over her. She stared at herself in the mirror, the worried look in her reflection a stark reminder of the day's events. She couldn't let another accident happen, not now. Taking a deep breath, Lisa moved herself over to the toilet and sat on it. She tried as hard as she could to relax and let herself go. She couldn't feel any sensation that it was working. It was like her body had chosen to ignore her completely now. Suddenly, she heard the splashing water and a stream running. She let out a sigh of relief. Maybe she could get through the rest of the day without further embarrassment. She knew she still had to be careful with the bracelet, especially now that its magic had been confirmed and seemed unpredictable. She couldn't risk trusting it to replace her underwear and prevent an accident. After using the bathroom, Lisa took a moment to compose herself, her mind racing with thoughts of the bracelet and its powers. She couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for ever putting it on, for ever making those wishes. But she also knew she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was be cautious and hope for the best. As she rejoined Sarah in the living room, Lisa forced a smile, trying to push aside her lingering worries. "Ready to go?" Sarah nodded, standing up from the couch. "Yeah, let's go."
  2. The one thing Madelyn desires most in the world is to wear diapers again, and she is prepared to do anything to make that wish come true. As inexplicable as that desire is for a twelve-year-old girl, it is one she has obsessed over for the past three years. Ever since Madelyn tried on a pull-up that a distant cousin had used for bedwetting, the thought of what it would be like to forego her underwear for that padded, crinkling sensation between her legs has been a desire she has been unable to shake. Every other plan to get her hands on diapers or pull-ups has failed up to now. But this time it is going to be different. This time it is going to work. This time she isn’t going to back out at the last minute. The plan is simple. All Madelyn has to do is intentionally begin to wet the bed at night. Then, her parents will have no choice but to get her the diapers she so badly desires. What could possibly go wrong? Chapter 1: Daydreams in Class I will not chicken out this time. That was what I had told myself two days ago. That was also what I had told myself yesterday. Third time was the charm, right? It was easy to put a bold face to my latest harebrained scheme to acquire diapers from the safety of my daydreams. It was much harder when the time came to actually carry out the plan that had been brewing in the back of my mind for the past year – one I had finally decided to put into motion this week. Why would a 12-year-old girl want to wear diapers in the first place? I don’t know. All I know is that for the past three years, nothing I have done has been successful at getting this obsession out of my head. I certainly didn’t have any interest in being a baby. My younger brother, Jackson, is only six years old. I discovered where Mom kept all his old baby stuff long ago. I’ve tried his old pacifiers, bottles, and sippy cups. None of those items held any appeal for me. I can’t stand kids’ TV shows. I can’t color to save my life. And don’t get me started on dollhouses, barbies, and whatever other toys babies like to play with. In every aspect of my life other than this strange desire for diapers, I wanted to act my age. My latest plan all started a year ago with a magazine and a desire to procrastinate on my homework. There had to be some level of irony to the fact that this latest idea came about when I was seated on the porcelain throne. Mom had almost a dozen different magazines she subscribed to. Most of them found their way to the bathroom, which was also probably the only circumstance where I would have even considered reading them in the first place. I was already finished doing my business, but leaving the bathroom meant needing to continue a homework assignment I’d been slowly picking away at for the past hour. The only reason I even bothered to pick up a copy of the Reader’s Digest on that day about a year ago was for the few sections where it had funny jokes and stories. That, and I had left my smartphone in the bedroom. I really didn’t know how my parents managed when they were my age. I skimmed through the first section of jokes. Whoever had put together this edition of the magazine had totally mailed it in. There was a completely unoriginal one about redheads and souls that had me tempted to toss the magazine in the garbage. I mean, with how many magazines Mom had, would she even miss it? Redhead jokes get old really quick when you’ve had people telling you them your whole life. It has been forever since I’d been told one I hadn’t heard before. And even longer since I’ve been told one that was actually funny. Maybe I would have better luck with the second humor section toward the back of the magazine. I flipped through the pages casually when one of the advertisements caught my eye. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. There it was. Right on the page. An exact replicate of the pull-up I had briefly stolen from a cousin two years ago. But there was more. That pull-up from two years ago had been the boys’ designs. This ad showed that there were ones for girls as well. And even though I’d had a pretty good growth spurt in the past two years, the product info indicated that I wasn’t even close to being too big to wear them. I didn’t tuck the magazine in the trash, but I did take it with me from the bathroom, burying it deep inside my box of miscellaneous things in my bedroom. I’ve looked at that page at least once a day for the past year. “Earth to Maddy. Earth to Maddy. We’re calling in.” My head jerked upright from the hard wooden desk in my math classroom to the sound of laughter. “Here!” I called back to our math teacher. “Well, thank you for joining us again, Maddy. Now,” he said, pointing to a cluster of numbers, letters, and symbols on the whiteboard, “that we’ve isolated ‘x’ on this side of the equation. Can you tell us what it is?” I had enough trouble paying attention in classes that I liked. For ones I hated? The temptation to daydream was hard to resist. And I hated math class. It was hard enough when we were dealing with regular numbers. I would be lucky to scrape by with a “B-” on my report card. But now, with the end of the school year in sight, my math teacher had ever-so-helpfully decided to give us a sneak peek of some of the things we got to look forward to learning next year in eighth grade. I sucked at long division. But it at least made sense conceptually. The numbers were real, even if doing the work to get the answer was tedious. But now there was this thing the teacher called Algebra, where we were supposed to be adding up letters as well as numbers, which was beyond my ability to comprehend. Every “x” and “y” on the whiteboard seemed designed to taunt me. May as well put a “D” or a “C” on the board, as that was about what I could expect on my report card next year if this was what was in store for me. I stared blankly at the whiteboard with the sinking feeling that even if I had been paying attention for the past five minutes, I wouldn’t be any closer to understanding what was going on. “Um,” I said, picking at my nails while I continued to stare ahead. I had to at least give some kind of guess. But my brain and my mouth sometimes aren’t exactly in sync with one another. “The spot.” “I’m sorry. What was that?” Mr. Thompson asked. “You know, the spot. Like, ‘x’ marks the spot.” The classroom was full of laughter again. This time with me rather than at me. I made eye contact with one of my friends, Angie, who turned to look back at me from the front row. We shared a smirk at the joke. Mr. Thompson sighed. “Everyone settled down, please.” He gave me a look that suggested he might be once again telling my parents about how I had apparently been disruptive in class. “Now, Maddy, if you had been paying attention as we worked through this problem, you would know that the answer was actually…” I didn’t even manage to pay attention long enough to get to the answer to what ‘x’ happened to be or what sorcery had been used to arrive at that conclusion. I fixed my eyes on a spot on the whiteboard, a method I had mastered to trick teachers into thinking I was actually paying attention to their nonsense when I’d rather be daydreaming. My thoughts slipped back toward my plans for this evening. The third time had to be the charm, right? It wasn’t really my fault the first two attempts at wetting the bed had failed. The first night, I had simply been too tired. We’d had an exhausting soccer game that evening that had gone on to overtime, and we’d been shorthanded, so I hadn’t spent almost any time on the bench. I had fully intended to stay up past midnight but had used the excuse of being tired to back out of it. Instead, I let myself drift off to sleep without wetting the bed. During the second night, I’d managed to stay up until 1 a.m., but I had found it impossible to make myself pee. I simply hadn’t had enough to drink. I had considered simply pouring water on my bed, but I was worried that might not be convincing enough should my parents make a closer examination of my bedding. I could have snuck off for a glass of water in the kitchen and stayed up another hour, but again, I chickened out and pushed the plan off to another night. But tonight was going to be different. I was going to be drinking as much water as I could tonight, and I would skip going to the toilet before going to bed. Plus, tonight was Friday, which meant it was pizza night, so as long as I picked out a caffeinated soda, I should be able to keep myself up late enough for this plan to work. I realized that I was likely going to have to keep this up for multiple nights. One random night of bedwetting — after having never wet the bed since I had been potty trained at the age of two — wouldn’t be enough to convince my parents to take action. But if I could have the courage to keep it up long enough, they would have no choice but to purchase the pull-ups shown on the magazine page for me. I would make sure to leave that old magazine out in a way that would get Mom to see the advertisement. It was a desperate move, but I couldn’t wait any longer for the pull-ups. I knew from other advertisements I’d seen that these pull-ups were sold in stores. Had there been a store close by that I could bike to, I might have considered going out and purchasing some for myself on a day when I had been left at home on my own. But that wasn’t an option for me. I still had over three years to go before I would be old enough to get my own driver’s license. I had already waited three years for this. I couldn’t possibly wait three more. “Maddy. Earth to Maddy. Hey!” There was the sound of hands clapping together a single time. More laughter. I blinked rapidly, adjusting my gaze over to Mr. Thompson, where he was standing at the front of the classroom with his palms still pressed together from making the noise he had used to so rudely interrupt my daydreams. “Maddy, please just take one of the homework sheets and pass the rest behind you.” I looked straight ahead, where Chloe was holding a stack of papers with her arm stretched out toward me. She rolled her eyes at me as I grabbed them from her. In a rare moment of self-control, I did not stick my tongue out at her. I took one of the homework sheets and passed the remaining one behind me to where one of my two best friends was sitting. The three of us had initially been seated next to each other. But Mr. Thompson decided a few weeks into the school year that doing so was too much of a distraction. Emma, who had been seated to my right, was switched to the seat behind me. Angie, who had been on my left, had worse luck. Not only was she moved to the front of the class, but she had to sit next to Ryan, who had the disgusting habit of picking his nose in public. But that was OK. We’d have the whole weekend together. Tonight was the beginning of the playoffs for our U13 soccer team. We’d had a moderately successful season, meaning we’d managed to somehow win more games than we lost over the past several months. It was disappointing that the spring soccer season was so close to coming to an end, but we had the opportunity to keep it going this weekend if we could manage to string a few victories together. The bell rang as the final class of the week came to an end. Mr. Thompson belted out more instructions about the homework as I slid the piece of paper, with all its archaic symbols and equations, into my backpack. I’d just ask Angie and Emma later to see if there was something I’d missed in his instructions. I joined my two friends in the hallway. We all lived in the same neighborhood, so we rushed off to catch the bus together. They chatted excitedly about the game tonight, but I walked alongside them in silence. My thoughts were somewhere entirely else. My mind settled on the image of the pull-up I had held in my hand three years ago. The few minutes where I had examined it thoroughly, my fingers tracing over its whole surface. How it had felt to wear it for a couple of minutes before I was forced to set it aside, not knowing the opportunity was one I wouldn’t get again for years. Should everything go as planned, I would be wearing a pull-up again in less than a week. But to accomplish that, I needed to wet the bed tonight – on purpose. <><><> Three years ago If there was a single moment that perhaps best defined the last three years of my life, it was that day three years ago when it all began. The day I first laid eyes on a simple object that would become an obsession I would never be able to shake off. I didn’t cry at the funeral. I knew, intellectually, that this was what people were supposed to do. But even the sight of my aged great-grandfather lying in the open casket hadn’t moved me to tears. It wasn’t as though I wasn’t sad, but it was a more abstract kind of sadness. That kind that has someone thinking heavy thoughts about what happens after death, not that kind that leaves someone bawling on their knees. I had no memories of the man lying in the casket. My parents said I had met my great-grandfather three times. But I had been too young to have any memories of those visits. My older sister, Grace, on the other hand, was devastated. It was her first funeral as well. She had memories of her great-grandfather. The man in the casket was not an abstract concept to her, but the ghost of someone who had played with her and held her in his arms. Jackson cried as well, but that was just because he was a baby. You could never exactly tell what it was that they were upset about most of the time. The three-year-old boy likely just needed a nap. But the funeral home wasn’t where that pivotal event in my life transpired; it was merely marked the event that gave cause for all my distant relations – grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins – to join together from where they were all scattered across the country. The reception after the funeral was where the fateful moment occurred. The adults ate, drank, and smoked while kids split into playing games with others of their age. There was a cohort of preschoolers huddled around a TV, watching stupid kids’ shows. On the other end of the spectrum was a collection of angsty teenagers Grace had abandoned me to hang out with. They weren’t particularly welcoming of youngsters, and my normally friendly sister had shooed me off after I attempted to tag along with her. Not that I cared that much. Other than my sister, teenagers made me a bit apprehensive. Besides, there were a half-dozen other kids my age to hang out with. My mom introduced me to two boys shortly after we arrived at the house for the reception. One of them, Alex, was eight. Though he made clear he would be nine in a few weeks, which would make him as old as me. His younger brother, Timothy, was seven. The boys were distant cousins from half-way across the country. There was some technical term Mom used for exactly what type of cousin they were to me — second cousins, twice removed. That didn’t mean anything to me. All that mattered was that they were my age and more than open to finding some way to play in order to pass the time while the adults did whatever adults did. We hit it off immediately. We did what kids that age normally do. We fell into the habit of playing simple games with each other as if we had been friends all of our lives. The two brothers were staying at the house where the reception was being hosted, so it was only fair that they gave me a tour of the massive building. We explored the expansive backyard, winding our way through the adults in the garden until we were shooed away. We played in the basement for a while, which had foosball and ping-pong tables before the teens decided that was where they wanted to be hanging out instead. But there was still plenty of house to explore. Alex and Timothy led me up a winding staircase to some rooms upstairs, where they had been sleeping while their family stayed with the relatives who were hosting the reception. That’s when I stumbled across a stunning revelation. One that would shape my life for the next three years. Haunt my dreams. Hound my thoughts. Practically drive me crazy as I was often left incapable of thinking of anything else. There was something out-of-place sitting in the corner of the room on top of a pile of discarded laundry. I tended to usually say the first thing that came to mind without regard to whether it was socially appropriate to do so. I wasn’t any better at that at the age of nine. I pointed at a blue undergarment in the corner that didn’t exactly look like a normal piece of underwear. It was not as though I didn’t have a good suspicion of what it was. But I wanted confirmation. “What is that?” Timothy walked casually over to the corner and picked it up. “Oh, that’s my pull-up.” I looked at the item in his hand. He was seven. That couldn’t possibly be his. I felt sure I was the subject of some kind of joke. “Don’t be silly,” I said. “You’re too old to wear pull-ups.” “Older kids sometimes need to wear pull-ups,” he said, still holding the item in his hand. His defiance left me no less confused. I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that even fits you.” I hadn’t intended in any way to dare them to put the pull-up on. But that must be how that statement had come across. Alex snatched the pull-up out of his brother’s hand and tugged it on over his dress pants. “See,” he said. “It fits. We wear them ’cause we still wet the bed.” They were bedwetters. And they weren’t the least bit ashamed of it. That was at least a topic that I understood. I had no intention of teasing or bullying them. While neither my brother nor I were bedwetters, my older sister had wet the bed up until a year or so ago. Why hadn’t I put together a connection between pull-ups and bedwetting? Come to think of it. I wasn’t even sure if Grace had worn pull-ups during her bedwetting phase. She had her own room, which I was very much forbidden from going into, so if she had, there wasn’t any way I would have known about it. When I had first learned of my older sister’s predicament, my parents had sat down with me and calmly explained what bedwetting was and how I was to never shame or tease her about it. And given how privately they had handled her condition, and the fact that it hadn’t ever impacted my life at all, I truthfully hadn’t ever given her bedwetting much of a thought. Alex mistook my pensiveness while considering my sister’s bedwetting to mean that I was still confused about the topic. He launched into a long explanation with words like enuresis, explaining how bedwetting was just a medical condition that he and his brother would grow out of. “Do you wet the bed?” Timothy asked me. “No,” I replied. I came close to continuing my reply and accidentally outing my sister, but I would never do something that mean to her. Alex still had the pull-up around his waist, completely unconcerned with how silly it looked. The pull-up had a picture of Spiderman, my favorite superhero, on the front. I pointed that out, which led to another conversation about which Marvel superheroes we liked best. Timothy was big on Iron Man. But Alex insisted that Batman was better than any of them. My eyes kept glancing down at Alex’s waist. I found myself unable to look away from the pull-up for long. The sight of the pull-up around Alex’s waist raised another thought. That pull-up would fit me just as well. My distant cousin and I were both about the same size, after all. I didn’t question the desire to wear the pull-up. Once the impulse had taken hold of me, there was little else I could think of as I distractedly continued the conversation with my cousins. Our parents called us down for dinner. Alex ripped the pull-up off and tossed it back in the corner of the room before we retreated down the stairs. I was unable to concentrate during dinner. Alex and Timothy were across the table from me, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut about what I had just witnessed. I was filled to the brim with questions, most of which I would have to keep inside unless I were presented with another chance to have a private discussion with those two bedwetting cousins. But there was one question more important than any of them. One perhaps best answered on my own rather than by asking them. What did it feel like to wear a pull-up? While the adults were content to sit and chat around at the table long after their plates were clean, that wasn’t the case for us kids, and soon we were back to running around; Timothy, Alex, and I were joined by another four cousins. Big houses and hide and seek go hand in hand together. We agreed that hiding upstairs in the house was against the rules for the game of hide and seek. That meant that the upstairs room where the pull-ups were waiting for me was technically off-limits. But I didn’t care one bit about the game. Anyway, making the upstairs rooms off-limits had been my idea. An absolutely brilliant stroke of genius for a then nine-year-old girl. In one move, I’d ensured that no one would be up there when I went looking for the pull-up and that I would be safe from anyone following after me. I took quick glances in both directions as I stood at the base of the stairway. Perfect. There were no other kids in sight. I leaped up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time with each upward lunge until I was safely around the corner and out of sight. I encountered my first problem when I made it to the bedroom where Timothy and Alex had been sleeping. I had somehow assumed that the pull-up Alex had ripped off could be fixed. I seemed to recall that the pull-ups my brother had worn a year ago had Velcro sides. But that wasn’t the case with these bedwetting pull-ups for some reason. But there had to be additional pull-ups elsewhere. There couldn’t be any way that the boy’s parents would risk them peeing all over the bed while they were spending the night as guests. I didn’t have any luck in the first suitcase that I looked through, nor the second, but the third one was where I struck gold. There were more than a dozen pull-ups tucked into the side of the suitcase. Surely, they wouldn’t notice if one of them happened to go missing. I grabbed a pull-up and bundled the pull-up into a ball, tucking it into the waistband of my skirt. I was sure that was not nearly as discreet as I thought it was at the time. But, to my good fortune, I was able to make it to a nearby bathroom without being caught. The adults were busy downstairs, and my cousins, who were playing hide and seek, were doing a better job than I was at abiding by the rules. I locked the bathroom door behind me. I double and triple-checked to make sure the door was actually locked. I removed the pull-up from under my skirt and held it in my hands. I didn’t stop then to think through how bizarre the whole situation was at the time. I think I must have stood there looking at it for several minutes. Feeling how it crinkled beneath my touch, testing out the sides to see how far they could stretch, rubbing my fingers down the padded interior. I was completely and utterly fascinated by it. The desire was no more explainable than a moth being drawn to a flame, a kitten to catnip, or a raven to a shiny object. I cautiously slid my arms through the leg holes, stretching the pull-up out in front of me. Not only was it more than stretchy enough for me, but it could probably fit a kid twice as wide as I was. Now came the moment of truth. I removed my skirt and underwear. The pull-up had a side that was helpfully labeled as the back, so I knew which way to put it on. As I brought the pull-up into place around my waist, it was like sliding the final piece of a puzzle into place. I turned around so that I could look at my reflection in the mirror. I lifted up the front of my skirt so that the whole pull-up was in view. It practically came up all the way to my belly button. There was something about the way it hugged my sides, the way the soft padding pressed against my skin as I sat down on the toilet lid and the way it crinkled quietly as I paced across the bathroom that left me completely enamored. There was just one thing left to do. And I didn’t have much time before everyone noticed that I was missing. I lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and sat down while still wearing the pull-up. One of my deepest regrets was that I had went to go potty right before the game of hide and seek began, meaning there wasn’t anything waiting to come out of my bladder at the moment. I tried. I really did. I wanted to know. I had to know. What would it feel like to pee into a pull-up? It couldn’t be bad. Alex and Timothy hadn’t seemed to be put off at all by waking up in a wet pull-up every morning. But nothing happened. The timing was off. My bladder wouldn’t cooperate. And time was up. I needed to be out of the bathroom in a couple of minutes. I considered it a radical idea. What if I put my underwear and skirt over the top of the pull-up? I could continue to wear it until I actually needed to pee. I nearly did it. I really, truly, honestly nearly did it. But then I chickened out. The same way I would, time and time again for years afterward. It was too risky. A small trickle of shame was diluting my euphoria. I knew that despite how ecstatic I was at my discovery, the reality of anyone else discovering this secret — and the relentless shame and teasing that would follow — would be devastating. I wasn’t like Alex or Timothy. I didn’t have the veneer of bedwetting to hide behind as an excuse for wearing a pull-up. I slid the pull-up off of my legs. I intended to put it back in the suitcase. Then it would be like nothing had ever happened. That’s when I encountered a second problem. Apparently, I had gone potty in the pull-up after all. Not a lot, just the teensiest of tinkles. But it was enough to leave a tiny yellow patch the size of a quarter smack dab in the middle of the pull-up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I had even noticed it in the first place. That would have made for an awkward situation for Alex and Timothy had I put the pull-up back in the suitcase. I peered into the trash can. I was in luck. I could make out two pull-ups at the bottom of the small trash can. One had been turned inside out, the color of its interior leaving no doubt as to the truthfulness of Alex’s description of his and his brother’s bedwetting. I bunched up the pull-up and tossed it in the trash can. I didn’t think it was likely that anyone would be paying too much attention to notice the addition of one more pull-up in it. My curiosity sated, I returned to the game of hide and seek, pretending that I had been expertly moving in between hiding places to avoid being spotted. I didn’t think anymore about the pull-up until later that evening when we were lying in bed at the hotel. Jackson was little enough that he could sleep on a padded mat and sleeping bag on the floor while Grace and I shared a bed – an experience that hadn’t gone well the past couple of nights, as it had been interrupted by midnight accusation of blanket theft. If it had just been Grace and me in the room, if Mom, Dad, and Jackson hadn’t been around to overhear it, I might have worked up the courage to ask my older sister about her bedwetting. I wasn’t even sure if she knew that I knew about it. But I had to know. Had she worn the same pull-ups as Alex and Timothy? Was there perhaps a style that came in colors and designs for girls? But we weren’t alone, and those questions went unasked. The drive home wasn’t any easier. I didn’t touch my tablet, which had been my constant companion on the trip here. Instead, I stared out the window. But I wasn’t paying any attention to the passing cities and landscapes. Instead, my mind was replaying the events of the previous day, in particular, the few precious minutes when I had my hands on the pull-up. I was filled with a deep sense of longing and regret. Why had I thrown the pull-up in the trash? Why hadn’t I put it back on beneath my skirt? I would have had it with me now. I could have been wearing it now. Of course, I did know better. I would have had no issue wearing the pull-up out of the house, but once we had gotten to the hotel, there wouldn’t have been any realistic way for me to have kept it concealed. But the acknowledgment of that reality did nothing to lessen my longing for the pull-up. I had nothing but time as I began to scheme up all the different ways I could get my hands on another one, or better yet, an actual diaper. What would I have done if I had known the wait was to be measured in years rather than days, weeks, or months? --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/
  3. Five-year-old Lila is jealous of her baby brother always getting all the attention. But Lila's life changes forever when she discovers a mysterious diaper that will grant her every wish. How much fun can Lila have with unlimited wishes at her disposal? Chapter 1: Lila's Diaper Wish Five-year-old Lila woke up to the sound of her younger brother wailing in the other room. If she were to guess, he probably needed another diaper change. “Camden!” her mother shouted from the hallway. “Don’t worry. Mommy’s coming!” Lila sighed when she heard her mother get up just to dote on little Camden. He does this every night. His diaper gets wet and she takes care of it just like that. Her mommy keeps telling her that she is the big sister now. Three months ago, this was not the case. “I used to be the baby…” she whispered. “Now my little brother has to ruin it. He gets everything! I wish that my mommy would pay more attention to me!” Lila pouted as she buried her face back in the covers of her My Little Pony bed. Minutes later, she could make out the sound of her mom from the hallway walking back into the room. She stopped at the bathroom, turned on the light, and then turned it off after a few seconds. In mere seconds, Lila was fast asleep. Lila woke up with a gasp. She clutched her hands over her pajamaed groin and lept out of bed. She swung the door open and rushed a short distance down the hallway and into the bathroom. She turned on the light and closed the door. She lifted the toilet lid up, pulled down her pink pajama bottoms and Elsa and Anna Frozen underwear and sat down. She could hear the refreshing tinkle as the mesmerizing sound filled the whole bathroom. The sound reverberated for about 20 seconds. She smiled. I made it! She gasped again, siting up in her bed. Her Frozen underwear and pajamas were soaked. She pulled back the bedsheets. A large and saturated wet patch covered the area of the entire mattress. Lila’s face reddened and her face filled with tears. She got out of bed and rushed across the hallway. She quietly open the door and whispered with tears in her eyes: “Mommy! I peed the bed!” The mother stirred, and caught glimpse of the small silhouette standing by the door that was open just a crack. She let out a quiet sigh. “Lila dear, you wet the bed again. This is the third time this week, honey.” Lila’s face, which was now beet red, flooded with tears. “But I didn’t mean to, mommy! I had the dream where I…” “You had that same dream again? The one where you get up and go to the bathroom?” Lila slowly nodded, as she wiped more tears out of her eyes. She was now letting out hiccup sobs. The mother gave Lila a soft pat on the neck. “Here. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed. We’ll get you a shower, some dry underwear, dry pajamas, and some dry bedding..” Lila’s tears vanished, her hiccup sobs becoming less frequent. They were now just hiccups. The mother led Lila into the bathroom and instructed her to take off all her wet clothes. “I’m going to change your bedding.” the mother told her. “I’ll be right back to give you a shower, okay sweetheart?” Lila nodded as she removed her soaked pajama top. The mother left the bathroom to take care of Lila’s soaked bedding. Lila took her soaked pajama bottoms and then sighed when she took off her soaked Frozen Elsa and Anna underwear. It was sad to see both Elsa and Anna all wet from her nocturnal accident. After removing her underwear and piling it with the other wet clothes, she looked down at her princess parts, which still had just a little pee dripping off of it. She then noticed the door open just a crack that went to the waste bin. There was a faint light coming from it. She opened the door to the trash bin and found an empty white sleeve draped over the edge of the waste bin. that she knew came from her brother’s diapers. Her mommy must’ve thrown it away when she was finished with it. Having seen her brother’s room, she knew that the white sleeve came from a large box of Huggies Little Snugglers. They were size 1’s, since her little brother was only 3 months old. But then she saw the light again. It was a bright flashing light that came from inside the white sleeve. She glanced inside and noticed that there was an object that was flashing at the bottom of the plastic sleeve, since the one side was open but was sealed on the other side. She felt down to the bottom and gasped. Mommy forgot to use this diaper on my little brother! She stuffed it back in the trash and closed the door to the waste bin underneath the sink. The mother came back and led Lila to the shower. She undressed herself and entered the shower with Lila. They both showered together and the mother made sure that Lila got all of her parts really good. After the shower, they both dried off and the mother gave Lila a fresh pair of Elsa and Anna Frozen underwear and a pair of yellow pajamas, since pink and yellow were Lila’s favorite colors. The mother led Lila back to her room and pointed to her bed, which now had some fresh bedding. A Disney Belle and Cinderella comforter sat on the top with matching pillows. She then hugged Lila and smiled. “Try not to have that dream again, dear.” She got Lila underneath the covers and tucked her in. “You’ll grow out of it soon. Mommy used to wet the bed when she was your age.” Lila gasped. “You WET the bed?” The mother nodded. “I was a little girl, just like you and I had that same kind of dream. I wet the bed until I was seven, then I stopped after that.” Lila whimpered. “So I’m going to wet the bed for two more years?” The mother shook her head. “We don’t know that, sweetheart. Every child grows out of this at a different age. Try to get some sleep now. Good night, Lila dear.” The mother and Lila both nuzzled their noses together and the mother kissed her on the cheek. She then pulled the covers up to Lila’s chin and turned to exit her room. She flipped off the light switch and closed the door. Lila waited a few minutes for her mother to go back to bed. When it was all quiet again, she gently got out of bed and tip-toed across the floor. She quietly turned the knob until the door was open just a crack. Just enough for her to squeeze out of her room. She continued tip-toeing down the hallway and back to the bathroom. When she opened the door, sure enough. She could see the light glimmering from the crack to the door that was underneath the sink. With the lights off in the bathroom, she could see the light even more. She opened the door and reached into the trash bin. She pulled out the white sleeve and looked inside. She reached down and pulled out the source of light. Sure enough, it was a Huggies Little Snugglers diaper. But something was unusual about this one. It was flashing brightly like a night light. Lila held the glowing diaper and closed the door to the sink. She quietly left the bathroom with the diaper and went back to her bedroom with it. Very quietly, she closed the door and laid the diaper in the middle of the floor in her room. She then sat on her bed and scratched her head, trying to think of what to do with that diaper. Should she use it for a night light? It was glowing pretty bright and Lila was secretly afraid of the dark. Too afraid to tell mommy. But as Lila looked at the diaper more and more, she wanted to hold it again. So, she got out of bed and picked up the glowing diaper again. It was a size 1, and the most unusual diaper that she has ever seen. She has seen her mother change Camden’s diaper before and none of them ever glowed like that. As she held the diaper, she could feel the power flowing through it. At this, her thoughts returned to where they were earlier in the night. When Camden first woke her up. “My little brother gets everything!” Lila pouted. “Why don’t I get everything? I used to, before my little brother was born. I wish I was the little sister, instead of my brother! Then I would get everything! Everything would be good again…” The glowing diaper flashed, and just like that, Lila gasped. She removed her pajamas and underwear and stretched out the diaper, following just as she remembered her mother doing it with Camden. She laid down over the diaper and stretched the front over her private area. She peeled back the two tapes in the back and stretched them both onto the landing zone. At this, she gasped. This magic diaper actually fits? Then it hit her. She is once again an infant. That’s when she realized that she couldn’t move her legs. She can move her arms when she was on her stomach. She then glanced at her bed and almost started to cry, when she still noticed the bright glow coming from her diaper. Lila sighed. “Oh, I wish I could be laying in my bed!” And just like that, her entire body flashed and vanished from where she was helplessly on the floor. She appeared laying on her tummy on her bed. Her bed flashed and railings popped up all around, converting into a crib. A blinding flash sent her into a deep sleep. A bright ray of sunlight woke Lila up. Her mother entered the room, with the biggest smile on her face. “Ahh!” The mother cooed. “Did little Lila have a good night sleep? Here. Mommy’s going to get you out of your crib. Lila gasped. Sure enough, she was still an infant. And she felt so wet. A big mess was in there too. At this, her little body couldn’t take it anymore. She started to cry. The mother nodded, as she lifted Lila out of her crib and held her in her arms. “Don’t worry,” she told her darling daughter. “Mommy’s going to change you.” She then smelled a foul odor wafting from Lila’s diaper. “Hoo dear! You made quite a stinky! Here. Let mommy change you.” Lila glanced at the glowing diaper that she was still wearing. If mommy is going to change me, then I wish that the next diaper that mommy changes me in is a magic diaper like this one! Lila flashed and then giggled, as if the bright flash tickled her. The mother noticed her laughter and smiled. “Ah.” She cooed. “My little Lila is happy…” The mother laid Lila on a changing table. She unzipped her pink footed sleeper and unsnapped her white onesie. As she was about to take off Lila’s diaper, a voice made her turn around. “Mommy! I’m up!” The mother pivoted and noticed that it was Camden, in his green pajamas. Camden smiled when he glanced at his little sister. “How’s little Lila, mommy?” The mother smiled. “Lila’s a bright ball of sunshine this morning, Camden dear. Now, I’m about to change your sister’s diaper. It’s a very stinky one, so I don’t think you want to watch.” Camden closed his eyes and pretended to barf, making the barf sound. “Before you do that, I wanna thank you for not calling me a baby for peeing the bed last night.” The mother nodded. “You’re not. As I told you, I wet the bed when I was your age. Now, let me change your sister Lila’s diaper…” “Little Lila!” Camden said with a smile. He glanced down at his happy sister. Get into a clean one, okay? Mommy, I’m going to watch cartoons. Okay? I love Saturday!” Camden left the room, leaving the mother to take care of the important business with Lila. The mother opened up the tabs on Lila’s diaper and folded the front down. Just as she suspected, a large chunk of poo lay in the center, surrounded by the soggy liner. Lila glanced at her mother as she changed her diaper. One thing that she noticed was that she couldn’t see the glow coming from the diaper. Only she could see it for some reason. The mother lifted her out of the wet, stinky, and messy diaper and got out the wipes. She began wiping all the poo off of her diaper area. She wiped her frontal area really good and then laid Lila on her tummy to wipe all the poo out of her bottom and clean that area really good. Lila grinned as she reflected on seeing her brother in the room. Just as she wished, she was now the youngest again. And even better, she now has an older brother! The mother wiped everything one more time and rubbed some Aquaphor all over her daughter’s bottom, abdomen, and diaper area. Finally, she powdered her bottom and diaper areas with a few light pats. She opened up a brand new box of Huggies Little Snugglers. It was a huge pack with 180 diapers. She took the first white sleeve and tore the plastic along the top, exposing the rounded ends of all the new diapers. She pulled one out of the sleeve and held it. Right after she held it, it flashed brightly and began to glow. To Lila’s amazement, her mother couldn’t see the glow. Only she could see it. The mother laid Lila on the new glowing diaper and folded the front over her diaper area. She swiftly fastened both tapes to the center of the landing zone. Lila smiled, still in awe over the new glowing diaper that she had. Oh, I wish that every new diaper that I’m changed with is a magic diaper! No sooner did the words leave her thoughts when all of the diapers in that new opened sleeve began to flash and glow. Lila smiled, as her mother snapped up her onesie. So many wishes. Unlimited wishes. Her smile turned to laughter as she giggled with delight. Lila’s diaper wish came true.
  4. 21-year-old Jillian Jenners is down on her luck and accepts her younger twin sister Jennifer's invitation to stay with her at her cozy three-bedroom apartment in Philadelphia. Having just finished college and earned her degree, Jillian is still jobless and desperate to find a new start in her life. When Jillian begins to have her nighttime accidents, she turns to diapers as a solution to her embarrassing problem. A new opportunity presents itself when Jillian discovers the world of streaming and begins to build a sizable following. When a "wardrobe malfunction" happens during one of her streams, it further boosts her fame in the streaming community. Does Jillian keep wearing diapers to please her fans, or does she stop altogether? And what part does her twin sister Jennifer have in this whole story? Find out in this original tale of discovery, acceptance, and, of course, diapers. Foreward: The JJ Diaper Twins - How it all Started Hi! First of all, thank you very much for purchasing our book! I am Jillian Jenners (but you knew that already!). I am sure that you are all very much aware of me and my sister Jen. Whether you stumbled across our YouTube channel, our Tiktok, found us on Instagram, our Facebook page, X (twitter), JustForFans, or happened to catch one of our many exciting Twitch streams, you all know us as the JJ Diaper Twins. The two J’s consist of me, Jillian Jenners and of course my identical twin sister Jennifer Jenners. We are basically diapered celebrities and have even caught attention of the mainstream media. But how did it all start? That is just what this book is going to tell you. Consider this book as a biography of the lives of me and my twin sister getting our exciting start in the city of brotherly love: Philadelphia. Home of those delicious cheesesteaks, tastykakes, and tomato pies. My aim for this book is to very clearly tell all of you my story and how the JJ Diaper Twins even became a thing in the first place. Now, I am sure that some of you will want to come and bother us with requests to be our caregivers. Just to be up front, both I and Jen are already taken. We will take no requests, but feel free to support us on our Crowdfunder (the very reason why this book exists) or buy our branded pacifiers, bottles, bibs, blankets, stuffys, and clothing made for every one of you JJ Littles. We have footed sleepers, onesies, cute frilly dresses and skirts, shortalls, socks, changing mats, plastic pants, and even our very own line of diapers coming very soon! The JJ Cozy Crinklez (coming soon!) will be the comfiest, most absorbent diaper on the ABDL market. We assure you that these diapers are able to handle the most destructive floods that you can unleash on them. My sister and I agree that these diapers are the best ones that we have ever worn (and believe me, we have tried them all!). Keep supporting us through your donations as each donation helps to keep the cost of these diapers affordable and competitive with the other brands. We are working on getting proper supply channels so that you won’t be waiting too long for your next exciting order. The JJ Nighty Nites are just a little more absorbent and can handle the heaviest of your overnight super soakings. Jen and I have tried them a number of times before bed and we both agree that there has yet to be a leaky diaper. We are both excited to bring this new addition to our J&J Merchandise. We are also working on a documentary and our first show on CuriosityStream, so be on the lookout for that. Why CuriosityStream? This platform will grant us greater freedom to tell our story to all of you JJ Littles, without the restrictions that YouTube would place on us. Besides our current projects, I will get back to the most current project that we have just recently completed: this book. Both Jen and I would like to thank you for all your help and support for without it, we wouldn’t be the JJ Diaper Twins that you know and love today. Now, how will this book be structured? To get the full story, both Jen and I have devoted sections to this book to each tell our own story of how this all started. It’s a crazy story, but every bit of it is true. My story will be told first in “Jillian’s Story” so I would recommend starting with that one. Following that one will be “Jennifer’s Story” and everything there will be told from her point of view. The next section of this book will contain a thank you message from my twin sister, so don’t forget to read that before you get to the table of contents! This whole book has been a labor of love and we devote this book to every one of you who purchased it. So to all my JJ Littles out there, stay diapered! Live full, laugh long, play strong! Love You Always, Jillian Jenners July 21, 2028 Foreward: A Very Special Thankies to All of You! Hi hi everyone! I’m sure that you have all read my twin sister’s previous section. Knowing (and trusting) that you have, you know that we are both very excited that you have picked up this book to hear the full story of how Jill and I became the JJ Diaper Twins that you know and love today. So thankies very muchies for all your help and support! Prior to my sister Jill’s meteoric rise to fame, I was a CPA working at one of the leading CPA firms in Philadelphia: Conway, Phillips, & Associates. Prior to Jill’s fame, I provided her with a place to stay at my apartment. You all know the rest of the story, but the purpose of this book is to fill in all of those details in between my sister’s anonymity and our now shared fame that is celebrated by all the JJ Littles. I will be honest, everyone. I at first was hesitant to follow in my sister’s footsteps. Due to the stigma of this kind of lifestyle, I wasn’t at all comfortable to join my sister in all the facets of her lifestyle of infantilism. But after seeing all the benefits that she reaped and seeing the endless stress and anxiety that came from the continual demands of my CPA firm, the initial experience that I had with diapers proved cathartic to me. How did I go from my insistent reluctance to join my sister to combining with my sister to become one of the biggest names in the ABDL community? That is the purpose of this book. I will not reveal anymore, as you will have to read my side of the story (Jennifer’s Story) to get all of the replete details recounting the genesis of the protection that “changed” my life. I will be honest again. As a result of taking that padded red pill, it has cost me relationships that I will never be able to rekindle again. But as a result, I have a wonderful and supportive community of the most caring and loving people that I have ever met. At every meet and greet, you all have never ceased to amaze me with your kindness and support. My sister has already detailed you on our future projects, so that redundancy will be avoided here. Just know that we have both mutually discussed every project together and I (thanks to my stellar financial background) have reviewed everything financially before moving forward with each project. Each project benefits all of you, and is FOR every one of you lovely littles. As is this book that you are now holding. Consider this miniature tome a passion project conceived by both I and my twin sister (who I love with all my heart) Jill. We want to share with you the story on how we both became the JJ Diaper Twins. How we can now wear our diapers proudly everyday and help out our ever-growing family of JJ Littles. To satiate your curiosity, yes. Both Jill and I are fully diaper dependent now with no sign of ever returning to urinary or fecal continence. Also (as she already told you), we already both have wonderful caregivers that are sweet and wonderful to both of us. With that knowledge in your possession, please refrain from making any solicitations to be our caregivers. You are all a wonderful community and neither of us could’ve ever made it this far without all of you. To address the needs of both Little and Caregiver alike, my sister and I are in the process of creating a network to match you JJ Littles to a wonderful caregiver that will care for all of your needs. We want it to be a good system so we are taking our time on it. Please be patient. Whether you’re the little or the caregiver. Please be patient. Again I would like to say thankies very muchies to all of you! The movement that my sister started has allowed me to discover and fully embrace my inner little. A side of me that I prefer to keep mostly private, but for your sake show it every now and then. Remember. Littlespace is nothing to be ashamed of. It is therapy for every one of us to escape from the overwhelming difficulties and challenges of everyday life. Love every moment of that littlespace, but take care of those adult things that need to get done (ESPECIALLY if you don’t have a caregiver!) Well, my sister and I need to get this final draft to the publisher so all of you can see our curious and interesting tale from full anonymity to full blown ABDL stardom. It’s surprising, embarrassing, exciting, and rewarding. This experience has taught me so much, and I hope that it will teach all of you as well. I will close with the closing that both Jill and I use to close out our Twitch Streams that served as a foundation of Jill’s career: Live full, laugh long, play strong! Stay diapered, all you JJ Little besties! Love You All Sincerely, Jennifer Jenners July 21, 2028 I. Jillian's Story Chapter 1 : Down on my Luck Hi! I know that all of you already know who I am, but here it goes. In case any of you just skipped the introduction or for some reason have not heard of me yet, I will tell you again. My name is Jillian Marie Jenners. And before you’re left wondering, yes. The same Jillian Jenners that’s part of the Jenners Twins, or the nickname that’s more familiar in the community: the JJ Diaper Twins. I’m the one “J” and my twin sister Jennifer is the other “J”. We are identical twins, but we couldn’t be anymore different! Yes, we shared the same egg and womb at birth, but that is where the similarities end. And to address your comments on the tabloids and fake news, don’t believe any of the fake stories that the media conjures about us. None of it is true (as I’m sure that all of you already know). Their agenda is solely there to silence us and our cause. A cause that they for some reason see as a threat to their agenda. What? Do they not want us to share the spotlight with the other celebrities? It’s clear that the Hollywood Elites write all the rules of who stays and who goes in Hollywood and it’s very clear to them that a pair of ABDL twins are not allowed to have any of the spotlight as they want it all to themselves. What gives them the audacity to try to silence or cancel emerging icons representing a cause that they don’t even understand? They don’t want to, so they’ll make up fake stories to keep us from becoming stars. Well you know what, Hollywood? Your attempts are not working. Our movement is stronger than ever, and it’s about to tear down the walls of your Elitest club of yours. But anyway, I digress. Now for the most intense burning question that any of you ever gave me. And believe me. I hear this one every time when I stream with my twin to this day: “How did you and Jenny become the JJ Diaper Twins?” I get this question every single stream. Every. Single. Stream. Well, question no more my fellow JJ Little Besties! I am about to tell you everything. How my life was changed forever. How my sister’s video game console launched my career. How an embarrassing accident and mishap during a stream transformed my career. All of you are responsible for making my career the success that it is, and I thank every one of you. Now after I tell you everything, please help the mods in answering the question. All of you will have the answer now, and you’ll be able to share it with every person that doesn’t know about this story yet. So, you wanna know how Jillian Jenners (that’s ME!) went from a nobody to a big YouTuber and streaming celebrity? Hang on to your diapys (and make sure it’s a fresh one) and listen to my story. This is my humble beginning and I hope that it can inspire you from wherever you are to achieve your dreams and aim for the very best. How did I get into wearing diapers in the first place? To answer that question, we have to go all the way back to June of 2023. Yes. Five years to get to the very beginning. I was a fresh college graduate from Cleveland State University while my twin sister chose Penn State to get her Master’s Degree in Accounting and earn her CPA. Yes, we went to different schools. As I said earlier, we may be identical but we couldn’t be more different! It was only one month since I graduated. But since my sister was in an accelerated program (that, and she used all her free time to take extra classes), she graduated one year ahead of me and went on to earn her CPA license. She just celebrated her fourth month at Conway, Phillips, & Associates (one of the leading accounting firms in Philadelphia where she lives now). What was I doing? I was starving. My emergency fund was starting to dry up. My sister’s numerous scholarships (plus her firm paying for her Masters Degree while she interned there) got her a full ride through all of her college education. On the other hand, I was sacked with debt from the Bachelor’s of Science Degree in Communication that was doing nothing for me at the time. And my parents couldn’t help me with my schooling either since my sister and I came from a poor family. I mean, $145,000 in college debt? Everyone, all I did was cry that entire month after I graduated. Failed interview after failed interview. My grades were really good, but the market was competitive. Who would hire me as a news anchor when so many other candidates had better qualifications than me? Wasn’t the news station that I interned at in Cleveland good enough for all of you? Well laugh it up, because my sister and I are making more than all of you now! Five figures? Try seven! But seriously. The economic times were really tough in 2023 (and they still are now in 2028). After spending a solid month of dried-up job leads, failed interviews, and zero job offers, I drowned my sorrows with a pint of Mint Chocolate chip ice cream. It was my guilty pleasure, but the refreshing mint at least tried to sweeten my rotten month of failed prospects. I was crying in the kitchen halfway through my pity pint of minty goodness. “You still crying, Jill pill?” My roommate Natasha asked me. What else could I do? Everything that I tried led to a dead end. And now, I was about to run out of money… “Yes, I’m still crying!” I told her. “You would be too if you had over $100,000 in unpaid college debt and no job prospects…” Natasha placed her hand on my shoulder. I didn’t know why she did this, as it DEFINITELY didn’t make things any better. “Jill? I know that you’re going through a rough patch right now. I know that I can’t do much to help you, but do you have anyone else that can help?” I sighed as I repeated the question in my mind over and over. “Well, I know that my parents can’t help me,” I told her matter-of-factly. “I already told you that they’re poor. My sister on the other hand is in Philly, rolling in money from her CPA job…” “Just ask your sister!” Natasha told me. I ignored her and dug up another generous scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I shoved the heaping spoonful into my mouth in my futile attempt to numb the pain of my miserable existence. Why did I ever go to school to be a news anchor? Who would ever want to hear a loser like me? Besides, most of the candidates that got the job were men. So much for gender equality… The explosion of sweet mintiness filled my mouth and I quickly swallowed it. “My sister?” I said in a forlorn sigh. “She’s got her own life now! What would she want with me?” That’s when I heard a knock at the door. “Miss Jenners!” the voice boomed, sounding like a crotchety old lady. It was the landlady. My rent was due. Aw shoot! I thought I already paid it! I KNOW I did last month! “Your rent is due, miss!” the voice repeated. “$950! Do you have it?” I opened the door and sighed. “Mrs. Steinbeck, just one second…” I woke up my cell phone and opened my banking app. I checked the balance and my heart sank. $20.89. I only had $20.89 in my account! “Well, I do have $20.89…” I told the landlady, my sheepish voice beginning to choke. The landlady shook her head. “Cash dear. I need it all in cash. You have until tomorrow night to give me the money. Give me it or you will be evicted. I will seize all your property as collateral and will return it once the rent is paid in full. I WILL do this if you don’t have the rent tomorrow. Do I make myself clear, Miss Jenners?” “Crystal…” I choked. The landlady slowly but firmly closed the door. I then started crying again. Natasha looked at me and sighed. “Girl, I can give you $100, but I still need to pay for my half.” I half smiled when I heard her say “girl”. This was a Natashaism and her favorite word to use before beginning a sentence. I guess it’s more common with her being from the Dallas-Fort Worth Area of Texas. I have nothing against any of you Texans (your accent is AMAZING!). It’s just that my accent is very boring compared to yours. And Natasha’s accent was Texas Golden. I grabbed my pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream (which was now starting to turn into a melty mess) and began to shovel the next melty mouthful. Natasha opened her purse and pulled out five 20-dollar bills. She firmly placed the money in my hand and gestured me to place my spoon down. “Set your ice cream down and look at me.” Natasha said firmly. “Both eyes, Jill…” I fixed my gaze on Natasha and ran my fingers through my brown hair. Okay. I’m staring at her. What now? “And stop playing with your hair!” she ordered. “I need you to act like a proper lady.” Proper? Lady? What is this, finishing school? I let go of my hair and sighed, placing both hands to my side. “Okay. No nervous fidgets or stims. What?” Natasha smiled, happy that I have her undivided attention. “Take the money. You need it, girl…” There she goes with that “girl”, again! Even after a year of living with her, I’m still not quite used to it… “Now,” Natasha continued. “You told me that your sister is ‘rolling in money from her CPA job’…Why don’t you just ask her for help? She’s your sister and I’m sure that she would love to help you if she knew that you were in need. She seems like a pretty cool girl, too. I saw you two at graduation…” “Yeah,” I muttered. “She visited me a month ago to watch me graduate. At least my parents congratulated me over the phone…” Natasha nodded. “She seemed pretty nice, though. You’re both twins, right? You get along with her?” I slowly nodded. “Yeah. We both grew up together! Then we grew apart during college…” “But she visited you! Your sister actually cared enough to fly from Philadelphia all the way to Cleveland to watch you graduate. Girl, don’t you think she still cares?” I folded the $100 and stuffed it in my pocket of my grey jogging pants. I then shoved another now liquidy spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream in my mouth. “My sister only did that as a polite gesture,” I told her. “If she really cared, wouldn’t she check in on me now and then?” Before I could even finish saying the word “then”, my cell phone vibrated with the song “Shallow” playing. (This song was both I and my sister’s favorite song in high school) The caller ID read “Jen” with a picture of her happily smiling below it. At this moment, I totally lost it. I began crying again. Knowing that my sister has heard me cry many times, I answered the phone. “Hello?” “Are you crying again?” Jen asked me. “I just wanted to check in on you since it’s been a couple weeks now. Now what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I sighed. “I thought that you didn’t care! Didn’t you just visit me as a polite gesture?” “Aw Jill…” she said in a voice that seemed to explode with sympathy. “You know that my level of concern for you far exceeds what you may think it does. Now I visited you last month because I love my twin sister and that’s what loving sisters are supposed to do.” “Why didn’t mom and dad come to the graduation?” I asked her. “Jill, we already discussed this. They didn’t want to come to your graduation. They didn’t come to mine either. I offered to pay both times, but they refused my offer. I don’t know what they have against either of us. Despite that being the case, we have to love them back. After all, they were the ones that raised us!” I sighed. “I think it’s the money…We’ve always been poor…” “But look at us, Jill! We both have college degrees and I am now on my fourth month at an amazing accounting firm.” “So you’re just going to gloat about your new job? Jen, I thought you were going to check up on me!” Natasha gasped and left the room. I guess she wanted to give my sister and I some privacy. Thanks I guess? “Jill, I am not gloating. I am very happy about the success that I achieved. And I want you to be happy about your success too! You graduated Magna Cum Laude from Cleveland State University!” “Sis, you graduated Summa Cum Laude! A year ahead of me with a Masters that your cushy accounting firm paid for. That same firm that you interned at! And now you got a cushy job there! Meanwhile, I am having failed interview after failed interview. They are favoring men over me! I guess an anchorMAN is better than an anchorwoman, huh? I thought we were past all the sexist crap…Besides…” I lost it again and burst into tears. “Jill, you’re crying again! What is pulling you into despair?” “What is pulling me, Jen? I’ll tell you!” I raised my voice. “My landlord…um lady…knocked on the door and wanted the rent tonight. I thought that I paid it! But it looks like that I didn’t. $950! I checked my banking app. All that I had was $20.89. She didn’t want it. She wanted it all in cash. Now if I don’t give her the money tomorrow, she will evict me and seize all the belongings in my apartment. She will only return them once I pay the rent in full. So go back to your perfect life!” “Perfect? Jill, you have no idea of the tribulations that I experienced today. Work was very stressful…” “Work? It must be a lot of stress to make all that money…” I sarcastically retorted. “You’re absolutely right Jill! It is! Now, I had no idea of the financial turmoil that you’re going through. And before you reiterate your crackpot sexist theory back to me, I have the perfect rebuttal. On four out of the five local news channels that I perused, I saw women news anchors. Not men, Jill. Women! You need to come out here, Jill. The northeast is more progressive and liberal. They don’t see any glass ceiling for us. Plus, most of the CPA’s that I work with are women. There are a few men in our group, though.” “So, how do you propose I come out?” I whined. “Earth to Jen! I’m broke! I have $145,000 in college debt and owe the landlady $950. How do you expect me to come out there with a plane ticket to move to Philadelphia. And the other problem would be a place to stay. Now, where would I stay.” “Jill, you would stay with me! My apartment is a 3 bedroom. I’m not using the other two rooms for anything. They are still empty. Okay. Not quite. Just a few of my extra belongings…I will take you in. You need to get out of Cleveland!” I sighed as I looked at the Mint Chocolate chip ice cream. “Just two more problems, Jen. One: my rent. And two: a plane ticket to Philadelphia? Now my roommate had pity on me and gave me $100, but that’s not going to be enough for either expense.” “Jill, just let me help you! I will pay for your rent and your plane ticket. I will buy a round trip ticket for me and a one-way ticket for you. You’re going to get a job out here, Jilly Bean. I will be out tomorrow afternoon, with $950 to pay your landlady for another month. Sound good?” I was now crying my eyes out. I never knew that my sister could be so loving and kind! “Oh, thank you!” I joyfully weeped. “You don’t know how much this means to me…” “Oh, but I do Jill!” Jen told me. “I’m your twin sister, remember? We’re two halves of one whole. I could feel that something was wrong with you tonight before I called you. That’s a twin thing. It’s like having a best friend, only waaaaaay better…See you tomorrow! Love you!” “Love you, too.” I told her. The call ended and I wiped the rest of the remaining tears out of my eyes. I then guzzled the rest of the thick and syrupy mint chocolate chip ice cream liquid and wiped off the sticky residue with my hands. Natasha came out of her room and smiled. “I heard some of the conversation but not all of it. Now girl, look at me again…” Well, I’m in a better mood now. So okay…I looked at Natasha and stared at her. “Yes Natasha?” “I was right!” she told me. “Your twin sister really does care about you and love you! And she just proved it!” She then proceeded to pat me on the shoulder. “It looks like the good Lord is looking out for you…” I shrugged my shoulders. I guess he is…I dug into my jogging pants pocket and pulled out the $100. “Do you need this back? My sister is paying my rent tomorrow and taking me to Philadelphia to live with her.” “Keep it!” Natasha pleaded. “It’s the least that I can do in your situation. Now, are you just going to have ice cream for dinner? I can order us some food. You don’t have to pay me. I got this, girl…” I nodded. “Thanks Natasha.” The rest of the evening was okay. Natasha ordered a pizza with my favorite toppings. They happened to be her favorites, too. Either that, or she was just being nice. A supreme pizza cooked to perfection. We were both so hungry that we ate all but two slices. As I was finishing my last slice, Natasha gave me that stare again, so I stared back. “Jill,” she addressed me. “Or Jillian?” “Only my mom calls me that,” I sighed. “Jill is fine…” “Jill then…” Natasha continued. “It was very nice having you as a roommate. Granted we were busy and we didn’t see a lot of each other, but I wish you the best. I have an interview in Columbus next week and if I get the job, I’m moving down to Columbus. This apartment will be vacant again. You will have to sign a release and pay another fee to get out of your lease early. I believe that our lease doesn’t come up until August.” “I will just have my sister pay it,” I told her. “I don’t want to take advantage of her, but I’m broke right now…Oh. Good luck on that interview! I hope you get it!” Natasha smiled back at me. “Thanks Jill Pill!” “Ha…” I grinned. “I can remember a few friends in high school calling me that…” To those of you still following the story, not much more happened that evening. I shed my t-shirt and jogging pants and slept in my bra and panties. And I just…slept. Yeah. That’s it. if you think you’re going to get more information than that reader, sorry. This is my story, and I will spare some of the unnecessary details, like my snoring or anything else that you don’t need to know about. You’re probably wondering “Jillian, when are you going to get to the diapers?” Doncha worry, my little besties. I will get to how I started wearing them very soon. I just needed to get to my departure from Cleveland first. I can actually remember sleeping really well that night. I felt so happy that my sister really cared about me. But finding a job was something that I really needed to do. Now my sister TOLD me that female anchors were more common in Philadelphia. I closed my eyes and fell asleep, hoping that she was right…
  5. I feel like this has been done in a story before but if so, I can’t find it. It’s set in the 80s, which isn’t important, except my inspiration was a vintage huggies ads. Full disclosure - as with my other story, this was written with the assistance of a LLM. Chapter 1 In the heart of a bustling suburb in the early 1980s, a spirited six-year-old girl named Lucy lived in a modest, warmly-lit split-level house adorned with the typical decor of the era. With bright eyes and an ever-present smile, Lucy’s imagination turned the family’s backyard into grand stages and faraway lands. She was an only child, the apple of her parents' eyes, and the center of their world. Peter, Lucy’s father, was the quintessential working man of the '80s, spending long hours in an office filled with the hum of typewriters and the scent of fresh ink. Despite his busy schedule, he never missed one of Lucy's impromptu living room performances, cheering the loudest from the comfort of their floral-patterned couch. Anne, Lucy’s mother, had the air of grace and patience about her. As a stay-at-home mom, she dedicated her days to raising Lucy, who she saw as a bright star just waiting for her chance to shine. Anne’s friends were part of a social circle that buzzed with tales and tips about the entertainment industry, and it was through them she learned the power of child modeling as a stepping stone to acting. The path seemed clear, and Anne, with her resourceful nature, started to gather information on local modeling agencies that worked with children. She transformed their dining table into a strategic planning area, with phone numbers, agency pamphlets, and lists of upcoming auditions. Anne and Peter believed in nurturing Lucy's dream. They saw her not just play pretend, but transform with a conviction that seemed well beyond her years. Lucy’s delight in performing was evident; whether she was reciting lines from popular commercials or mimicking her favorite TV characters, her enthusiasm was infectious. As the neighborhood buzzed with the sound of kids playing and the chirp of crickets, the little family of three began to envision a world beyond their white picket fence—a world where Lucy’s name lit up marquees and her laughter echoed in the applause of adoring audiences. Little did they know, a simple trip to the grocery store would soon open the door to Lucy's first big break, an opportunity hidden within the pages of a magazine lying casually on the checkout counter. — As Anne stood in line, her eyes fell upon the glossy pages of a parenting magazine. Between the tips for toddler meals and the best pre-schools, a small advertisement caught her attention: a casting call from the renowned Kleenex brand, seeking children aged 2 to 4 to model for a new line of diapers. The ad noted that older children were welcome to apply, though it stressed the desire for a child who embodied the brand’s target demographic. Anne’s mind raced. Lucy, with her petite frame and youthful features, often received coos and adoration meant for a toddler. Though she was six, her small stature could be the key to fitting the casting call's unique requirements. Anne purchased the magazine, the pages soon to be adorned with sticky notes and highlighter marks. That evening, she discussed it with Peter over dinner, Lucy animatedly sharing stories from her day in the background. Peter nodded thoughtfully, his features lit by the warm kitchen light as he turned to glance at Lucy, who was blissfully unaware of the budding plan. It was a long shot, but one worth taking. The weekend was spent in a flurry of activity. Anne sorted through the countless snapshots of Lucy, finding those candid moments where her vivacity shone: Lucy grinning with chocolate ice cream smeared across her cheeks, her concentration while drawing, her infectious laughter as she played in the fall leaves. Each photograph was a vignette of Lucy's essence, and together they built a portfolio that captured not just her likeness, but her spirit. Peter wrote a cover letter, concise yet brimming with a father's pride. He described Lucy’s vivacious personality, her love for performance, and her unique situation of being a six-year-old who could pass for three. With hopeful hearts, they mailed the portfolio to the address listed in the magazine. Days passed, the regular rhythm of life resumed, but a current of anticipation hummed in the background. Every ring of the phone caused a jump, every trip to the mailbox was filled with a mix of dread and excitement. Anne and Peter tried not to speak too much of it, not wanting to build false hopes. Yet, in the quiet moments after Lucy had been tucked into bed, they allowed themselves to dream, to wonder. The waiting was a gentle ache, the kind that comes from wanting something so fervently for someone you love. And so, they waited for a reply that might change everything. — The letter was thorough, providing dates, times, a location in the city, and contact numbers for any inquiries. It emphasized that wardrobe would be provided, ensuring that Lucy would be outfitted in a way that best represented their brand during the audition. The words seemed to leap from the page, igniting a flicker of excitement and a rush of nerves. That night, after Lucy had been read her favorite bedtime story and had drifted off to sleep, her parents sat at the kitchen table, the letter between them. Anne bit her lip thoughtfully. "I wonder what they’ll have her wear," she mused. "Something comfortable, I hope. She’s at her best when she’s comfortable and can just be herself." Peter nodded, sipping his coffee. "Probably something colorful, to catch the eye. You know how she loves that red dress of hers? Something like that would suit her," he suggested, trying to picture his little girl in the bright lights of a professional photoshoot. Anne smiled softly, her mind painting pictures of Lucy, perhaps in a pastel dress, her hair in soft curls, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "They’ll want her to look angelic, like every parent’s dream of the perfect child," she said. The two of them talked late into the night, discussing logistics and the subtle flurry of what-ifs. But underlying all their practical plans was the shared wonder at the notion of Lucy, their Lucy, possibly becoming the new face for a national brand. — The morning of the audition, the city was abuzz with the kind of energy only a big event could generate. Lucy, clad in her favorite red dress, clutched her mother's hand tightly as they approached the venue, her eyes wide at the sea of families. The queue snaked around the building, a colorful parade of potential stars, each child bubbling with anticipation or fidgeting with impatience. Peter and Anne exchanged supportive smiles, bolstering their spirits against the tide of nerves. When their turn came, the check-in attendant handed them a package of Huggies diapers and a Huggies-branded towel, explaining the somewhat surprising instructions. Around them, the open space had transformed into a makeshift changing area, with parents adeptly preparing their toddlers for the spotlight. Anne's maternal instincts bristled at the idea of changing Lucy in such a public setting. Peter’s brow furrowed in concern, but they understood the reality of the situation — they were one of many, and the audition was a machine with little room for privacy. Finding a relatively quiet corner, Anne laid down the towel with a gentle assurance to Lucy, whose initial bravery wavered. "It's just like getting ready for a swimming lesson," Anne coaxed softly. Lucy, sensing her parents' unease, nodded, a mature understanding flashing in her young eyes. With a privacy shield formed by her parents, Anne quickly changed Lucy into the diaper, her movements as discreet and swift as possible. Once ready, Lucy stood up, the Huggies diaper fitting perfectly on her small frame, her red dress now folded neatly on the towel. Peter draped a light jacket around her shoulders, offering a semblance of privacy, and Lucy managed a small, brave smile. As they waited for Lucy's turn, her parents couldn't help but marvel at her composure, the way she handled the situation with a grace that belied her six years. The air was electric with the murmurs of onlooking parents and the soft cooing directed at the younger children, but Lucy stood out — not just for her age, but for the poise with which she carried herself, her eyes shining with the promise of what was to come. In the bustling atmosphere of the audition, with the murmur of voices and the occasional click of a camera shutter forming a backdrop of anticipation, Lucy felt a growing discomfort that had nothing to do with the nerves of performing. Shifting from one foot to the other, she finally leaned closer to Anne and whispered, "Mom, I need to pee."
  6. A friend gets shrunk down to doll size by his friend. She decides to humiliate him and punish him in so many humiliating ways. Using him as her new toy.
  7. Lila on a family vacation This started as an English writing - training project for me. I have to give credit to the original Story “Lila’s family vacation” from Reatykeuniverse for the idea, the plot, and the beautiful name Lila that I used as a starting point. The first chapters are more like a close-bound rewrite with a lot of added sections in the middle, while the later parts just stick to the basic plot and do not have a lot in common with the original. This is the first part (apx. 6000 words) of the story that is already finished and has apx. 46000 words. While correcting takes a lot of effort for me due to my problem with reading and seeing spelling errors, it will take about two weeks to finish a chapter. So please be patient, I will try my best not to keep you waiting. Even though this is not my first story, I do a lot of writing in German, but it is my first story in English. I put a lot of effort into correcting all the grammar and spelling errors and hope there are not too many left to spoil your reading experience. I welcome any constructive feedback on my writing style, grammar and spelling, but please add as much information as possible, so I can improve. And I would also love to hear if you liked the story. If you want to know more, I just opened an intro thread in the nursery Annie's Intro ### Chapter 1 - Traveling - Discover what seemed to be lost. "Mum really, why do I have to wear diapers again?", complained Lila. "Hey honey, we are never going to force it if you don't want to," replied her mum Maria, "but you always wore them for the last years on our vacations, and it always made our trips a lot less stressful, for all of us?” She struggled with her decision while her mum placed the bag on her bed. This bag was clearly designed to appeal to a nurse in a retirement home and did not charm the little girl into the decision to wear them on the trip. As Lila stared at the colorful sheets of her bed, she felt the conflict in her. She was not eager to wear anything other than her panties. And all of her classmates in school would surely throw such a big tantrum that her parents would not dare to mention these diapers ever again. On the other hand, her mum was right, she wet the bed at least sometimes, and for some seconds she remembered how this unusual habit started for the now teenage girl. Whenever her parents could get some days off work, the family went on a trip together, and her mum used to put her girl in pull-ups just before they were leaving. All this started when Lila had a wetting accident when the family was on a city trip to Berlin when she was seven. It was the first year when she finally managed to stay dry during the day and at the packed museum, the line to the toilet was way too long for the young girl to hold it. Lila was in tears and did not want to leave the bathroom anymore, and her mum needed all her mummy magic to cheer the little girl up and get her ready for the rest of her day. To protect her from embarrassing accidents and to make it easier for her child, Lila, and her parents decided to keep her in the pull-ups she still wore for bed-wetting just in case during the day for the rest of the city trip. This worked so well that from there onwards, it became a secret family tradition for the little girl to be in pull-ups whenever they went on a vacation. In all those years, Lila didn't mind wearing pull-ups on occasions like this. She still wore them to bed at night, and wearing them on vacations during the day gave her back some kind of security. She even peed in them when she did not want to rush to the next restroom or was on the road. But now she is thirteen! Nearly a grownup woman in her eyes. And to her dismay, her mum got her tape diapers designed for a senile granny, instead of the slightly embarrassing but at least funny-looking pull-ups. Furthermore, she could slide down these bed-wetter's pants easily on her own when she headed to the bathroom. Lila had indeed outgrown her pull-ups, they did not fit her properly and on the rare occasions she wet the bed they hardly prevented the wet stains on the sheets. So the last time she'd worn them on a trip, her mom had decided to switch to diapers when she was not sleeping on her well-protected bed at home. While she still stared at the bag, Lila was obviously hesitant to wear ugly full-tape diapers, especially at her age. But after recalling her last wet night which was not even one week ago and that she probably would sleep on the plane, she ultimately decided to go with the diapers, just to be safe. "Fine..." she gave in, still trying to look serious, "But this is the last time I swear, and it will be just for the flights and when I sleep!" "You are such a responsible girl.", Maria praised her daughter, leaving her confused about what could be responsible in using diapers. "Please lie down, honey. So we get your diaper on you." Still, in her thoughts, Lila was obeying Mom's instructions sheepishly, took off her skirt and underwear, and laid herself on the soft bed while she noticed the crinkling of her mattress protector as she squirmed and twisted. "Can you put your bottoms up, please." her Mom patiently asked, not wanting to embarrass her girl more than necessary by just lifting her legs with her arms. And she unfolded a plain white fabric and laid it under her daughter's bum. Lila was weirdly feeling comfortable as she put some cream and powder on her before she taped the diaper in place and adjusted the leak guards. "We're all done, and you are ready for your vacation!" Her mum smiled at her. "Do you want to check that you have everything, we have to leave in fifteen minutes." ### Lila was in her thoughts for most of their trip to the airport. And when they arrived, Mum even needed to hold her hand because she was still daydreaming. However she looked at it, the diaper that she wore did not feel uncomfortable. She even liked the soft material that hugged her and that was wiping away all her worries. With the ease of her mind, she dreamed about all her past vacations where she was young and free. In retrospect, she had a really great childhood. Her parents were always there for Lila, and one of the reasons why she did not mind wearing her Pull-Ups in the past was that her parents did not make a big thing out of it when she had a small uppsie accident in them. After the family got their baggage checked in, they still had time to spare before heading for the gate, so they sat on one of the benches to wait and relax. Lila was exhausted from walking through the endless corridors and for a brief moment wanted to sit on her mom's lap as she did countless times in the past, but instead, she sat next to her, suddenly feeling her need to pee. "Mom," she secretly whispered, mindful that they were in a crowded airport, "I need to pee really urgently." “Oh, right now, can't you hold in any longer?” she replied searching for a bathroom while only seeing a corridor packed with endless shops offering their expensive and often useless duty-free stuff. As a young preteen child, Lila didn't mind using her pull-ups, especially when there was no clean bathroom nearby. She leaned on Mum's side, trying to get comfortable with all the people around. “This was much easier on our last trip”, she commented with a sigh. At the same time, she was getting ready to accept her daughter's wish to head to the bathroom whenever possible. “No mummy, I don't want to, my feet are hurting!”, Lila confessed. Wishing she had not protested against her parent's request for her to be diapered and unaware that her mum now could easily read the trouble of her little girl's mind like an open book "You know, I don't mind if you use your diaper, honey. I am sure it will hold up fine.", her mom carefully suggested, while at the same time easing her girl with her hand. For some seconds, Lila thought about that option out of her dilemma. Her parents put her in actual diapers, and that is what they are for, aren't they? Vaguely, she remembered the moon and the stars that promised a dry night on the package. It would soak up everything, she assured herself, while on the other hand remembering the good old days when she just peed in the pull-ups whenever she had to go. Once, she nearly let her mum talk her into going poopy, because they were in a subway with no bathrooms available. On that occasion, she finally made it to a stinky metro bathroom, and she also remembered that she wished she had any other option as it was so gross and dirty. However, this was completely different in her eyes. She just wet the bed in her sleep and the toilet was surely just a short distance away and perhaps most importantly, even when she was small for her age she was a teeny now. Her mum noticed the still ongoing fight in her girl's mind. “Don't worry, little one. Just go pee if you need to, that is what you wear them for. And it will be our secret, I promise”, she heard her mother, laying her arm on her daughter's shoulder. Was it really so strange for her to wet her diaper, she questioned her belief. Her mum just had given Lila permission to use it when she needed to pee. And the diaper felt so soft and comfy, it could not be that bad, could it? First slightly squirming, Lila tried to release the pressure on her bladder, but it was quite difficult to do so deliberately, especially sitting on a bench in a crowded airport. This time she obviously pushed, pressing her eyes together as she slowly was able to squeeze out a few drops. “It is quite hard if you are not used to it, do you want to sit with me, it makes it easier.”, her mum promised. Lila switched over to the welcoming lap, suddenly noticing the difference. Without the hard surface she was sitting on, the next push gradually grew into a steady flow, making her crotch warm and squishy for a second. She hardly could stop peeing until her need was gone, and she felt dry and comfy again. Mom had taken notice of the growing warmth on her lap and had figured out what was happening. "Are you done wetting?" she asked with a motherly smile. Still a little embarrassed but glad she had the urgent need off her mind, Lila nodded in response. "The shop assistant assured me, it will keep you dry even if you have to go pee another time. But are you still feeling comfy and dry?" asked her worried Mom as discreetly as possible. For a second she forgot she was in public, squeezing her thighs together and checking the now not-too-obvious bulge between her legs. Not bad she had to admit, it was warm and still soft but not wet as her old pull-up would have been. "I'm good.", said Lila as she decided to not switch back to her own seat and was slightly thankful that her mum talked her into wearing a diaper again. Actually, Lila thought the warm feeling of her wet diaper was quite pleasant. She could tell that she had peed quite a bit into her babyish underwear, but these diapers were more absorbent than her old bed-wetters pants, and they could definitely hold a lot more. Maybe she was hesitant when arguing that she did not need the diapers on the trip. And she had to admit that wetting herself was still a big stress relief for her on this busy transit through the airports. As the minutes passed, their flight was announced over the speakers and Lila's family made their way to the crowded boarding gate. “You should finish your bottle”, her dad reminded her about the half a liter of sparkling water in her hands. Lila took a sip, as she noticed she had to pee again. I am already wet, she thought and as she only pushed a little, she was surprised how easily she started wetting. “Lila, we better change your diaper before we board the plane, don't we honey?”, suggested her Mom, as she spotted a toilet with a baby changing symbol added to the women’s bathroom. “You know, having to change your diaper on the plane would be a nightmare and very obvious.” Without trusting her diaper too much, she agreed with Mom that a change in the plane would be better avoided. After placing their bags with Dad, Mom took Lila to the toilet. There was a changing table, but it was just made to change a baby, and it was way too small to accommodate Lila. But upmost importantly, it would have been incredibly embarrassing for the small but still teenage girl, so instead they headed to one of the empty stalls together. Her Mom shut the door, “Can you lift your skirt for me, please.” Lila shyly raised her skirt, revealing the yellow-tainted diaper. “It was a good decision we switched you to diapers”, explained Mom, as she removed the tapes, letting the sodden diaper suddenly fall on the floor with a ‘plop’. “Your pull-ups would have been leaking long ago”, she concluded. “Now, do you still need to go potty?” Yes, Lila did feel a very light need to go, but using her diaper was not as bad as she thought, and she slowly began to regret that she was so determined to not use them on the trip. At least she could be using them on the flight and avoid the smelly dirty places they surely used as toilets here as well, she was making her decision. “No, I’m fine, Mom.”, Lila replied as she remembered how disgusting the toilets in public always were. “Sure honey.”, her mum smiled again. She cleaned her darling with a couple of quick wipes, unfolded the fresh diaper, and taped it on her daughter as if she never stopped doing it. Lila let go of her skirt and enjoyed the dryness of her underwear for a second. A wet diaper did not feel uncomfortable at all, but the feeling of a fresh and clean one felt pretty nice as well. “Let's go on a vacation” her Mom cheered, as she rolled up her sodden diaper, throwing it in the bin. While Lila was in a daydream about what just happened, she stepped out of the stall and followed her Mom. ### “Honey, good morning, we have just landed.” whispered her Mom as she gently kissed Lila awake. Opening her eyes, the girl slowly began to sit upright, rubbing all the sleepiness out of her face while stretching her legs. Yes, it was a good flight, she loved the thrill of takeoff and enjoyed the view over the clouds while she was taking advantage of the drinks and snacks they delivered. Eventually, all her adventures of the day caught up with the young girl, and she had fallen asleep with a smile for the rest of her flight. Now, as she stretched and wanted to get up, she noticed the slightly damp and warm feeling in her crotch. She indeed used her diapers two times on the transit when she had to go, and she was glad that Mum had not said a word about the not-too-small amount of soda that she downed. Feeling awake and ready to explore now, Lila glanced around the plane, noticing that most of the passengers had already disembarked and were on their way to the luggage claim. She did not want to wait any longer, as her dad was busy getting their bags from the overhead compartment. And in a moment her daughter was up on her feed waiting for her day bag and ready to start their vacation. As she was on her feet, she noticed her soaked diaper sag a little and the bulge between her legs was quite visible now if you knew it was there. She checked the back of her skirt for leaks and surely was relieved that everything still was dry For a second she wondered, whenever she had used her pull-ups it never felt this heavy. But this diaper had kept her dry and could handle a lot more than her old bed-wetters pants. As they followed all the signs to the baggage claim, Lila's belly started to feel uncomfortable, and she eventually had to go to the bathroom soon. Seeing that her parents were in a bit of a rush, she paid no mind to the ache and focused on keeping up with their pace. After arriving at the baggage claim, Lila went to grab a trolley while Mom and Dad waited at the conveyor belt for their bags. She pushed the trolley forward and joyfully jumped while rolling with it for some meters when she noticed the need to go suddenly coming back. But her parents looked so busy in the hustle and bustle of the airport, and she did not dare to raise her voice. Obviously, her only option was to tell Mom to take her diaper off for her to go to the restroom. But as she thought about that stinky room, she got a slight feeling of nausea in her throat. Actually peeing in the diapers saved her from this unpleasant experience on the transit through the airports. And now that she realized that this need would not be solved in such a quick but also childish and embarrassing manner, the worries that were so distant returned. Her mum sometimes offered her to just go when she was at the edge of having an accident and even if that was some years ago, she had to admit that her current underwear was made with that kind of accident in mind. And she even wore full tape-on diapers and was not in pull-ups now. Little kids and Babies do that all the time, don't they? She even remembered the adults talking about kids on the edge of potty training, just putting a diaper on when they needed to poop. It cannot be that uncomfortable. She was wondering what it would be like to go poopy in her diaper. And while the idea settled into her mind, she even got a little curious about how it would feel. Suddenly the need to go returned. Lila was sure she would not be able to hold back much longer as she squirmed and wiggled, hoping her need just would go away. “Lila, you look so worried. What's up?” she suddenly approached her little girl who was obviously feeling uncomfortable. “I... I am fine. It is just I may need to go to the bathroom a little longer really soon.”, she admitted sheepishly. “I can go to the toilet with you after we get our bags, in about five minutes, can you still wait for so long?” she explained, not realizing that her girl was on the edge of losing the battle against her belly. Lila put her hand on her tummy and felt the growing need to go now. Slowly shaking her head, she looked at her as she always did when she desperately wanted her help. “Can’t you come with me, so we can go now.”, she asked shyly, not willing to let her mum go and signaling that she might not be able to go on her own. “No baby, Bernhard needs my help, we cannot leave right now. ... So if you really need to go so urgently, I wouldn’t mind you using your diaper for poop as well. It's just a short trip to our hotel and I can change you when we get there easily.”, she told her and stroked her back as she always did when she was uncomfortable or stressed. Her mum just suggested that she should poop in her ‘just in case’ diaper. This was so embarrassing was her first thought, but after some moments she realized it would finally take the ache from her. And while everyone else would have ditched the proposal, for Lila it calmed her dilemma and even made her a little curious. Peeing in the diaper was such a relief, so pooping herself could not be so bad after all? She assumed in her mind. She smiled in Lila's face. “I really don't mind if you need to. You don't have to fight that hard.”, she tried to ease away the little girl's resistance. Maybe using it was the best option for her. As embarrassing as it was to admit, the thought of doing that with her mum’s consent made her feel loved and protected as if nothing could harm her. So Lila started wondering what it would feel like to actually do the other thing as well. With a sigh, Lila decided she wanted to try it, at least once. And this time she had a good excuse. Her parents had no time to accompany her, and she would not dare to go into the toilet alone, which could potentially be gross, dirty, and scary with all the unfamiliar people around. Even the idea of facing all the looks of strangers, the smells and flushing sounds without someone she knew close made her confident about her decision. “I think I'll use my ... you know, Mommy.”, Lila whispered, embarrassed and felt like a loved little girl while her mommy protected her. “It's ok you will feel much better”, she heard her say as Mom smiled and nodded, and joined Dad at the conveyor belt, leaving Lila some meters away waiting with their trolley. Lila tried to let it go, like she did when she needed to pee on the plane. But the ache in her belly just intensified further, and she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. After all, pooping herself was a lot more … involving than peeing. As she looked up again, she noticed all the adults were just staring where their luggage would appear. Surely no one would pay any attention to her, except for mum and dad of course. With that in mind, Lila leaned a little bit forward, resting some of her weight on the trolley. She relaxed her hold on her bowels and gave another slight push. A small trickle of pee released first before a tiny bit of her mess began making its way out. It cannot be that hard, Lila wondered, as she saw a little baby boy standing with his legs slightly apart, clearly doing his business in his pants. He does not care at all that he was messing his diaper. She felt the pressure in her belly coming back and also slightly spread her legs apart as she started to push. This time there wasn’t resistance in her tummy. Lila could feel the warmth quickly spreading as sticky poop squished against her bum. In relief, she exhaled and felt the load settle itself at the back of her diaper. Lila felt her belly relaxing a little. She now just wanted to feel comfortable again and all this nasty stuff out of her tummy. Once again she pushed a little harder, this time, and a few seconds later she was confident she had gotten everything out, while she realized that the feeling of pooping herself was much different from just wetting. While the diaper would quickly absorb all her pee, the poop had instead formed a slightly warm mess at the back of her diaper. However, she felt that it was actually quite pleasant and didn't feel bad at all. And it’s at least much better than having to use an icky, stinky restroom. Lila assured herself. She shook herself and pretended to smooth out the back of her skirt, carefully placing her hand on the diaper to make sure it was not too obvious as she was still in public. And she noticed the diaper was heavier now, and the sag kept most of her firm mess away from the childlike-looking girl's skin. For a second she smelled a faint lingering odor of poop. But she looked old enough that no one would expect it to be her who is poopy. Lila raised her head and saw her Mum looking over at her while she was still standing here doing her business as the little baby boy did just some moments ago. She noticed the kind smile on mummy's face as she turned back, helping dad take a heavy bag off. Mum knows, flashed to her mind as she wanted to be back with her parents. Lila slowly walked towards the conveyor belt to join them again. Somehow she wanted to tell them that she was messy, but it was much too embarrassing and babyish for her to admit. What will my daddy think of me just going in my diaper for that as well? The slight scent, however, told her parents anyway as she was approaching them. As Bernhard had picked up all their bags he sniffed and, with a knowing gaze, took Lila by her hand as he had not done for some years. “Let's get our car and finally head to the hotel.”, he said, willingly ignoring what his child just did and as if he was telling her everything was ok Lila was glad she was not alone anymore. She followed Dad and also stayed close to him while they were standing in the car rental pickup line. Standing in line, her mom decided that it was a good time to do a quick diaper check. She tried to pull on Lila's back of her pants, when her daughter quickly turned away and leaned closer to dad “Mom!” she exclaimed, “people are going to see!” “Don’t worry, no one’s going to think badly of you. And I just have to make sure that your diaper was holding up after your accident. You don't want to have a messy leak in the rental car after all. So do you let me check your diaper?” replied Mom with a loving smile while she did not even bother to lower her voice. “Mum ... !“, Lila tried to make a futile argument, while her dad just looked her in the eyes. “Really baby. No one knows you here, so it’s okay you don't need to feel ashamed about accidents while using diapers for traveling.” he underlined Mum's argument. The girl was really embarrassed now and hid her face in her dad's shirt. Lila felt loved, and she trusted her parents, but at the same time, she felt like a small toddler being checked for a messy accident. “I will have a short look.", her mum announced once more. Lila just moved her head in approval, while she felt her mum touch her bum and felt a tiny pull at her waistband and the back of her diaper. “You will be fine for now.”, she announced after a second. Getting her diaper checked by Mom was embarrassing, not only because they were in public, but also because it was their parent’s proof that she had indeed messed herself. Oh well, thought Lila. Her parents had surely smelled it already, and they would see it when she was in the hotel room. Dad hurried away with the clerk from the rental company and got over to the pick-up point. The mother and daughter couple patiently waited outside, where the company put some benches for all the waiting customers. With all the arriving passengers, nearly all seats were taken, and her mum just got the last free spot. “Do you like to sit on my lap again?”, she offered her girl, as she knew her feet were hurting after the long day of traveling. “But I have just...”, Lila stumbled as discreetly as she could, while at the same time she could not confess that she had a messy load in her diaper. “I am your mum, I don't mind your little skunky bum, and I have seen and changed you a lot in the past years”, she calmed her down, while not even confirming that this accident was a one-time ever event for her childlike small but already teenage daughter. Lila slowly sat on her mom's lap, while the strange feeling of the soft mess now spread all over her boom, confused her senses and created the strong childish need to cuddle with her mum. As her mum wrapped her loving arms around her, she no longer could stand being the independent teeny anymore but hid her face on mum's shoulder, ignoring what she might look like. Feeling her body so close and being loved by her mum was all she needed to leave her grumpy teenage thoughts behind. “Hi, you sleepy head, you have a really comfortable seat don't you”, her dad greeted her daughter as he arrived with their rental car and took their heavy luggage into the trunk. “Yes Daddy”, she cheered, not yet ready to let Mum go. “Lila is so sweet and affectionate today.”, her mother responded. “Do you want to cuddle your daddy too?”, the man offered his darling a chance to leave her mom's lap. She hugged him, still experiencing the irresistible childlike love for her parents. As if her dad had been on a week-long business trip, she now was clamping on him, even not letting him go as he lifted her up as a little girl. “We had a small issue with the car arrangement.”, the strong man on her shoulder, told his wife. “They did not have a booster for our Lila. The only possibility was the safer but more expensive child seat option for younger ones, but at least they did not charge us extra.” Feeling so much love from him, the girl could not protest, but she still didn't want it to be too childish. “What kind of child seat?”, she found the courage to ask, interrupting her parent's discussion. “Oh, it is a nice one in a purplish red color”, he advertised. Without dropping his girl to the ground, he took her over to the backseats of the car, opening the door and revealing a full-sized seat that even had shoulder straps as a seat for a rally driver. First, she wanted to protest that she was not a baby, but then the love from her parents and the comfortable hug lulled her into thinking twice about it. Wasn't her diaper the same thing, something childish, that could actually feel nice and comfortable? “Oh I am sure you are in for trouble”, his wife commented on the seat that her husband had chosen, remembering all the discussions she had with her daughter in the past weeks. Lila did not want to be a grumpy vacation Grinch, and maybe she also wanted to show her mum that she was wrong. “It is ok, at least we will have one, and we can enjoy our time here.” Her teenage side enjoyed the surprised feeling on her mum's face. “I think our big girl is not as grumpy and cranky as you think. Can I let you down to try it? It may be a little difficult with the buckles.” “But Daddy, I still want to cuddle with you.”, she confessed that the child in her was back in command. Slightly caught off guard, he whispered, “Do you mind if I tuck you in?”, he suggested, remembering the countless times that he placed his sleepy or sad daughter in the back of their car. “Yes Daddy” she mumbled while the only important thing was that he did not let her down on the hot and hard street. With some well-trained moves, he opened the door and let her slip on the seat. Without thinking, she put her hands in the shoulder straps and let him close the buckle with a click. Lila wiggled a little And while she noticed the lack of space to move, she somehow also felt comfortable. She liked the soft fabric and the small pillow that was there for her head. “I like it”, she confirmed again. And as the adults smiled a little, she added, “Just don't make me use it at home when my classmates see me. Ok?” The two adults, who were still astonished by the change in her teenage girl’s temper, got in at the front. With the push of a button, they opened the window a bit to let in the fresh summer vibes and to keep Lila's poopy smell at bay that still kind of lingered around her. As the drive was getting boring, she had time to think about all the things that changed while they left their city apartment. Most of all was that she, despite all her doubts, actually liked her diapers and the freedom she had to pee or even poop whenever she needed. But there was also the trust and love for her parents that was crowing again, as if her puberty had never sent the first confusing ideas in her mind. Making her more cranky than she actually wanted to be. ### Excited about the new place, Lila jumped on the queen-size bed in their hotel room. Her parents had just checked themselves in at the reception, and the young girl could not wait to explore everything the place had to offer. There were so many nice things she could think about that she nearly forgot about her messy diaper, that she still wore under her slightly childlike shorts. Mom had started unpacking all their bags, while her Dad headed down to the lobby, surely parking their car in the hotel's parking garage. As the last empty bag was packed away, her Mom looked at her girl. Lila was lying on the bed, checking out the kid's channels on TV while thinking about the hotel pool and the waterslides that they had here. The last things that Mom left on the bed were Lila's old travel changing mat and a fresh pack of wipes. “Honey, come, let us get that poopy diaper of yours changed.” Mom announced as she placed the mat and her wipes next to her on the bed. “Can you lift your tushie for a moment, baby?” “I am not a baby” she insisted, ignoring the obvious smell and still letting her mum slide the changing pad up under her back. Then she raised her skirt over her belly. With her hand, she signaled her girl, that she could lie back down Lila could feel the soft but water-impermeable layer around her changing area and noticed that she was indeed acting as if she was a baby girl. And while noticing that, she became a lot more self-conscious about the embarrassing thing she did. “Mom you know, I think I have to clean that up by myself.” offered Lila embarrassed, and at the same time she simply wanted to vanish into thin air. But still, she trusted her mum that she would not leave her alone with all the mess she had in her diaper. Maria placed her hand on her kid's belly, “I will do that, honey. I promised that when I told you to go poopy.” replied Mom. “Besides, when you were a baby, I’ve changed your poopy diapers a ton of times, and I really don't mind doing it again today.” Lila relaxed as she heard that, she relented in relief and slowly spread her legs, making it at least as easy as possible for her Mom. “Oh, this diaper is full.” giggled Mom as she opened the tapes, revealing the mess on her booty. “I am sorry. Your mummy should have changed your way earlier. This must have been very uncomfortable.” “It was not that bad, Mom, I nearly forgot about that after some moments.”, replied Lila honestly. “You know actually ...“, she continued, before her embarrassment suddenly stopped her. “Actually, ...?” continued her Mom, as she softly began wiping down Lila’s messy tushie. “It’s just… I don't know, it made the trip much easier for me and I kind of liked it a little, I guess…” stumbled Lila. “And I really hate to go to the smelly bathrooms. In my diapers I felt so loved and protected as if I am still your little child.”, she confessed. “You are always my child and I love you.”, she told Lila and Mom continued wiping in silence as the young girl enjoyed the feeling of the cold, soothing wipe gently rubbing against her skin while being so close to her mum. As Maria rolled up the dirty diaper, she kissed her belly. “You are all clean now.” exclaimed her mom, waiting for a second to see if she would stand up to get her panties on. But as the moments passed, it was clear that there was more Lila wanted from her. And with a sarcastically strict voice, she said, “Now, we have something to discuss, my little one. You know, I used to insist that you wear pull-ups in the past because I didn’t want you stressing about having an accident, especially since you wet the bed pretty often.” She paused for a second to see Lila’s reaction and when there was no sign of refusal she continued, “Today I promised you that you could switch back to wearing undies this year. But, you had accidents in them a lot today, and you told me you also liked the security and comfort that they gave you. So I thought we might as well keep you in diapers like what we’ve always done, or do you really want to switch back to underwear right now and just wear them as bed-wetting briefs at night?” Mom’s question surprised Lila. She did enjoy her diapers a little on the trip, and she just told her that it was comfy and made her feel protected and small. She now regretted her strong refusal. And while her pride as a teenager was on the line, she truthfully did want to be diapered again. “Do you mind if I choose the diapers?”, confessed Lila with her face red like a tomato... “Of course not, my girl. I think those will give you a much more relaxed vacation if you don't have to worry about bed-wetting when you are tired.”, said Mom, who then went to grab some fresh diapers and powder from the closet. “But how can I go to the bathroom and pee when I wear them, I mean they are real diapers and not just pull-ups” the girl wondered as she felt the soft fabric under her bum. “Oh.” Her mum replied, “I really don't mind you using them when you need to go, and if we have a toilet close by you just come with me and I help you to get to the potty” Gently, she fluffed up another plain white diaper, placed it under her booty, and sprinkled a little bit of powder. After checking the alignment was right and nothing was too tight, she taped the diaper in place and carefully adjusted the leak guards, as Lila rolled over at her belly and giggled. “You are done, baby”, she said as she gave the diaper a gentle pat “Could you tell me when you need a change.” her mum reminded her of their mutual agreement that they had on their previous trips. “Okay.” nodded Lila. The little girl somehow was conflicted. Wearing a diaper, wetting and pooping in it was surely supposed to have been so shameful. Especially for a young woman her age, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the strange feeling at all. And getting her diaper changed by her mom was supposed to be extremely embarrassing at thirteen. But for her, it was different. It felt somewhat nice. She felt like a loved child and enjoyed the childish affection and trust, she experienced while returning into this nearly lost stage of their mummy-daughter relationship.
  8. Hey everyone. Over the last week I've been playing with AI chatbots and LLMs to see how they do with ABDL content. I think it turned out pretty well, and now I have about 13k edited words worked into a story, and maybe 20k more once I get around to editing them, fitting them into the narrative arc, etc. One note - it starts a bit heavy, but gets lighter. Full disclosure: this was written in collaboration with an LLM, but directed and edited by me. What's weird about this is that it really felt like it was a collaboration to me - some of the elements that made me want to develop the story more came from the LLM. --- Chapter 1 Sarah stepped off the school bus and walked up to her house, her backpack bouncing lightly with each step. As she opened the front door, the smell of her mom's chocolate chip cookies wafted out to greet her. "Hi honey, how was your day?" her mom, Lisa, called out from the kitchen. "Fine," Sarah replied, setting her backpack down by the door. She headed to the kitchen, hoping to sneak a warm cookie, but stopped short when she saw her mom's serious expression. Lisa gestured for Sarah to sit at the kitchen table. "Sweetie, I wanted to talk to you about something. I know the pull-ups haven't been working well lately to keep your bed dry at night." Sarah's shoulders slumped a little, but she tried to keep a brave face. "Yeah, they've been leaking a lot." Lisa reached over and gently squeezed her hand. "I have an idea I wanted to run by you - what if we tried using tape-on diapers at night instead? They're more absorbent than the pull-ups." Sarah wrinkled her nose at the mention of diapers. "But mom, diapers are for babies! I'm way too old for those." "I know this isn't easy," Lisa said, her voice soft with understanding. "But wearing diapers at night doesn't make you a baby. They're just a tool to help keep you dry and comfortable while we work on this together." Sarah chewed on her lower lip, thinking it over. The idea of wearing diapers made her feel self-conscious, but she was also tired of waking up in a wet bed. "Do you really think they'd help?" Lisa smiled reassuringly. "I think it's worth a try. And remember, your dad and I love you no matter what - diapers or no diapers. We're so proud of how brave you're being about all of this." Sarah managed a small smile at that, feeling a little bit lighter. "Okay, I guess we can try the diapers. But only at night, right?" "That's right, honey. Just at nighttime, and no one else ever has to know." Lisa stood up and grabbed a cookie from the cooling rack, handing it to Sarah with a wink. "Now, how about we have some of these cookies and you can tell me all about your day? I heard a rumor that a certain someone aced her spelling test!" Sarah grinned, biting into the warm, gooey cookie. As she began to recount her day, the worry about the diapers faded a bit. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but with her mom and dad's love and support, she felt like maybe she could handle this new challenge. *** A few days later, Sarah arrived home from school and found her mom, Lisa, in the kitchen, preparing dinner. "Hey sweetie, how was your day?" Lisa asked, looking up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Fine," Sarah replied, grabbing a snack from the pantry. As she turned around, she noticed a package on the counter. Curiosity piqued, she read the label: "Youth Diapers." Lisa saw her looking and gave a warm smile. "Ah, I see you've spotted our new helpers. I know it might seem a little strange at first, but I think these could really make a difference with the nighttime leaks." Sarah bit her lip, feeling a mix of emotions. "Do I have to wear them?" she asked hesitantly. Lisa put down her knife and came over to give Sarah a reassuring hug. "Let's just give them a try and see how it goes. Remember, this is only for nighttime, and no one else ever has to know. If they don't work out, we'll put our heads together and come up with another plan." Sarah leaned into her mom's embrace, drawing comfort from her steady presence. "Okay, I guess we can try them." "That's my brave girl," Lisa praised, giving Sarah an extra squeeze before returning to her cooking. "I'm making your favorite tonight - spaghetti and meatballs. Why don't you tell me about that science project you were working on while I finish up?" As Sarah launched into an explanation of her potato battery experiment, the diapers faded to the back of her mind. Laughing and chatting with her mom over dinner, she felt a little more ready to face this new challenge. That evening, after dinner and a shower, Sarah's mom brought one of the diapers into her bedroom. "Let's make sure it fits alright. Do you want to try putting it on yourself first?" Sarah hesitated, then shook her head, feeling overwhelmed. Her mom smiled gently, "That's okay. Lay down and I'll help you." With shaky breaths, Sarah laid on her bed, dressed in an oversized t-shirt. Her mom unfolded the diaper, and Sarah's eyes widened at how thick and crinkly it looked. She squirmed as her mom slid it under her bottom and pulled it up between her legs, securing it snugly around her waist. The bulk felt strange and uncomfortable. "How does that feel? Not too tight?" her mom asked as Sarah slowly sat up, acutely aware of the diaper crinkling with every move. "It's okay... just weird," Sarah mumbled, her face burning, as she put on her pajamas. Her mom tucked her into bed, trying to keep things as normal as possible, even with the obvious diaper bulge under the covers. "I'm proud of you," she said softly, kissing Sarah's forehead. Sarah lay awake for a while, intensely aware of the diaper's presence. She worried about waking up wet, wondering if it would leak like the pull-ups usually did. Mostly though, she just felt embarrassed and babyish as the crinkly plastic constantly reminded her of what she was wearing. *** The next morning, Sarah woke up slowly, blinking against the sunlight streaming through her curtains. As she stretched, she became aware of an unfamiliar sensation - the diaper between her legs was thick and squishy, but the sheets beneath her were dry. Sitting up, Sarah patted the bed around her, marveling at the lack of damp spots. A small smile tugged at her lips as she realized the diapers had done their job. Just then, there was a soft knock at the door. "Sarah? You awake, sweetie?" Lisa called softly, peeking her head in. Sarah nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about her wet diaper. "Yeah, I'm up." Lisa came in and sat on the edge of the bed, giving Sarah a warm smile. "And how did the diapers hold up? Did you stay dry?" Sarah fidgeted with the edge of her blanket. "The diaper's wet," she admitted. "But the bed's all dry." "That's wonderful, honey!" Lisa praised, giving Sarah a big hug. "I'm so proud of you. I know this isn't easy, but you're handling it with such maturity." Sarah leaned into the hug, feeling a mix of emotions - relief that the diapers had worked, happiness at her mom's praise, and still a little embarrassment at needing them at all. As if sensing her thoughts, Lisa pulled back and looked Sarah in the eye. "Remember, sweetheart, this doesn't define you. You're still my smart, brave, amazing Sarah, no matter what. And we're going to keep working on this together, okay?" Sarah nodded, blinking back a few tears. "Okay, Mom. Thanks." "Now, what do you say we get you out of that wet diaper and ready for the day? I think I smell Daddy's famous pancakes cooking downstairs!" Lisa grinned, tickling Sarah's side. Sarah giggled, the heaviness of the moment lifting. "With chocolate chips?" "Is there any other kind?" Lisa winked, helping Sarah out of bed. As Lisa helped her out of the wet diaper and into a clean pair of underwear, Sarah felt a little flicker of hope amidst the mixed emotions. Maybe, with her parents' love and support, she really could get through this. "Race you to the kitchen!" Sarah challenged, taking off down the hall with a laugh. Lisa chuckled, following behind at a jog. "Oh, you're on!" As they bounded into the kitchen, Michael looked up from the stove with a grin. "There are my two favorite girls! Who's ready for some world-famous chocolate chip pancakes?" "Me!" Sarah exclaimed, climbing up onto her stool at the counter. As Michael slid a stack of fluffy pancakes onto her plate, winking at her over the syrup bottle, Sarah felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the food. Sure, the diapers were still new and a little weird. But here, laughing with her mom and dad over a delicious breakfast, she knew she was loved and supported, no matter what. And that made all the difference. *** Sarah arrived home from school to find Lisa waiting for her in the living room, a sympathetic smile on her face. "Hi sweetie, how was your day?" Sarah shrugged, setting down her backpack. "It was okay, I guess." Her eyes fell on the diaper laid out on the coffee table, and she felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. Lisa patted the couch next to her. "Come sit with me for a minute. I was thinking it might help to practice wearing your diaper for a bit before bedtime tonight. Just to get used to the feeling." Sarah's cheeks flushed at the suggestion. "Right now? But what if Daddy sees?" "Daddy's still at work, honey. It's just us," Lisa reassured her. "And remember, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. This is just a part of our new routine, like brushing our teeth or putting on pajamas." Sarah hesitated, then nodded, settling onto the couch beside her mom. Lisa helped her wiggle out of her jeans and underwear, keeping up a steady stream of light chatter about her day to help Sarah feel more at ease. As Lisa brought the front of the diaper up snugly and taped it securely at the sides, Sarah couldn't help but giggle. "It's so crinkly!" Lisa grinned, poking Sarah's nose playfully. "The crinkliest! But you know what that means? It will keep you dry." Sarah reached for her jeans, but her mom stopped her. "Those might be a bit snug over the diaper, honey. It's pretty thick. Why don't you just wear it like this for a little while, since we're staying in?" Sarah wanted to protest, but the words stuck in her throat. Clad in only a t-shirt and the bulky diaper, she felt more exposed than ever. Gingerly, she stood up, blushing at how the thick padding forced her legs apart. For the next half hour, Sarah went about her usual after-school routine - having a snack, watching a little TV, starting on her homework. The diaper felt bulky and weird at first, but as she got caught up in her activities, she found herself forgetting about it for minutes at a time. That is, until the first twinge from her bladder reminded her of its presence. Sarah froze, the urge to pee suddenly at the forefront of her mind. Usually, she'd just run to the bathroom without a second thought. But now, with the diaper... She thought of asking her mom for help, but didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to the diaper. She pressed her legs together tightly, trying to hold it, but the bulk of the diaper made it difficult. A small spurt of urine dampened the front of the diaper and Sarah froze, panicking. She desperately tried to clench her muscles, but the need overpowered her and she felt herself fully relaxing. The diaper grew warm and heavy between her legs as it absorbed the flood. Sarah felt hot tears pricking her eyes. The sensation of purposely wetting herself was distressing and humiliating. When the flow finally stopped, she sat motionless, overwhelmed by the soggy bulk encasing her. "Sarah? Everything alright?" Her mom came in from the kitchen and immediately noticed her daughter's distress. "Oh honey, did you have an accident?" The kind words broke Sarah's composure and she started to cry, covering her face. Her mom sat beside her and pulled her into a hug, letting her sob into her shoulder. "Shh, it's okay sweetie. You didn't do anything wrong. The diaper did its job, see? No mess." She rubbed Sarah's shaking back. "I know this is so hard. But we'll get through it together." Sarah just clung to her mom, drawing shaky breaths. In that moment, she was deeply grateful for her mother's steadfast support and lack of judgment. Even so, the road ahead seemed dauntingly steep. Her mom gave her a gentle squeeze before saying, "Let's get you changed into a dry diaper before dinner, okay?" Sarah nodded, sniffling. She let her mom guide her to lay back on the couch and remove her diaper. The process of being changed was embarrassing, but also comforting in a way. There was something soothing about her mother's calm, tender care. A fresh diaper was slid beneath her bottom and secured snugly around her hips. The clean, dry bulk felt better, but was still a strange sensation. Her mom helped her to sit up, giving her a soft smile. "There we go, all clean and dry. Ready for dinner?" Sarah managed a small nod, still feeling shaky and raw. She clung to her mom's hand as they walked to the kitchen, intensely aware of the way the thick padding made her waddle. As Sarah and her mom set the table, they heard the front door open and close. "I'm home!" Sarah's dad called out. Sarah froze, suddenly acutely aware of the bulky diaper crinkling loudly under her oversized t-shirt. She shot her mom a panicked look. Her mom gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, sweetie. Daddy knows about the diapers, remember? There's nothing to be embarrassed about." Sarah swallowed hard, trying to calm her racing heart as her dad entered the kitchen. He greeted them warmly, kissing her mom on the cheek before turning to Sarah. "Hey there, princess. How was your day?" Sarah managed a shaky smile, fighting the urge to hide behind her mom. "It was okay," she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as the diaper crinkled with her movement. If her dad noticed her attire or the telltale bulge and crinkling, he didn't show it. He just pulled her into a warm hug as usual. Sarah relaxed slightly, comforted by the familiarity of his embrace. Dinner was a quieter affair than usual, with Sarah's parents carrying most of the conversation as she picked at her food. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of the diaper between her legs, a constant reminder of her shame. But her parents' easy normality helped a little, making the situation feel slightly less overwhelming. After dinner, Sarah helped clear the table before retreating to the couch to watch tv, trying to ignore the diaper. As her bedtime approached, she turned to her mom and said, "I think I'm ready for bed.” Her mom nodded understandingly. "Okay, honey. Let's go get you changed and settled." In her bedroom, Sarah laid down on her bed, her cheeks flushing as her mom gently removed the still dry diaper. “Do you want to go to the bathroom?” her mom asked. Sarah eagerly got up. Once that part of her nighttime routine was finished, her mom had secured a fresh, thick diaper around her hips for the night and helped Sarah into a pair of oversized pajama bottoms. The extra room helped accommodate the diaper's bulk, but it was still noticeable. Sarah blushed as she caught sight of herself in the mirror, looking more like a toddler than an 8-year-old. Her mom turned down the covers and patted the bed invitingly. Sarah climbed in, hyper-aware of the crinkling with every movement. As her mom pulled the blankets up around her, Sarah felt tears pricking at her eyes again. "Mom?" she whispered shakily. "Do you think I'll ever not need diapers?" Her mom smoothed Sarah's hair back from her face, her touch gentle. "Of course, sweetie. This is just temporary, remember? We're going to keep working on it and I fully believe you'll get past this. But even if it takes a while, that's okay too. Daddy and I love you no matter what, diapers or no diapers." Sarah nodded, blinking back tears. She clung to her mom's hand, drawing strength from her solid presence. Her mom leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams, honey. Daddy and I are so proud of you. We'll get through this together, I promise." As her mom turned out the light and left the room, Sarah curled up on her side, the diaper crinkling softly with her movement. She tried to focus on her mom's comforting words instead of the embarrassment swirling in her stomach. It wasn't easy, accepting this new reality. The diapers felt like a glaring sign of babyishness, a step backward she hadn't wanted to take. But in the darkness, her parents' steadfast love and support felt like a lifeline. Maybe, just maybe, if she leaned on that love... if she trusted in their belief in her... she could come out the other side of this. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, but Sarah clung to that hope as she drifted off to sleep, aware of the diaper’s thickness. Chapter 2 (a few weeks later) Sarah lay on her bed, the crinkle of the diaper loud as her mom fastened the tapes securely. She fiddled with the edge of her pajama top, a question burning on her tongue. "Mom?" she finally asked, her voice small. "I really want to have a sleepover with Kate. She’s asked me to spend the night a couple times. But I'm scared she'll find out about... you know." Her mom checked the legs of the diaper, smiling gently. "I understand, sweetie. Sleepovers are a big deal at your age. It's okay to want that experience." Sarah nodded, biting her lip. "But how can I do it? With the bedwetting and the diapers?" "Well," her mom began thoughtfully, "what if you wore pull-ups instead of diapers for the sleepover? They're less bulky and might be easier to hide." Sarah shook her head vigorously. "No way. The pull-ups leaked all the time. That would be worse. I don't want to risk it." "Okay, that's valid." Her mom tapped her chin, considering. "What if we hosted the sleepover here, at our house? That way, you'd have all your usual supplies and routines." Sarah sat up a little, interest piqued. "Like how?" "Well, we could hide all the diapers in the master bedroom. I could diaper you there. We’d just need to distract Kate for a minute during the diaper change.” Sarah nodded slowly, warming to the idea. "And in the morning, You could wake me up early and change out of the diaper. Before Kate wakes up." "Exactly," her mom agreed with a smile. "We could double-check that your pajamas hide the diaper well." Sarah took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of excitement alongside the nerves. "I think... I think I want to try it. Having the sleepover here, I mean. It feels less scary than sleeping at Kate's house." Her mom squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I think that's a brave and wise choice. We can make sure everything is set up to help you feel comfortable and confident." Sarah exhaled slowly, nodding. "Okay. I'll ask Kate if she wants to sleep over here next weekend. I'll just tell her my house is better because... because we have a trampoline! And a popcorn machine!" Her mom laughed, eyes twinkling. "Those are excellent selling points. I'm sure she'll be thrilled." Sarah managed a smile, feeling a weight lift off her chest. Maybe this could work. Maybe she could have a normal sleepover, even with the bedwetting. It would take some extra planning and courage, but she was starting to believe it was possible. Her mom enveloped her in a warm hug. "I'm so proud of you, Sarah. You're facing your fears head-on. That's true bravery, you know." Sarah nestled into the embrace, drawing strength from her mom's steadfast support. She knew there would still be challenges and scary moments ahead. But for now, she allowed herself to feel a spark of hope and excitement. With her mom in her corner and a solid plan, perhaps even the biggest obstacles could be overcome, one diaper and one sleepover at a time. *** The next day at school, Sarah nervously approached Kate during lunch. "Hey, Kate? I was wondering... instead of me sleeping over at your house, would you maybe want to have a sleepover at my house this weekend?" Kate's eyes widened slightly, and she fidgeted with her sandwich. "Oh, um... I don't think I can this weekend. My family has... plans." Sarah's heart sank, but she tried not to let her disappointment show. "Oh, okay. No worries. Maybe another time?" Kate nodded, not quite meeting Sarah's eyes. "Yeah, definitely. Another time for sure." The rest of the school day dragged by, Sarah's mind spinning with worries and what-ifs. Had she said something wrong? As soon as she got home, Sarah sought out her mom, finding her folding laundry in the living room. "Mom? I asked Kate about sleeping over here, but she said she can't. She seemed kind of weird about it." Her mom set down the shirt she was folding, patting the couch cushion next to her. Sarah plopped down with a sigh. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Did she say why she couldn't?" her mom asked gently. Sarah shrugged, picking at a loose thread on the couch. "She just said her family has plans this weekend. But it felt like maybe there was more to it." Her mom nodded thoughtfully. "It's possible her family does have something going on. Or maybe she's just not ready for sleepovers yet, for her own reasons." Sarah hadn't considered that. She chewed her lip, thinking. "You mean... like maybe she's worried about something too? Like I am with the bedwetting?" "It's possible," her mom said with a soft smile. "Everyone has their own challenges and fears, even if we can't always see them." Sarah leaned against her mom, absorbing this idea. "So what should I do? I don't want to pressure her or make things weird." Her mom wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze. "I think the best thing is to keep being a good friend, just like you always are. Let Kate know the invitation is open, but don't push. When she's ready, she'll let you know." Sarah nodded slowly. "Okay. I can do that." She hesitated, then added quietly, "I just really wanted to try having a sleepover. To feel... normal." Her mom pressed a kiss to the top of Sarah's head. "I know, sweetie. And you will, when the time is right. In the meantime, how about we have our own special sleepover this weekend? We can camp out in the living room, make popcorn, and watch all your favorite movies." Sarah managed a small smile at that. "With sleeping bags and everything?" "Absolutely. And I'll even let you choose the toppings for our sundaes." Sarah giggled, feeling a bit lighter. "Even if I want gummy bears and chocolate sauce?" "Even then," her mom agreed with a grin. "It'll be our own special tradition." Sarah hugged her mom tightly, grateful for her unwavering support and understanding. The disappointment over the sleepover still stung a little, but her mom's love and the promise of their own special sleepover helped soothe it. Maybe Kate just needed time, Sarah thought. Just like Sarah had needed time to work up the courage for a sleepover invitation. And in the meantime, she could focus on enjoying the little moments of connection and normalcy, even if they looked a bit different than she had imagined. With a deep breath and a determined nod, Sarah hopped off the couch, ready to start planning their living room campout.
  9. Well, this is a different sort of story. I had the idea of combining a babyfur story...with the Golden Age of Piracy. Weird idea, but I've researched a bit, figured out how things worked, and it just...took hold. It's a lot less mature than most of my stories, actually (surprising for me), buuut I maaay include some things that are a lot more AB and regression themed than I normally do (which is normally a lot). Also, there will be a bit earthier stuff, like a brothel and tavern wenches (as was in the times. Don't worry, no sexual themes aside from...motherhood themes.), so consider that the warning. I'm also admittedly not sure where the story's middle and climax are, but I have an idea about the end;I just don't know where it'll go before then. Okay, here's the first chapter: Chapter One: Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls The ocean in 1595 was a treacherous place, especially when one didn’t know what they were doing, and even more so when it was an area rife with danger already; the broken ships, names long since lost to the pounding waves, howling winds, and sea spray proved that without a shadow of a doubt. Fortunately for Florence Goodluck, the feared - at least, she hoped she was - black-furred fox captain of the seven seas, she and her small crew knew exactly what they were doing...or so they hoped. She wore few fripperies; while she and her crew were regarded as pirates, welcomed at Tortuga by fellow pirates, they weren’t a very wealthy or successful crew, having gotten few prizes over the time they were active. She and her crew wore simple, short, homespun dresses, ragged and torn from years on the sea. “Tack to port!” she called out in a high soprano, as she took the lookout point, seeing her crew of big cats maneuver the Catastrophe (her idea to let the crew, having known her lifelong friends since they all lived on the docks of Dover, England as orphans, know how much she appreciated them, especially since they unanimously voted her captain.) with Emma Everard, the stoic snow leopardess helmscat at her customary spot at the wheel. Not that the fox minded the lookout and rigging jobs; she never ordered her crew to do anything that she wouldn’t do, and she knew that Emma was better at the wheel than she could ever be. “Move port, bring the riggings up!” Grace Wythinghall, the powerful pantheress roared out, as was her right as quartermistress, helping the crew move away from the bow of a half-sunken ship, the stench of rotting wood in the air as a cold, heavy mist began to roll in. Florence sniffed the air, with most everything, even the familiar sea spray scents, fading into the furling mists. She realized that it could be a quest that ended all of their lives. No pirate had ever gotten this treasure, mostly because of silly and stupid superstitions that the older folk believed in. But she truly believed that she and her crew would be the first, and it would propel them to fame, glory…and mostly peace. Maybe because we’re the most desperate, that we have absolutely nothing to lose, she thought to herself. They were all veterans of the seas for a decade, and yet none of them were over the age of twenty-three, having lived hard lives as pirates, spending almost all of that decade in the bosom of their small frigate, rocked to sleep by the waves, avoiding privateers (those damned hypocrites, no better than they were…only with a letter of marque by the kings and queens of countries allowing them to prey on those weaker than them), fellow pirates, and legitimate navy ships that could’ve sunk them and sent them straight to Davy Jones. All Florence wanted was to retire. She was tired of the sea, tired of the dangers, tired of starving, and she wanted to put down roots somewhere on an island where the most she’d see of the ocean was occasional fishing, with more money than she knew how to spend. “Florence, I can’t see anything in this mist!” Agnes Coulthurst cried out, the cougaress’s tail lashing in annoyance, bringing her back to the moment. “Hold steady!” the black fox called. “Are you absolutely sure, Flory?” Denise Parkham called out; the lynx boatswain's voice tinged with terror. This was not a natural mist; the conditions for mist weren’t there; hell, it was far too cold for the normal spring weather of the Caribbean, and frost began to creep on the sails. “Do NOT call me ‘Flory’!” Florence snapped. “Hold steady unless I say!” A cheetah was scratching her claws on the ship deck, whimpering, “We’re going to crash into one of those ships-” “AVIS, WE ARE NOT GOING TO CRASH! TRUST ME!” the black fox shouted. “That goes for everyone! We are going to make it through! Have I ever led you wrong before?! Hold - damn - steady!” “You heard the captain!” Grace roared; the fox had to admit that the vocal cords of the quartermistress was a much louder sound that almost seemed to cut through the mist. “Hold steady until she says!” All eleven animals held their breaths, as if the very act of breathing would cause the water to hear and consume them. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword. Then Millicent Huchenson and Winifred Daundelyon, a serval and caracal as close as twin sisters (even though they weren’t actual sisters like the Rowes) heard a faint roar coming in front of them, their especially keen ears pounding with blood, and both of them screamed in terror, holding each other. Florence heard the faint roar as well, heard the sailmaker and cooper scream, and immediately bellowed, “DROP ANCHORS AND FURL SAILS RIGHT NOW!” Her crew reacted quickly, knowing that their lives depended on it. Whether Lady Luck existed or not, they knew one thing: they were lucky, for the roar was coming from a waterfall that plummeted down into nothingness - the anchors had managed to cling to rocks just in time to save them from going over. “This has to be the goddamned end of the world…” Isabel Hornboldt moaned pitifully, the jaguaress who served as the navigator unsheathing and sheathing her claws. “There’s nothing on my maps that says anything about a goddamned waterfall!” “That means we’re close to The Dying Night!” Florence shouted, her eyes alight with recognition. “Don’t you girls remember what the legend said?” “Other than some voodoo witch that cursed the pirates who killed her husband?” Sybil Rowe asked curiously, the tigress carpenter looking straight at her lioness sister, Cecily's eyes. “And they were never heard from again? And that everyone who tried to find this treasure died?” the gunner finished in a dour tone. “Cecily, Sybil, curses aren’t real!” the fox captain snorted to herself. Curses? Ridiculous. And they were a much better crew than those that had died; hadn’t they proved it by surviving until now? “Anyway, it’s at the bottom of the waterfall.” “Well, unless you plan on jumping off, I’d love to hear ideas, Flory!” Agnes snapped. “Always grumbling, Agy, always grumbling about something!” Florence retorted, inwardly seething about the childish nickname uttered by the cook. “Don’t you know that there are tributaries that lead downward? Or did you forget about the legend entirely?” The cougaress’s face flushed in annoyance, but Avis Ballett was quick to say, “But we can’t see anything in the mist!” Florence sighed, quickly wrapping a rope around her paw and stepping off of her perch, down to her crew from the crow’s nest, using her weight to counterbalance and land safely on her paws. Her crew had seen her do it so many times that they were no longer afraid for her safety…but they didn’t dare try it themselves. They would follow her anywhere…except with that; some things were just a death wish. “That’s why the legend is called ‘The Dying Night,’” the fox explained, mostly to the cheetah musician, but to the rest of the crew as well. “We wait until dawn; that’s night’s death, that’s when the mist will clear up and reveal the tributaries. Then we go down to them, find the ship, get the loot, divide it, and get out as rich women.” “You’re placing an awfully big bet on a mere legend, Flory,” Denise mused, her paw drumming on the side rail. “Enough with that stupid nickname! We know it’s real, Denise, there’s enough evidence to prove it, especially since it's here in front of our eyes.” Florence’s green eyes were desperate. “You’re my crew; I’d go down with and for you any day, and you know that, but we can’t be pirates forever. This could be the one. This could be the treasure that we could retire with and live like queens.” “I’d settle for a family.” All heads turned to face Isabel, who looked sad. “We’re family, Izzy,” Grace gently coaxed. “No, I meant…we stole this ship from the privateers together, and we're as close as we can get without being blood…but I want something…tangible,” the jaguaress said with a sigh. “No insult meant to you girls, but we see each other every day, every time I wake up on this ship. I’ve heard every argument we could ever hear. I want a different voice.” “Get enough money, and you could buy a family,” Florence said with a smirk. “Florence, not everything’s about scoring that big loot.” To the black fox’s shock, it was Emma that said those words, the normally quiet snow leopardess having a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d love a family myself. We all grew up as orphans; I wanted to know my mom for years. She died, you know. Died in childbirth. Dear ‘Dad’ left me on the docks. We all have similar stories, Florence, even you. Haven't you ever wanted someone to hold you, to love you, no matter what?” Florence sighed angrily. “Look, you want a mommy to feed you, pay a damn wetnurse. Those times are done, and you can’t ever go back. What’s done is done. We’re here right now, so let’s focus on our goal right now." She took a deep breath and rubbed the fur on her temple - a tic that she had when she was trying to calm herself down. "Anyway, we’re all tired, so get some sleep until dawn. Millicent, Winifred, take the first watch.” The fox’s crew looked at her…and let out collective sighs, knowing they weren’t going to change her mind; she could be quite stubborn. It was the trait that brought them this far, and the trait they loved and hated. But she was right, in a way: she had never steered them wrong, had always kept them safe. “Yes, Cap’n,” they chorused. They gathered their ragged blankets, shivering as, one by one, they fell asleep in the cold mist, their dreams right in front of them…one way or another. - Okay, quick explanation about the specific jobs of this crew on their frigate (a smaller ship used in the Golden Age of Piracy): Captain - Democratically elected on pirate ships, believe it or not, although they could just as easily have command stripped of them. In most cases, the captain was the brains, the one who got the ship through fair or foul means. The most successful captains could install rules on the ship. Quartermaster (quartermistress, in this case) - Also democratically elected, the quartermasters were the seconds-in-command of the ship, unlike various the various legitimate vessels (even though the pirates had first and second mates). They were the crew's answer to the pirate captain, sharing their concerns, and being an intermediatory for the captain to give orders to the crew. If the captain had taken another vessel and wanted to start a fleet, the quartermaster would be the captain of that ship. Navigator - Even though the captain and quartermaster often had knowledge of navigation, a pirate ship might have a dedicated navigator. With a good navigator, the captain would know where merchant ships struck, could navigate islands and shallows, that sort of stuff. Boatswain (bosun) - The supervisor of the various seamanship stuff around the ship, monitored the stores, and ensured sails, anchors, and rigging were in good condition. On larger ships, they'd have people under them. Carpenter - The carpenter was the one who was responsible for fixing leaks around the ship, making various repairs, and refitting captured vessels for the purposes of the pirates. They were also responsible for a lot of the, ah...immediate surgeries (i.e., amputations) in the absence of a surgeon. Cooper - The cooper was responsible for assembling barrels, used to keep wet stores, dry stores, gunpowder, water, rum, etc. from spoiling, making them airtight, fixing buckets, etc. Normally on larger ships, but I figured I could make a slight exception. Sailmaker - Sailmakers were basically the chief engineer on a ship, used to stitch and make sails, which, without them, ships went nowhere. In the absence of a surgeon, sailmakers were also responsible for stitching wounds shut. Gunner - The gunner was responsible for the cannons, how much gunpowder was necessary for to hit the target, who shouted the order to fire. Gunner teams (four to six men) were required to be accurate and speedy, and they were outfitted with a lot of guns. Cook - Yes, even pirate ships had cooks. Normally, they were ones with amputations (not here), but while they stole food stores from the ships they captured, and ate from taverns, yes, cooks were needed to prepare food and rum. Musician - Yes, pirates had musicians like fiddlers and trumpeters. Like in others, they created rhythms for shanties, to aid in manual task, and to entertain, but they also contributed to a cacophony of noise during attacks.
  10. Well, here goes nothing. I have posted on ABDL sites before but I don't think my heart was really in those stories. That has changed now, this story is one that I have put plenty of work into and I am finally ready to test it out on a real audience. I have a few chapters ready in the coming weeks but, based on how things go I hope to move to a regular schedule as I have lots of plans! Note regarding grammar, well I am terrible at it. I don't have an editor and rely mainly on re-reads and free web grammar checks so, don't judge me too bad, ha! Hope you Enjoy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The sound of a flip-flop smacking the bottom of a foot and the ground in an annoying, repetitive beat filled the car as they approached their destination. “Tara, stop that!” her mother spoke sharply. Tara leaned up from the clenched position she was in at the back of the van and pressed her foot down hard to stop the tapping. She had been holding back her bladder for the better part of the trip. The freeway separating Tara’s house from her mother’s best friend was legendary. She had been holding back the two colas she had pounded at lunch and was thankful the end was nearly in sight. “I keep telling you it's not healthy for you to keep doing this to yourself; I thought we were past this.” Diane continued. In her current condition, Tara couldn’t help but agree with her. Ever since she was little, she had issues with bathroom breaks. As a small child, she was potty trained early, but that did not stop her from constantly having accidents. Her mom always said she had her ‘head in the clouds’; she would be so focused on something that nothing else would matter… nothing. As she grew older, Tara continued to have accidents that would go up and down in frequency. When she started school, she earned the unpleasant nickname ‘Tinkle Tara’. Between accidents and a bout with bedwetting when she was 7 and 9 years old, it looked like she was doomed to it. However, for whatever reason, a switch had flipped, and it had been nearly 8 years since ‘Tinkle Tara’ was uttered. On the other hand, in the last few months, Tara has been putting her bathroom training through the ringer. Time after time, she found herself holding her bladder and aching from the effort. Whether it was at the mall, watching a movie, or sitting through classes, the urge to go was becoming more frequent and urgent each time. She had not told her mother that she almost always felt the need to go ‘right now’ whenever she had to pee. It never helped matters that her mother was a health nut and had drilled into her to keep hydrated, so she always was drinking water. It was a habit, but then again, it was only in the last few months that things started to go sideways. Now Tara was also going to be playing ‘big sister/babysitter’ to a 10 year old. Her mother and Brittany’s, had been friends since High School and now work for the same company. Both had been married and are now divorced. With lucrative jobs and a daughter, they were about as close as any family member. So when they both were chosen to go overseas to be in charge of operations in a new business move for the company, they quickly decided the plan. As Tara was 18, she would watch and take care of Britteny until the two mothers got back, which would be around the beginning of the summer. “Now remember, you have to be in charge of Brittany and keep up with your school work. Those are the two most important things,” her mother said, for about the hundredth time. “Mom, I know. I have hung out with Brittany plenty of times before,” Tara countered. “Not for this long and with this many responsibilities. Plus, Cathrine has… Well something else that you are going to have to keep track of,” her mom finished. “Oh?” the girl raised her eyebrow. “She will tell you,” her mother said giving her a look that said, this is serious. As the van pulled into the garage of Cathrine and Brittany’s home, Tara shot like a bullet out the door into the house. Catherine was blurred as she shot for the bathroom in the room she usually stayed in on the second floor. Scrambling through the door, the sight of the bathroom made Tara relax. “No!” she gasped, hurriedly tired to get the button on her shorts undone. She had relaxed too early, and now things were out of control. Finally sitting on the seat, a sharp but blissful relief crept over her. She had not realized how much and how painful this time had been. Tara knew that she should stop doing this but, for now, inspected the damage to her shorts. The whole crotch of the garment was a darker shade of blue and was a lost cause. Luckily, she had one other pair close to these that she could grab from her bag and slip into. This was only the third time this had happened, but it certainly was not something she enjoyed. Slipping into fresh clothes, she made her way back down to the living room to ‘officially’ greet Cathrine and Brittany. “Whew, sorry about that,” she greeted Catherine. “It’s alright, pretty on par for you, ha!” Cathrine jested, then her voice went low,“Follow me to the kitchen.” Her mother was talking with Brittany, and the girl was looking like she did not have much to say, so she followed Catherine. “So there is something that I have been keeping from you; I just told her mother last night,” she let out with a long breath. “Oh no, is something wrong?” Tara blurted out. “No, no, nothing serious, but… Brittany has been having some troubles. Bathroom troubles,” she responded flatly. A heat rose in Tara’s cheeks, and she simply said, “Oh…” “Now I know that you had your own issues, but I recently saw a book about accidents among older children and teenagers. I have Brittany following some rules that are designed to help her get through this phase.” Cathrine explained as she put a hardcover book on the counter. “The front of the book explains how the rules work - the ins and outs as they were. And in the back there is the list of rules and a little chart if you need it,” she went on. Tara picked up the book, and before she could utter a word, Cathrine continued, “You obviously don’t have to read it, and Brittany knows the first two rules by heart now, but you should read them and she has to follow them. Supplies are in the upstairs hall closet.” “Supplies?” the girl questioned. “Well, in a nutshell, Brittany has to use protection whenever she has accidents. The more accidents, the more protection, and the more…eh… privileges she loses.” the older woman explained. “Ah, well, I guess that makes sense.” Tara concluded. She couldn’t believe it, Brittany was in diapers! It was a shock only because there had never been a hint to her that her little friend may have had such troubles. Well, Tara herself was smaller, but not terribly so, but she was still taller by a couple of inches. Brittany had a heart shaped face, round blue eyes, and shorter brunette hair, while Tara had sandy blonde hair past her shoulders, brown eyes, and a longer face. Both had followed their mother’s genes, like matched sets. “Cathrine, we need to get to the airport,” her own mother called out. “Oh yes, coming!” she replied, and then to Tara, “Just read the rules and make sure Brittany follows them, simple as it gets!” With that, she hugged Tara and made her way to the living room, where her daughter and Tara’s mother were. There were the usual tearful goodbyes, as the realization of how long it would be before they were all together again sunk in. All too soon, it was just Tara and Brittany watching TV in silence as the girls both recovered from the painful departure. Tara ordered pizza as a way of cheering them both up, and by the time the large pizza and sodas had been consumed, it was close to bedtime. She, Tara, knew it was time to broach the subject. She decided to do so in a manner that showed she trusted Brittany to know what she had to do. “Well, I guess it is time for bed, Brit,” she stated. Brittany yawned. “Yeah, I guess so.” The girl got up from the couch and made her way to the stairs. “Wait, Brittany!” she called to stop the girl. “Is there something we need to talk about? Some rules?” The younger girl froze, and she stiffened as she turned to face Tara, so she went on the offensive. “Before you say anything, it's alright. I had problems when I was around your age,” she tried to soothe Brittany. “I don’t want to follow the rules without mom,” she almost spat back at Tara. “Look, this will go smoothly if we just follow what your mom wants you to do.” Tara countered. “But… it's just… It's so embarrassing, and I want to just be normal.” Brittany pleaded, “Please don't make me do them.” It nearly broke Tara’s heart to see Brittany clinging onto a small hope that she would be out of whatever she had been enduring. “What exactly are the rules you are supposed to follow, i haven't read them yet because I want you to tell me,” Tara said. “Well, umm… you… There are five rules, and if you have any, you know. Then you start at 1 and go from there.” Brittany mumbled. “I see, and what rule are you on now?” She questioned further. “1B,” Brittany said out of the side of her mouth. “1B?” “Yeah, the first rule has three parts… some kind of like grace period before the rest of the rules, I guess.” Brittany had crossed her arms and had not looked at Tara since she started talking about the rules. “How far have you gone down the list?” Tara asked with complete curiosity. “Just two, but it was awful.” Brittany huffed. Tara was in a bind; she didn’t want to fight Brittany for weeks on end. And she didn’t want to have to deal with Brittany having accidents she could prevent. But most of all, she did want to have fun with Brittany; she really was like a little sister. The girl shouldn’t have to feel alone in this… then it hit her. It was drastic, but it just might work. “Alright, let's look at 1B,” Tara announced. Going into the kitchen, she opened the back of the book and found the page with 1A at the top. She read out, “1A - a single day-time accident will result in a pull-up for 1 day and night.” Turning the page, she also read, “1B - a single night-time accident will result in regular pull-ups for 2 days & night-time pull-ups for 2 nights.” Brittany was bright red but Tara talked fast to ease the embarrassment. “So you…” “The night before last, this is my second night. Mom let me go without during the day today because she was leaving,” the girl clarified. “Good, then we will both follow the rules going forward.” Tara stated. “Both?” Brittany asked. “Both,” she replied. “What good is that? It's still just me that will have to do any of it!” Brittany screeched. “Hold on. Did you see me dash upstairs when I got here?” Tara asked, and the girl nodded. “Well, I didn't quite make it, and my shorts got a bit wet. So I guess that puts me on 1A, right?” she said, matter of fact. “You're lying,” Brittany huffed, but Tara was prepared for this. A quick trip to her room and her shorts from earlier presented to Brittany were all the evidence she needed. “Whoa!” Brittany exclaimed. “Told you, so we will both be in pull-ups tonight. Your mom gave you a break, so we will just go with the pull-ups tonight. And if we are both dry in the morning, this all resets, right?” She asked cheerily. “Yeah, but… but… “ Brittany couldn’t come up with an argument. “Now come on, we are still about the same size; let's see if they fit and we can get off to bed.” Tara led the dumbstruck girl up the stairs and to the closet. It was packed with white boxes, each labeled in the upper corner. The shelf at chest height had two opened boxes, one of the left read ‘Slims’. Thinking these must be the pull-ups she grabbed two, and handed one to Brittany. “Let’s both get pjs on, i will come to your room in about 10 minutes.” Tara said as she closed her door behind her. Throwing the pull-up on the bed, it suddenly hit Tara what she was about to do. It had been so long since she had worn something like that she almost felt as if it stared back at her. As if this meant more than just a means to an end. Shaking her head, she inspected the pull-up; it wasn’t any of the major brands she knew. In fact, it only had an “R” in the center of the waistband to indicate a brand. The sides were just a bit longer than the width of her hand and the padding looked fairly thin, but then it was just a pull-up. Changing into a tank top with thin shoulder straps, she placed her usual PJ pants next to the pull up on the bed. Stepping into the pull-up she began to doubt that she would fit, yet as she dragged it up to her waist, it never seemed to tighten. Standing there, 18 years old, and in a pull-up, it may as well have been fitted for her. It clung to her a bit but didn’t feel tight, and she felt the leg holes conform around her leg just below her butt, a perfect fit. She walked around and noted the extra padding and the overall ‘bulk’ she was not accustomed to as she moved. Satisfied, she pulled her PJs over the pull-up and went to see Brittany. Knocking on the door, the girl called out that she was ready. Tara was momentarily taken aback as Brittany had some small shorts and the diaper spilled out of the top and the sides. “All set?” she asked. “Yeah… I guess,” but Brittany kept glancing at Tara's PJs. Pulling the band of her pants down a bit, Tara showed the top of the pull and said, “Fitted just fine.” Tara began to giggle, and a smile reached Brittany's face as well. Soon they were laughing hard at the situation, and the tension was broken between them. “Night, Brit, see in the morning.” Tara chuckled out. “Night, Tara” was the reply as the younger girl got into bed. Back in her own room, Tara turned off the lights and got under the streets, exhausted. However, she almost immediately realized why Brittany’s shorts were so small. Being under covers, in pants, and in a pull-up was not the most comfortable thing. But tiredness eventually overtook Tara, and she drifted off.
  11. I’m new to writing so let me know what you think ☺️ Chapter 1 Jayne finds herself on an airplane, soaring high in the vast expanse of the sky. The sense of freedom and solitude envelops her as she is the only passenger on this plane. Soft, fluffy blankets surround her, swaddling her like dollops of whipped cream. The comforting embrace of the blankets brings her a profound sense of security and contentment. The blankets seem to stretch infinitely, taking up the entire plane, and Jayne feels as if she's floating on a cloud. As the plane ascends higher and higher, a delightful rush of butterflies flutters in her stomach, filling her with pure joy and exhilaration. The sensation of elevating in the sky, unburdened and weightless, is an experience she relishes. The enchanting melody of "Let it flow" by Spiritualized plays in the background, its gentle notes adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. With each passing moment, Jayne's heart dances to the rhythm of the song, amplifying the euphoria she feels. "Here it comes and then it goes And that feeling takes me home And I don't know where I'm goin' Let it flow" As the plane starts its descent, Jayne can't help but giggle with delight. The excitement of the downward shift fills her with a thrilling sensation. She feels as if she's on an adventure, descending into a world of pure bliss and ecstasy. The dream takes her to a place of complete release and surrender, where she lets go of all inhibitions and embraces the flow. Suddenly, Jayne is jolted awake by the song continuing from her alarm clock. "Let it flow..." Her heart still races with the remnants of the dream's euphoria. She realizes that her bladder is full, and she rushes to the bathroom. The relief she experiences as she uses the bathroom is similar to what she felt in her dream. Jayne, is a 30-year-old girl, free spirited, creative designer at a large gaming company. Slim and tone in posture, she has undergone a transformation in recent years, becoming more conscious of her health and well-being. This all thanks to her partner Ryan, who does marathon runs alongside his day job. Their one year relationship has been a catalyst for positive change, as she found herself motivated to adopt healthier habits. Long runs have become a regular part of Jayne's routine. She finds running to be relaxing. On the weekends she likes to unwind and make her runs a little more entertaining. This entertainment is fueled by vaping some of her favorite sativa weed. She enjoys the rush of endorphins and the melodic vibrations that flutter with each stride during her elevated run. In this headspace she is able to achieve not just a runner's high, but instead, the best of both worlds. The joy of running has become her therapy, allowing her to clear her mind and find solace in the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground. In addition to running, Jayne has embraced yoga as a way to balance her physical and mental well-being. She's discovered the transformative power of yoga, not only for its physical benefits but also for the sense of inner peace and mindfulness it brings to her life. Her wardrobe has also evolved to reflect her active lifestyle. Yoga pants have become a staple, not just for their comfort, but as a symbol of her commitment to a healthier and more balanced lifestyle. With Ryan away on an offsite project for the past six months, Jayne has found herself facing the challenges that typically come from a long-distance relationship. In the past, she had struggled with long distance relationships, but this time, she was determined to approach it differently. She knew that maintaining her fitness routine was more crucial than ever, as it not only kept her physically healthy but also helped her cope with the emotional distance between her and Ryan. Jayne has had to learn to trust and be patient, giving Ryan the space and understanding that he's immersed in his offsite project. The sporadic communication has made her anxious at times, but she's reminded herself that Ryan's dedication to his work was one of the things she admired about him. This past month, Jayne has struggled with feelings of uncertainty as Ryan has been really out of touch in communication. She has been trying to get herself to understand that the sporadic check-ins are likely due to his busy schedule, and she that she needs to trust in their relationship. Jayne's morning began like any other as she prepared for her remote workday from the comfort of her downtown apartment on the 33rd floor. Stretching and yawning, she embraced the tranquility of her living space with a sense of calm and purpose. Her cozy apartment was adorned with soft furnishings and elegant touches, creating a serene ambiance that inspired her creativity. After freshening up in the bathroom, Jayne made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Today, she was in the mood for a delicious omelette. But as she reached for the vegetables in her fridge, she realized she was out. Undeterred, Jayne decided to take a quick trip downstairs and a couple of blocks over to the morning farmers market. The prospect of getting fresh, organic vegetables excited her, and it was the perfect excuse to take a short break and savor the beauty of the city before diving into her work. Stepping outside her apartment building, Jayne felt the city's vibrant energy enveloping her. The sound of distant traffic and the chatter of people bustling about created a symphony of urban life. With a spring in her step, she strolled down the bustling streets towards the farmers market. As she reached the market, she was greeted by an array of colorful stalls, each offering a delightful selection of fruits and vegetables. The sights and scents of fresh produce invigorated her senses, and she relished the opportunity to engage with local vendors and support the community. Jayne carefully selected the ripest tomatoes, crisp bell peppers, and vibrant greens for her omelette. With her bag filled with the freshest ingredients, she made her way back to her apartment, feeling a sense of fulfillment and contentment. On her walk back to the apartment she decided to stop into her go-to pharmacy, Trust Pharnacy, which is convientally situated at ground floor of her apartment complex. She loves this pharmacy as it's always well stocked with her preferred zero-waste feminine products. This time around she notices that it's not only those products that are well stocked at this pharmacy. As she walked around, she found out that they moved her aisle to the back of the store and she had to traverse two different incontinence aisles. One of which looked like it was dedicated to single packaged adult diapers and the other for larger packages. As Jayne explored the back of the store, she noticed that her aisle had been moved to a more discreet location, hidden away from the main shopping area. She had to navigate through two different incontinence aisles to find her desired products. One aisle displayed single packaged adult diapers, while the other held larger packages. As Jayne approached her aisle, she couldn't help but notice a striking girl, who appeared to be around her age, refilling the diapers on the shelf. She notices the girl's posture and body form. Jayne is envious of how round and plump her ass is. Even after Jayne's rigorous squat routine for her workouts she has nothing on this employee's ass. This girl had a radiant smile, adorned with braces that Jayne found oddly attractive. Her name tag read "Aria" "Excuse me, could you help me get this pad brand?" Jayne asked. "Sure thing! Let me grab the..." Aria's reply was cut short by the store intercom broadcasting her number for clocking out. "I thought this time would never come. I can finally clock out" sighed Aria. She mentioned that she had worked overtime and was finally being relieved. "I'll be right back I have to get the right keys for this shelf" Aria said as she sped out of the aisle. Jayne found Aria's behavior peculiar as she hurriedly passed her, seemingly fidgety and eager to leave. It seemed that there was more to Aria's excitement than just the end of her shift, and Jayne couldn't help but be intrigued. Less than a minute later, Jayne hears footsteps advancing closer to her and sees Aria speed back into the aisle. Aria steps up on a short step stool and reaches for the flap to unlock the shelf and flips it up. "Is it this one?" Aria asked. "It's actually the one next to it that is almost out" replied Jayne. Aria seems to be bouncy in her posture. Since there was only one package of the pads left, Aria had to go on her tipy toes to reach for it. Jayne notices that she is bouncing her heals on the stool like she is jump roping without lifting her feetoff the ground. Suddenly an "ahhhhh" sigh softly exits Aria's lips. There is a sudden pause as Aria freezes with her arms deep in the shelf. After about 5 seconds of being frozen, Aria carefully steps down the stool and hands Jayne the pads. Aria looks at Jayne with a spacey gaze says "Here you go, have a good rest of your day!" Jayne sees Aria take off her apron and walk down the hallway very calmly towards the back room. Jayne couldn't help but observe Aria's movements as she walked towards the backroom to clock out. There was a subtle waddle in her step that Jayne found strangely cute. She tried not to stare, but her eyes were drawn to the oddly placed wet patch on Aria's butt. She notices Aria discreetly reach her hand out to grab something when passing through the aisle. The checker at the front scanned her pads and looked up at Jayne "I take it you must have met Aria, hehehe she is quite the free spirit!" Jayne nervously chuckled as she grabbed the bag and headed home to go make breakfast. As she cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them with care, she couldn't help but admire the panoramic view of the city through her large windows. The morning sun painted the skyline with warm hues, casting a golden glow on the bustling streets below. Jayne sautéed the vegetables with a hint of olive oil, savoring the aroma that filled her home. She expertly folded the omelette, creating a masterpiece of flavors and colors. As Jayne sat at the breakfast table, her mind couldn't help but replay the peculular encounter with Aria, the employee at the store. The puzzle pieces of Aria's behavior seemed to fit together in her mind, and a thrilling realization washed over her. The fidgety behavior, the sudden shift in composure, the weird wet patch on her butt, what she reached for in the aisle... it all pointed to one possibility...Aria wears diapers! But she not only wears them, she uses them. Aria was flooding her diaper while helping Jayne and it had leaked! Jayne changed topics in her head as she noticed it was 8:45 and she had to hurry to finish her morning tasks before the work day. Jayne logged in for the work but throughout her day her mind was racing. She found herself imagining Aria wearing a diaper, feeling the same sensations that had brought her pleasure in her dream. The day went by...Jayne had a typical work day, half virtual calls and half the other time to actually get her work done. Jayne logs off of work a little bit after 5pm. Her phone rings, and she notices that the number shares the same area code as Ryan's work phone. Curiosity mixed with a sense of unease, as she answers the call. It's not Ryan but instead a woman's voice on the phone.
  12. Meet Alice. An 19 years old college girl who, recently has been having some troubles with a slightly leaky bladder. Regular bathroom trips have frustratingly become the norm for her in recent times, as well as frequent sudden urges to go. Which when you're often stuck in a 90 minute class can be a problem.... The last thing she ever expected at her age was to be worried about peeing herself in class, it's the sort of thing she would of happily teased someone other unfortunate student for, but the reality is that the cute college chick now finds herself terrified that with her seemingly misbehaving bladder, she might end up doing what in her mind, would probably totally destroy her all so-important social life. Yesterday was the final straw. She had struggled with every fibre in her body to hold it until the end of class, trying desperately hard not to make her predicament obvious to the rest of her class, as she fought against her throbbing weak bladder. The only way she held it was to constantly remind herself of just how much it would ruin her life if she peed herself in front of everyone. Alice hated History any way, she didn't even know why she picked it. That stupid teacher Mr Slater would never let her leave from the moment the class started. Perhaps because of his perceived perception of her as being one of the more rebellious students in his class, which to be fair to him was probably justified. It was seemingly his way of trying to teach her some much needed discipline... The second her class was dismissed Alice literally ran down the hallway, barging past people. There were a few chuckles as some students noticed the pretty girl clutching between her legs. Eventually she made it into the girls toilets where she charged into one of the cubicles, however before she could even lock the door, or pull down her panties, her baby-like bladder decided to let go...... She stood frozen on the spot only a mere few inches away from the toilet , as if to add insult to injury, as she helplessly let out a huge gasp which was followed by a torrent of uncontrollable pee which gushed out from beneath her pleated skirt, quickly forming a large puddle which spread outside of the cubicle She felt like an embarrassed, un-potty trained child as the reality of what she had done set in, causing her make-up covered cheeks to instantly burn red. The puddle was huge, and there would be no mistaking what it was if someone came in and saw her stood there.. "No no no this can't be fucking happening" shouted the distraught girl as she looked at what she'd done, completely oblivious that she wasn't alone.... She soon heard some giggles from the stall next to her.....her heart instantly skipped a beat as a feeling of dread rushed through her....... In her desperate rush she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed there was someone in the next stall..... Whoever was in there obviously knew about Alice's accident. To be fair no one could of missed the sound of her pee hitting the floor though. It had been like someone putting a tap on full power and left it running for about 20 seconds... Looking down Alice almost died when she saw her accident had crept under the partition wall and into the cubicle the other girl was in...... Knowing now that the girl could potentially ruin her if she knew who she was, Alice, in a complete panic thought hard about what to do. Then she heard a voice.... "Oh dear looks like someone needs some pampers, did Mommy not put one on you this morning little one?" came the condescending voice of the laughing girl Alice fought hard to hold back the tears in her eyes.... Judging by the horrible rough voice the cruel words had been spoken in, Alice thought she recognised the voice as a girl called Lisa Phillips. This was bad news. She was a rather large girl known not to be backward in coming forward. Probably something to do with her own shortcomings, she wasn't afraid to try and bring other people down if she had a chance. If she found out it was Alice, she knew news of her accident would be common knowledge by tomorrow morning.... She decided that she now had two options.. 1. Wait it out until Lisa leaves and hope to god she doesn't wait for her outside or go and get her friends..... which knowing her would probably be extremely wishful thinking... Or 2. Just grab her bag and get the hell out of there before Lisa has a chance to come out of the cubicle and see her..... A concerned Alice examined her skirt realising to her surprise it was pretty much dry, and her shoes had also avoided being soaked. Visually she felt relieved there were actually no signs of her having just peed herself. She knew her expensive blue Victoria's Secret panties were obviously completely soaked, but no one need ever to know about that. She would just stick them straight in the washing machine when she got home. Suddenly, panic set in...........as she heard a click from the stall next to her. Meaning the cubicle door had been unlocked......... Without any time to think, Alice knew she had to act quickly. She grabbed her bag, swung the cubicle door open and ran, with her hands on her head to cover her face.... She bolted for the exit door trying to catch Lisa by surprise, who hadn't expected her to quickly run away. She managed to catch a glimpse of the running Alice from the side and back as she saw her dash for the door, with the girls hands trying to cover her face and her dark brunette coloured hair flying all over the place.... Alice quickly made herself disappear into the crowds, as the toilets were fortunately situated right by the college main entrance, and thankfully it was now home time, meaning what looked like half the college were either stood waiting for friends or headed home for the day.... Lisa charged out of the toilets hoping to get a better look at who the panty pisser was but felt disappointed to be met with nothing but crowds of students walking about.... The question is, did she, or did she not get a good enough look to know which college girl had just had a little pee pee accident?
  13. Good Morning! I have been working on a game for three weeks and I would like you to see what I have done so far, I have been working on the map design and soon I will be able to dedicate myself completely to the story, which I plan to be very long, I have many ideas! If you want to follow this project more closely I will leave you a link to the patreon in which I am publishing it, in addition to the fact that once the map finishes well and has some history, I will publish a totally free Demo. I hope you give me a lot of advice, since I am a little newbie creating video games, and finally I can tell you that right now the game is only in Spanish, although I have thought that for the first version outside of Alpha, it will also be in English! Kisses~ and thanks for reading me n.n Links: https://www.patreon.com/ABDLMiah Links: https://abdlmiah.itch.io/a-whole-week-in-diapers [Alpha 0.21] [Game Update 07/22/2021] In this version, the “potty system” has finally been implemented. I have been working on this update for a long time, now the pee meter works together with the system, when you almost reach the limit the character will pee a little and if it reaches the limit limit will not be able to hold and will let everything out. This update brings 45 different phrases depending on the mental age of the character and how much he wants to go to the bathroom! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  14. Here we go again. As I had just started writing my first story ever (Whispers in the Dark), I already learned a ton. While I still uses crutches (AI), I thought I could already use what I've learned with Whispers in the Dark and apply it to a new, more thought out story. This one is already mostly outlined, has longer chapters and a completely different theme to it. I will still continue Whispers in the Dark of course, but while that one is only roughly planned in my head, this new one is fully planned out on paper. Except for one wetting scene, the build up is rather slow, but it will be worth it. I have a lot planned for this story. You can view the first 3 chapters as some kind of very long prologue. Let me know what you think! Under Pressure Innocence in the Shadow of Power Chapter 1 - Birthday Under the soothing rush of the shower, I felt the weight of today pressing down on me. It was a pivotal moment, the divide between the life I'd grown accustomed to and the uncertain horizon ahead. Each droplet mingling with my tears seemed to underscore the harsh reality: I was saying goodbye to the comfort of my tiny apartment, facing the daunting prospect of nowhere to belong. "Happy birthday, Feli," I murmured to my reflection as I emerged from the steam. Felicity von Sterntal—that's my full name. The "von" part adds a touch of German flair, a nod to nobility, though our family's far from royal. My grandparents, German immigrants who made their way to the USA in the 60s, christened me with the nickname "Feli," though it's pronounced more like "Fehly." I never really knew them, as they passed when I was just a baby. Still, I've grown fond of my name. It's distinct, and it ties me to something, even if it's just the echoes of the past. Drawing upon every bit of strength I could muster, I willed a smile onto my lips, hoping to cloak the uncertainty gnawing at my core. The girl in the mirror, barely reaching five feet tall, her deep blue eyes framed by unruly black hair cascading down to her mid-back, reflected my forced composure. Despite my 18 years, she seemed more like a lost teenager navigating the tumult of adolescence rather than on the brink of adulthood. As I locked eyes with her, the facade faltered, exposing the raw loneliness lurking beneath the surface. She lacked the confidence she sought to project. Stepping into my living room—well, my only room—a wave of sadness engulfed me. Today marked the end of calling this place home. Glancing around, memories flooded back, stirring up a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. In one corner stood my tiny kitchen, equipped with just the basics: stove, sink, fridge, and microwave. It had witnessed its fair share of culinary experiments and mishaps. Opposite the kitchen, my bed nestled into another corner, its modest size a testament to the limited space. Despite its smallness, it had cradled me through countless nights of rest and contemplation. Across from the bed, my desk stood, once housing my PC which I'd already packed away. It had been my sanctuary for studying and coding, a space of productivity and focus. And lots and lots of gaming. Now, everything else was neatly packed in boxes, except for my trusty backpack holding the essentials: phone, laptop, and a few changes of clothes. As I surveyed the remnants of my life here, a shroud of uncertainty settled over my thoughts. I scooped up the final crumbs of cereal from the box, a stark reminder of dwindling supplies in my modest kitchen. With a sigh, I sank into the worn chair at my desk, spoon in hand, and retrieved the letter once more. Its contents had been etched into my memory since its arrival on the day of my high school graduation, just weeks ago. As I savored the last bites of cereal, I read over the letter one last time. Dear Felicity, We hope this letter finds you well. It is with careful consideration that your mother and I have reached a decision regarding your financial support. As you have successfully completed your high school education and are soon to reach the age of majority, we believe it is appropriate to adjust our financial arrangements accordingly. Regrettably, we must inform you that, effective immediately, we will no longer be providing you with financial assistance, including your allowance. Furthermore, in light of your impending 18th birthday, arrangements have been made for movers to assist you in vacating the apartment that we have provided for you. We view this transition as a gesture of our support and encouragement as you embark on the next chapter of your life. Please be prepared to surrender your keys to the designated representative upon their arrival. With warm regards, Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal It was a cruel slap in the face, a harsh reminder of my parents' indifference, their decision to cut off the last lifeline of financial support right on the brink of my adulthood. As I absorbed the cold, impersonal words of the letter, a surge of anger and resentment boiled within me. This wasn't just about money; it was a final abandonment, a deliberate shove into the abyss of independence. The memory of how I came to live in this apartment at such a young age flooded back, stirring up a blend of bitterness and resignation. My parents, consumed by their careers and absent from my life, had effectively abandoned their parental duties when I was just fifteen. Their presence had never been significant anyway; nannies had filled the void left by their absence, their faces blending into a blur of caretakers who had come and gone over the years. Despite their neglect, the apartment had provided a semblance of stability in a chaotic world. It was my sanctuary, my own space amidst the turmoil. And now, as they callously stripped away even that small comfort, I couldn't help but feel bitterness at the injustice of it all. With a heavy heart, I folded the letter and set it aside, its implications casting a palpable weight in the air. The cereal in my bowl had lost its appeal, each spoonful a bitter reminder of the uncertainty looming ahead. As the minutes stretched on, I pondered the cruel irony of their supposed "birthday gift," a gesture tinged with spite rather than kindness. And as the harsh reality of my situation settled in, I steeled myself for the turbulent road ahead, resolved to carve out my own path despite the hurdles in my way. As the doorbell shattered the quiet of my apartment, I braced myself for the inevitable. With a steadying breath, I crossed the room and swung open the door, greeted by the stern gaze of a man in his mid-fifties, dressed in a somber suit. His presence filled the doorway, a forewarning of the chaos awaiting me. Introducing himself as a representative of the von Sterntal family, a bitter irony settled over me at the shared surname, a reminder of the tangled connections binding me to this tumultuous moment. Behind him, a group of movers stood with downcast expressions, their sympathetic glances betraying their discomfort at being complicit in my forced eviction. It seemed they had been briefed on the situation, their professional demeanor tinged with a touch of empathy. "Miss von Sterntal," the representative began, his voice laced with formality. "I assume you're aware of the purpose of our visit," he continued, his gaze drifting to the neatly packed boxes scattered throughout the apartment, silent witnesses to the impending upheaval. I simply nodded, the lump in my throat stifling any words that threatened to escape. "Very well," he said briskly, his tone businesslike. "If you could just sign here and hand over the keys, we'll take care of the rest." His smile carried a hint of reassurance, emphasizing that the movers' services came without cost to me. With a resigned acceptance, I took the document and signed it, my signature a stark acknowledgment of my departure from the property. Handing over the keys, I watched as the movers sprang into action, loading my belongings into the waiting truck. It was a transaction devoid of choice, a forced relinquishment of my home, as I stood by, a silent witness to the unraveling of my life. As the movers finished loading my belongings, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, the only link to the life I was leaving behind. With a final click, the representative locked the door, marking the end of an era. As we headed towards the waiting truck, he spoke up once more, offering me a semblance of choice amidst the chaos. "The movers will take you wherever you want," he said, his words a small act of kindness in the midst of turmoil. And just before we parted ways, he added, "Oh, and Miss von Sterntal, happy birthday by the way." His well-wishes hung in the air, a bitter reminder of the cruel twist of fate that marked the day. With a handshake and a farewell, he left me standing there, the taste of bitterness lingering. As the truck pulled away, carrying me towards an uncertain future, I couldn't help but resent the hollow birthday wishes, a stark reminder of the emptiness awaiting me. I directed the movers towards a storage unit I had booked online for a week, a temporary sanctuary for the fragments of my past life. It was a pragmatic solution, born from necessity with the scant funds left to me by my parents. As we navigated the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't shake off the irony of my circumstances. Despite being the offspring of the private owners and executives of a multi-billion-dollar tech empire nestled in the heart of NYC, their generosity towards me had always been in short supply. Their reminders of my status as their "accident" reverberated in my thoughts, a persistent reminder of my position on the fringes of their world. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that despite their wealth and influence, I was little more than an inconvenience to them. And as we unloaded the remnants of my former life into the storage unit, I felt the weight of their neglect bearing down on me, a burden I carried with me into an uncertain future. As the movers drove off, leaving me to face the stark reality of my situation, I gazed at the orderly array of boxes in the storage unit. Each one contained memories and possessions, now symbolizing the entirety of my existence. This was it – my entire life condensed into a confined space, a tangible manifestation of the upheaval that had swept through my world in a single day. Overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, I sank to the ground, tears streaming down my cheeks as emotions flooded over me. Time seemed to blur as I sat amidst my belongings, the weight of my newfound homelessness crashing down on me in relentless waves. In that moment of vulnerability, every suppressed feeling from the day – the abandonment, the betrayal, the uncertainty – converged, drowning me in a torrent of despair. I couldn't tell how long I stayed there, lost in the abyss of my anguish. All I knew was that this was my reality now – adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with nowhere to call home. As I closed the storage unit, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, mingling with the chill of the morning air. My backpack felt like a lifeline, its weight a reminder of the few possessions I still possessed. While my plans for the days ahead seemed meager, tinged with a sense of futility, I trudged along the bustling streets of New York City. Each step carried the weight of uncertainty, a burden I had grown accustomed to bearing alone. As I rounded a corner, my gaze inevitably fell upon the towering silhouette of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper, its imposing presence etched into the city skyline. I knew every facet of that building all too well, a monument to the wealth and success my parents had achieved. Yet, it also symbolized the stark divide between their world of privilege and my own neglected existence. High above, on the top floor, lay the domain of Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal, my parents, seemingly peering down on me from their ivory tower. The shadow cast by their empire seemed to mirror the shadow they had cast over my life, leaving me in the darkness of their neglect. Shaking my head to dispel the troubling thoughts, I stepped into the warmth of a nearby cafe, seeking refuge from the chill of the city streets. Dwelling on the weight of my circumstances was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment; practical matters demanded my attention. With each passing moment, the reality of my situation loomed larger—I didn't even have a place to rest my head for the night. The uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling a sense of urgency as I scanned the bustling cafe for a temporary respite from my troubles. Choosing a solitary spot by the expansive window, I couldn't help but feel drawn to the lone chair stationed beside the table. It seemed to mirror my own isolation, a silent companion in the midst of a crowded cafe. As I settled into the seat, I signaled the server and placed an order for a simple tea, mindful of my dwindling funds. The price felt steep for such a basic beverage, but I knew the cost was necessary to gain access to the cafe's WiFi—a lifeline in my current predicament. With a sense of resolve, I awaited my order, hoping that the warmth of the tea would offer some solace amidst the uncertainty of my circumstances. Taking a cautious sip of the steaming tea, I set my laptop upon the table and powered it up, the soft glow of the screen casting a comforting light in the dimly lit cafe. With a sense of determination, I delved into the task at hand, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I navigated through job listings and online applications. The simplicity of my plan belied the daunting reality of my situation—I was an 18-year-old with only a high school diploma, adrift in the competitive landscape of New York City's job market. Yet, despite the odds stacked against me, I poured all my energy into the search, knowing that every opportunity seized could mean the difference between survival and succumbing to the shadows of my circumstances. As I sifted through yet another round of discouraging rejection emails flooding my inbox, my focus was abruptly shattered by the boisterous entrance of a man engaged in a heated phone conversation. His voice carried above the ambient chatter of the cafe, drawing the attention of patrons with its intensity. Despite my initial reluctance to eavesdrop, I found myself inadvertently tuning in to his conversation, snippets of disdain toward a VIP client punctuating the air. Intrigued, I observed him as he made his way to the counter, his animated gestures betraying the gravity of his conversation. With a sense of curiosity, I couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of his world, momentarily distracted from the weight of my own struggles by the drama unfolding before me. Feigning engrossment in my laptop screen, I diverted my gaze as the man collected his coffee and turned in my direction. Discomfort prickled at the edges of my consciousness; I loathed the idea of being caught staring, a violation of the unspoken etiquette of public spaces. With practiced nonchalance, I buried myself in the facade of productivity, my fingers tracing absent patterns on the keyboard as I scrolled through meaningless content. As the man fell silent, a fleeting sense of dread coiled within me, only to be shattered by the resumption of his conversation moments later. Relief washed over me as he departed the cafe without so much as a second glance in my direction, leaving me to exhale a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The brief encounter served as a stark reminder of the delicate balance between privacy and observation in the bustling landscape of city life. As the hours slipped away, so too did the fragile tendrils of hope that had buoyed my spirits earlier in the day. Despite my best efforts, the job search yielded little more than a string of rejections, each one serving as a stark reminder of the uphill battle I faced in securing employment. With a heavy heart, I conceded to the reality of the situation—I had made little progress, and time was slipping away. Gathering my belongings and tucking my laptop securely into my backpack, I steeled myself for the next hurdle: finding shelter for the night. The uncertainty loomed large, casting a shadow over my already precarious existence, but I refused to succumb to despair. With determination fueling my steps, I pushed open the door of the cafe and stepped back out into the bustling streets of New York City. With a bag of chips clasped tightly in my hand, I embarked on a solitary journey through the labyrinth of city streets, my footsteps echoing against the pavement as I wandered aimlessly. The neon glow of storefronts illuminated the impending darkness, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the concrete. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, a constant reminder of the meager sustenance I had managed to scrounge up for dinner. Yet, as I roamed the unfamiliar terrain, a sense of helplessness washed over me, amplifying the weight of my circumstances. The prospect of renting a room or even a bed felt like an impossible luxury, far beyond the reach of my limited means. Lost in the sea of uncertainty, I struggled to discern a path forward, the cityscape looming around me like an insurmountable obstacle. Sitting down heavily on a bench, I sought solace in the simple act of munching on the salt-flavored chips, their flavor resembling the silent tears tracing paths down my cheeks. As I gazed into the distance, my eyes inevitably landed on the looming presence of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper once again, its towering silhouette a constant reminder of my own inadequacy in the shadow of my parents' success. A surge of defiance rose within me, driving me to shake off the suffocating weight of helplessness that threatened to engulf me. With a resolute shake of my head, I refused to surrender to despair. Pushing myself upright, I continued to scour the streets for any glimmer of hope, a beacon amidst the darkness that threatened to consume me whole. Rounding a corner, my weary eyes alighted upon a surprisingly pristine alleyway nestled beside the imposing facade of a law firm. Shielded from the harsh gaze of the bustling street and buffered from the relentless gusts of wind that swept through the city, the alley offered a semblance of respite amidst the chaos of urban life. With darkness descending upon the cityscape and exhaustion weighing heavy upon my shoulders, I knew that this secluded alcove would have to suffice for the night. Despite the pang of discomfort that gnawed at my conscience, I resolved to make the best of the situation, clinging to the fleeting sense of security offered by the sheltered confines of the alleyway. With a weary sigh, I nestled against the unyielding coolness of the concrete wall, my jacket wrapped tightly around me in a feeble attempt to stave off the chill of the night air. Clutching my backpack to my chest like a lifeline, I sought solace in the familiar weight of my belongings, their presence a source of comfort amidst the uncertainty that loomed around me. As exhaustion weighed heavy upon my eyelids, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the cacophony of the city fading into the background as I surrendered to the oblivion of slumber. In the solitude of the alleyway, I found a fleeting sense of peace, a respite from the trials and tribulations that had plagued me throughout the day. And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the moonlight, I surrendered myself to the darkness, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of dreams. Chapter 2 - John I woke up to the raucous symphony of the waking city, my body stiff and sore from the uncomfortable concrete floor of the alley. The cold seeped into my bones, a reminder of the unforgiving night that had passed. Determination surged within me as I made a mental note to invest in a sleeping bag, albeit a budget-friendly one. Luxury was a distant concept now. Every expense had to be carefully weighed against necessity, but not freezing to death seemed necessary enough. The distant rumble of a garbage truck echoed down the street, prompting me to glance towards the nearby dumpster that had offered me some semblance of privacy throughout the night. Taking it as my cue to depart, I pushed myself up from the cold concrete, aching muscles protesting the movement. With a determined resolve, I reaffirmed my plan for the day, the same as yesterday, unaltered despite the discomforts of the night. With my trusty backpack snug against my back, I traversed the bustling streets, a lone figure amidst the throngs of morning commuters. The aroma of freshly baked goods wafted from a nearby bakery, tempting me with its promise of sustenance. Yielding to the growling protest of my stomach, I indulged in a modest yet satisfying sandwich, procured with the meager funds at my disposal. Satiated, albeit temporarily, I continued on my journey, guided by a sense of familiarity towards the same cafe that had become my refuge the day before. Entering the cafe, I was greeted by a comforting wave of warmth and the familiar aroma of brewing coffee. It felt like a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my current circumstances. Glancing over to the corner where I had sat the day before, I breathed a sigh of relief to find it still vacant, my spot waiting for me like an old friend. With a sense of quiet determination, I settled into the familiar surroundings, ordering another one of the overpriced teas that had become a guilty pleasure amidst my frugality. Opening my laptop, I delved once more into the relentless task of scouring job listings, navigating the virtual labyrinth in search of a beacon of hope amidst the sea of rejections. It was a bitter irony that plagued my thoughts as I sifted through the digital landscape of job postings. The online forums, where praise flowed freely for my coding prowess, seemed worlds apart from the harsh reality of my current situation. Despite being self-taught and garnering accolades from virtual strangers, I had faltered in monetizing my skills, relegating them to the realm of mere hobbyism. Coding and gaming had long served as my refuge, a sanctuary from the tumultuous years of high school and the suffocating grip of loneliness. Yet, as I now grappled with the daunting task of securing employment to sustain myself, the weight of my perceived failure pressed down upon me like a suffocating blanket. If only my parents had told me sooner, I would’ve probably had something figured out by now. Lost in the labyrinth of my own thoughts, I found myself gazing absently out the window, the passing scenery a blur against the canvas of my mind. It was then that I noticed the familiar figure of the man from the day before, striding purposefully towards the entrance of the cafe. A pang of apprehension gripped me, prompting a swift diversion of my attention back to the glowing screen of my laptop. Tuning in to the ambient sounds of the cafe, I couldn't help but overhear his order, a simple request for a coffee to go, mirroring his routine from the previous day. A subtle sense of curiosity stirred within me, mingling with a tinge of unease as I pondered the significance of his presence once more. As I remained engrossed in my task of scouring job listings and dispatching applications into the digital void, the absence of the man's departure did not escape my notice. Despite his initial intention of ordering a coffee to go, the distinct lack of movement behind me hinted at his lingering presence within the confines of the cafe. Resolutely keeping my focus trained on the flickering glow of my laptop screen, I resisted the temptation to steal a glance over my shoulder, preferring to remain ensconced in my own world. Time drifted by in the steady rhythm of keystrokes and mouse clicks, punctuated only by the murmurs of other patrons and the occasional clink of ceramic against tabletops. It wasn't until a considerable while later that I observed his departure from the corner of my eye, his enigmatic presence departing as quietly as it had arrived. A fleeting curiosity stirred within me, fleeting thoughts of his peculiar aura and expensive attire crossing my mind before swiftly dissipating amidst the urgency of my own endeavors. As the day wore on and my focus waned, I made the decision to call it quits, at least for the time being. With a newfound determination fueled by a semblance of planning, I bid farewell to the comforting confines of the cafe and ventured back out into the bustling streets. Remembering the necessity of securing a sleeping bag for the impending night, I retraced my steps to the store I had spotted that morning. Scanning the shelves for the most budget-friendly option, I finally settled on the cheapest offering. Though it offered no protection against dampness, it was a small comfort knowing that it would stave off the biting cold, leaving me with enough funds to sustain myself with nourishment for a few more days to come. With a sense of resignation gnawing at my insides, I purchased another bag of chips, though acutely aware of their meager nutritional value. As I trudged back towards the alley that had become my makeshift refuge, I couldn't help but cast a glance towards the towering spire that housed my parents' corporate empire. Biting down on a chip, the taste a bitter reminder of my circumstances, I felt a surge of despair welling within me. The sight of their skyscraper loomed over me like a mocking specter, a constant reminder of the chasm that separated us, both physically and emotionally. With clenched teeth and a fervent hope burning within my chest, I prayed that this dismal routine would soon become nothing more than a painful memory of a bygone era. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the biting chill of the night descended upon the city, I nestled into the familiarity of my chosen spot within the alley. With the thin barrier of the sleeping bag offering a modicum of warmth, I settled down, leaning against my backpack for a semblance of comfort. Tears welled in my eyes, tracing silent pathways down my cheeks, as the crushing weight of my predicament enveloped me once more. In the darkness, surrounded by the echoes of solitude, I felt the suffocating embrace of hopelessness tighten its grip around my heart. Yet, amidst the despair, a flicker of determination burned within me, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the engulfing darkness. Clinging to that glimmer of resilience like a lifeline, I vowed silently to myself that I would not succumb, that I would persevere against the odds, no matter how insurmountable they seemed. For in the depths of my despair, I found a resolve that whispered fiercely in the silence: I could not give up. I would not give up. As I stirred from my fitful slumber, the city had already sprung to life around me, its bustling energy a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the alley. Despite the persistent ache that clung to my body like a lingering shadow, I couldn't help but acknowledge the small comfort afforded by the sleeping bag wrapped around me. Unlike the previous night, the shivers that had plagued me were noticeably absent. The sleeping bag had proven to be a worthwhile investment. With a weary yet grateful sigh, I rose to my feet and carefully packed up my sleeping bag, folding it neatly as I prepared to face another day. Embracing the familiarity of my newfound routine, I steeled myself for the challenges that lay ahead. As I retraced the familiar steps of my routine, grabbing the same sandwich from the same bakery and making my way to the same cafe, I couldn't help but marvel at the swiftness with which humans could fall into patterns. Yet, upon entering the cafe, the comfort of routine shattered in an instant. Seated at my usual spot in front of the window, in the corner, was the enigmatic man who had piqued my curiosity the days before. His gaze was fixed out the window, lost in thought as he sipped on his coffee. A sense of intrigue tinged with apprehension washed over me as I hesitated in the doorway, uncertain of how to proceed in the wake of this unexpected disruption to my routine. With a resentful glance at the man's back, I took a seat behind him, my frustration simmering beneath the surface as I ordered my tea and opened my laptop to resume my job hunt. Sighing heavily, I couldn't help but feel the weight of disappointment as I sifted through the slew of new rejections that had flooded my inbox. Another day stretching out before me, seemingly destined to end in the same vein of fruitless endeavors and dashed hopes. Lost in the rhythm of typing out applications, I was jolted from my focus by the subtle stirrings of the man in front of me. Ignoring the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the screen, hoping to avoid any unwanted interactions. Yet, despite my efforts to feign indifference, I could sense his probing gaze boring into me, a silent weight that I could no longer ignore. After what felt like an eternity of silent scrutiny, I relented, lifting my eyes from the screen to meet his gaze. To my surprise, he had moved closer, now sitting directly in front of me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Hi, I'm John," he said, extending a hand in greeting, but I remained rigid, my gaze locked in a glare, still nursing my resentment for his disruption of my routine. His attempt at cordiality was met with my silent rebuke. "All right, all right," he continued, his tone laced with a hint of apology, "I apologize for taking your spot, but I needed an excuse to talk to you." His words hung in the air, punctuated by the weight of his admission. Despite my lingering irritation, a flicker of curiosity sparked within me, compelling me to lower my guard ever so slightly. "That's a pretty bad excuse," I retorted sharply, my glare unwavering as I remained guarded. "Yeah, probably," he chuckled in response, his admission punctuated by a hint of self-awareness. Yet, before I could respond further, he continued, his demeanor shifting to a more serious tone. "Anyway, I wanted to make you an offer," he stated, his eyes appraising me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "And I think you'd be perfect for this." Despite my lingering apprehension, the mention of an offer piqued my curiosity, stirring a mixture of intrigue and caution within me. His lingering gaze, however, remained a discomforting reminder of the unease that still lingered between us. "What kind of offer?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as he smirked in response, a gesture that already grated on my nerves. "It's something I can't talk about in detail here, but it will be very profitable for you and you seem perfect for this," he replied, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made me uneasy. He jotted down his phone number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table before standing up. "I bet you could really use some money right now," he remarked, his eyes trailing over to my backpack and sleeping bag beside me, sending a chill down my spine. As he made his exit from the cafe, he spoke once more, his parting words hanging in the air like a weight upon my shoulders. "Give me a ring, Miss von Sterntal," he said, the mention of my name sending a jolt of mortification through me. I watched in silence as he left the cafe, his words echoing in my mind, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in their wake. As I sat there, grappling with the unsettling revelation that dawned upon me, I pieced together the puzzle in my mind. He had been watching me, studying my every move. Perhaps he had glanced over my shoulder yesterday, observing the desperation with which I scoured job listings and sifted through rejection letters. My name, Felicity von Sterntal, had undoubtedly been revealed through the numerous applications I had submitted, a detail he could have easily gleaned. And the presence of the sleeping bag, a symbol of my desperation and downtrodden circumstances, likely provided him with the final confirmation he needed. It became painfully clear that I must have appeared to him as the perfect victim for whatever scheme he was plotting. The realization sent a chill down my spine, a wave of vulnerability washing over me as I grappled with the unsettling implications of his calculated observation. With a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach, I resolved to proceed with caution, wary of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of his enticing offer. As I continued to sift through job offers, the memory of John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the reservations gnawing at my conscience, I couldn't shake the allure of his seemingly affluent demeanor and the enigmatic promise he had made. His professional attire and confident demeanor bespoke a level of wealth and influence that was undeniably intriguing, especially for someone who appeared to be in his late twenties. Yet, as I found myself briefly succumbing to the fleeting temptation, a resolute determination surged within me. I shook my head. I refused to entertain the notion of compromising my principles, even in the face of such uncertainty and desperation. The thought of possibly engaging in anything of a sexual nature for monetary gain was quickly dismissed, my self-worth and dignity too precious to be bartered away. Also it’s not like I have any sexual experience anyway. However, despite my resolve, a speck of curiosity about John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind. As I continued to sift through job offers, his presence remained a lingering question mark, tugging at the edges of my consciousness with a persistent allure that I couldn't quite shake. The day dragged on, each passing moment marked by the familiar sting of disappointment as my efforts yielded no success. Despite the mysterious interruption earlier, I quickly regained my focus, returning to the monotonous routine of job hunting. A while later, seated in the same spot, beneath the looming shadow of the skyscraper that towered above me and reminded me of my past, I found myself lost in thought, munching on the same kind of chips that had become a staple of my meager diet. As I chewed on the familiar salty snack, the memories of the past days flooded through me, a relentless tide of reminders of my struggles and setbacks. The relentless cycle of uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder of the uphill battle I faced in clawing my way out of the depths of despair. Amidst the turmoil of my thoughts, a simple realization emerged: I needed to break free from the confines of this repetitive existence, starting with something as simple as changing my dinner menu for tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and began the familiar trek towards my secluded alley. As I passed by the office of the law firm, now a fixture in my daily surroundings, I couldn't help but steal a longing glance through the windows, pondering the lives of those within. Lost in idle daydreams, my attention was abruptly shattered when I found myself locking eyes with a man about to step into an elevator at the back of the lobby. It was John, and to my horror, he had noticed me too. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, flushing my cheeks with embarrassment as I hastily averted my gaze and bolted around the corner, seeking refuge in the safety of my alley sanctuary. The encounter left me rattled, a knot of apprehension coiling in the pit of my stomach as I grappled with the unsettling implications of our unexpected meeting. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me as I settled into my makeshift resting place behind the dumpster, seeking solace in the refuge of sleep. Yet, despite my weariness, rest proved elusive as I found myself caught in a hazy limbo between wakefulness and slumber. Memories of the day swirled around in my mind like a tumultuous whirlwind, refusing to grant me the respite I so desperately sought, leaving me in a disorienting haze where they swirled like fragments of a fractured reality. Amidst the fog of my memories, John's face emerged intermittently, a haunting presence that lingered on the fringes of my consciousness. Despite my best efforts to find respite in sleep, his haunting gaze seemed to follow me into the realm of dreams, casting a shadow of unease over the fragile sanctuary of my thoughts. And so, I remained suspended in a daze, trapped in the liminal space between consciousness and oblivion, grappling with the unsettling echoes of the day's events that refused to be silenced. As I drifted on the precipice of sleep, I was violently yanked back into consciousness by the sensation of someone shaking me with rough urgency. With a gasp, my eyes flew open to behold two looming figures, their silhouettes cast in stark relief against the feeble glow of the street lantern that pierced the darkness of the alley. A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, as fear surged through every fiber of my being, rendering me paralyzed in shock. Tears streamed down my face in torrents, blurring my vision as I trembled uncontrollably, a helpless captive to the terror that gripped me in its merciless embrace. Frozen in place, I could do naught but gaze up at the looming shadows, consumed by a suffocating sense of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. "Hey girl, give us all of your money!" one of the figures demanded, their voice dripping with menace as a sinister smirk danced upon their lips, barely visible in the dim illumination of the street lantern. "I-I-I don't have a-any," I managed to stammer out through trembling lips, my voice barely above a whisper as tears continued to stream down my face, betraying my overwhelming fear. Before I could even comprehend their next move, they lunged forward, seizing my backpack from my grasp with ruthless efficiency. Despite my feeble attempts to resist, I found myself held down by unseen hands, rendered powerless by the shock that still held me captive in its grip. Helplessly, I watched as they emptied the contents of my backpack onto the cold pavement, their greedy hands sifting through my meager belongings with callous disregard. Each item strewn haphazardly before me served as a stark reminder of the fragility of my existence, a harsh testament to the cruelty of fate in a world that showed no mercy to the downtrodden. "HEY!" a voice suddenly pierced the tense air, echoing through the alleyway as the sound of running footsteps grew louder. "What's going on here? Leave her alone!" the voice thundered with authority, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh shit, let's go," one of the figures muttered to the other, their panicked voices barely audible over the pounding of my heart. With swift movements, they fled towards the other end of the alley, their forms disappearing into the darkness as they vanished from sight. The mysterious man, who had come to my rescue, pursued them briefly before coming to a halt, realizing they were already out of reach. With a heavy exhale, he turned his attention back to me, his gaze softening as he took in the sight before him. I remained huddled atop my sleeping bag, my face buried in my knees which I clutched tightly to my chest. Shivers wracked my body as tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the remnants of fear that still lingered in the air. My meager belongings lay strewn around me, a pitiful testament to the vulnerability that had been laid bare in the face of danger. "Miss von Sterntal?" The words escaped the mysterious man's lips in a gasp of recognition, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth as he took in the sight before him. My eyes lifted for the first time, meeting his gaze, and the realization washed over me like a tidal wave. "John?" I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Too many thoughts and feelings raced through my mind at once, leaving me reeling in the aftermath of the harrowing ordeal. In that moment, as our eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding, the boundaries between us blurred, and I found myself clinging to the unexpected connection that had emerged between us in the midst of chaos. Chapter 3 - Luxury John crouched in front of me, his concern etched on his face. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm. I shook my head weakly, huddling closer to my knees on the sleeping bag. His eyes scanned the alleyway, taking in the scattered contents of my backpack. "Is this where you've been staying?" he inquired, his tone filled with both curiosity and concern. I nodded silently, feeling a rush of shame at the admission. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this," I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "I'll just gather my things and leave." As I started to clumsily gather my belongings and was about to stand up from my spot, I noticed the puddle underneath me and the wet clammy feeling of my pants. I must've wet myself out of fear. My face blushed crimson as another pang of shame overcame me. My pace quickened in an effort to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. "Felicity, wait," John said as he gently grabbed my arm, preventing me from packing any further. "Feli," I corrected softly, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me as I avoided his gaze. "I like Feli more," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his, noticing the genuine concern etched into his expression. He released my arm, realizing he had my attention. "Listen, Feli," John began, his eyes holding mine with a mix of gentleness and authority. "I don't know exactly what your deal is, but I can see you're down on your luck. And I'm sure you have nowhere else to go, right?" he continued, his tone soft yet probing. I nodded meekly, feeling a knot form in my stomach as he scratched the stubble on his chin, his gaze sweeping over the scene before us. "I don't like intruding," he admitted, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly at his remark, recalling our awkward encounter in the café. "But I can't leave a young girl like you out on the streets like this." I looked down, feeling a fresh wave of shame wash over me, making me feel even more vulnerable. "How about you come to my place for tonight? I've got a guest room where you can clean up and get some rest." His gaze fell on the puddle underneath me, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Does that sound good?" John asked, his voice tinged with concern. I hesitated for a moment, weighing my options. Despite my apprehension, the thought of a shower and a bed was too tempting to resist. I nodded meekly, realizing I had little choice but to trust him for now. With a sense of gratitude mingled with uncertainty, I allowed John to help me pack up my few belongings. Together, we made our way down the alley towards the street where a car was waiting for him, ready to take me to a place that was entirely unfamiliar yet offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the night. As we settled into the backseat of the car, the driver spoke up from the front. "Good evening, Mr. Harrington. Am I still bringing you back to your place?" he inquired, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "Yes, please bring us home, Chuck," John confirmed, his voice carrying a note of weariness. The level of wealth where you could afford your own personal driver wasn't foreign to me, but it had been quite a few years since I'd experienced it firsthand. I sighed softly as I slumped back into my seat, feeling the uncomfortable wetness of my pants clinging to me, the exhaustion of the encounter finally catching up with me. As we passed through the bustling streets of NYC, my head rested against the cool window, my gaze fixed on the vibrant lights of the nightlife swirling by in a blur of colors and motion. A mix of uncertainty and hope tugged at my mind, a feeling that had become all too familiar to me lately. Amidst the chaos of the city, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for me in this unexpected turn of events. We entered the underground garage, bidding farewell to Chuck as he drove off. The dimly lit space felt strangely quiet after the chaos of the city streets. Following John, we made our way to an elevator, and he pressed the topmost button. The realization dawned on me that John's wealth surpassed what I had initially assumed, a notion that left me both impressed and apprehensive. As we ascended in the elevator, a sense of awkwardness settled between us, the silence punctuated only by the soft hum of the machinery. Finally, the doors opened, revealing a narrow hallway with just one door at the end. A penthouse, I surmised, my heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. John opened the door, inviting me into a world I had thought I would never see again. "Make yourself at home," John said, leading us through a small entryway into a sprawling living space. My eyes widened in awe as I took in the grandeur of the room. A luxurious couch sat in front of a massive TV atop a faux fireplace, exuding an air of opulence. One wall was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. I couldn't help but grimace as I spotted my parents' skyscraper in the distance, a stark reminder of the world I had left behind. An archway led to a spacious kitchen and dining area on one side of the room, while a few steps ascended to a corridor on the other. John guided me down the corridor and opened the first door on his right, revealing the large guest room. A queen-size bed occupied one wall, with a TV mounted opposite and a dresser beneath. In one corner, an en-suite awaited, offering a welcome respite from the chaos of the streets. "There's shower gel, towels, and spare toothbrushes. Do you need anything else?" John asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I shook my head, still stunned by the luxury and overwhelmed with gratitude. "Alright, I'll let you get cleaned up then," he said, turning to leave before pausing. "Oh, and are you hungry?" My stomach growled involuntarily, betraying my hunger. I was about to decline, not wanting to impose, but John's grin softened my resolve. "I'll make some sandwiches. Just join me in the kitchen when you're done," he said, offering a glimmer of warmth in the midst of uncertainty. With that, he left the en-suite, closing the door behind him, leaving me to soak in the surreal reality of my surroundings. As the warm water cascaded over me in the shower, washing away the grime and weariness of the night, a sense of clarity began to seep back into my mind. "I guess now I have to at least hear him out on his offer," I mumbled to myself, the words echoing in the solitude of the bathroom. Stepping out of the shower, I dried myself off and donned a shirt and sweatpants from my backpack, feeling a semblance of comfort return with each familiar garment. With hesitant steps, I made my way towards the kitchen, where John sat at the dining table, enjoying a sandwich. An identical one sat on a plate opposite him, awaiting my arrival. I sat down, muttering a quiet "Thank you," before taking a bite of the sandwich, savoring the simple pleasure of a warm meal. As I ate, John began to speak, his voice calm yet determined. "Alright, here's the deal," he started, pausing between bites. "I'll let you stay the night and get some rest, and I'll be gone already when you wake up tomorrow." He continued, outlining my options for the following day. "Either you leave before I'm back from work, and I'll leave you alone from now on," he explained, his gaze searching mine for any hint of reaction. "Or you decide to stay and hear out my offer when I come home from work." I swallowed my bite of sandwich, considering his words carefully. "Why don't you just tell me about the offer right now?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. But John shook his head, his expression unreadable. "I can't," he replied firmly. "Not yet, at least. But I can tell you tomorrow evening. You're still free to decline once you've heard it, however." I nodded in understanding, realizing that there was more to this offer than met the eye. With a sense of anticipation tinged with apprehension, I finished my sandwich, knowing that the following day would bring with it a decision that could change the course of my life. "Go and get some rest," John commanded, his tone firm yet not unkind, as he cleared away our plates and brought them to the kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine at his authoritative demeanor, but in the face of his generosity, I complied with his request nonetheless. As I settled into the plush comfort of the bed, the warmth enveloping me like a gentle embrace, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn't let fear or uncertainty hold me back any longer. I would hear him out the next day, whatever his offer may be. "I just really, really hope it's nothing sexual," I whispered to myself, the words lingering in the quiet of the room as I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with thoughts of the unknown future that awaited me. I woke up the next day, feeling surprisingly refreshed after a restful night's sleep. As I stretched and shook off the remnants of sleep, a sense of vitality surged through me. It had been a while since I had slept so well. Venturing out of the guest room, I found myself alone in the spacious apartment. John had already left, as he had promised. I made my way to the living room, drawn by the allure of the sprawling cityscape visible through the window. The sight of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper in the distance stirred a mix of emotions within me, a constant reminder of my past. "Make yourself at home," John's words echoed in my mind, and I resolved to do just that. Pushing aside the thoughts of my parents, I strode into the kitchen, where a delicious breakfast awaited me. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. To my surprise, there was a small note waiting for me on the table. "Make yourself at home. I'll be back at 6. See you then! -J," it read, a simple yet thoughtful gesture. I couldn't help but wonder if John already knew that I would stay to hear him out. With gratitude in my heart, I sat down and began to savor the hearty breakfast, allowing myself to indulge in the simple pleasures of the moment, grateful for the warmth and hospitality that John had extended to me. As the hours passed by, I found myself unable to shake off the nervous anticipation that gripped me like a vice. Despite my initial intention to relax and enjoy the comforts of John's penthouse, the looming uncertainty of the evening weighed heavily on my mind. I tried to distract myself by flipping through channels on the TV, but my attention kept drifting back to the impending conversation with John. What could his offer possibly be? And more importantly, what would it mean for my future? With each passing minute, my nerves seemed to intensify, the unknown stretching out before me like an endless abyss. Despite my best efforts to quell my anxieties, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach, reminding me of the high stakes of the decision that awaited me. I was sprawled out on the couch, a large glass of juice sitting on the table in front of me when I heard the front door open. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was only 5 pm. Curious, I craned my neck to peer over the back of the couch toward the entryway, where a woman emerged carrying two bags of groceries. Our gazes met, and a moment of surprise passed between us. "Oh, hello, miss..." she began, expecting me to fill in the pause with my name. "Feli," I replied, offering a small smile. "Okay, Miss Feli, my apologies. I didn't know Mr. Harrington had a guest over," she continued, her tone polite yet curious. I chuckled softly at that. "It's just Feli," I clarified, feeling a pang of discomfort at the formalities. "That's short for Felicity." She nodded in understanding, her warm smile never faltering. "Who are you?" I questioned, returning the inquiry. "Call me Marge," she replied with a friendly smile, radiating a sense of maternal warmth. "I'm here to cook dinner for Mr. Harrington... and you, I guess?" she explained, her tone tinged with uncertainty. "I guess so," I replied with a shrug, watching as she excused herself to the kitchen to begin her work. As the minutes ticked by, I found it increasingly difficult to focus on the TV, my nerves getting the better of me. The tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen only served to heighten my anticipation, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. Then, at precisely 6:05 pm, the front door swung open once again. "Feli, I'm home," John called out, his voice carrying a sense of warmth and familiarity. I couldn't help but marvel at how confident he seemed that I would stay, a realization that brought a small smile to my lips as our gazes met. Despite my lingering nerves, I felt a wave of relief wash over me at the sight of him. His warm smile was infectious, filling me with a sense of comfort and reassurance. While uncertainty still loomed on the horizon, the curiosity about his offer outweighed any lingering apprehension. I returned his smile, genuinely happy to see him. As he made his way toward me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that had led me here. Whatever lay ahead, I was determined not to miss out on the opportunity that lay before me, embracing the luxury and possibility that surrounded me in John's penthouse. Marge emerged from the kitchen just as John grabbed the TV remote and switched off the TV. "Did she behave?" he asked, his gaze directed at Marge. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as he spoke over my head about me. "Yes, Sir, Miss Feli behaved like an angel," Marge replied with a warm smile, her eyes flickering between John and me. We both chuckled at her formal address using my nickname, but I couldn't help but feel puzzled by their conversation. Why were they discussing my behavior as if I weren't in the room? And why did Marge feel the need to comment on it when we had barely interacted since she arrived? "Good to hear," John replied, grinning down at me with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes that I had come to detest. "Dinner is served, Sir," Marge announced politely, breaking the momentary silence. "Thank you, Marge. You're excused," John replied, and Marge quickly gathered her things and left the penthouse. As John and I made our way toward the dining table, I couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had settled over me, a feeling that this dinner would bring with it more than just good food and polite conversation. We ate in silence for a while, savoring the delicious meal that Marge had prepared for us. The flavors danced on my tongue, and for a moment, I allowed myself to forget about the weight of the impending conversation. John broke the silence as he took a sip from his glass of wine, his expression warm and genuine. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he said, his smile reaching his eyes. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "Well, the least I could do is hear you out after you've been so nice to me," I mumbled back, my voice barely above a whisper. I took another forkful of the heavenly food, grateful for the distraction it provided from the nervous tension that lingered between us. As John returned with two sets of papers and a pen, my heart skipped a beat at the sight. The weight of the moment hit me like a ton of bricks, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Just moments ago, it had all felt like a dream, but now, faced with the official-looking documents in front of me, it was undeniably real. He sat down opposite me, presenting one set of papers while holding onto the other. I could feel the tension in the air as he explained, "This is an NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement you need to sign. Once you've signed this, I can sue you if you tell anyone about what you're going to hear today. Marge also had to sign one before working for me." My throat went dry as I glanced over the paper, knowing full well the gravity of what I was about to agree to. I knew I needed to read it thoroughly before putting pen to paper. Skimming through the document, I confirmed that it was indeed just an NDA, outlining the terms of confidentiality regarding the information I was about to receive. Satisfied that I understood its contents, I took a deep breath and put my signature at the bottom of the page. Looking up at John expectantly, I braced myself for whatever revelation awaited me. As John placed the other set of papers in front of me, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me. But before I could even glance at the documents, he kept his hand on them and locked eyes with me, his gaze warm and sincere. "Now that you've signed the NDA, I can tell you about the offer," he began, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the nervous energy building inside me as I awaited his next words. "Long story short: I want you to become my baby for a month," he stated, the words hanging in the air between us like an electric charge. My mind reeled at the unexpectedness of his proposition, and I struggled to comprehend the full implications of what he was suggesting.
  15. Let me preface this topic by saying I am not a writer, but I've read quite a lot of stories on here as well as pretty much every other website that provides ABDL or similarly themed stories, in German as well as English. Thus there may be themes and plotlines in this work that are inspired by other works out there, as that is pretty much unavoidable. However I will try my best to ultimately still keep this story original in the end. Since I have pretty much zero experience in actually writing stories, but am quite versed in prompt engineering AIs, I decided to try out how far I can get to writing an actually enjoyable and consistent novel by relying heavily on AI assistance. I checked the pinned posts in this forum and did not find any rules regarding AI assisted/generated stories, so I hope I'm not breaking any rules. If I do, my apologies. Of ourse I'm heavily aware of the limitations of current, publicy available language models and for the sake of transparency I'm going to briefly explain my approach here. I use two instances of the free version of ChatGPT running on GPT-3.5. The first one I feed with precise outlines of what I want to happen and it responds with a handful of paragraphs at a time. Due to limitations in the conext size and the size of the responses it can't generate full chapters at once, even though those would be more consistent on their own., however with my approach of feeding it prompts bit by bit I have more control about the content. I still need to go through each paragraph however, rearrange them sometimes and fix minor consistency issues. Every now and then there will also be sentences and the odd paragraph in there that I had to fully write on my own, as ChatGPT was not cooperating to produce what I wanted. I really hope those do not stand out however and there is no discernible difference in quality of writing. After I finish a chapter I then feed it into a second instance of ChatGPT, which sole purpose is to extract knowledge and data points from the chapter and outline it once again, which I then feed back into the first AI to increase cohesion and consistency. I've created 5 chapters so far and in my opinion they read really well and are fairly cohesive. I have a general idea for where the story will go but I'm still uncertain of where it will end up. I like to surprise myself a bit as I progress this story and dive deeper into the mind of the protagonist. I aalso have no idea how long this approach will hold up and when the consistency breaks down completely. I welcome any kind of criticism regarding the quality of this story, especially in regards to consistency, as quality AI assisted writing is still fairly novel and I'm very curious to hear what you guys have to say about this approach aand the result. Without further ado, here are the first 5 chapters: ----------------- Chapter 1 (Thursday, Day 1) Sitting at my desk, the hard wooden surface pressing against my thighs, I let out a weary sigh. Mr. Henderson's droning voice filled the classroom, the words blending together into a meaningless stream. History had never been my favorite subject, but today it felt particularly unbearable. I was a sophomore in high school, barely fifteen, with chestnut hair that fell in unruly waves around my shoulders and eyes the color of storm clouds. Despite my petite frame, I carried myself with a quiet confidence, a facade that masked the shame that gnawed at my insides. School had only started three days ago, after a long summer break filled with lazy days and carefree afternoons. But now, with the weight of my secret bearing down on me, those carefree days felt like a distant memory. My mind drifted back to that first accident a few weeks ago, the one that had started this whole downward spiral. I had been home alone, lost in the blissful solitude of my own thoughts, when it happened. I was sitting at my desk, engrossed in a book, when the pressure in my bladder had become too much to bear. I had tried to ignore it at first, too focused on the story unfolding before me to pay attention to the warning signs. But as the urgency grew stronger, more insistent, I finally realized what was happening. I jumped up from my desk, my heart pounding in my chest, and raced to the bathroom. But by then, it was too late. I felt the warm trickle of urine running down the fabric of my pants, a humiliating reminder of my body's betrayal. The shame washed over me in waves as I stumbled into the bathroom, tears stinging my eyes. I cleaned myself up as best I could, my hands trembling with embarrassment. And when I finally emerged from the bathroom, my cheeks flushed with shame, I vowed to never let it happen again. But now, as I sat in Mr. Henderson's classroom, the memory of that first accident came rushing back with startling clarity. And as the pressure in my bladder grew stronger, more insistent, I realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that history was about to repeat itself. Bits and pieces of the lesson floated through my mind, ironically drawing parallels to my current situation. Mentions of treaties and alliances felt like reminders of the fragile alliances I had forged with my own body, desperate attempts to maintain control in the face of impending disaster. But as my thoughts started to spiral again, a sudden realization snapped me back to reality. A warm, damp sensation spread across the fabric of my panties, and my heart sank. The shame washed over me in a suffocating wave, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I tried to discreetly wipe away the evidence. And then, just as I was grappling with the humiliation of my predicament, Lily's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. Lily has been my best friend for as long as I can remember and she was sitting next to me in class. "Ellie, are you okay?" she asked, concern etched in her features. I forced a smile, my voice strained as I replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I guess." But even as I spoke the words, I could see the doubt in Lily's eyes. She had noticed something off about me, something I had been desperately trying to conceal. And as she continued to study me with furrowed brows, I knew that my carefully constructed facade was beginning to crumble, exposing the truth I had fought so hard to hide. My heart sank further as I realized there were still ten more minutes left in this class. How was I supposed to deal with my wet secret for that long? And as the pressure in my bladder continued to build, I couldn't shake the feeling of mortification knowing that the short leak wasn't enough to relieve it. I watched the clock closely, patiently waiting to be released from this torture. My thoughts started drifting off again, thinking about how my life was just fine a few weeks ago and how my bladder control got progressively worse in the last two weeks of summer vacation. At first, I didn’t notice. It all began with that one accident, which I quickly dismissed. I rationalized it afterward, attributing it to the copious amounts of water I drank that day to combat the summer heat. Given my tendency to lose myself in thought and tune out the world around me, it seemed plausible. In the following weeks, I continued to use the same excuse to justify my increasingly frequent trips to the bathroom. I didn’t think much of it. "It's just because I've been drinking so much to stay hydrated in the summer," I reassured myself. Although that carefree confidence started to crumble more and more with each trip to the bathroom and close call. Afterall here I was, sitting in class with damp panties. The shrill ring of the bell echoed through the classroom, pulling me once again from my thoughts, signaling the end of yet another torturous history lesson. Without a second thought, I bolted out of my seat, my heart racing as I made a beeline for the exit. I could feel the pressure in my bladder reaching a critical point, threatening to unleash an even worse accident if I didn't act fast. With each hurried step, I prayed that I would make it to the restrooms in time. The hallway stretched on endlessly before me, the minutes ticking by agonizingly slow. But finally, mercifully, I reached the door to the restroom and pushed it open with trembling hands. I dashed inside and made a beeline for the nearest stall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Just barely, I managed to yank down my pants and lower myself onto the toilet before it was too late. I closed my eyes, relief flooding through me as I felt the warm rush of urine escaping my body. Once the immediate crisis had passed, I dared to open my eyes and glance down at my wet panties. The shame washed over me anew as I realized the extent of the damage. There was no hiding it now – the evidence of my secret was plain for all to see. I contemplated my situation, trying to come up with a plan to discreetly deal with my wet underwear. But as I sat there, lost in thought, a knock on the stall door shattered the silence. "Ellie? Are you in there?" Lily's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, concern evident in her tone. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. How had she found me here? And more importantly, how was I supposed to explain the mess I had gotten myself into? With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realized that I was about to be confronted with a reality I had been desperately trying to avoid. "I-I'm fine, Lily," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just... needed a moment alone, you know?" But even as the words tumbled out of my mouth, I knew they sounded unconvincing. How could I possibly explain the mess I had made of things without revealing my deepest, most humiliating secret? There was a brief pause, and then Lily spoke again, her voice soft but insistent. "Ellie, I'm your best friend. You can talk to me about anything. Please, just let me in." I hesitated, torn between the instinct to keep my secret buried deep inside and the desperate need for someone to confide in. Finally, with a heavy heart, I unlocked the stall door and watched as Lily stepped inside. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the scene before her – me, sitting on the toilet with tears streaming down my cheeks, my wet panties discarded on the floor beside me. "Oh, Ellie," Lily whispered, her voice filled with sympathy. "What's going on? Why are you so upset?" I took a deep breath, steeling myself to reveal the truth I had fought so hard to hide. "Lily, I... I've been having accidents," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been happening for weeks now, and I don't know what to do." Tears welled up in my eyes as I recounted the humiliating ordeal I had been going through, the shame and fear that had consumed me with each passing day. But to my surprise, instead of recoiling in disgust or disbelief, Lily reached out and enveloped me in a warm hug. "Ellie, I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea you were going through this. But you don't have to face it alone. We'll figure this out together, okay?" And in that moment, as I clung to my best friend for dear life, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life inside me. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to face this nightmare alone after all. Chapter 2 (Thursday, Day 1) Lily and I huddled together in the restroom stall, our voices hushed as we deliberated our options. "Okay, so we have two choices," Lily began, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Option one: we dry off your panties as best as we can and you put them back on. Hopefully, the wetness won't show through your pants." I bit my lip, considering her suggestion. "But what if they do show through?" I whispered anxiously. "I can't bear the thought of everyone seeing..." Lily nodded understandingly before presenting the second option. "Option two: we seek out help from the school staff. They might have spare clothing or be able to assist us in some way." I hesitated, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, the idea of confiding in someone else filled me with dread. I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else knowing about my humiliating secret. But on the other hand, the risk of being caught with wet panties was equally terrifying. "I... I think we should go with option one," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't... I can't bring myself to tell anyone else about this." Lily nodded in agreement, though I could see the concern in her eyes. "Okay, we'll go with option one," she said gently. "But if it doesn't work out, we'll figure something else out, okay? You're not alone in this, Ellie. I'm here for you." Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I nodded, overwhelmed by Lily's unwavering support. Together, we set to work drying off my panties as best as we could, hoping against hope that our chosen option would be enough to get us through the rest of the day. As we worked quickly to dry off my panties, the restroom door creaked open, and the voices of a bunch of gossiping girls drifted in. My heart sank as I listened to their chatter, their words slicing through the air like knives. "...and did you hear about Sarah? I heard she got dumped by her boyfriend in front of the whole school! Can you imagine how humiliating that must've been?" The cruel laughter that followed sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt Lily tense beside me. We pressed ourselves against the walls of the stall, hardly daring to breathe as we waited for the girls to leave. My mind raced with fear and anxiety, the sound of their laughter ringing in my ears like a taunt. I couldn't help but wonder what they would say if they knew about my own humiliating secret, about the struggles I was facing right now. But as the seconds ticked by agonizingly slow, the girls' voices gradually faded away, leaving behind an eerie silence. Lily and I breathed a sigh of relief, our bodies still trembling with tension. Once the coast was clear and my panties as dry as we could get them, we emerged from the stall, our faces pale with fear and exhaustion. Lily squeezed my hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with sympathy. "We'll get through this, Ellie," she whispered, her voice filled with determination. "Together." With Lily's support, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them head-on. And as we left the restroom, ready to tackle whatever came our way, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life inside me. We made it back to our last class of the day without anyone noticing the turmoil that had unfolded in the restroom. With each step, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the weight of my secret, but also still reminded of the dampness inside my pants. As we settled into our seats, the familiar routine of the classroom provided a welcome distraction from the events of the day. And though the memory of the gossiping girls lingered in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Lily's unwavering support. Despite the close call, I had managed to navigate through the day without my secret being exposed to the entire school. It was still a close call, but in that moment, it felt like a small victory. Despite the earlier challenges, the remainder of the class passed without incident. But as the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, my relief was short-lived. As I gathered my belongings and prepared to leave, Lily caught up to me, a concerned expression etched on her face. "Ellie, wait," she said softly, motioning for me to step aside. Confusion knitted my brows as I followed Lily to a secluded corner of the hallway. It was then that her gaze flickered down to my pants, and her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, Ellie," Lily murmured, sympathy lacing her voice as she gestured to the damp stain that had seeped through. "We need to figure out a way to conceal this before you leave school. We can't let anyone see." Panic surged through me as I realized the gravity of the situation. I couldn't bear the thought of facing the humiliation of being seen with stained pants, especially not in front of my classmates. But with Lily by my side, I knew we would find a way to handle it together. Taking a deep breath, Lily and I set to work, brainstorming ideas to conceal the stain and get me home safely. We quickly decided that Lily would lend me her jacket to tie around my waist, providing cover as we made our way through the crowded halls. Nervously, Lily and I made our way through the hallways towards the exit, keeping a vigilant eye out for any signs of suspicion. To our relief, we seemed to go unnoticed, but the tension still lingered in the air, palpable and suffocating. As we approached the bus stop, the familiar sound of giggling reached our ears, and my heart sank as I spotted the gossiping group of girls already waiting there. Among them stood the tallest one, towering at 5 foot 10 over my petite 5 foot 0 frame. She shot a glance towards the jacket around my waist, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, but quickly became engrossed in conversation with her friends once again. My pulse raced with anxiety, but to my immense relief, the girl didn't seem to suspect anything amiss. She made no comment about the jacket or the stain it concealed, and soon, the bus arrived, whisking us away from the prying eyes of the gossiping girls. As we settled into our seats on the bus, I let out a shaky breath, grateful for the narrow escape. Despite the close call, we had managed to make it through the day without my secret being exposed to the entire school. It was a small victory, but in that moment, it felt like a monumental achievement. After what felt like an eternity, though it was only about 15 minutes, Lily and I finally reached our stop. Lost in my thoughts, I reflected on the rollercoaster of a school day we had just endured. As we stepped off the bus and onto the familiar sidewalk, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach at the thought of facing my mom when I got home. We walked together in silence until we reached the front of my house. With a heavy heart, I turned to Lily, knowing our time together was coming to an end for the day. "Thanks, Lily," I said softly, my voice tinged with gratitude. "For everything." Lily smiled warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course, Ellie," she replied. "Anytime. And don't worry, you can keep the jacket for today. You can give it back to me tomorrow before school." Relief washed over me as I pulled the jacket tighter around my waist, hoping it would conceal the stain, not realizing however that stain had almost fully dried and was barely visible by now. With a final hug, we said our goodbyes, and I watched as Lily walked away, disappearing down the street. Alone now, I stood in front of my front door, the weight of the day's events heavy on my shoulders. Dread gnawed at me as I contemplated the inevitable encounter with my mom. Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and reached for the doorknob, steeling myself for what lay ahead. Chapter 3 (Thursday, Day 1) I stepped through the front door, the weight of the day's events heavy on my shoulders. My mom greeted me with her usual upbeat demeanor, her smile brightening as she asked about my day. "Hi, Mom," I managed to stammer out, my voice barely above a whisper. I forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil raging inside me, and quickly set my bag down by the door. As my mom chattered on about her day, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me, I followed her to the kitchen, my mind swirling with worrisome thoughts. I mechanically poured myself a glass of water, the cool liquid doing little to calm the nerves that threatened to consume me. I forced myself to focus on my mom's words, nodding along absentmindedly as she recounted the events of her day. But beneath the surface, a sense of dread gnawed at me, the weight of my secret pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I struggled to keep up the facade of normalcy, my mind racing with unanswered questions. How could I face my mom when she inevitably found out about my struggles? Would she be disappointed in me, or worse, ashamed? As I sipped my water, I resolved to keep my secret buried deep inside, at least for now. I couldn't bear the thought of burdening my mom with my troubles, not when she had her own worries to contend with. But even as I tried to push aside my fears, a sense of unease lingered in the air, casting a shadow over what should have been a peaceful afternoon at home. And as I glanced up at my mom, her smile faltering for just a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that our idyllic facade was beginning to crack. As I helped my mom make dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables providing a comforting distraction, I began to feel a sense of calm wash over me. Maybe, just maybe, my mom hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary after all. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the pressure building in my bladder until it became almost unbearable. With a small gasp, I excused myself from the kitchen, intending to make a quick trip to the bathroom. But before I could take a single step, my mom's voice cut through the air, startling me out of my reverie. "Ellie, wait," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "Can I ask you something?" I turned to face her, my mind still foggy from my internal turmoil. "Sure, Mom," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising tide of anxiety. She hesitated for a moment, her expression unreadable, before finally speaking. "What's with the jacket, sweetheart?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "It's still pretty warm out for you to be wearing it." My heart skipped a beat as I realized there was no way to avoid the question. With a shaky breath, I forced myself to reply, praying that my mom wouldn't push for more details. "Oh, uh, it's just... I found it in my closet and thought it looked nice," I said, my voice trembling slightly. To my surprise, my mom's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the jacket. "That's odd," she mused, her tone thoughtful. "I don't remember you ever owning a jacket like that. Did you borrow it from a friend?" Panic surged through me as I struggled to come up with a plausible explanation. "Um, yeah, something like that," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "A friend lent it to me for the day." My mom nodded slowly, though a hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Alright, honey," she said, her tone gentle. "Just be careful, okay? And make sure to return it to your friend when you're done with it." With a nod, I forced a smile and hurried off to the bathroom, my heart still pounding with adrenaline. As I closed the door behind me, I let out a shaky breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. But even as I relieved myself, the weight of my secret hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over what should have been a simple family dinner. Sitting on the toilet, I couldn't help but glance down at the white, slightly childish-looking panties I wore. My heart sank as I noticed the faint yellow stain, now fully dry, marring the fabric. With a pang of embarrassment, I realized I should probably change out of them. Once I finished in the bathroom, I made a quick detour to my bedroom upstairs. Hastily, I switched out of my jeans and stained panties, exchanging them for a fresh pair and a comfortable pair of sweatpants. I left the borrowed jacket on my bed and hurried back downstairs to the kitchen. As I reentered the room, the aroma of dinner filled the air, momentarily distracting me from my worries. My mom glanced up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. I forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering sense of unease. "Yeah, much better," I replied, my voice sounding more confident than I felt. "Sorry about that, Mom." She waved off my apology with a smile, turning back to tend to the food. But even as I joined her in the kitchen, the memory of the stained panties lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the secret I was desperate to keep hidden. As I finished setting the table, the sound of the front door opening caught my attention. Moments later, my dad entered the kitchen, his tired smile lighting up his face as he greeted me. "Hey there, kiddo," he said, ruffling my hair affectionately. With a smile, I returned his greeting, grateful for the familiar routine of our family dinners. As we all sat down at the table, the warm glow of the kitchen bathed us in a sense of comfort and familiarity. Throughout dinner, I couldn't help but notice how upbeat both of my parents seemed, their laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories from their day. They played the part of the happy little family perfectly, oblivious to the worries that ate away at their daughter from the inside. I tried my best to join in the conversation, forcing a smile and nodding along with their stories. But beneath the facade of normalcy, a sense of isolation gnawed at me, reminding me of the burden I carried alone. As the evening wore on and dinner came to an end, I excused myself from the table, claiming exhaustion from the long day at school. But even as I retreated to my room, the weight of my secret hung heavy on my shoulders, casting a shadow over what should have been a simple family meal. As I sat down to tackle my homework, my mind couldn't help but drift back to the events of the day. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for Lily and all she had done to support me. Without her, I don't know how I would have made it through the day. With a sudden burst of determination, I decided to call Lily, hoping to do our homework together. Somehow, suffering through the boring math equations seemed more bearable with her by my side. "Hey, Lily!" I greeted her as she picked up the phone. "Hey, Ellie! What's up?" Lily replied cheerfully. "I was wondering if you wanted to do our math homework together? It's kind of boring on my own," I suggested. "Sure thing! I’ve finished mine already, but I don’t mind keeping you company," Lily agreed with a laugh. I quickly got to work, Lily helping me through the first problem. But it wasn't long before our conversation veered off course, leading us down a rabbit hole of jokes and stories. "Remember that time in sixth grade when Mr. Thompson caught us passing notes in class?" Lily reminisced, causing us both to burst into laughter. "Oh, how could I forget?" I replied between giggles. "That was definitely one of our finer moments." As we continued to work through the homework, I couldn't help but marvel at Lily's patience and willingness to help, despite having already completed her own assignments. It was moments like these that reminded me just how lucky I was to have her as a friend. In the midst of our conversation my focus shifted further and further away from the assignment I was doing. By the time we were completely off topic I barely managed to finish half of the assignment and had already completely forgotten about them. I even completely forgot about the stained panties still lying on my bedroom floor, which I had originally planned to deal with after homework. For the first time since I had arrived home, I felt a sense of lightness wash over me, grateful for the simple joy of friendship in the midst of chaos. Chapter 4 (Thursday, Day 1) Hours slipped by as Lily and I talked, laughter punctuating our conversation as we reminisced about old memories and shared new ones. But as the evening progressed, I realized with a sinking feeling that I still hadn't finished my homework. Time had slipped away unnoticed, and now I found myself scrambling to catch up. A sudden knock at the door shattered the tranquility of the moment, causing me to jump in my seat. With a quick apology to Lily, I excused myself from our phone conversation and hung up, my heart pounding with apprehension. "Come in," I called out automatically, my mind still reeling from the unexpected interruption. The door creaked open slowly, revealing my mom standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Hey, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice gentle. "Is everything okay?" I forced a smile, trying to hide the panic that threatened to consume me. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine," I replied, though my voice sounded strained even to my own ears. But my mom wasn't convinced. I could see it in the way she studied me, her eyes searching mine for any sign of distress. "Are you sure?" she asked, her tone gentle but probing. "You seemed a bit... off earlier. Is something on your mind?" I felt a surge of nervousness grip me as I realized that my mom wasn't as oblivious as I had thought. She had sensed something was wrong, and now I found myself at a loss for words. "I, uh, just got caught up in a conversation with Lily," I stammered, my voice faltering. "That's all." My mom's expression softened with understanding, though a hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Alright, sweetheart," she said softly. "Just remember, I'm here if you ever need to talk. I love you." As I sat there, trying to compose myself, realizing my Mom was only concerned and meant well, I noticed her gaze flicker towards the floor where my discarded clothes lay. My heart skipped a beat, fearing she might notice the stained panties, but to my relief, her attention seemed to pass over them without recognition. "Sweetheart, don't forget to clean up your clothes before bedtime," my mom said, her voice gentle but firm as she turned back to face me. I nodded quickly, my mind racing with a mixture of anxiety and relief. "Okay, Mom," I replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside me. With a final nod, my mom left the room, closing the door softly behind her. As I sank back into my chair, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease lingering in the air. My mom's concern was touching, but it also served as a stark reminder that I couldn't keep my struggles hidden forever. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. But even as I gathered up my clothes and prepared to clean up, the memory of my mom's probing gaze lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder that some secrets were harder to keep than others. As I placed my clothes in the hamper, a sense of exhaustion washed over me, weighing down my limbs as if each step was a struggle. I made my way to the kitchen, the cool tile floor soothing beneath my feet as I poured myself a glass of water, the gentle sound of it filling the silence of the empty house. With a heavy sigh, I trudged into the living room where my parents sat, their voices low as they chatted quietly. I mustered a weak smile as I bid them goodnight, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. Turning away, I made my way to the bathroom, the familiar routine of brushing my teeth offering a brief respite from the chaos of my thoughts. But even as I rinsed and spat, the worries of the day lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of all that I had left unfinished. As I climbed into bed, the events of the day replayed in my mind like a broken record, each moment filled with anxiety and uncertainty. I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at me, the struggles of the day casting a shadow over the days to come. With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes, the weight of my worries threatening to pull me under. But even as sleep beckoned, I couldn't escape the nagging sense of unease that clung to me like a stubborn shadow, a constant reminder of the struggles that lay ahead. And so, with a weary sigh, I surrendered to the embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring some respite from the chaos of today. I drifted off into a restless slumber, completely oblivious to the fact that I had never even finished my homework that day. Chapter 5 (Friday, Day 2) I sat in math class, my eyes fixed on the clock at the front of the room. Its hands seemed frozen in time, mocking me as I waited for the minutes to tick by. My bladder ached, a constant reminder of the discomfort I had been trying to ignore all morning. As the teacher droned on about equations and variables, I tried to focus on the lesson, but my mind kept wandering back to the relentless ticking of the clock. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching on and on as if time itself had come to a standstill. I glanced down at the worksheet in front of me, my stomach twisting into knots as I realized I hadn't finished the homework assignment. Panic bubbled up inside me, threatening to overwhelm my already frayed nerves. Summoning all my willpower, I tried to push aside my worries and concentrate on the task at hand. But as the minutes dragged on, my anxiety only grew, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest with each passing second. Just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, the teacher's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, calling my name. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what was happening. "Ellie, would you mind coming up to the front to present your solution for problem number three?" the teacher asked, her voice breaking through the fog of my panic. I felt a surge of dread wash over me as all eyes turned to me expectantly. With trembling hands, I gathered my things and made my way to the front of the room, my heart pounding in my chest. As I stood in front of the class, the weight of their gaze bearing down on me, I struggled to find my voice. My mind raced, searching desperately for the solution I knew was buried somewhere in the depths of my memory. But as the seconds ticked by, I realized with a sinking feeling that I had nothing. My mind was blank, my thoughts consumed by the overwhelming pressure of the moment. With a shaky breath, I mumbled something incomprehensible, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a jumbled mess. The teacher frowned, her disappointment palpable as she urged me to try again. But it was no use. The words refused to come, trapped in the tangled web of my anxiety. And as I stood there, frozen in place, I couldn't help but feel the crushing weight of failure bearing down on me, a heavy burden that seemed impossible to bear. Suddenly, a wave of relief washed over me, but it wasn't because I had miraculously found the answer to the math problem. Instead, it was a strange warmth spreading through my lower body, a sensation that left me bewildered and confused. Slowly, almost hesitantly, I glanced down, fully expecting to see a puddle forming at my feet. But to my shock and confusion, my pants remained dry, and instead, there was a strange bulge forming between my legs. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what was happening. I felt a surge of panic rising within me, my mind racing to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before me. I looked up, my eyes wide with fear, only to find all eyes in the classroom fixed on me. I could feel the heat of their stares burning into my skin, their whispers filling the air like a deafening roar. And then, amidst the chaos, I heard it: a faint, familiar giggle echoing from the back of the room. My blood ran cold as I recognized the sound, a chilling reminder of the humiliation that awaited me. Frozen in place, I struggled to make sense of it all. How had this happened? Why was I wearing a diaper? And who could have done this to me? But as I searched the faces of my classmates for answers, all I found was confusion and disbelief mirrored back at me. And in that moment, I realized that I was alone, trapped in a nightmare of my own making with no way out. As I jolted awake, confusion momentarily clouded my thoughts. It took a moment for me to realize that it was just a dream, but as the fog of sleep lifted, a wave of worry washed over me. My heart raced as I remembered the vivid details of the dream – the warmth spreading through my lower body, the sensation of wearing a diaper, the humiliating laughter echoing in the background. With trembling hands, I reached under the sheets, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched for any sign of wetness. Relief flooded through me as my fingers met dry fabric, but it was short-lived. In the next instant, a sharp pain sliced through my bladder, a stark reminder of the reality of my situation. Panic surged within me as I realized that I only had seconds to spare before disaster struck. Frantically, I threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, my mind racing as I raced to the bathroom, every step sending a jolt of agony through my body. With trembling hands, I fumbled with the doorknob, my heart pounding in my chest as I pushed open the door and stumbled inside. And then, finally, blessed relief washed over me as I collapsed onto the toilet, the pressure in my bladder finally easing as I let out a long, shuddering sigh. As I sat there in the dim light of the bathroom, the events of the dream still fresh in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder what it all meant. Was it just a nightmare, or was it a sign of something more? And as I sat there, lost in my thoughts, I couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come. As I returned to my bedroom, the dim light filtering in through the curtains cast long shadows across the room. Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was barely 3 am. Exhaustion washed over me, the events of the night leaving me drained both physically and emotionally. Crawling back into bed, I pulled the covers up to my chin, hoping to find solace in the darkness of sleep. But as I lay there, my mind buzzing with a thousand thoughts and worries, I found myself unable to relax. Minutes turned into hours as I tossed and turned, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind. But despite my best efforts, sleep remained elusive, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. And then, just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, exhaustion finally claimed me, pulling me down into the depths of dreamless sleep. As I drifted off into unconsciousness, a sense of peace washed over me, if only for a fleeting moment, as I surrendered to the embrace of slumber once more.
  16. Prologue: The silence in the dim lit hospital room was only disturbed by the noise of the breathing machine. The single bed was occupied by an older female patient. Her name was Sally and she was about to lose her fight against the serious disease. Sally was a successful scientist and her work got famous; she focused on cancer research. By the irony of fate, her own research subject caught her up. At a regular check the gynecologist revealed a small lump on her breast. According to the biopsy it was a carcinoma. At first Sally was shocked but after a surgery everything seemed alright. Two years later Sally was plagued by headaches and the MRI revealed several metastases in her brain and bones. Unfortunately, it was too late for any surgery and Sally’s condition worsened rapidly. The tumors interrupted all connections between her brain and rest of her body. Now she was paralyzed, and the breathing machine and numerous tubes were the only way to keep her alive. Despite her serious condition her mind still was clear, but she felt like she was dreaming and disconnected from the real world. She knew she would die soon, and the dreams will be over. That thought made her worried. She desperately wanted to continue her work. All of sudden she heard a voice in her mind: “Sally, I know about your worries. Would you like to get a second chance?” “Who are you?” “It doesn’t matter. People have been giving me different names for ages but I’m able to help you if you really want to.” “Are you … God? Sorry but I’m a scientist and I don’t believe in God.” “It doesn’t matter if you believe or not. I ask you again; would you like to get the second chance?” “How do I get the second chance?” “Your mind will be exchanged against somebody else’s one.” “No, that’s unacceptable. A family loses their beloved one and I’ll become a surrogate.” “What if you helped the family in that way?” “Sorry, I don’t understand you.” “I know that’s an experiment even for me. You don’t have anything to lose and neither has the family you are worried about.” Sally was confused. She was taken aback by the mysterious entity. She definitely didn’t believe in God, but she didn’t have any explanation for the voice. However, the offer was quite attractive even if she didn’t understand how she could help. “Well, I accept your offer whoever you are. What would happen?” “I know a family you could help, and your mind would be exchanged against a family member. Do you take the risk?” “I don’t have anything to lose; that’s still better than death.” “Well, Sally. Maybe you reconsider your worldview. Get prepared for your second life.” “Thanks …” There was no reply anymore. Sally was thrilled about the upcoming events. Part 1: Sally opened her eyes; it was a big surprise after being isolated in her dreams only. Anyway that wasn’t the last or the biggest surprise. She felt her body even if she realized something was wrong. The body was much smaller than an adult; she could guess she was a child about 3 or 4 years old. Her clothing matched her size and age; she was wearing a beautiful pajama, but she felt a thick package between her legs. The diaper wasn’t that surprising; many children needed diapers at nighttime. She lifted her head and looked around the room. To her surprise she hardly was able to keep her head up. The next attempt revealed even more of her weak muscles. She could move her limbs, but she didn’t have any strength. The room was nice, but its equipment didn’t match her age; there was a changing table on the opposite side and a stroller next to her bed. She also couldn’t see any toys for a girl her age. Instead, there were plushies all around. Two plushies were sitting on the bed. Sally’s mind was working quickly; she put two and two together. The room apparently belonged to a disabled child. The little girl wasn’t able to use her limbs. Sally relaxed and waited but she did another attempt. What about her vocal cords? She almost tried to speak when she noticed the baby monitor. Speaking wouldn’t be a good idea. She turned her head away and tried to whisper. As expected, the vocal cords were functional. At that moment Sally realized what the mysterious entity did and why. The mind of the poor toddler moved into her wrecked body. Her mind was quite able to revive her limp body and enable her to become a healthy girl later. However, Sally had to face several problems. The first one was her new identity. The mysterious entity didn’t tell her anything about her name and family. She also didn’t have any idea of her supposed condition. A disabled child probably wasn’t able to speak. Meanwhile Sally felt the pressure in her bladder. She tried to clench the muscles, but her effort was vain; the bladder muscles were as weak as all other ones, and she peed in the diaper. The package between her legs got heavy and soaked. Sally sighed only and tried to think of her options. She had to find a way to recover from her condition without shocking her family. It really was a difficult task. However, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A middle-aged woman entered the room and she had to be Sally’s mother … oops, not Sally’s. First of all, Sally had to find out her new name. “Good morning, sweetheart,” the woman smiled at her child. To Sally’s disappointment she didn’t call her by name. Sally didn’t know how to react. What would a disabled child do? She couldn’t speak and the only appropriate response was a wide smile at the woman. Nevertheless, this reaction also was surprising: “Did you smile? Your mom is very happy. This is your first smile.” the woman leaned down and kissed Sally’s forehead. “Let’s get out of the nasty wet diapee,” she reached between Sally’s legs and lifted the small girl on her arms then. Sally instinctively put her tiny arms around the neck of her new mother and noticed an amazement in her eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s going on with you? Is it a miracle?” Sally was taken aback. The poor girl probably was more disabled than she was able to imagine. Even the slightest responses were a total surprise for her mother. She wasn’t able to guess how to react. As she was put onto the changing table, she relaxed and let her new mother change the soaked diaper and put the day clothes on her. However, it also was slightly unexpected: “I’m surprised by you sweetheart even if you probably don’t understand me. Thank God you are getting better. Your mom is thankful for every smile, and she would pray for you every day. Let’s go to breakfast now.” The new mom put Sally into the stroller and wheeled her out of the room and to the kitchen. A man, a girl about 10 and a small boy about 5 were sitting at the table already. “Tell good morning to our little Susy. She was in a very good mood today and she even smiled at me.” Well, the first goal has been reached. Her name was Susy. Now she needed the names of her new siblings and hoped she’d learn them soon. Susy instinctively smiled and almost opened her mouth to say good morning. The small boy jumped off his chair and ran over to the stroller. He hugged Susy and kissed her forehead. However, he stopped and stared at her. Susy also looked at him. Their eyes met and the boy felt something was wrong. Sally was able to pretend the disabled condition and avoid speaking but she wasn’t able to pretend the void look. “Hey, Charlie, sit down and eat now. You can be with Susie later,” the mother called him back and wheeled Susy to the table next to her older sister. “Annie, would you feed Susy?” “Of course, mom,” Ann turned to Susy and tied a bib around her neck. Susy let her do it without any fuss and waited patiently until Ann fed her. Ann also wondered a bit about Susy’s behavior, but she shrugged only and fed her sister. After breakfast dad took Ann to school and Charlie to the kindergarten. Susy was alone with her new mother. She got curious about the schedule; the upcoming day probably was quite boring. They stayed in the kitchen and mommy did the dishes She kept talking to Susy: “Sweetheart, you surprised me this morning. I don’t know what happened but hopefully you get better, a bit at least. I’ll pray for you and our Lord will help us. Your smile has to be a miracle. I don’t remember any single smile since you were born. Many times, I prayed for a glimmer of emotion and today you showed me it. I don’t know what happened and I’ll ask our Lord on Sunday. Hopefully he shows me his endless mercy. I know that you don’t understand any single word but I’m sure you feel my love and the love of the whole family.” Susy kept listening and she desperately wanted to reveal her real condition, but she couldn’t do it; the poor woman wouldn’t be able to understand what happened and her response was unpredictable. However there still was a good chance. If the family was religious, they could accept a miracle, but Susy couldn’t reveal her identity. She could train her muscles and speak but she hardly could reveal her knowledge and education level. It would be unacceptable even for a miracle. A tear appeared in Susy’s eye, but she had to wink and hide it quickly. The tear would reveal that she understood her mommy. Fortunately, mommy didn’t notice the tear and didn’t notice the non-void look; she apparently didn’t expect it. Susy quickly composed herself and started thinking of her plans while watching her new mommy. She hoped to learn even more about her new family.
  17. Hello babies! It's been a long time since I posted updates and it's because I've been working on a new project called "Mia's Stories". I've been working on this game for many months and I hope you really like everything I've done. What is Mia's Stories? Mia's Stories is the last project I'm working on and it's going to consist of several ABDL games in the same launcher. I am currently developing Hypnosis, the first Mia's Stories game. What is Hypnosis about? Hypnosis is about a young woman named Clara who has had urinary incontinence since she was little, however lately she has stopped having accidents at night and is finally going to be able to stop wearing diapers. However, her mother de ella has gotten used to having her little baby de ella pampered by her and she is not going to let her stop wearing diapers, so through different methods her mother de ella will make her wear a diaper again. You can download the demo from Itch.io and if you want the latest version of the game you can download it on Patreon. Of course I will be developing more content for Hypnosis. When I make an update I will publish a changelog in this post, you can also see all the changelogs on patreon for free. --------------------------------------------------- Demo Link (Itch.io): Here Download Link (Patreon): Here --------------------------------------------------- Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ABDLMiah Discord: https://discord.gg/Bn8JKDvCzZ ---------------------------------------------------
  18. Just a short little one-shot I've been working on the last few days. --- Mandy was staying with her college roommate, Amy, and her family during spring break. The dorms had kicked them out for the week and she wasn't able to afford a plane ticket to fly home or a hotel to stay in. Thankfully, the Peterson's had graciously offered to let her stay with them for the week. Things were completely normal her first night there. The second night, however, was when things got weird. At nine o'clock that night, Amy's mother entered the room they were sharing unannounced. She took a seat on Amy's bed and looked at the two girls. Mandy was confused, even more so when she looked over and noticed that Amy was staring at the floor with a red face. "Alright girls, it's Saturday night. Amy, you already know what that means. Mandy, I'm guessing by your confused face that Amy has never told you about Maintenance Night. Amy, explain what Maintenance Night is." Mrs. Peterson ordered her daughter. "Maintenance Night is the night of the week when I get my maintenance spanking. It's where I am disciplined for any bad behavior, so that I can go into the new week with a fresh start." Amy explained, incredibly embarrassed. Mandy was shocked. Her roommate, a full adult in college, got spanked by her mom every week? She wondered if that was why Amy went home every weekend? Mandy enjoyed the alone time it gave her, but knowing this it now made her feel guilty. "That's right. Come on Amy, let's get started." Mrs. Peterson said. Mandy watched in awe as her roommate grabbed a hairbrush off of her dresser, handed it to her mom, and then started undressing. Not just to her underwear either, Amy kept undressing until she was completely naked. After discarding her last article of clothing, she bent over her mother's lap and raised her butt in the air. Mrs. Peterson quickly raised the hairbrush and smacked it down on her daughter's bottom. Mandy stared in a shocked stupor as she watched her adult roommate receive a spanking. Amy's bottom quickly began taking on a red hue that deepened in color as the spanking progressed. Before long, tears began flowing down Amy's face and she was bawling. She was repeatedly apologizing and telling her mom that she was going to 'be a good girl'. Her mom continued spanking for a little bit afterwards before finally stopping. When the spanking was over, Amy stood up on her feet and embraced her mom in a hug. The hug lasted for about half a minute before Amy was ordered to get dressed and go to the corner. Mandy stared at Amy's glowing red bottom while she walked to the dresser. She was pulled out of her stupor by Mrs. Peterson addressing her. "Come on Mandy, your turn." Mrs. Peterson said, patting her lap. "W-what?" Mandy responded, confused. "It your turn for a maintenance spanking. Undress and lay down on my lap so that we can get started." Mandy's first instinct was to outright refuse. The Peterson's were letting her stay with them for free for over a week though. She didn't want to be rude and insult their traditions, even if they were weird as hell. There was a part of her that curious about it too. Amy was a straight A student who always finished her homework early. Could this be what made her like that? Hesitantly, Mandy approached Mrs. Peterson and began stripping. While doing so, she glanced over to Amy, who was in the middle of working a pull-up diaper up her legs. "Amy has trouble holding her bladder after a spanking. To prevent any accidents, she wears a Goodnite until morning. Now come on, finish undressing." Mrs. Peterson told Mandy. Mandy continued stripping until she was completely naked. While undressing, she watched Amy finish putting on the diaper and get dressed in a childish set of pajamas. Once finished dressing, Amy walked over to the corner of her bedroom and planted her nose in the corner. "Once your spanking is over, you'll have some corner time to reflect on what you did wrong this week and what you'll do better next week." Mrs. Peterson explained as Mandy finished undressing. Mandy covered her breasts with her arm while she slowly lowered herself down onto Mrs. Peterson's lap. Once in position, Mrs. Peterson rested one arm on the younger girl's back and raised the hairbrush into the the air with the other. With no warning, she brought it down hard and began Mandy's spanking. Mandy yelped as pain rushed through her bottom. She had never received a spanking before, and Mrs. Peterson was not going easy on her. It didn't take long for Mandy to start begging for the spanking to end. She had involuntarily began thrashing around, causing Mrs. Peterson to have to restrain her with her leg and free arm. Not too much longer later and Mandy was bawling worse than Amy had been minutes earlier. Mrs. Peterson kept spanking her for another minute though, until she was certain that Mandy had been thoroughly punished for whatever naughtiness she had committed that week. Mandy was only given a few seconds to compose herself before being guided back onto her feet. She was still crying and trying in vain to rub the pain out of her butt cheeks. "Okay Mandy, go over to Amy's dresser and pick out a Goodnite and pajama set. Both are in the second drawer." Mrs. Peterson instructed. "A G-Goodnite? I don't need that!" Mandy said through tears. Mrs. Peterson, not satisfied with that answer, stood up, pulled Mandy's hand away, and delivered two more spanks onto the poor girl's butt. Mandy cried out and tried to loosen her hand, but couldn't break free of the bigger adult's grip. "Mandy, this is the kind of naughtiness that maintenance spankings are supposed to prevent. Unless you think you need more spankings, I suggest you go grab yourself a Goodnite and pajama set." Mrs. Peterson threatened. Mandy, desperately wanting to avoid further spankings, conceded this battle and walked over to Amy's dresser. Inside the second drawer were several sets of matching, childish print pajama tops and bottoms. Sitting next to them were two stacks of pull-up diapers, exactly like the one Amy had just put on. Mandy groaned internally and grabbed one of them, examining the butterfly prints on it as she did so. She also picked up a white set of pajamas that had a pink trim and strawberry print design, which was the least childish one she could find. "Good girl. Bring them over and I'll help you get changed." Mrs. Peterson instructed Mandy. By this point, Mandy didn't have any fight left in her. The sooner she could get this over with, the better. Here she was, an adult, being spanked and made to pick out a diaper for herself. Anything from here on couldn't be any worse. Mandy brought everything over to Mrs Peterson. The older adult grabbed the Goodnite from the pile and held it out for Mandy to step into. Once she realized what was expected from her, Mandy stepped both legs into the garment and allowed her roommate's mom to pull it up her legs. Mandy, now diapered, was at least thankful that her vagina was no longer exposed. Mrs. Peterson then helped Mandy into the pajama set as well. "Okay Amy, corner time is over. Go finish getting ready for bed while Mandy has her turn. Mandy, go take Amy's place in the corner and reflect on your naughty deeds." Mrs. Peterson ordered. Mandy had forgotten Amy was even there. Still lacking any fight, she silently obeyed her roommate's mom and walk into the corner. She stood there for what felt like an eternity. She wasn't thinking about any 'naughty deeds', but instead how absurd this entire situation was. She was thankful that Amy's mom couldn't tell what she was thinking. That night, Mandy slept on her stomach. The diaper she was wearing was making it hard for her to sleep, despite how exhausted she was. The padding was much thicker than the thin panties that she was used to. She woke up the next morning to Mrs. Peterson entering their shared room and telling them that breakfast is ready. The first thing Mandy noticed was the dull pain in her bottom, the second was the thick, cold padding between her legs. Mandy shot up in surprise at the realization of what she had done. She hadn't wet the bed in over thirteen years! But here she was now, wearing a soaking wet diaper. Mrs. Peterson, likely already knowing what had happened, walked over to Mandy. "Did you have an accident, Mandy?" She asked. "U-umm." Mandy tried to answer, having trouble articulating an appropriate response. "It's okay if you did. I'm sure Amy's Goodnite is soaked too." Mrs. Peterson responded. "Y-yes." Mandy answered, meekly. "Did you leak at all?" The older woman asked. "W-what?" "Did your Goodnite leak?" Mrs. Peterson, not liking Mandy's lack of an answered, bent over and pulled the girl's covers off. She grabbed Mandy under her armpits and hoisted her onto her feet. Mandy, mortified by this, stood in shock and just let it happen. Mrs. Peterson then pulled down her pajama pants and exposed the wet diaper she was wearing. The padding of the diaper had expanded a good amount and was sagging between Mandy's legs. It hadn't leaked, but it couldn't hold much more. "No leaks. Let's go down stairs and eat. You can get changed after breakfast." Mrs. Peterson said, going over to her daughter to finish rousing her. ----- After breakfast, Mandy was able to shower and change back into her normal clothes. The rest of the week progressed as if the events of Saturday night and Sunday morning had never happened. No spankings, no childish pajamas, and no diapers. Not even a mention of any of the three. That was, until Saturday night came around again. Mandy had spent all of Saturday dreading it, hoping that last week had just been a bad dream. It wasn't a dream though. That night, Mrs. Peterson enter the room and gave both girls a hard, hairbrush spanking. Just like last week, she made both change into a Goodnite diaper before dressing them in childish pajamas and sending them to the corner. Also like last week, Mandy woke up the next morning to a still-sore bottom and a wet diaper. That Sunday was the day they were able to go back to their dorm. Mandy couldn't wait, she was ready to get far away from this house and hopefully never come back. As they were loading up the car, Mrs. Peterson stopped them for a chat. "Mandy, it was great having you over this week." She said. "Thank you for letting me stay, your home is lovely." Mandy responded. "I wanted to talk to you about something before you go. I was talking with Amy, and she said that she's noticed you acting different. She believes that you've been kinder and more patient. We both think that the maintenance spankings are really helping you, which is why I want you to come back here with Amy every weekend from now on." Mrs. Peterson said, making it sound more like a command than a request. "O-oh, u-um, I don't know if..." Mandy tried to answer before getting interrupted. "It's settled then. I'll see you and Amy next Saturday." Mrs. Peterson said, enveloping Mandy in a hug. Mandy didn't know what to say. The last thing she wanted was a weekly spanking by her roommates mom. She thought about outright refusing, but she knew that it probably wasn't going to be that simple. She had a suspicion that if she didn't show up with Amy that Mrs. Peterson would come to their dorm to collect her or worse, administer a spanking there. There wasn't really an easy way out. "R-right." Mandy said nervously as she placed her bag in the car. This was going to be a long spring term.
  19. Chapter One: The Drive Dad drove down the highway with meholding my hand between my legs. I had to pee and being stuck in a car definitely didn't help. A sign up ahead said that a rest area was only ten kilometres up ahead and I could certainly hold it. I could ask for my father to stop yet there was somethig else. “Something wrong?" Dad suddenly asked without looking at me. “Weird,” I replied. “ Dam weird you know.” He certainly did know why I felt weird. This was his plan. “I'm wearing an adult nappy,” I groaned. “You better be, Vicky,” Dad replied. “You don't want to be found out as a faker and lose this scholarship.” “Yeah,” I said. “That's the problem; I'm not really incontinent. They are going to find out.” “No, they won't. Just act natural. Show the letter I faked again.” I rubbed the padded material between my legs .“This is certainly not natural," I protested. “Well, get used to wetting yourself often,” he said. “You probably should show up in a really wet nappy. That way you won't look like a faker to the other girls who are used to wetting their nappies.” “Why did I let you talk me into this?” I whined. “You got a scholarship. The bank lost most my money, remember? This is your last chance to go to university,” he answered. I sighed. I don't understand how things got so weird. My father put away enough into my university fund to pay for all years of school. HMRC investigated my father recently and caught him for insider trading and fined him heavily and he eventually used up my university fund to pay for the fine. It was the summer before the start of uni and I had no money. So I search for scholarships. None fit me but after intesive search there was also a scholarship for only urinary incontinent girls who were studying any subject at my chosen university. Unlike the others, it was not listed on the university's website but on a discreet form for disabled students. It was the only scholarship and it was generous. It paid for everything including a monthly allowance. I remember distinctively getting the phone call. “Is Victoria Stevens there?” the woman asked. “Yes, this is she,” I gripped my mobile tightly. “This is Elizabeth Jones from the Urinary Incontinent Girls scholarship programme. You have been chosen.” My mouth was opened in shock. I had though my university dreams were over. “The last girl didn't meet our requirements. She was clearly bluffing her urinary incontinence just to get the scholarship while your doctor's letter appears genuine. I made this scholarship so incontinent girls can have the full university experience, including living in the halls. To do that we want to make sure that we pair you with another girl in the hall that is also incontinent for moral support. You will still have your own room Will this be a problem for you?” “No problem,” I replied, elated. “Good. We are having a summer camp to get to know the other girls. Attendance is mandatory.” I didn't tell the rest of my wider family. Dad thought it was perfect and had been a big help in getting me loads of adult nappies. They do sell nappies in stores like Boots, but the tape-o kind that real incontinent people wear is only found online and he helped me order Tena Slip Maxis online. Back to the present, the road sign indicated we wear near the camp. Dad said an incontinent girl would show up in a very wet nappy. I relaxed in my seat and pretended I was sitting on the toilet. As I started to pee in my nappy, it was so warm as the wetness spread around my crotch and under my bottom. I was shocked at how good it actually felt. Chapter Two: Fitting in with the Group Dad pulled into the lot and right away I spotted the group. After giving me a kiss, I head to group which consisted of five teenaged girls and a young lady stood around the van. “Are you Vicky?” the lady who was clearly Liz Jones, asked me. She wore torn jeans and a T-shirt. There was a bulge around her butt area, most definitely indicated she was wearing a nappy definitely wet. I said yes and opened the back door of my car and got my bags when she stopped me. "May I see your doctor's letter again?" I unzipped one part of my main bag and handed it over. Hoping the forgery work, she quickly smiled and nodded. "Can you remove your skirt? I want to see if you're wearing and adult nappy and have used it." I slowly unclipped my skirt; I tried many jeans but the bulge of the nappy always showed as well as the top. I can't remember how much I peed in the nappy earlier but Liz came closer, walked around and was satisfied. “Good. You're the last girl to arrive, so let's get going. You can put your stuff in the back of the van.” The wet nappy I had on now felt thick and I felt that I could use a change now. “Do I have time to run to the look real quick?” I leaned closer to her. “I'm quite wet.” Was there a loo nearby? “Uh no, do you think we can hold yourself?” I nodded though not sure if the nappy could. “Good. Then we got to go.” She led me in through the sliding door of the van and I took a seat beside a bored-looking girl with a sarcastic nerd phrase on her shirt. She wore black cargo jeans with all kinds of metal hanging from them. She whispered, “So, what's your story?” Before I could answer, Liz hopped into the driver’s seat and started the van. “Girls,” she called out through a speaker. “My name, as you all came into contact with, is Elizabeth Jones but you can call me Liz. I am the scholarship coordinator and founder of the Scholarship for Incontinent Girls. When I studied physics, I was embarrassed about having to explain to my hallmates, coursemates and friends that I had an incontinence problem. I realized that another incontinent girl would make a good hallmate and thus this scholarship came about. This camp is for several reasons. Mainly so you can get to know each other and find out who you to be paired with for moral support. The other reason is, unfortunately, to screen out people who are liars. I had to replace one girl earlier on who was not incontinent.” Minutes later, Liz continued. “So, get to know each other during this week. How about introducing yourself to each other now as I drive to the camp.” “My name is Kerri Kensington," the girl next to me began. "I am long tired of being teased about my incontinence. Having a mother who is not so discrete about it means everyone at school and my neighbour knew about it. This scholarship sunds great. I worried so much about uni and having to hide my nappies from others but I feel think group will give me support. I am excited about studying electrical engineering.” The girl who sat beside Kerri also wearing jeans spoke up. “My name is Michelle.” Her voice was softer and didn't give her surname. “I don't really have friends due to incontinence and will be studying Art History.” In the rear seat, a girl spoke up. “I'm Vera Horton. I'm just as normal as anyone else, or I was until the car accident where some drunk ran into me. The drunk doesn't have to wear nappies and it's not fair. Instead, he only got thirty days in jail. I instead have to spend the rest of my life in nappies.” She pounded her fists on the seat beside her. “Because of this, my boyfriend took someone else to my Year 11 and Year 13 prom. Will be reading Chemistry.” “My name is Bethany,” said her neighbour who had just looked up from a book. She wore all black with tight leggings. Even her nail polish and lipstick were black. “People already though I was weird with my love for black, so knowing about my nappies really made things worse. Will take modern history." The fifth girl introduced herself as Cath never Catherine. She worn a shorter skirt than myself. "I'll study my favourite subject biology and don't nappies to destroy my uni life.” I cleared my throat. “I'm Vicky Stevens. Am urinary incontinent birth since and my promised uni fund went away, so I thought I couldn't go to uni. Will be taking mechanical engineering." I hope that worked. The silence told me they accepted it. Chapter Three: The Meal About noon, Liz stopped at a local pub. I really wanted a fresh nappy. “Okay. Here is the plan. Cath, Vicky, and Michelle will go into the bathroom and change. Vera Bethany, and Kerri and myself will order our food. When you three return we will go change while you order your food. Then we will eat together.” In the toilet stall, I removed my skirt and looked down at my wet nappy. It was really wet - I did wet it a second time. I peeled off the tapes, rolled up the soggy nappy, then wiped myself off with baby wipes. Once finished, I put on a new Tena Slip like I had practiced many times by leaning against the wall of the stall. Back at the counter, I ordered a medium coke and a burger.
  20. Hi, I am trying something a little different. First person works for a lot of people, and I've had the advice before that I am emotionally disconnected from my characters when I write. Maybe Third Person is not a style that really works for me. So, I've decided to write Lauren's tales from the First Person Perspective to see if that helps with emotionally identifying, at least, with the main character. So, I've been watching some depressing movies lately about child fostering, adoption, and abuse, and somehow, this has sparked my need to tell another story. Now, I do not claim to know what true abuse is like, and I don't claim to have ever lived in a foster home ever, but I hope my empathy reaches to the point that this story makes sense. It has been a while since I've actually written a story outside of roleplay, and I don't mean to be insensitive at all, so if you are horrified by the emotions that someone that had not experienced it themselves, but who has the imagination to try to place themselves in the shoes of such a person, then please do not read this. It is meant to draw up strong emotions, though the main players in this story are NOT the cruel people that would have hurt the kid. The kid is just ten years old when the story opens.... Chapter 1 Was I Dreaming Again? The vibration of the car seat under me shook me so that I couldn’t relax. The drive was long. The new faces were yet to burn themselves into my heart. There was only the feeling that once again, I was in the fog of the unknown. What new rules were there to be? What new rules were there that they thought I already knew? What kinds of things will set off the ticking into an unmanageable explosion? Why couldn’t I just stay where I knew what they wanted? I looked down at my legs, covered by wine-purple sweats as I pushed my thighs towards each other. I knew why it was hard to make my thighs rest against each other, and why it was uncomfortable to make my knees touch, but that was normal. It wasn’t anything new. What mattered more, was that I kept the secret as long as I could so that I wouldn’t get caught, maybe have a chance to deal with the damp moisture on the skin around my privates. Please, don’t seep through, please don’t do it. It was late, probably after the time that most had dinner. I was sitting in the backseat of the dimly lit car with a girl a little smaller than me. She was wearing blue jeans and a pink top that had hearts around the collar, the sleeves, and the trimmings at the bottom. It was so cute! She was cute, too, but she was probably just like all the others. I best not talk to her. Best not do anything to upset her. She might tattle on me for something weird. She might even realize what I’ve done, and tattle about that. Something watery and itchy on my nose, my snot, made me reach up with the upper end of my arm, and as I sniffled, I wiped the water on my purple sleeve, the sleeve of my sweats. I turned to look out the window, hoping that the girl next to me didn’t notice that I saw her. I hoped she didn’t think I wanted to talk. I didn’t want any trouble. I felt my legs push towards each other, the knees touching on the tips, but it was like trying to keep a clothes pin back end together. It just didn’t want to stay like that, and sprung apart. I glanced down at the pocket of seat that was between my open legs. There was a dry red-brown seat there. I hoped it would stay dry all the way to the place we were going. It was dark outside. I hate the dark. “Mommy,” the little girl next to me suddenly made a noise that drew me out of myself. Alert that she had said mommy, I wondered if she was telling on me. I wondered what I did wrong, or maybe she knew that my privates were damp. Maybe she knew that the stiffness between my legs was …. “...I’m hungry,” the girl said. Her hair was darker brown, and when the light hit it, it sometimes looked a little red. She was shorter than me. She was smaller. But it was always the smaller kids that I had to be most careful of. They were the most trouble. All it took was one mistake, and her age, her size, her seemingly innocence would be used against me and I’d be hit! “Honey, pull over,” the lady in the front seat told the man. “The kids are hungry. We can surely take them out, right? Give us a chance to talk to our new child a bit more like a family.” The man nodded and seemed like he was smiling as he agreed to pull over. They were pulling over. Oh, no, there was no time to let it dry. They would get me out of the car, and they would notice what I’ve done. It only took a peek down my pants, or a light touch on my bum, and they would know. I was in trouble now. I tried to bury my face in my arms, and pretend to be asleep. I closed my eyes. It was probably not going to save a ten year old the disgrace of being found like this, but it might get me off. They might think I was just… um… a bed-wetting baby. Better that, then a ten year old kid that pees her pants all the time and causes trouble. But then, maybe they already knew. Most of the people by this time that would pick me up, would eventually get me home, check my pants, and tell me not to lie, that they knew I had peed my pants, even if I didn’t see how they knew it yet. Maybe they were told I’d pee my pants. I don’t know. It was just the confusing way they always spoke, that I was never really sure if they were told or not. “Honey, get Lauren’s diapers from the back?” the lady told the man as she went to my door. They knew I wore diapers then…. “I want to check her when we go in, and make her comfortable before she eats.” The man nodded and after opening the side of the car that April, the girl that sat next to me for her, he went to the back. He didn’t look at me at all. I couldn’t tell how mad he was, if he knew I was wet, but at least he wasn’t looking at me like I was going to get it. At least, he wasn’t looking like that just now. I shivered. Maybe we were in public. Maybe they had known I was leaking in my pants this whole time, and now, they knew I was wet. Maybe it would be embarrassing to them to leave me in wet pants, so they were going to change me, but when we get home, that would mean I’d really get it. We were walking into the restaurant. I felt a sting in my left eye, and a tear trailed down my face. I knew I was going to be discovered, and I was going to get it soon. I shivered. I felt the back of my pants, hoping it felt dry. I hoped it looked dry. I didn’t want to embarrass them. I knew if they were embarrassed, I’d really get it. “Mommy, that new girl is touching her bum with her hands,” the little girl told on me. I couldn’t help it. I was so scared and nervous now. I stopped and looked down, waiting for her to slap me for drawing attention to my shame in public. She came looming up before me. I put my arms up to guard my face. She reached around my body on both sides. I stiffened, and as I did, I drizzled pee into my diaper. The lady picked me up and she carried me. I had no choice. She was bigger. I dared not to yell at her to put me down. I didn’t want her to throw me to the ground. I could only stiffen as she pulled me to her, my face pushed against her bosom. She smelled like lavenders and her hair was fresh. She asked me to shush, but she did it differently than the last woman would have done. She didn’t touch my nose in a way that it would hurt. She didn’t sharply shush at me. She swayed with me, and she made the shushing sound, but it was a softer whisper-like noise. It was almost soothing. I couldn’t help myself. The rest of the pee was now in my diaper. I felt it leaking down my legs and collecting on my butt. She had me in her arms. I was wetting on her. She was going to find out. She was going to be disgusted and throw me any minute. The woman walked up near the man. “She’s wet,” the woman whispered to the man as they walked through the doors. “I’m afraid she’s getting me wet, too. Can you get my extra shirt out of the car once you get April settled, and bring it to the bathroom. I have to change our little daughter.” “Sure honey,” he said. He whispered. He didn’t yell, he didn’t glare at me. He didn’t even touch me with his hands. He leaned in and kissed my head. I had never felt someone do that when I was so disgusting before. He smiled at me when I looked up, like he… like he… I don’t know how to describe it. He wasn’t mad at all! Looking up at the woman, she wasn’t mad either. She was rocking me, and she took me right to the bathroom while the man and April sat down in the waiting area. The woman, whose name was Bridget, took me into a stall, before she sat me on my feet. She wiped my face with her hand, and whispered. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Accidents happen.” I looked up at her and she smiled at me. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We were told last week that you have toileting problems. We are not going to get mad over a little problem that can be fixed. She must have realized I was looking at the wetness on her shirt, the place I had peed on her. “This?” she asked as she touched her shirt where I peed on her. “It’s nothing. Your new daddy is going to get mommy a clean shirt as soon as he gets April a table, and then it will be like nothing happened.” She had lovely green eyes, freckles that made her less perfect than a model, but down to the earth approachable. She was soft, and when she touched me, she was gentle. She put her hands on my hips, or the sides of my sweatpants, actually, and pulled them down revealing a soaking wet diaper that had layer upon layer of padding inside it. I had put those pads inside, to try to absorb my pee as much as I could. I had one front layer in case it sort of went to the front a little bit, and then I had three layers between my legs and two layers on my butt, all made up of four pads. The woman gently pulled my diaper down. It was one of those panty-like diapers. I don’t know if it has a special name or not. Sometimes, I think I hear people say pull-ups, but I’m not sure if that is the real thing it is called. She saw how wet I was. I knew that she knew I had wet myself several times by now. It was so soaked. I waited for her to ask me if I was gross, if I liked peeing my pants, or if I was just too stupid…. “Oh, baby,” is what she said when she saw how wet I was. “How long have you been like this, honey?” Then she suddenly hugged me, and put her soft cheek against mine. Her arms were warm and welcoming. She worked around behind me, pulling my wet pants and my diaper all the way off of me. She rubbed my back, as she whispered in my ear. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Mommy is going to check you more often.” I blushed. I didn’t expect her to be nice about it, and to take the blame for me leaking in my pants. It was my fault. I am the stupid one that should have told them I was wetting my pants earlier, even before they had come to pick me up. No one at that place where they got me really checked me. Why would they? I was ten years old. None of the other ten year olds were checked, were they? She helped me into a clean diaper, and she put less layers of pads on me. She only put two layers on me, one that came a little bit to the front, but not as far us as my other one I did for myself, and one that went all the way around my bottom. She hugged me after she had me in a diaper, but my pants were wet. There was a knock at the bathroom outside door. “You stay here a minute,” Bridget told me. “That will be daddy getting mommy a clean shirt. I’ll send him out for a clean pair of pants for you, honey.” The woman left me in the stall, where I stood, looking down, wondering why she wasn’t yelling at me, why she was so soft and so quiet to me, why she made me feel better after I peed on her. The woman came back smiling. “Well, it turns out daddy is a mind-reader,” she told me. “See? He got you a skirt from your things.” Like all of my things these days, it was dirty, stained, and had little holes in it, but mommy ignored that like everyone else did, and she slid it up my legs. She smiled at me. “We’ll get you some better things tomorrow,” she told me. “Daddy said all of your clothes were like this.” I nodded. I couldn’t deny that all my clothes were stained and had holes in them. That was just what you grew to accept after you’d been in the system for more than two years, even if you didn’t wet your pants like I did. Bridget changed her shirt, and then she took me by the hand, and we sat at the table. I was surprised to see that April was not eating yet. I looked up at Bridget and then I looked at Jack. Jack was the man that called himself daddy to me. “Well, now we are all at the table, we can order,” he turned and looked at April. The younger girl, by about a year, smiled and nodded. “Is Lauren all comfortable now?” she asked, her question much more sincere than bully-mocking like others had been. There was no sing-song to the question. Her face was serious as she looked over at me, as though to look in my eyes. I thought she was telling on me to get me in trouble when she told them I was touching my butt, but her face wasn’t disappointed at all, when she saw I wasn’t crying. She looked different. She looked like, she, really wanted me to be comfortable. I nodded at her. She smiled, and she looked at Jack. “I’ll have whatever Lauren has,” and she passed the menu to me. I stared at it. I couldn’t help my hand shaking as she presented the menu to me. I wasn’t allowed to touch the menu, ever, before. I accidentally didn’t take it in time, and it fell to the floor. “I’ll get it,” April said with a cheerful smile, and she dived under the table to get it. Bridget motioned for me, so I got up and went over and stood by her side as she put an arm around me, and she pointed out the stuff on the menu. “You can have anything you want,” she told me. I looked over at Jack, shaking. I couldn’t believe, that not only April, who might have been naive about how this really works with foster kids, but now, Bridget was telling me that I could pick stuff and showing me the menu with her arms practically around me, not in a threatening—going to choke me kind of way, but the way I’d imagined real mothers put their hands around their own daughters as they comforted them. Jack smiled and nodded as Bridget tried to draw my attention back to the menu. I stood there, shaking. My legs were tense. My arms were tense. Something was wrong. This is not how they were supposed to treat me. I wasn’t supposed to even see a menu. I was supposed to come out of the bathroom with a sore butt for wetting my pants, at the very least. I was supposed to be crying. I was supposed to be sorry that I embarrassed them. Bridget wasn’t supposed to be wearing a smile and a different shirt at the same time! Something was wrong. I couldn’t think. I just closed my eyes and pointed at something random. Mommy laughed, but it wasn’t mean. She shook her head and asked me: “Did you even see where you pointed?” I shrugged. “April, why don’t you order, honey. We’ll let Lauren eat what you pick. She’s too nervous to do it this time.” The younger girl smiled and nodded. She looked up at Jack. “Can I get dessert?” “Of course, you can, baby. But you know the rule. You eat regular food first, and then if you are still hungry, then you can order a dessert.” True to their words, they ordered two orders of what April asked for. I don’t really remember what it was, only that both April and I got the same thing. I felt like I was getting full. This was the first real filling meal I had had in a long time. Foster kids were supposed to get something simple, like a bowl of mashed potatoes, maybe a bowl of macaroni, and if I was good, maybe something in the mac like tuna. I started to slow down on eating, and April looked at me. “Daddy will get you get some dessert,” she told me. “I promise, he will. He always tells me the same rule, but I never finish my dinner, and he still gets it for me.” Jack laughed. “Wait, you know I will do that, do you?” he had a playful smile on his face. “You clever little goblin! Don’t tell me you order less than you can eat on purpose just so you can make sure you get dessert, too?” April shrugged. “Well, don’t all kids?” He laughed and looked at Bridget who laughed too. I looked down. I didn’t want to lie to them about what I could eat. He told me to finish my food. I tried to pick up another bite, but Bridget took my fork. “It’s alright, honey. You ate a lot. You can get dessert, too.” We must have sat there, a little while. April made a face at me, and I looked over at Bridget and Jack, but they smiled. They didn’t say anything about it. I didn’t know if April was making fun of me at first, but then she took me by the hands, and she showed me, as if teaching me, how to make the face she made. “Look at daddy, now,” she pointed at Jack. Jack smiled at me, and he stuck his tongue at me real quick. I looked at him for a minute. He was smiling. His eye had laugh lines in them, and he nodded at me. “That means it’s your turn to make another face at him,” April whispered to me, though as loud as she whispered I knew that Jack had to have heard. He seemed to pretend not to though. I felt a dark presence over me, and I shuttered. I wasn’t supposed to disrespect adults. I was not supposed to make faces at them. If he is having fun now, would he pay me back for being disrespectful? Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder. Bridget had come to my side of the table while I was looking down, and she picked me up from the chair and hugged me. “That’s enough for now,” she told April. Bridget sat in my chair and held me in her lap. “Lauren isn’t used to this kind of playing,” Bridget explained to April as she rubbed my thighs. “That’s why she’s stiff, with tears on her face, and she’s shaking?” April questioned. “Yes, baby. Lauren is scared.” “I’m sorry,” April told Lauren. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Daddy and me play like this all the time. Of course, I would never stick my tongue out at him seriously. He knows I’m just playing, that’s why it’s okay.” I looked over at April, who patted me on the leg nearest her. “Two chocolate cakes with a side of ice cream,” I heard Jack suddenly say, so I turned my head to see what he was doing. He was talking to the waitress. The misses wanted ice cream, and I’d just like a cream doughnut.” I turned my head and looked up at Bridget with a sting in my eye again. It wasn’t a scared or a sad sting. It was something I couldn’t explain because I never felt it before. But it caused my eyes to water and a tear went down my face. “Mommy, Lauren is crying,” April observed with her own face looking sad. “Did I do something to make her sad again?” “No, honey,” Bridget said putting an arm around April. “She’s just confused, and she might even be happy.” “People don’t cry when they are happy,” April said and in my experience, April was right. “Honey, sometimes, people cry when they have powerful feelings, even feelings of happiness or love.” April just looked down accepting her mother’s words, but I was curious if Bridget really believed that. Maybe she was just trying to make April feel better. Adults lied to kids all the time for different reasons, and I’ve seen parents lie to their real kids about a harsh truth, just to make them forget about the terrible thing they saw. Bridget turned me in her lap so I was facing the table when the desserts came, and she ate her ice cream around me, while she whispered and encouraged me to eat as much of the cake and ice cream as she could get me to eat. I looked at it at first, but shook my head. I wasn’t supposed to get cake and ice cream. That was a treat for someone’s real kids, not the foster kids. “We ordered this treat for you,” Bridget whispered in my ear. “No one is going to eat it but you. If you don’t eat it, it will just sit there, and then it will be wasted because someone else could have ordered it.” I looked up at her and then at Jack. He nodded. “That’s your cake, baby. Please, if you are still hungry, please eat it.” April took a fork of it, and I thought she was going to eat it, but she put it up by my mouth. “Eat,” she whispered. Another sting in my eyes, a sting that went down into my insides, a sting that I couldn’t explain, as the cake was pushed into my mouth, and I slowly closed my teeth over the sponge of chocolate and the fork rubbed my teeth as it was pulled out of my mouth, April smiling. I wasn’t really hungry anymore. I was neutral. I was satisfied. I could eat more though, and surprising myself, I ended up eating the whole cake, mom and April feeding it to me as I was just too stiff, and too shaky to hold the fork and spoon on my own. I would never have dreamed I’d ever eat cake again. The last time, I couldn’t remember exactly, but I saw another loving face looking at me at the time. I saw two people that I sometimes dreamed about, but knew I’d never see again. I don’t know for sure, but I think, they are memories of my real parents. I rubbed my watery nose on the lower arm sleeve of my sweatshirt. Bridget smiled at me, and she took a napkin, and she wiped my nose. She whispered in my ear. “Blow, honey.” I puffed my cheeks and blew and then looked up confused at her. “No, silly,” April was quick to speak up. “She means like this, and she took a napkin, and she blew her nose. I blushed. I should have known better. I really am stupid. Bridget smiled and got a clean napkin and she tried again, to which, I did what was expected. No one had ever blown my nose…. No, wait, maybe that was wrong. Maybe a long long time ago. Maybe the person in my dream had done it. I am not certain, but I somehow feel like it is something she would have done. “Take April to the bathroom,” Bridget told Jack. “I want to take Lauren and check her diaper again, just in case. We’ve been here a while.” He nodded. I didn’t realize we were there that long at all. But Bridget took me to the bathroom. She stood me in front of her while she went, and while she was going, she pulled my skirt and my diaper down. It felt dry. “Do you want to try on the potty?” she asked me. I had not heard it called a potty in a very long time. I nodded. I wanted to make her happy. She gave me cake, and she fed me so I was actually not hungry with tummy rumbles. I really wanted to make her happy. I was put on the toilet after she was done, and she stood there. I knew she expected me to do something. When others took me to the toilet, even a week ago, they made me sit there there until it came out, and they got mad when it didn’t come right away. I looked up nervously, but not because she might hit me, but because I didn’t want to make this nice lady mad at me at all. I concentrated, and pushed on my stomach. “Baby, what are you doing?” Bridget looked upset somehow. Her eyes were narrowed, but she was looking at me pushing on my stomach. “I’m going potty,” I told her through a grunt as I tried really hard to make my body behave. “I don’t know who told you to do that, but that’s not how you go potty,” Bridget told me. She picked me up off of the toilet. “You know what, I changed my mind. Don’t use the potty right now, baby.” I looked at her a little confused. “Just go in your pants if you can’t hold it for now. Mommy will try again later.” “Was I bad?” I asked stiffening. “No honey. I just don’t want you hurting yourself. You were not doing it naturally at all, and I am afraid you will hurt yourself if you push on yourself like that all the time.” “I can’t just go in my pants,” I whispered. “Because it’s embarrassing?” Bridget asked me. I looked down. “I know it’s embarrassing,” Bridget put a tender hand on my shoulder. “And I’ll let you sit on the toilet again to try, if you promise not to push your stomach like that.” I nodded. She sat me on the toilet again. She must have seen the look on my face or something, but she had more directions for me. “No, Lauren. Don’t force it like that, honey. If you need to go, it shouldn’t take that much effort to go. It should be as easy as when it comes out accidentally in your diaper, baby.” I nodded, and tried to stop myself forcing, then it felt like it was not going to come out. I shook, scared of not getting any out. I looked up at Bridget, and she smiled and prodded me off the toilet. “Honey, it’s alright. We can try when we get home, and if you are wet before we get home, then mommy can just change your pants.” I nodded and looking down, I let Bridget pull my panty-diaper up, and then she pulled my skirt into place before taking me out to wash my hands. She hugged me after we washed my hands, and then suddenly, I was being lifted into her arms, and we walked back to the car, where Jack discovered, I had wet on the seat earlier. It had leaked before I knew it had, but he was not mad at all. He told Bridget to wait a minute, and he got a plastic sheet from the back and put it on the seat. “That will keep her skirt dry,” he was speaking to Bridget, but he looked at me, too, with a little wink. “We don’t want to wet that cute little skirt of yours, do we?” I looked down at my stained skirt, and then back up at him. I wondered if he was joking, or if he really thought this skirt was cute. It was still a bit of a drive to get home. They must have driven over a thousand miles to come and pick me up! No one ever drove like that to get me before! If anything, someone took me to a closer place for the people to get me, and sometimes, even dropped me off at their door, but never ever had a foster family come so far to pick me up and take me to their house. I could see April falling asleep not long after we had gotten out of the restaurant. She had a smile on her lips, and the last thing she did, was move her lips, or at least the last thing I saw, and it looked like she said my name, though no sound came out. I drifted off a few moments later, and then I was in hell again!
  21. Rebecca set her bag down upon the bed. Her bed now. At least, for the next semester. The choice to live on campus for her second year wasn't one easily made. Her parents had offered to let her stay in her old bedroom, and it wasn't that long a commute. But... she needed her freedom. There was a time in everyone's life when they needed to go out into the world to figure out for themselves who they are, and you didn't do that by living forever in your childhood bedroom. She couldn't be act like a kid forever. She sighed. Some might argue that last part for certain things. Despite what she wanted, some things wouldn't change. Other things, however, needed to change right now. She opened the bag and dug to the bottom. She felt around with her eyes closed until she landed on the familiar plastic feel. She pulled out the thick, white diaper and looked around her room. She could try going to the bathroom to change, but then she risked being seen. Changing here, however, meant finding a place to store a soaked diaper until she could take her trash out. She sighed, thanked god she managed to get an individual room and put a bag inside the sealing garbage can she had picked out specifically for this. She took hers off, wrapped it in an extra plastic bag, and shoved it in. She re-diapered herself and pulled her skirt down over it. She looked in the mirror and frowned. It wasn't too obvious but... her bottom definitely stuck out. She sashayed back and forth, and the sound of crinkling plastic came through. She told herself it was more obvious because she knew it was there, and realistically no one would be able to tell unless they were looking for it, but it was hard to convince herself. She opened her bag further and took out the bag of diapers. There were twenty of them, each thick, plastic, and unmistakable for what they were. At least they weren't the printed kind- she still remembered with horror when her parents presented her with a pink bunny covered diaper for a "fun change." She wrapped the bag in a blanket, shoved it in a suitcase, and looked around her room. Finally she hid it in her closet and sighed. The brand was far from what she would have wanted. She had considered just stocking up on the underwear like pull ups she wore at home, but even back then she rarely tried wearing them outside the house, or anywhere she'd be far from a bathroom. The next were a bit thicker but still paper backed and quiet. She'd wear them when she'd be out but knew she could change quickly. That had been harder to give up, but in the end it was also still wishful thinking. With hour long classes and even longer tests, not to mention walking all over the campus without a private bathroom, it was too much of a risk. On top of that, a leaking diaper in public was far worse then plastic underwear. So, here she was. She thought for a moment, then reached back into the bag and took a spare diaper out. She figured she should probably bring a spare around, just in case. The campus was large, and she couldn't always be sure to make it back in time. She then reached into her "regular" underwear drawer, took out a pair of briefs, and pulled them up her legs. It always made her feel more comfortable to have something extra in case her skirt ran up, and it helped keep the crinkle sound down. Someone knocked at the door. Before she could answer, a smoothed skin, perfectly formed face, flanked by long, bleached hair, poked inside. "Eeep!" Rebecca said. Thinking quickly, she let her skirt drop back down and threw her her blanket over her bed. "You a bit of a scaredy cat?" the head asked. It was Matilda, an annoying cheerleader who shared some of Rebecca's classes. "What are you hiding?" "None of your business!" Rebecca said. "I mean, nothing. What do you want?" "Just letting you know there is a party tonight," she said. "Oh, I uhhh..." it was tempting, but it was also a Wednesday night. "I really should study. I have a morning class." Matilda laughed. "Oh, the party is for cheerleaders only, silly. Just letting you know in case it got too loud." She slammed the door behind her as she left. Rebecca grumbled to herself. Of course there was no reason for her to mention it, she was sure the cheerleader just wanted her to know she wasn't invited. She packed and headed to class. The read-headed girl walked through the hallways. She kept telling herself the sound of her diaper crinkling was not as loud as it seemed. It was something she knew was true, but had still been a source of anxiety for years. Now, with the unfortunate choice of the extra thick diapers, and the close call, it was all she could think about. "Hello again Rebby!" Matilda said, coming beside her. Rebecca jumped, startled at her sudden appearance. "My your jumpy today Rebby. Or do you prefer Becca?" "I prefer Rebecca," she said. "Whatever you want Becca. Sorry about our little run in earlier, I hope I didn't sound like I was making fun of you." She was dressed in a tank top and short skirt, in direct contrast to Rebecca's sweater and long, plaid skirt. Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Not at all." "Its just, you know, only for cheerleaders. And their boyfriends. And some of their friends. And a few other people. But its ok, you got your own thing going. Love your long skirts and frumpy clothes! Its cute, like a schoolgirl, and I suppose you have to dress according to your build." "Wow, thanks. Yes, your tiny skirts just shout "maturity." A girl they were passing giggled. She had long black hair and short black dress, and hit her smile behind her hand. She winked at Rebecca as they passed. Matilda made a face as she was laughed at, then put on a fake smile and wrapped an arm around Rebecca stomach and pulled her in close. Rebecca kept walking but froze from the waist up. Where she was, Matilda's hand was dangerously close to her... She reached down and moved Matilda's arm away. "Sorry would you mind not doing that?" "Awww. I would mind not doing that, actually. I'm just trying to get close with my new friend." She put a hand around her waist again, this time lower. Rebecca looked at the arm nervously. She considered pushing it away again, but that would probably only encourage Matilda, and she didn't want to risk her trying again and ending up right smack in the wrong place. "I think that's close enough!" Rebecca said, wiping her hand away. Matilde smiled. "Wow! Feisty! You go girl!" she said, and smacked Rebecca on the bottom. There was a moment after the thud where neither spoke. Rebecca stared straight forward, and Matilda looked at her. "What was that?" Matilda asked. "What was what?" Rebecca said. "That sound." "Probably a bird." "No the thud." "Hit a tree." "Then there was a crinkling sound." "A plastic tree." "Awww that's a cute joke sweetie. Such a clever girl!" Rebecca pointed a finger at her. "Hey! Don't talk to me that..." She stopped as Matilda hooked a finger under her skirt and lifted. "HEY! Don't... Errr!" She said, pushing her skirt down. "Sorry, what was that little girl?" Matilda asked. She stepped a bit closer and put her hand back on Rebecca's skirt. She looked straight into her eyes and gave a mocking smile. "I gave you a compliment. What do you say, little girl?" "Ah..." Rebecca paused. It was only a second of contact, she wouldn't necessarily have seen anything. Then again, she might have already seen something from when she barged into her door and been suspicious. Rebecca shook her head. She was trying to think of a way out of it, but realistically she was beaten. Matilda had been teasing her before, but in an entirely different way. She must know. "Thank you for the compliment." "Good girl. Well have a good day! I'll see you in the afternoon class!" Matilda said, and ruffled Rebecca's hair, then hopped away in the other direction.
  22. 🍍 Part 1: “Family Haagen is looking for a full-time babysitter …” Elna Hetland was reading the e-mail from the babysitting agency. Elna was a cheerful young girl at her 19 and she had finished high school two months ago; unfortunately, her applications to the university were rejected. Now she needed a job, and the offer was more than generous. The family had only one 2 years old toddler girl and the wage was double of the usual rate. The job looked better than that of a secretary or a clerk. Elna had babysat in the past and she liked it a lot. “Elna, be careful, please. A double rate sounds suspicious,” Elna’s mother warned her daughter. “Yeah, mommy. I’ll be careful,” Elna nodded. She also realized the generosity; however, she wasn’t aware of any risk. Babysitting a toddler shouldn’t be dangerous though. She decided to find out more about the family as soon as possible. After dinner, Elna sat down to her computer and started searching. According to her findings, the Haagen family was quite wealthy, and they lived in a big villa. There was no personal information there, but Elna could have expected it. She dialed the number stated in the e-mail and a soft female voice answered the call: “Haagen villa,” it was probably a maid. “Elna Hetland speaking. I’ve got an e-mail from the babysitting agency, and I’m interested in the job.” “Wait a moment, miss. I’ll call Mrs. Haagen,” there was a short break until another female voice asked her. “Good evening. Miss Hetland, are you seriously interested in the job?” “Yeah, I am, Mrs. Haagen.” “Well, come tomorrow and we can talk about your job. However, our Amanda is a special child. She has had four babysitters until now and all of them have left. I’ll tell you more in person when you come.” “No problem, Mrs. Haagen. I’m sure I’ll take care of Amanda even if she is … special.” Elna was a bit confused, but she also was curious. After the call she couldn’t get rid of a strange feeling. Nevertheless, the curiosity took over. --------------------------- The next day she arrived at the Damhau street and stopped in front of the big villa. As she pressed the bell knob, a soft female voice sounded in the intercom: “Wait, please,” a minute later the door opened and an older lady in the maid uniform was standing in the hall. “Are you Ms. Hetland?” “Yeah, I am.” “Come in, Mrs. Haagen is expecting you,” she gestured at Elna and ushered her towards a luxurious living room. A middle-aged woman was sitting at the table. “Good morning,” Elna greeted, and the woman stood up and walked towards her. “Welcome to our house, Ms. Hetland. Take place please and we can talk about our job.” “Thanks, madam,” Elna sat down, and Mrs. Haagen took the place opposite her. The maid left and seconds later a small toddler girl ran into the room. “Are you my new babysitter? My name is Amanda,” she stopped in front of Elna and looked at her closely. “Yeah, Amanda. I am your new babysitter, and my name is Elna,” Elna smiled at Amanda and stroked her blonde hair; she noticed Amanda’s eyes and immediately realized that something was wrong. It was a feeling only, but Elna wanted to find out more. Amanda stretched her little arms towards Elna and Elna helped the little girl crawl onto her lap. Amanda hugged Elna and leaned her head on Elna’s shoulder. Elna hugged her back and felt the thick diaper package between her legs. Mrs. Haagen watched the scene for awhile, smiled and walked over to Amanda. “Sweetheart, go to your room and play a little while mommy talks to your new babysitter,” Mrs. Haagen asked her daughter. The little girl nodded, crawled down from Elna’s lap and left the room. Elna was surprised by the toddler’s prompt reaction. “Ms. Hetland …” “Call me Elna, please.” “Elna, I owe you an explanation. Amanda has been diagnosed by Approgressia infantilis. Her growth has stopped, and she stays a toddler forever.” “Oh, I’ve never heard about that disease,” Elna was taken aback. “It is extremely rare, but our little girl suffers from it. Fortunately, it doesn’t hurt, but she can’t grow, and she will need diapers for life. Otherwise, she is a nice and smart girl. You will see.” “Okay, Mrs. Haagen. I don’t think it will be an issue for me. I’m sure I’ll be a good babysitter. However, I don’t understand why four babysitters have left already.” “Well, let’s talk about your job,” Mrs. Haagen apparently didn’t want to speak about the former babysitters, “It is a literally full-time job. You will live in this house and take care of Amanda. Of course, you get your room, food and your wage as stated in the offer. If you still want this job, come tomorrow, and bring your personal possessions with you. We will sign the contract then. Helga can show you your and Amanda’s room before you leave. Helga!” “Thank you, Mrs. Haagen,” Elna stood up and the older lady entered the room. “This way, Ms. Hetland,” Helga ushered Elna upstairs. Amanda’s room was a luxurious well-equipped nursery. Amanda was sitting on the floor and playing with dolls; however, Elna again got a strange feeling while watching the little girl. Helga showed Elna her future room and Elna stopped dead in her tracks. The room was really luxurious and much larger than her own room at home. It was also equipped with a computer and a large TV set. While travelling home, Elna kept thinking of the offer. Something was definitely wrong, but she didn’t have any idea what it was. Mrs. Haagen wouldn’t tell her anything and Amanda was too little. On the other hand, Amanda’s behavior didn’t match a two-year-old toddler. Elna suddenly got curious; was there any mystery there? “Elna, I’m not sure if you should take the job,” Elna’s mother shook her head, “why have four babysitters left if the life there looks comfortable and luxurious, and the child seems to be nice and well educated. Also, the disease is strange. Maybe we should find out about it.” Elna nodded and switched on her computer. She really found the mysterious “Approgressia infantilis” and the description matched the former explanation from Mrs. Haagen. However, the search provided her with one single result. As for the four babysitters, Elna and her mother couldn’t even start searching if they didn’t know their names. “Elna, the job looks good, but I warn you; be extremely careful and don’t trust anybody there,” Elna’s mother was also confused; however, Elna needed a job and the babysitting looked like a good one. Elna packed her personal possessions into a big bag. Besides her clothing, shoes and cosmetics, she also packed her notebook. Although she noticed a computer in her room, she decided to take her own notebook, just to be sure. As she was packed, she went to bed; however, she couldn’t sleep well. Her mind was still occupied by the little girl and her mystery.
  23. Nora and Emma skipped down the sun-dappled street, their laughter harmonizing with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Hand in hand, they approached Nora's house, a cozy abode adorned with cheerful colors and an inviting warmth. Nora's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Emma, I'm so happy you're here for a sleepover! We're going to have so much fun!" Emma, equally thrilled, couldn't help but grin. "I can't wait, Nora! Your house is so pretty!" As they entered, the nursery greeted them with an array of stuffed animals, vibrant toys, and a soft, comforting ambiance. Nora's daddy, Mr. Johnson, stood nearby, his welcoming smile making the girls feel right at home. "Hello, you two! Are you ready for your sleepover?" Mr. Johnson's warm voice filled the room. "Hello, Mr. Johnson!" Emma greeted with a bright smile as she entered the cozy nursery. "Hello, Emma!" Mr. Johnson replied warmly, pleased by Emma's politeness. "Are you ready for a fun sleepover?" Emma nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mr. Johnson! I can't wait to play with Nora." Daddy checks Nora's diaper to make sure she's comfortable. He gently pats her diaper, feeling for any signs of wetness. Nora, with her bright eyes and cheerful demeanor, giggles playfully. "All dry, Daddy!" she chirps, confirming that her diaper is still snug and dry. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Emma playfully nudges Mr. Johnson and grins, "You know, Mr. Johnson, Nora's only dry because she just got changed at the Regression School. She had a messy accident, but they took good care of her." Mr. Johnson chuckles, appreciating Emma's teasing tone. "Well, it sounds like they're doing a great job over there. Thanks for keeping an eye on Nora, sweetheart." Nora joins in the light-hearted moment, giggling and adding, "Yeah, they really are nice, Daddy!" Mr. Johnson turns to Emma with a warm smile. "And what about you, Emma? Did you get a change too?" Emma blushes even deeper, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that matches her outfit. She clears her throat again, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "Um, no, Mr. Johnson," she stammers, "I'm, uh, still fully potty trained." Mr. Johnson gives her an understanding nod, his warm smile never wavering. "That's perfectly alright, Emma. We all have our own preferences and experiences. Just remember, we're here to support you in whatever way you feel comfortable. If you want to borrow one of Noras´s diapers just give me a call."Emma, appreciating the offer, shakes her head with a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Mr. Johnson, but I'll be alright. I'll stick with Panties for now." As Nora and Emma adjourn to the nursery, Daddy heads to the kitchen to prepare a snack or perhaps a meal for his little girls. He knows that after a day of learning and play at the Regression School, they'll need some nourishment to keep their energy up. In the nursery Emma looked at Nora with genuine curiosity. "Nora, if you don't mind me asking, what made you choose to wear diapers? Nora giggled. "I just really like how soft and cozy they feel, Emma. It's like wearing a big, warm hug all day! And they make me feel safe, like a little kid who doesn't have to worry about finding a potty in time. Plus, they come in such fun colors and patterns, it's like wearing cute clothes all the time!" Emma couldn't help but smile at Nora's enthusiastic explanation. Emma bit her lip, looking a bit concerned. "But Nora, what about accidents, don´t they feel uncomfortable or...icky?” Nora looked at Emma with a smile, trying to explain. "Well, Emma, it's like... it's all warm and cozy, and it makes me feel safe, like a big hug. And when it's wet, it's like a little tickle, and it reminds me that I'm being taken care of, just like a baby. It a really like being a wet diaper princess." Emma listened, trying to understand. "So, it's like being hugged by a warm, tickly cloud?" Nora giggled. "Yeah, kinda like that! And I don't have to stop what I'm doing to go to the potty, and I never have to worry about finding a bathroom. It's all taken care of right here," she said, patting her diaper with a smile. "And if it gets wet or messy, well, it's not really my problem, is it? Emma blushed, processing Nora's words. "I guess it’s not," she admitted blushing, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "That's right!" Nora giggled. "It's Daddy's or a caregiver's job to take care of it. They make sure I'm all clean and comfy again. It feels really nice, like being taken care of just like a little kid." Emma, feeling curious, looks at Nora and says, "You know, Nora, I've never tried diapers before, and I'm starting to wonder what it's like. Would you be willing to help me give it a try?" Nora's eyes sparkle with excitement as she claps her hands gently. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun, Emma! Don't worry, I'll help you with everything. It's like being wrapped in a soft, fluffy cloud," she exclaims.Nora gently takes Emma's hand and leads her to a cozy corner of the nursery. She smiles reassuringly. "Alright, Emma, let's get you all set up." With a tender touch, she helps Emma remove her clothes, folding them neatly on a nearby chair. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Nora encourages, her voice warm and comforting. Nora realized with a shock, that didn’t know the first thing about diaper changes, it having been Daddy´s responsibility for so long. Nora hesitates for a moment before deciding to go to the kitchen and fetch Daddy. She walks in, blushing a little, and finds him in the kitchen. "Daddy, um... could you come to the nursery? We, uh, need a little help with something," she stammers, feeling a bit awkward about the situation. Daddy looks up from what he's doing, a curious expression on his face. "Of course, sweetie. What do you need help with?" Nora shifts uncomfortably, glancing back towards the nursery. "It's, um, about the diapers," she mumbles, her face turning even redder. Daddy nods understandingly and sets down what he's holding. "Alright, let's go." He follows Nora back to the nursery, where Emma is waiting, her face also flushed with embarrassment. They all stand there, a mix of curiosity and nervousness in the air. Daddy notices Emma's uncertain expression and gently asks, "Emma, would you like to give diapers a try? It's perfectly okay if you're not sure, but if you're curious, I´m here to help." Emma looks between Mr. Johnson and Nora, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity. After a moment, she nods shyly. "I... I think I'd like to try, just to see what it's like," she admits, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. Nora´s Daddy smiles warmly. gestures towards the shelves filled with various diapers. "Emma, why don't you go ahead and pick out a diaper that you think you'd like?" Emma walks over to the shelves, her heart pounding with nervousness and anticipation. She examines the colorful designs, finally selecting one with soft pastel patterns, similar to the diaper on Nora´s butt. She turns back to Mr. Johnson, holding it in her hands. "I think... I'll try this one," she says, her voice a bit shaky. Mr. Johnson smiles approvingly. "Good choice, Emma. Now, let's find a comfortable spot for you." He leads Emma to a changing table, gently guiding her to lie down. He reassures her, "Remember, there's no rush, and you can let me know if you're uncomfortable at any point." Emma nods. Daddy skillfully unfolds the diaper and gently lifts Emma's legs, sliding it underneath her. He carefully applies some powder and then smoothly fastens the tapes, ensuring a snug but comfortable fit. Throughout the process, Emma feels a mix of vulnerability and trust. Nora watches with wide-eyed fascination, giggling at the sight. "You look so cute, Emma!" she exclaims, unable to contain her excitement. Emma blushes deeply, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and a surprising sense of comfort. She looks up at Mr. Johnson, who offers her an encouraging smile. "There you go, all set," he says gently, helping Emma sit up. Emma shifts experimentally, feeling the soft padding of the diaper against her skin. It's a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. She looks down at herself, still adjusting to the sight of a diaper peeking out from under her clothes. Daddy and Nora exchange a knowing glance, both clearly delighted that Emma has taken this step. "You're doing great, Emma," Daddy praises, patting her on the back. Daddy gently lifts Emma off the changing table and sets her back on her feet. The girls are then free to return to their play. Emma, however, can't help but be distracted by the unusual sensation of her diaper. As she moves around and plays with Nora, she finds herself periodically touching or adjusting the diaper, still not entirely used to the feeling. Nora notices Emma's preoccupation and chuckles. "It's okay, Emma. Diapers take a little getting used to, but you'll see, they're not so bad once you get used to them. Let's keep playing!" She grabs Emma's hand, eager to continue their imaginative adventure. [too be continued]
  24. “Daylily” will focus on regression and babying, and will have little to no actual sexual content. This series features the same main character as my earlier story, “Delilah.” It will also be publicly available on my patreon. All characters are adults. This is still fetish content, so 18+ readers only please. Delilah’s Daddy unsnapped the straps of her booster seat and helped her out of the car. She put her arms around his neck and allowed herself to be lifted out and set on her feet. Her pink and white sneakers crunched on gravel as she touched the ground. He kissed her cheek and handed her sea-turtle plushie, which she clutched to her chest. Turning away, he went to fish her backpack out of the back seat. Delilah smoothed the skirt of her onesie against her slim thighs and fiddled with her pacifier clip. Daddy had let her pick out a new onesie for the occasion, and she’d chosen sky blue with a pattern of yellow flowers. They had both had fun getting her ready; her hair was up in pigtails, and Daddy had selected blue and yellow hair ties to match her onesie. She had loved how she looked when they left the house that morning, but now she felt anxious and self conscious. Being babied in public was new to Delilah. She knew that this secluded house, shielded from the road by a thick row of evergreens, was hardly “public.” Still, she felt exposed, standing in a stranger’s driveway dressed like a little girl. They were parked in front of a board fence that separated the driveway from the yard. “Daylily” was painted in cheerful yellow letters on the sign that hung from the gatepost. She stood on tiptoe to see over the fence. Fruit trees obscured the house, but the yellow siding was visible through the branches. Dandelion yellow. Daylily yellow? She wasn’t sure. Delilah did not know much about flowers. She heard Daddy behind her. “Here, let’s get your backpack on, sweetie.” Delilah let her Daddy slide the straps of her jellyfish backpack up her arms. The main compartment in the bell of the jellyfish held her snacks and an emergency change of clothes, as well as the gameboy and three bags of candy she’d shoved inside when Daddy wasn’t paying attention. Plush tentacles hung down her back and swung as she moved, brushing her bum. He took her hand and smiled at her. “Ready baby?” Delilah nodded. Her small hand trembled in his steady one. The gate creaked as Daddy opened it and lead her through. She held her sea-turtle firmly by one flipper, swinging him against her leg as she walked. A path of stepping stones led them through the fruit trees and towards the house. The leaves whispered in the breeze as they passed under them and Delilah could hear insects buzzing. Outdoor toys were sitting in the shade of the trees; a playhouse, a blue plastic rocking horse, a toddler slide. Swings hung from the largest branches. As they stepped out from under the trees, the house came into full view. Delilah stopped. It was large and sprawling, and spilled over the slight hill that it sat on like a riot of yellow daylilies, daffodils, dandelions. Behind the house, Delilah could see the tops of playground equipment and something shining - was that water? Her heart was beating fast. What would they be like? How was she going to handle being little without Daddy there? Daddy let go of her hand and rubbed the small of her back, making the tentacles of her backpack sway. “Are you still nervous, sweetie?” “Little bit.” Delilah laughed uneasily and sucked in air through her teeth. She turned around to hug him, wanting to hide against him. Which wasn’t easy - she was four inches taller than he was. “You’re gonna have so much fun, sweetie.” He squeezed her gently, rubbing her hips. Her diaper rustled under his palm. “And you’ll have lots to tell me about tonight.” “But I’ll miss you." “I’ll miss you too, sweetheart.” Daddy scooped her up, holding her against his hip. Although Delilah was tall, her build was tiny and birdlike. Her Daddy, short and heavy-set, could lift her easily. “But it’s just for the day.” “I know.” She put her arms around his shoulders, her sea-turtle flopping against his back. His beard tickled her cheek and her diaper squished under his hand as he supported her butt. Delilah blushed. She hadn’t realized she was wet already. He carried her the rest of the way to the house. Flowerbeds flanked the front door, and lilies and peonies looked up at her as Daddy climbed the steps. She reached out and trailed a hand along the railing. It was warm under her fingers. It was going to be hot today. She could already smell it. They had reached the top of the steps. Daddy kissed her and tickled her tummy, and she giggled and smiled despite her nervousness. He picked up her pacifier from where it was hanging against her ribs and placed it in her mouth. “Do you want to ring the doorbell, baby?” Delilah nodded, suckling her pacifier to help calm herself. The doorbell was shaped like a sunflower, the button was the black seed head. She took a deep breath, and rang.
  25. This is a short story that is knocking around in my head begging to be put on paper? Since this is an electric storyboard I will put it here! Chapter 1: "Beckie!" Called her mom you got a letter! Beckie Wilson wondered who would write me? The letter was definitely for her. Miss Beckie Wilson 328 W. 5200 S. Ogden, Utah 84403. The return address was Johnathon Barrett P. O. Box 89 Sommerville, Utah 84722. I don't know anybody from Sommerville, Utah! Who would be writing me she thought? She didn't get much mail and what she did was from close friends when they go out of town, postcards from places like Disneyland, Carlsbad Caverns, Shelly sent her a couple last year. She opened the letter. May 22, 2018 "Dear Beckie, you don't know me." Okay so I don't know him, why would he be writing to me? "You don't know me. but you know my Aunt Shirley Barrett." Okay, the lady next door. I do know her. Beckie blushed even at almost 19 years old when her parents go out of the town she goes and stays there to stay. Shirley was her babysitter. It was okay she liked Shirley. She just wished her parents trusted her enough not to send her there, she knew why they sent her there. "Aunt Shirley is here with us and she gave me your name and address." "Like you I am 18 years old." "I like playing golf, which I am pretty good as I'm on my Community College team." Beckie played golf as well her dad taught her, is that all they both golf. Is that all they have in common? She read on. "My Aunt tells me that even at 18 she still babysits you." Beckie blushed again yeah I must be pretty lame to have to be babysat at 18 years old. There is a reason. "I don't think you're lame because at 18 you still get babysat." "Right now that is what she is doing for me." Okay, Beckie thought like me his parents don't trust him. "Shirley also told me like you we share other things besides golf." "Whew!" He wrote "We both still wet our beds at 18 years old." "I know how you feel its something most of our friends outgrew a long time ago." "She told me about your friend Melissa that both of you grew up wetting your beds." "But Melissa stopped at 15, you didn't!" "For me, it was my friend Michael he stopped at 17." "He was the only other friend that I had that was like me." "There used to be several of us 6." "Then when we hit 7, we lost Brent he stopped wetting his bed." "Then at 12, we lost 3 more." "Then Michael at 17." "That leaves only me." "Aunt Shirley told me like you used to have friends that left you alone after they've stopped wetting their beds." "I feel your loneliness." "Were considered adults but we sleep like babies, still in diapers and plastic pants." "The reason I'm writing is that my parents are coming up there to Ogden and then catching a flight to England." "I will be staying with my Aunt for a couple of weeks." Beckie wondered when her parents are leaving town in a couple of weeks would Shirley have both of them? "This will be the first two weeks of June for me!" wrote Johnathan. No way she thought that's when my parents are leaving. We will be together for two whole weeks. What if he doesn't like me? What if he is a total barf bag? I'm kinda cute, other than I'm lame and still wet my bed, I could have my choice of guys. That little secret right there is the reason you don't date she thought! It kind of hard to be our age and still be wetting our beds, dating is difficult. Most guys want more than she could give them, sleeping together is not an option. The reason she didn't date was that she was considered frigid. She didn't put out. Maybe having a fresh person to date who knew about her problem would work out. What's the worst that could happen, they hate each other? He mentioned playing golf that sounded good, she wasn't very bad at it. She was pretty good at it really. She wrote him back. "Dear Jonathan, I look forward to your visit the first two weeks of June. I look forward to golfing with you. I'm enclosing a picture of me so you know what I look like? It may sound shallow but could you send me one of you as well?" Beckie "P.S. Bedwetting is something we both do, it's not a basis for a relationship. If we find were compatible in other ways that are what to base a relationship on.
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