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  1. I have been using stents for many years now and for me it's by far the best solution to become incontinent. I can keep it in as long as I like my incontinence. Most of the times I use it three to four days at a time, but sometimes, like now, I can't get enough of that helpless feeling and keep it in for a few weeks. For me it is completely safe, it never hurts and I never had a UTI using my stents. Using stents I become totally incontinent, so I dribble all the time when standing or walking around. But when I sit the urethra is closed by the pressure of the diaper between my legs so the dribbling stops and the pee stays in the bladder. If I remain seated for a long time the pressure in the bladder keeps building up untill it gets too high. Then I start having urges causing the urethra to suddenly give way so I start peeing large amounts in my diaper. The same goes for caughing, laughing or sneezing while sitting in my diaper. The pressure caused by these actions forces the urethra to open up for a while and let me pee small amounts. If I stand up from my chair my bladder will start emptying itself completely and sometimes it means I have to change immediately. In bed my incontinence is different again. If I am lying motionless the driblling also stops and my bladder starts acting like a reservoire again untill I start having slight urges. Then my bladder starts emptying immediately, but not completely. Sometimes I wake up from having these urges, but most of the times this seems to happen while I am asleep. If I turn around, caugh or sneeze I also wet myself a little. Getting out of bed my bladder completely empties itself and then the dribbling starts again. So being totally incontinent you will experience not only constant dribbling, but also urge and stress incontinence depending on the position you're in. But one way or the other, you will never be able to reach a toilet without an empty bladder (and a wet diaper). Apart from urinary incontinence I sometimes experience some other (un)pleasant side effects of using stents. Due to the fact that the stent is also inside the prostate it will gently massage it when you are walking. It has happened a few times that I had orgasms in public. The excitement of being incontinent, the pressure of the wet diaper between my legs and the prostate being massaged all the time, is sometimes simply too much to handle. Wearing a stent for extended periods also affects the strength of my anal sphincter. That's why I have had several accidents doing number two in my diaper when I wasn't anywhere near a toilet, also in public!! And that kind of incontinence is not exactly what I like, but it happened nonetheless.
  2. 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.
  3. Just before 25-year-old programmer and chess IM (International Master) Isabelle drowns, she is pulled to the Diaper Dimension by the UN's Dimensional Rescue Group. Things don't quite go her way, but she has a powerful ally... Your Move Foreword Welcome to my first story. Ever since two of my favorite authors* introduced me to the Diaper Dimension, it's become one of my favorite genres, and I thought I'd give back to the community in the form of this work. If it were not for the legends before me, this story wouldn't exist, so I'm honored to write it. Many thanks go to BabySofia, YourDiapersCute and Acer for beta-testing it. Y'all helped me improve my writing and gave me motivation to write. Finally, PrincessPottyPants must also be acknowledged for INITing the sandbox. Please be advised that this story contains ABDL content. Even if this isn't your cup of tea, there's some interesting content I have to offer (but consider yourself warned). If you like chess, advanced tech or computers, then you're in for a treat! I currently have the first of 3 parts of the story completed (you'll want to read the updated version here:) I'm posting one chapter of Part 2 (well, what I've written anyway) every Wednesday here! I hope you'll enjoy this story, and please do comment your thoughts and suggestions! ©@DiaperedPrince2021-2022, all rights reserved. Please do not repost any part of this story to any other website, platform or medium, at any time, without my express written consent. :3 *@BabySofia and @YourDiapersCute Part 1: Opening "Attackers may sometimes regret bad moves, but it is much worse to forever regret an opportunity you allowed to pass you by." — Garry Kasparov Chapter 1 — What the Hell I never expected it to be like this. Frankly, I didn’t think I was even supposed to be in Hell. Even though I wasn’t the most devout Christian, I certainly was one. So shouldn’t I have gone to Heaven? Even if I take the secular interpretation, don’t only bad guys end up here? I’m pretty sure I’d been a good girl — most of the time anyway. Of course, human nature made being perfect all the time impossible, and I’ve certainly done my share of sinning. But… but… this?? I don’t think that anything I’d ever done had made me deserve this. Did some angel mess up? Or was it a bug in some kind of software? Did angels even use software to make these decisions? Leaving aside the ‘why’, shouldn’t Hell be all hot and fiery, and shouldn’t Satan be a guy? I pinched myself just to confirm I wasn't dreaming, and looked around the dilapidated, dirty room for the third time since I'd opened my eyes a minute ago. The 20-by-30-foot space was dimly lit by a small window almost opaque from dust and stains. The looming figure of the Devil, about twice my height, was clunking away in front of a stove, puffs of smoke coming out of her mouth rhythmically as she dragged on a cigarette. I wretched again at the malodorous pile of dirty dishes, pots and pans that sat in the sink next to her, unwashed, and the overflowing trash can beside it that contained a large mound of unidentifiable ooze whose composition I could only guess at. A lonely mattress, straight from a prison cell the way it was stained, filled the opposite corner of the room. All the furnishings, intimidatingly large to me, were clearly sized for her. What was most disturbing was a pile of reeking garbage bags that filled the last corner of the room, ending just inches from the mattress, and topped with a pair of flies buzzing around angrily. My disgusting panorama was interrupted by a noxious wave of cigarette smoke reaching me, making my head spin. I choked and coughed, nauseous and unable to breath. When the air had cleared somewhat a moment later, I drew a deep breath, inhaling the putrid stench of the space once again. Though it wasn't exactly hot, the room was bordering on that, and the air was unpleasantly humid and warm. A trickle of sweat meandered down my face. Whatever I was wearing was definitely much bulkier than necessary. I looked down at the lavender footed sleeper I was dressed in, certain that it wasn't what I'd put on the morning that I died. It was frayed but soft, and the cute design adorning the front had long faded. Somehow, whoever had re-dressed me for this place knew that I liked purple. I'd actually owned a very similar outfit before I died, but mine had been less... cute? The similarity stopped there, however, as I noticed the straps that connected the butt of the sleeper, just below the end of the long zipper, to the heels of the feet. They evidently fulfilled their purpose of preventing me from getting up onto my feet. Odder yet, my undergarments felt utterly foreign to me. I was flat-chested enough that I rarely wore a bra, so it didn't surprise me that I wasn't wearing one, but the pillow hugging my loins stuck out to me just as much as it spread my thighs apart. I felt the thick padding experimentally, confirming that it was some sort of ultra-thick diaper — a word that still made me blush as it stirred memories of my bedwetting fiascos as a child. Thanks to the heat caused by the pillow of a diaper, my nether regions were even warmer than my other body parts, but this discomfort was nothing compared to the ringing alarm bells that my bladder was sending to my brain, telling me to 'get to a toilet, now!' In desperation, I cleared my dry throat and spoke for the first time since I'd died, "I eed oo you a waoom." I blushed harder as I heard my own words, blatantly incoherent, and found the gag in my mouth. How on earth did I not notice this thing? I tried pulling it out and retrying my plea, and it suddenly expanded with a loud POP! My jaw felt like it was on fire as I cried out in pain! Satan turned around and I got to see her face for the first time. Her washed-out green eyes were partially covered by strands of her matted, unkempt, dirty blonde hair. She looked like she was about fifty-five, and the wrinkles on her face scrunched up into a frown so ugly that I shuddered. "Quiet, Christa!" She scolded in a crackling voice, turning back to whatever she was brewing. Who's Christa? I scanned the room once again quickly. There was definitely no one else here. Is Christa what they call Christians here? Does it mean— My bladder once again interrupted my thoughts with its tingling, and I tried to squeeze my legs together and press a hand between them to prolong peeing myself. The thickness of the diaper rendered both efforts futile, so I frantically searched for a toilet. I could see a weathered but imposingly tall door and a curtain on the opposing wall which was just as large. The paint on the door had peeled and the curtain's designs had most likely washed out years ago. Realizing that I had no other options since I couldn't even stand up, I whimpered as the floodgates opened and I wet myself. The Devil clearly didn't notice what had transpired, but I almost broke into tears as I pawed at the warm wetness between my legs, spreading its tendrils into the thirsty padding. I hadn't felt anything like this in years, and my memories of waking up in a cold, wet diaper as a little girl came flooding back. The pain in my jaw had dulled somewhat, but it still ached, and I rubbed it, choking back tears. In an attempt to distract myself from my distressing situation, I recalled the last moments of my life... "Mom, dad, are you guys ready to go?" I called out as I set the burglar alarm and locked the front door on my phone. "Yeah hon!" My dad shouted back from the car. I jogged over to the driver's seat, climbed in, and started the car. Putting on some nice classical music, I started driving to the annual regional chess tournament, where I was hoping to secure my third GM norm, which would promote me from an International Master to a Grandmaster, a title I'd spent the better half of my life trying to secure. 'GM Isabelle Green' would look perfect on my website, I noted to myself. As I drove down the winding road hugging the mountain, I marvelled at the lake on the other side of the road. Its crystal-clear waters perfectly reflected the blue summer sky, on which a family of ducks were making a wide V-shaped wake. As I rounded a bend in the road, a large semi truck suddenly bore down on me from the opposite direction! The driver must have been either drunk or crazy, because it was driving dead-center on the two-lane road! I heard my mom shriek as I swerved quickly to the right, narrowly avoiding a deadly head-on collision. Just as I thought the incident was over, the steering wheel was wrenched from my grasp! The three of us joined into a collective scream, as the crystal-clear water loomed closer and closer. It was almost like everything was in slow motion, like I was watching an action movie. It must have been only a second or two from my driving off the edge to the impact of the water, but it felt like hours! People say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, but my mind was totally blank as the car slid silently below the depths. The slight thud as the car hit the bottom of the lake jolted me to my senses, and I quickly looked behind me to check on my parents. They appeared to have either fainted or been knocked unconscious by the collision with the surface of the water. I undid my seatbelt, twisted around, and struggled to free them as well. Once I got their arms free from the seatbelt, I pulled out the headrest of my seat and used the pointed end to smash open my side window, knowing that the doors wouldn't open yet due to the pressure difference. However, I wasn't prepared for the ice-cold water that gushed through the window in torrents, smacking me in the face and sending me into a stupor. Surrounded by a frenzy of air bubbles, I let out a cry, muffled by the water pouring into my lungs, as I began to drown! *** "Pull her now!" Dr. Torelli yelled, determination and a hint of desperation evident in her voice. Not wasting a millisecond more, I hit F6 to run the extraction script and watched as the localized portal leveraged quantum entanglement to swap the girl with a proportionate amount of fluid in the transfer tank. The process had been perfected by the legendary Dr. Bremer's protégé, Wilhelm Münch. After undergoing field trials by private sector organizations like the Procurement Agency for Childlike Littles, it was now being used by the Dimensional Rescue Group of the United Nations' Interdimensional Commission to give people from the other dimension a life after their sudden deaths. Every second that I'd had to watch the livestream of the accident was pure torture, delivered in submillimeter-pixel holographic gory from the ceiling-mounted volumetric display projector. The feed showed the girl's vitals directly on her translucent body, which was stitched together in real-time by advanced AI. The data and imagery were being captured by nanobots in the other dimension using a mix of lidar, x-ray, and millimeter-wave imaging, since we were working underwater. Visible light at that depth would be blurry at best. We had a strict protocol to follow, so I was forced to wait until Dr. Torelli, the physician on the team, affirmed that the girl couldn't possibly survive without some sort of miracle (that we'd pull off) before executing the extraction. I breathed a sigh of relief as the tank's indicators showed that she was still alive. It was not the first time the team had done this, so as soon as the script finished and the indicator screen flashed a green 'GO', the medics breached the tank's seal and lifted the girl onto the waiting operating table with a calm and skillful preparedness. "DNA verification successful. Subject is twenty-five-year-old Isabelle Green, caucasian, height five-four, weight one-nineteen, pulse forty. Symptoms include water inhalation and cold shock." The extraction room's AI helpfully listed. I heard a hiss as one of the medics nasally delivered the nanites that would be used to clear the Little girl's lungs of fluid via an oxygen mask. Another medic quickly diapered her, not wanting a shock from the nanites to cause any more of a mess. I loaded a standard electrolysis program I had written for the nanites, wirelessly uploading it to them. "Clear! Activating!" When the holographic vitals floating above the operating table improved, everyone in the room visibly relaxed. I knew that nanites had yet again saved a life, electrolyzing the water in Isabelle's lungs into harmless oxygen and hydrogen gas. They had first formed a thin film around her alveoli, the parts of her lungs that oxygenated her blood, and then started the electrolysis process from there so that she could breathe. I shuddered as I remembered that the other dimension still stuck tubes into the lungs, often causing irreversible damage to the trachea and bronchi. A swarm of exothermic nanites spread throughout her bloodstream, warming up her body to prevent hypothermia and treat the cold shock she'd experienced from the icy lake. "Good work people! Let's send her to recovery." I congratulated the team as I let go of Isabelle's hand, which had gone from cold and clammy to a comfortable room temperature. They'd all done their jobs well, a quick glance at Isabelle's now strong and stable vitals confirmed. Inwardly, I regretted not being able to save her parents as well, but we had limited staffing, time and resources, so we couldn't save everyone. We always prioritized the young and healthy. And the girls. I shuddered at that last one. As a Canadian Dimensional Rescue Lead, I was proud of how well Littles were treated and how equal their rights were up here in Canada, at least when compared to other more bigotted countries. Little weren't granted anywhere close to equal rights in many other countries, like our southern neighbors the United States. Since the headquarters of UNIC were in the US and the majority of its directors were Acimeran, I knew just why the Little-owning Bigs down south had set those criteria in our guidelines. They were more adoptable. I looked over at Isabelle being wheeled out of the room. She was very cute. Very adoptable. "Thanks Mike, you know you're the best." Dr. Torelli patted my back. I nodded. I'd basically written the book on extractions. As one of the first DRLs, I'd helped set up the program and personally programmed a lot of the tech around me as a result. When you design the system, well, you tend to know everything inside out. "You're not so bad yourself, Doc." The rest of the team followed the medics out of the room, and I was about to go with them, but something stopped me in my tracks. I... couldn't help but feel a pang of... emotion. For Isabelle. What was it? Pity? Guilt? Love? Whatever this is, it isn't something I've felt before. I sat down at my workstation again. "Where's her destination?" I asked the room's AI on a whim. "Ollirama, Jacinto". I shuddered again. That was down in the deep south, one of the worst places that a Little could end up in. I made a note to check up on her situation in a few days, and got up to join the others in the break room. =========================================================== That's Chapter 1 folks! Hope you enjoyed reading it! Leave a like and a comment to make my day ?
  4. Hello I'm new here i wanted to share thoughts on my diaper plays. I have achieved a type of incontinence which i feel is the most difficult to manage, constantly dribbling urine from the use of stent. It really is a mind bending experience of constantly feeling rush out of your penis with every small movement you make. You can try to suck it up to stop the urine like you did a few moments ago before the installation but it just won't stop. All you do all day is spurt spurt spurt into your diaper. This experience is really intense and completely changes your lifestyle if you wear it for a long time. You always have to wear a diaper! That much is pretty clear, but issues arise in those small gaps you don't wear it. When changing diapers you have to put your new diaper under the old one and do a quick swap. This maneuver is awkward as hell. Also I really like to stay clean in my crotch area and always feel like having a quick rinse inbetween changing diapers. But with constantly dribbling incontinence there's no point in having a quick cleaning, it literally only lasts 1 minute before you're wet and soggy again. I forget to mention the main issue of dribbling type of incontinence which i am sure everyone agrees is the capacity detection. Your all fine sitting in your chair working or playing on your computer and whoos, you now have a soggy chair because forgot to change your diaper 30 mins ago. But theres no way to tell it was 30 mins ago, because this wildly depends on your water intake since the last change. Another issue i have found is when taking a shower or bath. You really feel good cleaning your whole body even though your peeing constantly while doing so which i don't have an issue with as it doesn't really matter on the shower. But as soon as you step out the bathroom you have to control your dribble. You can't even take a slow drying with your towel and enjoying the sunlight. Moisturizing your skin and such. But nope! go back into diapers as soon as possible if you don't want urine stained floor. You can really miss those small moments of peace. I would love to hear your experiences as well if you have or achieved this type of incontinence. It may seem abit like a rant but i do really love the experience when you temporarily have this type of incontinence. Hope you guys enjoy it too, i can really sympathize with people who do have this type of incontinence.
  5. Hey everyone! I'm new here, but have been a super long-time lurker. I started this story a while ago, pre-pandemic, but have recently been interested in continuing working on it. Full disclosure, I initially posted this on reddit years ago, but I'm such a fan of a lot of the writing and discussion that happens here, so I figured I'd throw my hat in the ring. I would love any and all feedback and criticism y'all might have! Could help me as I start mapping out where I'd like to go with the story! This is a gay story, so if that's not your thing, fair warning. There's also some cursing. And finally, though these first three chapters don't involve it (beyond a passing mention), there will be messing involved in this story later on. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter One: A New Beginning I nearly slipped on a pile of loose dirt as I sprinted around a corner into a narrow alleyway. My heart thumping out of my chest, I swiftly dodged a heap of trash bags and a stained couch missing one of its cushions. I couldn’t look back. There was no time. I wasn’t sure quite why I was so afraid, or where exactly I was running, but regardless I zoomed my way out of the alley and around the corner onto the adjacent street. Suddenly finding myself weaving through a million cars and taxis and dogs and pedestrians, I just about lost my mind. I could feel some sort of doom trailing behind me, crashing like some sort of tidal wave. But I couldn’t think about it. I swear, it was as if all that I was, my entire essence had become just RUN RUN RUN RUN. If I was even breathing, it was light-years faster than my pace, like, a thousand breaths a second. Don’t breathe, I thought, just run. Don’t turn around, just run. Don’t think.... Oh god, what’s happening? I looked down at my legs leaping across the pavement, but something was wrong. They weren’t moving. I could feel my body piercing the air, speeding down the street like some deranged, out of control bullet, but my feet just hung in place. Staring at my limp legs, I could hear the mighty flood approaching, only inches behind me. Before I could even turn to meet my fate, I was consumed by immense, devastating crash, cracking my bones and crumbling my body beneath it. I sensed the wave pulling me in, breaking into every crevice of the world, drenching everything in darkness. ******** “Jesus fuck!” Without warning, I jolted awake, out of breath. Blinded by the sun, I looked over at my brother hunched over at the wheel. “It’s called a blinker, shit head!” he swerved his truck a little, going to town on the horn. “What the hell, Jake?” I scratched the sleep out of my eyes. “Sorry dude, the road’s filled with jackasses today,” Jake turned and looked at me, adopting the same annoying singsong voice he used to tease me with back when we were younger. “And good morning Zachy, hope you enjoyed your little nap while I had to drive here in silence.” “Screw you, man.” I yawned and stretched upright in my seat, trying to get my bearings. How long had I slept? We seemed to be cruising at a decent pace down the highway. I took a few heavy breaths and my pulse finally started to slow down. I grabbed my phone out of the passenger door. 11:20pm. We probably still had a good hour or so before we arrived. “Look, I’m sorry,” I said as I opened up facebook out of habit. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.” Jake looked back at the road. “You gonna need to change soon?” “What? Come on Jake, are you seriously... no, I’m fine, okay?” I blushed, and turned to look out my window. “Sorry Zach,” Jake chuckled. “Just askin’. We still got a ways to go.” “Well, I’m good, so....” I didn’t even finish my thought as I buried my attention into my phone. Truth is, I didn’t know if I was dry or not. Look, it’s super embarrassing, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but to be totally honest... I’ve always had issues controlling, I guess you’d say, my bathroom habits. Like, it’s a thing. Has been my whole life. Forgetting a few random incidents over time, I pretty much stopped regularly pooping myself back when I was seven years old, and by the time I started 8th grade when I was thirteen, my daytime wetting mostly went away. However, no matter how much I cringe, or how many hours before bed I stop drinking, or what pill or nasal spray or alarm my parents gave me, I never quite outgrew wetting the bed. Just imagine that! Being nineteen, about to enter your Sophomore year at a big, prestigious university, top of your class, a solid group of friends... and you still piss your friggin' pants. I mean, who wants to be, let alone be friends with, a guy who has to wear diapers to bed, and on long trips, and sometimes even to long exams or movies, just to avoid staining their clothes and furniture? Even though it’s been almost two decades, I still find myself constantly shocked and disgusted with myself. Not really finding much of anything interesting on Facebook (no surprise there), I subtly crossed my legs and reached my hand down to feel my crotch. Charming, I know. I sighed and relaxed my shoulders. There was no denying it. I was wet. Not even that, I was soaked. I can tell you, wearing an adult diaper at all (especially these big overnight ones my parents got me) is thick no matter what, but a diaper full of pee is a whole other story. Rather than the tight, stiff padding I’d felt when I put this diaper on before the ride, my hand was now greeted with a super thick, mushy bulb of squishiness covering my groin. Instinctively, I lifted my butt and felt underneath. Still firm and flat... still dry down there. “You okay there, buddy?” I turned to see Jake staring at me feeling myself up. “It’s cool if you do need to change.” “Dude, drop it. I’m fine,” I pouted back at him. I hated that I still had this problem, but not as much as I absolutely loathed that anyone on this planet, especially my brother, knew about it. At least none of my college friends had found out yet. “Look Zach, I’m not bustin’ your balls or anything. It’s just when we’re living together this year, especially if I’m gonna have to drive you around and shit, I mean... there’s no use being weird about it, right? I already know, I don’t give a shit any more, and it’s gonna be pretty hard to hide, so... whatever you’re pissed about, just try to get over it.” Of course he had to use the word pissed. “I’ll last the rest of the way, okay? It’s cool.” I rolled my eyes and landed them back at my phone. I hated every second of this. “Whatever you say, man. Just let me know.” Jake turned on his blinker and merged to the left, and I swear I could see a slight grin on his face. I was happy to be getting out of the dorms and to start my Sophomore year, and while I was mostly pumped to share a small house with my Junior brother, I couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t make it easy on me. Chapter Two: Moving In By the time my brother pulled up into the driveway of our new house, I was desperate to get inside. Not only was I just ready to be away from him after his frank discussion about my... needs... I also seriously needed to run to the bathroom. It wasn’t long after Jake and I stopped talking that I could feel the urge to pee slowly creeping up on me. Even though I was already wearing protection, there was no way I was going to use it consciously, especially since I’d already wet it during my unexpected nap. After all, what was the point of denying I might need to change if I was just gonna end up leaking all over Jake’s leather seats? Before Jake had even fully come to a stop, I was already busting out of the truck and sprinting up the steps too our new house. Focused on the ever increasing pain from my bladder, I grabbed the handle of the front door and pressed my whole weight against it. Nothing. I was stopped dead in my tracks. “Slow down there, man, I still have the keys,” Jake laughed behind me. I whirled around and watched him slowly step onto the driveway, digging through a large envelope full of our move-in supplies. I don’t know why I assumed the house would be open. “Well hurry up Jake, jeez, “ I pleaded, gritting my teeth. “What’s your rush? Just use your diaper.” Was he serious right now? “Shut up, man!” “Well that’s what it’s for, right?” Walking up to me, he pulled a key out and handed it over. I immediately grabbed it and jammed it into the lock. “Well you don’t have to say it out loud.” I struggled for a second, before I finally got the key in and turned it open. “I’m just messing with you, Zach. No one’s even around.” “Whatever.” Even though we’d both toured this house just a few months earlier, it still took me a good moment to remember where the bathroom was. Feeling like my bladder was essentially the gate of Helm’s Deep just shy of bursting open by a torrential flood of Orcs, I rushed down the hallway near the kitchen and nearly threw myself at the toilet once I found it. Without hesitation I jerked open my jeans zipper and shoved down the top of my boxer briefs and diaper. Pee was already trickling out of my dick, but I didn’t have time to care care. I adjusted my aim the best I could and let it loose. Ohhhhh god, it felt so good. In a haze of euphoria, the stream slowed down to a stop. I opened my eyes for what felt like the first time and turned around, only to see Jake standing in the doorway. “Dude, what the hell?” I shouted as I tried to tuck my junk back in and hide the diaper with my shirt. “Enjoying the friggin' show?” Jake just laughed. “I still think it’s funny you won’t say fuck.” “Well fuck off, how about that?” He raised his eyebrows and laughed even harder. I even surprised myself with that one. “Well shit, look at you. Come help me unload when you’re ready.” With that, he left. I slammed the door shut (should’ve done that before) and, letting out a long, beleaguered breath, I checked the damage. The toilet seat was covered with a puddle of my yellow piss, and of course I’d managed to get more than a few spots on my pants in the process. Welp, at least I didn’t downright, full-on pee my pants. Hearing Jake throwing down some heavy boxes out in the living room, I ripped open the four tapes on my diaper and balled it up on the counter. Trying to hurry and get out of there, I froze and caught a quick glance of myself in the mirror. My stubble was coming in pretty dark, which I thought actually looked pretty good. I’d taken a risk over the summer chopping off my long high school locks and getting one of those cuts with the shaved sides with longer hair on top. I had been so used to my old shaggy style that I wasn’t sure how much I liked this new look... I’ve always been a bit lanky and goofy, and I guess I just didn’t have the confidence to sport what I thought was such a bold, adult haircut. I had to admit though, seeing myself there with my slicked back, dark brown hair, with a solid 4 o’clock (at most) shadow, I couldn’t help but think that I was a pretty darn good looking man. I buttoned up my now loose jeans and headed back out the door, feeling satisfied with myself. “Hey, come help me out with the bookcases.” My brother had already gotten four or five big boxes into the house, and had worked up a small sweat. Neither of us was particularly athletic, but dang if we couldn’t get hard work done when we put our minds to it. The next couple hours were mostly uneventful, just moving our crap into the house. We figured it would be best to just get everything in and sort it out into their respective rooms later. The less time struggling out in the hot summer sun, the better. After getting the bulk of the boxes and bins, we helped each other carry our beds and furniture into our rooms, and together we set up a nice little couch and coffee table left over from Jake’s old house. It was well past 3 in the afternoon when things started slowing down. I pried open one of our kitchen boxes and got out a cup to pour myself some water as Jake grabbed a pack of toilet paper and ran off to use the bathroom. I chugged down almost the entire glass when I realized my crotch was feeling a little damp. I glanced down only to see a sizable wet spot right in the middle of my jeans. Crap. Crap crap crap! I had been so focused on lugging heavy boxes back and forth that I hadn’t even noticed the urge to pee. How long had it been like that? Did my brother notice? Suddenly I heard Jake yell out my name. “What’s up?” I shouted back, trying hard to rub the wet spot dry with my hands. “You’re shitting me, right?” He called out again. I chugged down my second glass and I could hear Jake making his way down the hallway back out to the main room. The second he turned the corner, my heart sank. There he stood, holding my used diaper up like he was a hunter, showing off his latest kill. Chapter Three - New Start, Same Problems I stood there, acutely aware of the wet patch across the front of my pants, my brother gaping at me and holding up my old, soggy diaper. I didn’t know what to say. “Look, I know there was no trash can in there yet, but like... you could’ve at least taken this to the garbage out front, or something.” With his scrunched up nose and furrowed brow, he made no effort to show how disgusted he was. Or was he disappointed? Probably both. “And dude,” he continued, “You gotta clean off the toilet and flush! That shit you left for me was nasty.” “I’m sorry, Jake. I was in a rush and I guess I–“ “I’m not mad bro, but just like... be a fuckin adult, right?” He walked over and handed me the diaper of shame. “What do you want me to do with this?” As if I didn’t know. He laughed incredulously. “Go throw it out, dude. There’s some trash bags on the table.” I stood dumbfounded for a second, but knew he was right. Slapping my cup back on the kitchen counter, I walked over to the table and pulled out a bag. “And, uh,” Jake paused for a second as I shook open the trash bag and my old diaper plop down into it with a thud. “You might wanna grab some new pants there, huh buddy?” I could feel my cheeks turn crimson as I stepped out into the front yard and over to the garbage bins at the end of the driveway, doing my best to cover the front of my pants with the bagged up diaper. I don’t really like to talk about it, but these kinds of accidents had been happening more and more frequently ever since I started my freshman year. Even though I’d always had issues day and night, I had gotten through my Senior year at Oak Park Academy without any full blown accidents during the day, and I was only wetting the bed, like, three or so nights a week, which was a huge victory for me. I even stopped packing an extra pairs of shorts in my backpack for a good five months! However, college hit me hard I guess, and just seemed to screw everything up. After only a week into my first semester, I began waking up each morning to that familiar damp, musty feeling of a saturated diaper more and more often. Before I knew it, a month had gone by with no dry nights, and then a semester, and then a whole school year. I couldn’t even make it through naps without releasing a flood that rivaled Noah’s after a while! I really hoped that removing myself from the stress of school and returning home over the summer would reset my body, but it kept happening. Every. Friggin'. Night. Thankfully, this has been so regular my whole life that my parents and brother didn’t make any issue of it when I kept throwing out clearly soaked diapers every morning and after every lazy mid-day nap. God, I never thought I would use the word “thankful” and “diaper” in the same sentence, ever... but it was nice that they didn’t raise any fuss about it. What’s really been ticking me off, though, is that at some point during my very first semester at the University, I began finding my underwear various degrees of damp every time I hit the bathroom between classes. That’s nothing particularly new for me, but this was another level. It never made it’s way past my boxer briefs and into my pants (or at least I’ve been very good at convincing myself that it hadn’t), but it was enough that I spent more days than I care to admit with a wad of toilet paper stuffed up under my penis. I knew that was gross and kind of a roundabout solution, but I don’t know... it mostly worked, and was waaaaay better than having to pad up during the day and essentially admit my old, childish problem was coming back. Today was a different story, though. This was the first time in well over two years that I had an actual stain on my pants, and I wasn’t asleep, or sick, or drunk. I didn’t even know if it had all happened at once or just gradually. It was a total surprise. I tossed the bag into our garbage bin, and silently thanked God there was no one out in the street that afternoon. Walking back into the house, I saw Jake loading dishes into our kitchen cabinets. “Hey, I went ahead and put your suitcase in your room. Come help me when you’re done changing.” He was so nonchalant about everything, which I guess was chill, but it still made me want to sink down into the floorboards and disappear forever. I walked into my room, and this time remembered to shut and lock the door. I emptied my pockets and stripped my pants and boxer briefs off, standing there for a second staring at them. How could this have happened? The pants were fine, but these boxer briefs... dang. There was no hiding I had fully released my bladder at some point during the hard labor of the day. And I hadn’t even noticed. I threw my clothes down and sat on my unmade mattress, a bag with my plastic sheet and other bedding propped up next to me at the head of the bed. I grabbed my phone and saw I had a message. “Zaaaaaaaaaaach you moved in today, right? When’s the house warming party????” Seeing a text from Mason was just about the only thing that could have made me smile right then. We met in the same English Lit class and realized that we lived on the same floor in the same dorm. We hung out pretty much every day freshman year, studying for tests together, or grabbing lunch at the mess hall, or playing Mario Kart with his roommate and such. As far as I knew, he had no idea about any of my issues, which I was really thankful about. Of course, that didn’t mean that I wasn’t constantly stressed about trying to frantically keep it hidden, especially with the many surprise late night visits he made to my single room. Also, and I think this is what really made us get close, we were both gay. I’d pretty much always been in the closet. It’s not like my family would care or shun me or anything–I’m lucky that they’re pretty cool about that sort of thing–but I don’t know. I just never really felt comfortable accepting that part of myself and opening up to other people. One day, though, while sitting on his dorm room floor amongst what was probably three weeks worth of old laundry, he came out to me. His family knew, as I understood, as well as some of his high school friends, but I guess they were all just... weird about it. A sort of don’t ask, don’t tell situation. I had to build myself up a bit inside after he told me, but I knew I had to open up to him too. I couldn’t have asked for a better first coming out experience. We hugged and laughed and I kicked his butt at a few rounds of Super Smash Bros well into the rest of the night. And yes, I definitely, you know, liked him, and thought about him more than a normal person probably should, but I never dared make a move. We were solid friends, and there was no use messing with that. Right? Figuring I couldn't sit there pants-less in my room forever, I swiped the text open and responded, “Soon man, still gotta unpack and get settled in. I’ll hit you up later.” Throwing my phone on the mattress, I walked over to my suitcase. Most of my clothes were stuffed in a box out in the living room, but thinking ahead, my brother and I both made sure to load up a suitcase with some extra outfits and amenities in case we didn’t feel like doing ALL the unpacking today. I unzipped the bag, and even though I knew what to expect, I was still slightly disheartened to see not only my rolled up shirts and pants, but a hefty stack of diapers and wipes, almost laughing at me. I disregarded them and grabbed another pair of briefs and some khakis, then went back out to join my brother, who was now unloading books and video games onto a small shelf in the living room. “What took so long?” He asked, not even looking up from the box. “You didn’t do more to than just pee in those jeans, did you?” “What?” I immediately heated up, stunned that he would even think that. “Little Zachy didn’t make a little poopy in his pants, did he?” He was just enjoying this so much. “Shut up! What, are you nine years old?” He used to rib me a lot for still needing diapers growing up, but this was the first time he’s done it since we were both in college. “I don’t know bro, you’ve done it before, so I just wanted to make sure.” “Okay, well, for one thing, it’s none of your business. And I haven’t done that since, like, 7th grade, so... screw you.” “Dude, you know I’m joking. Come grab some books.” The rest of the day came and passed. We got pretty much the whole living room and kitchen unpacked, plus all our toiletries and towels and stuff put away in the bathroom. At around 7 we decided to call it a day, and Jake heated up this frozen pasta dish for both of us. Finally at the end of the night, I retreated back to my room and grabbed my laptop, dozing off quickly watching mindless youtube videos. Despite my nap earlier in the car, I was feeling super sleepy and decided to hit the hay. I slipped off my bottoms, proudly taking note that it was all still dry, and taped on a diaper from my suitcase. Within literal seconds, I was knocked out cold on my still unmade bed.
  6. Just before 25-year-old programmer and chess IM (International Master) Isabelle drowns, she is pulled to the Diaper Dimension by the UN's Dimensional Rescue Group. Things don't quite go her way, but she has a powerful ally... Your Move Foreword Welcome to Part 1 of my first story. A year ago today I started posting a chapter a week, and I stopped when I got to the end of Part 1 since my Junior year of university was starting, and I just didn't have the time to study and write on top of extracurriculars (I'm a good boy! I got a 3.9 GPA this year! ?). This summer I found some spare time to write a bit every day after work (internship), and I've produced 7 chapters so far. With the way the story has taken it's own life, I'm only about 1/3 of my way through the plot points that I've had planned out for Part 2! Unfortunately, I don't forsee being able to finish Part 2 this summer, because of the amount of things I get up to (including editing @BabySofia's Lights! Camera! ...What?!?), so you may be left on a cliffhanger (Sorry! ??), but at least you'll get to read a couple more chapters (over on the original thread): Without further ado, here's the edited, up-to-date version of Part 1. There may be some small plot changes from the original thread, but consider this the canon version. Part 1: Opening "Attackers may sometimes regret bad moves, but it is much worse to forever regret an opportunity you allowed to pass you by." — Garry Kasparov Chapter 1 — What the Hell I never expected it to be like this. Frankly, I didn't think I was even supposed to be in Hell. Even though I wasn't the most devout Christian, I certainly was one. So shouldn't I have gone to Heaven? Even if I take the secular interpretation, don't only bad guys end up here? I'm pretty sure I'd been a good girl — most of the time anyway. Of course, human nature made being perfect all the time rather impossible, and I'd certainly done my share of sinning. But... but... this?? I don't think that anything I'd ever done had made me deserve this. Did some angel mess up? Or was it a bug in some kind of software? Did angels even use software to make these decisions? Leaving the 'why' aside, shouldn't Hell be hotter and more fiery, and shouldn't Satan be a guy? I pinched myself just to confirm I wasn't dreaming, and looked around the dilapidated, dirty room for the third time since I'd opened my eyes a minute ago. The twenty-by-thirty-foot space was dimly lit by a small window stained almost opaque by dust and grime. The looming figure of the Devil, about twice my height, was clunking away in front of a stove, puffs of smoke rhythmically emanating from her mouth as she dragged on a cigarette. I wretched again at the malodorous pile of dirty dishes, pots and pans that sat unwashed in the sink next to her, and the overflowing trash can beside it that contained a large mound of unidentifiable ooze whose composition I could only guess at. A lonely mattress, straight from a prison cell the way it was stained, filled the opposite corner of the room. All the furnishings, clearly sized for her, appeared intimidatingly large to me. What was most disturbing was a pile of reeking garbage bags that filled the last corner of the room. Topped with a pair of flies buzzing around angrily, its base spilled out to within inches of the mattress. My disgusting panorama was interrupted by a noxious wave of cigarette smoke reaching me. It made my head spin. I choked and coughed, nauseous and unable to breath. When the air had somewhat cleared a moment later, I drew a deep breath. All I inhaled was the putrid stench of the space. Though it wasn't exactly hot, the room was bordering on that, and the air was unpleasantly humid and warm. A trickle of sweat meandered down my face. Whatever I was wearing was definitely much thicker than necessary. Wait... I looked down at the lavender footed sleeper I was dressed in. This was NOT what I'd put on the morning I died. It was frayed but soft, and the cute design adorning the front had long faded. Somehow, whoever had redressed me for this place knew that I liked purple. I'd actually owned a similar outfit before I died, but mine had been less... cute? The similarity stopped right there as I noticed the straps that connected the butt of the sleeper, just below the end of the long zipper, to the heels of the feet. They didn't seem to serve any purpose besides preventing me from getting up onto my feet. Odder yet, my undergarments felt utterly foreign to me. I was flat-chested enough that I rarely wore a bra, so it didn't surprise me that I wasn't wearing one, but the pillow hugging my loins stuck out to me just as much as it spread my thighs apart. I poked experimentally at the thick padding, confirming that it was some sort of ultra-thick diaper — a word that still made me blush as it stirred memories of my bedwetting fiascos as a child. Thanks to the heat caused by the pillow of a diaper, my nether regions were even warmer than my other body parts, but this discomfort was nothing compared to the screaming alarm bells that my bladder was sending to my brain. Get to a toilet, now! In desperation, I cleared my dry throat and spoke for the first time since I'd died, "I eed oo you a waoom." My brain bugged at the disconnect as I heard my own words, blatantly incoherent. My hands quickly found the gag in my mouth. How on earth did I not notice this thing? I tried pulling it out and retrying my plea, and it suddenly expanded with a loud POP! My jaw felt like it was on fire as I cried out in pain! Satan swung around and I glimpsed her face for the first time. Her washed-out green eyes were partially covered by strands of her matted, unkempt, dirty blonde hair. She looked like she was about fifty-five, and the wrinkles on her face scrunched up into a frown so ugly that I shuddered. "Quiet, Christa!" She scolded in a crackling voice, turning back to whatever she was brewing. Who's Christa? I scanned the room once again quickly. There was definitely no one else here. Is Christa what they call Christians here? Does it mean— My bladder once again interrupted my thoughts with its tingling, and I tried to squeeze my legs together and press a hand between them to prolong peeing myself. The thickness of the diaper rendered both efforts futile, so I started frantically looking around for a toilet. I saw a weathered but imposingly tall door. A curtain on the opposing wall of the same giant size. The paint on the door had peeled and the curtain's designs had washed out years ago. Realizing that I had no other options since I couldn't even stand up, I whimpered as the floodgates opened and I wet myself. The Devil clearly didn't notice what had transpired, but I almost broke into tears as I pawed at the warm wetness between my legs, spreading its tendrils into the thirsty padding. I hadn't felt anything like this in years, and my memories of waking up in a cold, wet diaper as a little girl came flooding back. The pain in my jaw had dulled somewhat, but it still ached, and I rubbed it, choking back tears. In an attempt to distract myself from my distressing situation, I recalled the last moments of my life... "Mom, dad, are you guys ready to go?" I called out as I set the burglar alarm and locked the front door on my phone. "Yeah hon!" My dad shouted back from the car. I jogged over to the driver's seat, climbed in, and started the car. I put on some nice classical music, and started driving to the annual regional chess tournament. I was on-track to secure my third GM norm, which would promote me from an International Master to a Grandmaster, a title I'd spent the better half of my life trying to secure. 'GM Isabelle Green' would look perfect on my website, I noted to myself. As I drove down a winding road that hugged a rock face, I marvelled at the lake on the other side of the road. Its crystal-clear waters perfectly reflected the blue summer sky, on which a family of ducks were making a wide V-shaped wake. When I rounded a bend in the road, a large semi truck suddenly bore down on me from the opposite direction! The driver must have been either drunk or crazy, because it was driving dead-center on the two-lane road! I heard my mom shriek as I swerved quickly to the right, narrowly avoiding a deadly head-on collision. Just as I thought the incident was over, a front wheel cleared the narrow gravel shoulder and the steering wheel was wrenched from my grasp! The three of us joined into a collective scream, as the crystal-clear water loomed closer and closer. It was almost like everything was in slow motion, like I was watching an action movie. It must have been only a second or two from my driving off the edge to the impact of the water, but it felt like hours! People say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, but my mind was totally blank as the car slid silently below the depths. The slight thud as the car hit the bottom of the lake jolted me to my senses, and I quickly looked behind me to check on my parents. They appeared to have either fainted or been knocked unconscious by the collision with the surface of the water. I undid my seatbelt, twisted around, and struggled to free them as well. Once I got their arms free from the seatbelt, I pulled out the headrest of my seat and used the pointed end to smash open my side window, knowing that the doors wouldn't open yet due to the pressure difference. Unfortunately, I wasn't prepared for the ice-cold water that gushed through the window in torrents, smacking me in the face and freezing me into a stupor. Surrounded by a frenzy of air bubbles, I let out a cry, muffled by the water pouring into my lungs, and I began to drown! *** "Pull her now!" Dr. Torelli yelled, determination and a hint of desperation evident in her voice. Not wasting a millisecond more, I hit F6 to run the extraction script and watched as the localized portal leveraged quantum entanglement to swap the girl with a proportionate amount of fluid in the transfer tank. The process had been perfected by the legendary Dr. Bremer's protégé, Wilhelm Münch. After undergoing field trials by private-sector organizations like the Procurement Agency for Childlike Littles, it was now being used by the Dimensional Rescue Group of the United Nations' Interdimensional Commission to give people from the other dimension a life after their sudden deaths. Every second that I'd had to watch the livestream of the accident was pure torture, delivered in submillimeter-pixel holographic gory from the ceiling-mounted volumetric display projector. The holographic feed, stitched together in real-time by AI, showed the girl's vitals directly on her translucent body. The data and imagery were being captured by nanobots in the other dimension using a mix of lidar, x-ray, and millimeter-wave imaging, since we were working underwater. Cameras recording in the visible wavelengths at that depth would be blurry at best. We had a strict protocol to follow, so I was forced to wait until Dr. Torelli, the team's physician, affirmed that the girl couldn't possibly survive without some sort of miracle (that we'd pull off) before executing the extraction. I breathed a sigh of relief as the tank's indicators showed that she was still alive. This was definitely not the team's first extraction. As soon as the transfer subroutine finished executing and flashed the transfer tank green, the medics breached the tank's seal. In unison and with calm and skillful preparedness, they lifted the girl onto the waiting operating table. "DNA verification successful. Subject is twenty-five-year-old Isabelle Green, caucasian, height five-four, weight one-nineteen, pulse forty. Symptoms are water inhalation and cold shock." The extraction room's AI helpfully listed. I heard a hiss as one of the medics nasally delivered the nanites that would be used to clear the Little girl's lungs of fluid via an oxygen mask. Another medic quickly diapered her, not wanting a shock from the nanites to cause any more of a mess. I loaded a standard electrolysis program I had written for the nanites, wirelessly uploading it to them. "Clear! Activating!" When the holographic vitals floating above the operating table improved, everyone in the room visibly relaxed. I knew that nanites had yet again saved a life, electrolyzing the water in Isabelle's lungs into harmless oxygen and hydrogen gas. They had first formed a thin film around her alveoli, the parts of her lungs that oxygenated her blood, and then started the electrolysis process from there so that she could breathe. I shuddered as I remembered that the other dimension still stuck tubes into the lungs, often causing irreversible damage to the trachea and bronchi. Another swarm of nanites spread throughout her bloodstream, exothermically warming up her body to prevent hypothermia and treat the cold shock she'd experienced from the icy lake. "Good work people! Let's send her to recovery." I congratulated the team as I let go of Isabelle's hand, which had gone from cold and clammy to a comfortable room temperature in the span of just 10 minutes. They'd all done their jobs well, a quick glance at Isabelle's now strong and stable vitals confirmed. Inwardly, I regretted not being able to save her parents as well, but we had limited staffing, time and resources, so we couldn't save everyone. We always prioritized the young and healthy. And the girls. I shuddered at that last one. As a Canadian Dimensional Rescue Lead, I was proud of how well Littles were treated and how equal their rights were up here in Canada, at least when compared to our bigotted southern neighbors. Little weren't granted anywhere close to equal rights in countries like the United States of Acimera. Since the headquarters of UNIC were in the US and the majority of its directors were Acimeran, I knew just why the Little-owning Bigs down south had set those criteria in our guidelines. They were more adoptable. I looked over at Isabelle being wheeled out of the room. She was very cute. Very adoptable. "Thanks Mike, you know you're the best." Dr. Torelli patted my back. I nodded. I'd basically written the book on extractions. As one of the first DRLs, I'd helped set up the program and personally programmed a lot of the tech around me as a result. When you design the system, well, you tend to know everything inside out. And be the best. "You're not so bad yourself, Doc." The rest of the team followed the medics out of the room, and I was about to go with them, but something stopped me in my tracks. I... couldn't help but feel a pang of... emotion. For Isabelle. What was it? Pity? Guilt? Love? Whatever this is, it isn't something I've felt before. I sat down at my workstation again. "Where's her destination?" I asked the room's AI on a whim. "Ollirama, Jacinto". I shuddered again. That was down in the deep south, one of the worst places that a Little could end up in. I made a note to check up on her situation in a few days, and got up to join the others in the break room. Chapter 2 — Predator and Prey Satan walked over to me. Towering over me and looking down, she introduced herself. "You will call me Mommy, if and when I let you speak. You're in my house. You're nothing but a doll to me. I don't care what you want and you don't need ANYTHING. I own you, and you will do everything I say. Nod if you understand me." "HNNNN!" I shook my head violently. "CHRISTA! What did I just say? I said you will do EVERYTHING I say. And I mean EVERYTHING. I also said nod. So NOD!!!" Confusion in my eyes, I tilted my head at the reappearance of that name. Christa. "YOUR NAME IS CHRISTA," she explained menacingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "Goddammit you Littles are so STUPID! NOD. YOUR. HEAD. Or you'll regret it!" She threatened. I sat there, bewildered. My name was Isabelle. Not Christa. Where did she— With a cry of pure fury, she yanked me into the air by my wrists and began spanking the daylights out of me! I shook in fear and pain. Even though the diaper somewhat softened the blows, her massive hand made my bones feel like they were about to crack! "YOU." smack. "WILL." smack. "DO." smack. A swat punctuated every word. I started to cry, sobs muffled by the gag in my mouth. Pacifier, I realized. "EVERYTHING." smack. "I." smack. "TELL." smack. "YOU." smack. "TO!!!" smack smack smack smack smack smack smack. By the time she was done, I was a snivelling wreck, blubbering and nodding vigorously. Anything to get it to stop. Please! She unzipped the back of my sleeper, reached down into my wet diaper, and pushed something up my rear exit! "Let that be your first lesson. Now here's another one. This is what you are." She grabbed my face in her free hand and cruelly twisted it around, forcing me to look at the pile of garbage as she zipped my sleeper back up again. "GARBAGE. What are you?" She twisted the pacifier, deflating it. Not fully, just to its state before I pulled on it. It was still uncomfortable, but at least it wasn't agonizing. I sniffled, too scared to speak. "I asked you a QUESTION, little girl! What are you?! ANSWER ME!!!" "Guhage?" I whimpered around the pacifier. "That's right. Garbage." She dragged me over to the garbage can by the sink, lifted out the overflowing bag of garbage, and dumped me in the bin! I watched in horror as she slammed the lid closed on top of me, trapping me in the pitch-black plastic prison. Ears ringing and eyes completely blind, I panicked. To make matters worse, a rumble in my bowels confirmed that the worst was yet to come. I desperately pushed both hands against my rear exit to prevent the monster in my guts from escaping, but something told me that I wouldn't be able to stop it for long. I squirmed against the rigid side wall of the bin, trying to find a more comfortable position. It felt like at least an hour, but I probably only lasted at most five minutes before I gave in to the unrelenting pressure. I gasped as warm mush oozed out into the waiting padding, forming a large mass in the seat of the diaper that pressed against my skin. I felt the need to pee again, and, given that all hope was lost, just let loose. I'd been flung beyond the point of self-preservation. I felt the diaper expanding to soak up my stream of pee, surprised at the amount that it could hold without leaking. I shifted my weight, grimacing as the mess slid around in the seat of the diaper and some of it seeped toward the front. Disgusting. My knees hurt so much from kneeling on the hard plastic grid that formed the base of the garbage can that I had no choice but to awkwardly sit down. I shuddered as I squished the mass in the process. This was unbearably awful. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I sniffed reflexively, and immediately regretted the act. The stench of the mess I'd made had stunk up the confined space, and my mouth was blocked by the pacifier! This isn't Hell, is it?? I'm some cruel person's captive, in some kind of messed up torture chamber or something. How am I even alive? Didn't I drown after driving into the lake? Where were my parents? Were they able to escape? Is that why I'm being treated so scornfully? I had a million questions. The darkness and isolation gave me time to think, yet the unforgiving stench prevented coherent thought. I rubbed my jaw, glad that at least the pain from earlier was subsiding. The mass between my legs was cooling, and my skin was starting to itch and burn at the same time. I frustratedly thumped a fist against the side of the bin, which only served to make my ears start ringing again. Real smart, Izzy. Real smart. After what must have been an eternity, the lid was finally opened, and I blinked at the sudden burst of light as I was lifted out of the garbage can by the scruff of my sleeper. I hastily drew in a deep breath of fresh air, not knowing just how much I would be getting. The room definitely wasn't a rose garden, but it was still a million times better than the horrific reek of my used diaper! "Looks like the garbage left a pwesent for Mommy!" The woman exclaimed in a patronizing tone, squishing the crotch of the diaper and patting my butt. "Since you were a bad girl earlier you're not getting a change just yet. You need to get used to sitting in your poopy diapers!" "Hnnn!!" I whined. "Do you want to go back in the bin for another hour?" She threatened, shooting menacing daggers at me. I desperately shook my head, eyes widening in fear. "I thought so." She proceeded to unceremoniously deposit me on the floor with another quick grope of the diaper. Eager to get as far away from the garbage can as possible, but still prevented from getting up by the straps on my sleeper, I crawled desperately across the room toward the mattress. Before I could climb onto it, I heard a yell from the woman. "NO! Bad girl!" I jolted and let out a stream of pee in shock, resaturating the drying sludge in my diaper. "The bed is for Mommy only! You should be thankful I let you sleep on the floor, and not in the garbage can so I don't have to smell you!" I just about threw up at even the thought of going back into that hellhole. She shoved a quart-sized baby bottle of water into my hands before twisting and removing the pacifier in my mouth. "Drink up!" Since I was getting dehydrated and my mouth was dry, I started sucking thirstily at the tepid liquid, ignoring the infantile drinkware for the moment. She stared at me as I drank, and I saw a smile so ugly I wanted to bleach my eyes when I finished the bottle. *** Three days after I rescued Isabelle, it was just after lunch on Saturday and I was working on a side project. "Remember to check on Isabelle Green," Max, my AI assistant, helpfully reminded me of the note I'd made. Furrowing my brow, I took a moment to recollect the feelings I'd had for Isabelle. I'd finally managed to put a phrase to it. Fatherly love. This was the exact same BS that the Acimerans used to enslave Littles, but it was real for me. It'd better be. "Right. Go secure and bring up everything you can find on her on Workspace 3." I couldn't risk making a mistake and having anyone track what I was about to do back to me, so I got Max to 'go secure', which meant encrypting all my internet traffic with lattice-based encryption instead of ECC, and bouncing it off 5 different random servers around the world using Tor. Both ECC and RSA had been cracked years ago with the first Shor-capable quantum computers, but people were still using them. The one issue shared by all technological advancements was that they made people more and more oblivious to shortcomings in the everyday tech they take for granted. I watched the holograms around me morph from the new nanite routine I was working on to a bevy of video feeds, a terminal, and some additional data about Isabelle that Max had collected using the backdoors and privileged access to UNIC and other systems that I'd accrued over the years. Max had spotlighted a hologram of a dilapidated shack, with two figures inside labelled "Karen" and "Isabelle". "This is her current location, eh?" I asked, reading the coordinates floating above the model. "Precisely. Karen is the adoptive mother. Records indicate that her older sister, Kate, should have adopted Isabelle instead, but her untimely death the day before your rescue triggered an automatic transfer of custody," Max explained. "Interesting. Bring up Kate's data on Workspace 4 in the background. Split 3 and 4," I commanded with a twitch of my right ring finger and a wave of my arms, sweeping the existing holograms into a 180° field of view so Kate's data would have room to be displayed behind me. I stood up to get a better view, and the holograms rose with me. I spotlighted a different vidfeed, enlarging and repositioning it to the center of my field of view. Sitting on the floor in front of a mound of garbage was unquestionably Isabelle... in a heavily soiled diaper. The dark crescents on her footed sleeper were a definite telltale that she had leaked through her padding. Her blonde hair was matted with dirt and debris. Her baby-blue eyes, crusted with dried-out tears, stared blankly at something just below the camera. A trickle of drool ran down her chin from a corner of her pacified mouth. She looked... gone. I gagged at the state of her conditions. I'm getting her out of there. No human being should ever live like that. Certainly no one ever will on my watch. "Cross reference her symptoms on the medware with those of hypnosis." "Everything except the crusty eyes match. That and her cheeks are excessively flustered, and the optical intradermal scan is reading excessive heat levels there." He helpfully offered. "She's probably been crying, I know I would be if I was in her situation," I guessed. "That explains her crusty eyes, eh? The flustered cheeks... maybe some sort of hypnosis side effect? I'm no doctor though." I sat back down and spun around to face Workspace 4. From the data I could see so far, Karen was dirt poor and had a mean streak. Kate, on the other hand, was well-off, kind and gentle. She'd successfully adopted two Littles before and even sent one to college, something so rare it was almost unheard of! No wonder UNIC had preapproved her for adoptions. Unfortunately for Isabelle, Kate had been killed in a car accident. How ironic. "Report this to Jacinto LPS. Send them her details and the supporting evidence, but make sure you wipe the metadata, sources, and any other fingerprints first," I directed. Hopefully she'll be okay. With luck, maybe even the hypnosis could be dealt with. "LPS systems acknowledge receipt of your complaint. They can only deal with it some time next week though, they've got a backlog of requests," Max reported. "What?! Probably fake complaints from jealous Bigs." LPS was a major scam, but even the few times that it actually worked made it worth keeping around. Still, the system was very much flawed. I spotlighted the terminal window. "Gimme their API endpoint," I told Max. "You're not gonna hack into LPS are you?" Max asked. "You know messing with that stuff is a federal offense, right?" "So was every bit of info you've pulled for me today," I smirked. "Copy it." I pasted in the endpoint and ran some commands. When I saw the nmap summary, I knew I'd struck gold. RRH, or Reverse Routing Header, had several zero-day vulnerabilities in it that I could easily chain with some other exploits to hack into the LPS API. Exposing that port was a rookie mistake, but apparently LPS was too focused on other things to care about security. A few minutes of Python scripting later, I had what I was looking for. I quickly logged into the admin interface and flagged Isabelle's case as ultra-high priority. That got the wait time down to 0... business days?! Isabelle would have to stay with that horrible bitch until Monday. Oh the poor girl. I decided there and then that I'd help her all the way. I tagged a specific orphanage on her file, checked over everything, and logged out of the LPS system. "Clear workspaces 3 and 4. Wipe the evidence," I instructed Max. Hang in there, Isabelle. I'm gonna save you. =========================================================== Bonus content — a funny video about suppositories and anal temp: Chapter 3 — Change of Scenery About an hour after downing the bottle of water, I was picked up by the witch and placed on her lap. I was fed dinner from there, which quickly proved to be another traumatic experience as the jarred sludge she spooned me was so disgusting that I gagged and almost choked several times. I could think of some people who wouldn’t mind eating sardine-and-spam, but I certainly wasn’t one of them. The ordeal was exacerbated by the airplane noises she made, and the only result of her waving the spoon around like I was two was my face and the front of my sleeper being desecrated by all the food that missed my mouth. Shortly after, she ate her own dinner and washed up. Having been fed what was equivalent to pig slop to me, the delicious bowl of instant noodles she had the privilege to enjoy was pure torment for me to watch and smell. When the sky outside the small window turned dark, she sprawled out on the tattered mattress. “Good night doll, don’t get bitten by the roaches!” I shivered in trepidation. From the state of the place, that wasn’t exactly this dimension’s version of “Don’t let the bed bugs bite” that they just told kids here. My dirtied face and diaper felt like prime targets, especially since the latter was now massively swollen from multiple additional wettings. I did my best to clean off my face with the sleeve of my sleeper, but I couldn’t do anything about my diaper. I groaned about that as I felt my butt complaining about the combination of the spanking I’d received earlier and the mess coating my butt. I definitely had a diaper rash from the prolonged confinement in the soiled garment, which was sure to get worse by tomorrow. I can’t believe this is happening. I had the habit of always saying a nightly prayer, so I decided that there’d be no harm in praying here, especially given my current situation. Dear God, I know I haven’t been perfect, but I don’t know what I did to deserve this hellhole. Why am I here? Where even is here? I know that you love me and that you know what you’re doing, so I won’t complain… But please, please save me from this degrading place and this sadistic woman. And please, someday, let me have another game of chess and a life beyond someone’s doll. I know you gave me this gift for a reason. Please don’t let me waste it. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me all my life. In Jesus’s name I pray, Amen. I started to cry again, frustrated at how bad my situation had turned out. In the end, I drifted off on the hard floor, curled up into a ball as best I could. The next morning I rubbed my eyes as I sat up, my body hurting all over. I’d slept surprisingly well given the circumstances, but I figured it was mainly because of how tired I was. I looked down at my diaper, which — I could tell from the dark spots on both sides of my sleeper’s crotch — had definitely leaked. I suddenly realized that I’d been unconsciously sucking on the pacifier that was still in my mouth. It was strangely comforting, but I made myself stop. I’m not a baby. I tried spitting it out, but the bulb was too inflated, and I didn’t dare tamper with it any further. I definitely didn’t want to risk the painful inflation from yesterday repeating itself. The woman was already up, and sitting on her bed reading some sort of instruction manual from a paper-thin tablet. Just then, she looked up and caught me staring at her. “Morning doll! You’re gunna make me some money today!” She exclaimed. I frowned apprehensively at that, not quite sure what to expect. Whatever it was, it can’t be good for me. She deflated my pacifier with a twist, took it out, and handed me a large baby bottle of water. After I thirstily guzzled it, she reinserted the pacifier and inflated it with another twist. She then unboxed and set up a futuristic-looking semi-transparent screen on a stand about a meter in front of me. After pausing briefly to look at the manual again, she powered the device on and it beeped three times in rapid succession. A really bright light from the screen flashed, dazzling my eyes. A split second later, I saw some swirling colors on the tablet-like device, and a calming voice telling me something about using my diapers like a good girl. The next thing I knew, my mind went totally blank! When I emerged from a complete stupor, she was turning off the screen, and I was pushing last night’s mush into the back of my already full diaper! I frantically tried to stop it, but it seemed like my sphincter and related muscles were locked in the ‘open’ position. Not only did trying to clamp down hurt A LOT, I couldn’t dam the flow no matter what I did! “Good girl, using your diaper like you’re meant to!” The bitch cooed. “I think I might just change you earlier than I planned to, just so I won’t have as hard of a time washing your sleeper!” After making me sit in my mess for another half hour, she finally removed my sleeper and laid me down, buck-naked except for the diaper. She manhandled me as easily as one would a toddler, lifting both my legs with one hand just like I’d done when I’d babysat years ago. The relief of having the soiled and sodden diaper taken off me overcame any modesty I had, so I didn’t bother to try and cover anything up. She used the front of the diaper, which wasn’t much cleaner than the back, to wipe the worst of the mess off my butt. I was then dragged outside for the first time. As I walked, I could feel bits of runny poop that weren’t wiped off sliding down my legs. I need a shower to not feel disgusting at this point. Once my eyes had adjusted for the bright sunlight that starkly contrasted the dim room I’d gotten used to, I took in the vast landscape around me. Dense, yellowed, prairie grassland stretched unbroken in every direction for as far as I could see. Singular, stubby trees and small shrubs dotted the landscape here and there, and some cattle roamed in the distance. Besides that herd, this place looks like it’s devoid of humanity! I yelped from behind the pacifier as a jet of lukewarm water blasted my butt. The woman blasted my butt thoroughly, then moved on to my back and legs, as if I was a farm animal. When she spun me around to face her, I appreciated for the first time just how tall the shack she lived in was. A monster-truck-sized pickup truck was parked beside it, and both were at least twice the height of what they were supposed to be. I wonder how she got all this stuff in her size… When the woman finished hosing me down, she dried me off with a towel. I tried to protest that I could dry and dress myself to stop the uncomfortably intimate touching. She either didn’t understand me with the pacifier in the way or just didn’t care, so I gave up and stood there as she dressed me. My new outfit consisted of a puke-green sundress. Perhaps it was once a more pleasant color, but its current appearance just reminded me of vomit. I was just starting to feel self-conscious about not wearing any underwear underneath the dress, something I never did, when she dragged me back into the shack and laid me on the floor. She put some cream on my butt, which soothed the discomfort from my rash, followed by another massive diaper. Why are these diapers so huge?? As if ironically reading my mind, she jeered, “You’re only getting one change a day, at least for now. I’m not spending a single cent more on you than I have to!” Her voice boomed out in a pure cackle, in a manner only possible if she were a witch. This woman is deranged. Get me outta here! As a few more days passed, I lost track of time. The boredom was really getting to me, since there was nothing for me to do except sit around most of the time. I found myself sucking on the pacifier that was locked in my mouth more often than not, if not just for something to do. I also mentally studied some chess positions, but there’s only so much you can do in your head. My diapers were almost constantly filled with my bodily waste, and the bitch kept her word, changing me just once a day. I was grateful that at least she used the cream during each change, so my diaper rash hadn’t worsened. I began noticing that I had less and less control over my bladder and bowel functions each day, to the point where I now had very little warning before I went. I was truly using my diapers for their intended purposes, thanks to the hypnosis videos that the woman forced me to watch for God knew how long each morning. The second time that she’d turned on the screen, I’d tried to close my eyes and turn away, but she’d pinned my arms to my sides and kept my face pointed at the screen with her massive hands, preventing me from looking anywhere else. The bright flash had somehow worked even with my eyes closed, so I’d been utterly helpless. By the time she’d let go of me, the video had already turned me into a passive zombie, staring at the screen in a blissful stupor. One morning, I woke up to the door of the shack being flung open! “LPS! Hands on your head!” A gigantic officer, a full head taller than the bitch, screamed at her. Pistol trained on her, she swooped in swiftly, like an eagle hunting its prey. What was going on? Who were these other giants?? There were other giants here??? Another officer, slightly shorter than the first but still impossibly tall, grabbed me off the floor. I instinctively tensed up, unused to being picked up and held so far off the ground. “Dave to dispatch, Little secured, DNA scan verifies she is Isabelle Green,” he spoke calmly into an earpiece. “Karen Elizabeth Kemp, you are under arrest for child abuse under Section 1709 of Title 44 of the US Code. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. If you understand me, nod,” the female officer Mirandized. “You can’t ar—”, the witch started to say something. “NOD!!! YOU UNDERSTOOD WHAT I SAID PERFECTLY!!” The officer screamed at her, “HOW DARE YOU ABUSE SUCH A SWEET LITTLE GIRL LIKE THAT?!” I couldn’t help but grin at the irony of the turn of events, and I silently thanked God for answering my nightly prayers. “Are you mentally intact?” The officer holding me — Dave — asked. I nodded. “Mothly, I think?” I lisped around the pacifier. “Good, we’ll need to interview you when we get to the station. In the meantime, your diaper is leaking! We need to get you changed first.” He rummaged around the storage area behind the curtain for a spare diaper, and emerged triumphantly holding one. The female officer found a pack of wipes from their truck outside, and handed them to Dave, who laid me down, and untaped my soiled diaper. I blushed as he wiped me down, not used to a strange new pair of hands dancing all over my crotch area. I was also quite apprehensive, with his being a man and all. Thankfully, he was very professional apart from a little cooing, which turned into a grimace when he saw the rash on my butt. His colleague got some sort of ointment and spread it over the entire red area, explaining that it would quickly heal my rash, provided I wasn’t kept in messy diapers for extended periods of time again. Dave then taped the fresh diaper on me and found a clean dress for me to wear. The officers brought us out to waiting vehicles, and I blushed as Dave sat me in a toddler’s car seat and strapped me in. “It’s for your own safety, and it’s the law.” I nodded, still confused as to where exactly this place was. There were laws here…? During our drive to the police station, the witch screamed profanities at the officers until they grew tired of it. At that point, the biggest pacifier I’d ever seen was locked into her mouth. I giggled at the further irony and her discomfort. She deserved ten times worse. When we arrived at the LPS office, Dave released me from the car seat and picked me up again, holding me close to his chest. I’d played with the buckle a bit, but hadn’t been able to get it open. That made sense, given that the giants were clearly much stronger than my puny self. I gawped at the size of everything as we walked inside. More giants were bustling about, and it soon dawned on me that everyone in this place was a giant. I was carried over to a room full of medical equipment, and Karen was led away separately. Good riddance, bitch. Dave set me down on a scale, and a nurse weighed and measured me. I’d apparently shrunk quite a bit when I died, and I stood at a measly 5’4 compared to the 5’10 listed on my Drivers’ License. I’d also gotten just a bit lighter, coming in at 119 pounds. Or maybe they measured length differently in this place? I tensed as I was picked up again, still unused to being lifted into the air. Once I saw that it was Dave, I relaxed quite a bit. He’d been gentle enough so far, and I could see no reason for that to change. We walked down several hallways and up a flight of stairs, and I was glad that I was being carried for once. The stairs were massive! Finally, we reached a room with “Interview - Little” on the door that was more regular-sized. Large stuffed animals, toys, and cushions covered the small room’s floor in huge piles. Some of the bigger stuffed animals were almost twice my size! I didn’t see a particular spot to sit down anywhere, so when Dave set me down on the ground standing up, I plopped down on the lap of a massive stuffed bear and made myself comfortable. I was stroking its paw and looking around the room more when a smaller, Asian giant walked in and sat down on a bean bag chair. She was still about 3 feet taller than me, but at least she didn’t look like she could eat me for dessert! But that perception changed, and I recoiled, when I saw that she was holding a transparent tablet similar to the one that had been used to hypnotize me! Chapter 4 — Truth Can Hurt “Hi Isabelle, I’m Linda. We’re arranging a safe place for you to live. I promise it’ll be a million times better than Miss Kemp’s place!” She saw my eyes darting to her tablet, and I could tell she sensed my fear. She reassured me, “Don’t worry sweetie, this is just a regular tablet that I carry around. It won’t do anything to you, I promise!” I relaxed by a miniscule amount, not quite ready to trust her just yet. “I’m going to ask you a few quick questions, which will hopefully help us put her in jail for a long time. Are you ready to be a good little helper and answer some questions?” I pointed nervously at the pacifier in my mouth that had been my companion for the past few days. She smiled and quickly deflated and removed it, biting her lower lip as she did so. I ran my tongue over my teeth, happy to have the restricting pacifier out of my mouth. “You looked so cute sucking on it, it’s a shame that we have to take it out. I’ll give it right back to you as soon as we’re done, but we do need to hear your testimony.” She cooed. “Do you know what that big word means? Test-i-mon-y?” I bit my own lip to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her. Instead, I answered with a more civilized but curt, “Yes.” “My goodness, you’re not just a cute face! Now, if you could tell me eeeverything that happened while you were under Miss Kemp’s care for the record, it would help our case significantly. Whenever you’re ready.” I sighed, disinclined to go over everything again in my mind. “Umm don’t you need to start recording or something?” I hadn’t seen her do anything like that yet. “Oh my, what a big girl! The room’s wired up for sound, sweetie, everything you say will be recorded.” Over the course of the next hour, I told her, to the best of my ability, everything that had transpired in the past few days in graphic detail. When I finished giving my statement, Linda sighed and commented, “That sounds terrible, I’m sorry you went through that sweetie.” I nodded in agreement. “Though you can rest assured that we’ll put her away for a long time. I’ve got plenty of evidence now. It’s all very strong. The physical stuff we found at the scene along with some video footage an anonymous tipper sent us fully corroborates your testimony.” She said almost to herself. “Do you want anything before we transfer you? A baba maybe?” I scowled at her suggestion. Did she think I was retarded or something? “Something to drink and an explanation of what this place is and how I got here when I died, please? And why I’m dressed and being treated like I’m two?” “Sure thing honeybun. Here’s some apple juice for you; drink up while I explain everything to you,” Linda said as she brought me a giant sippy cup of it from a fridge sunk into a wall. I gave her a pointed look for her term of endearment, but started drinking. I was thirsty enough to not care about the drinkware, having had nothing all morning. The sippyness of the cup still begged the question of why I was being treated like a toddler though, and I stared at Linda expectantly. “Let’s start with your first question. The reason you didn’t die was because the United Nations beamed you here just before you were going to,” she explained. “We didn’t want you to die at such a young age, so when you were helplessly drowning to a certain death they used some very advanced technology to bring you here. Miss Kemp was then supposed to take care of you, but she didn’t do that very well, now did she? We got an anonymous tip and now you’re here.” “Where is here?” “Here is the Jacinto headquarters of the Little Protective Services. We investigate when Littles like you are abused, and save you.” “No, no. I meant what is this world? This…” Dimension. No. How could that have been possible? “A dimension quite similar to yours, but with some differences too,” she confirmed. “Have you heard of the portals and dimensions?” I gasped and peed in fright. I’d assumed that I wasn’t in the other dimension — well, this one — before since I hadn’t seen any other people, and I didn’t think they’d be able to instantly create a localized portal at the bottom of a lake. Just how advanced was their technology? “The dark-web rumors are true then? The tabloids weren’t making it up??” I’d heard a whole bunch of rumors about what netizens called the Diaper Dimension, where regular-sized adults were treated as babies by giant Amazons. Their tech was supposedly more than a decade ahead of ours, and their history remarkably similar yet with subtle changes. For instance, their United States were those of Acirema, instead of America. “What rumors?” Linda retorted with a rather blatant mock innocence. I brushed past her question. “Please just send me home,” I pleaded. “I’ve cooperated with you to the best of my ability, haven’t I?” “You have, but I can’t do that.” She asserted matter-of-factly. “Why not?” I whined, getting nervous again. “Why can’t I go home?” “Because you’re a Little in a big world. You’re going somewhere where you’ll be taken care of properly instead.” She condescended. My anger flared up. “What?! How can you let people be treated like this?!” I couldn’t reign in my rage anymore. She tilted her head at me and tsk-tsked. “How is this not a human rights viol—?!” She sighed and popped the pacifier back into my mouth, twisting it a half-turn before I could spit it out. It inflated painfully and I screamed! “Huck ooo!!!” Seeing nothing but red, I threw the now-empty sippy cup and a nearby stuffed animal — a red panda — at her and pounded my fists on the bear I was sitting on in frustration. Tears began to stream down my face as I heard the door to the room open and felt myself getting picked up from behind again. I didn’t know who it was and I didn’t care. I just wanted this stupid nightmare to end. My only response was a deep moan of despair. This was the worst day ever. I was carried over to another room and set down in a highchair. Straps were tightened over my waist, head and legs. The tray was fitted over my arms, rendering me completely immobile. I had burnt up all my energy in my outburst, so I sat motionlessly as my pacifier was removed, too tired to care. Having eaten nothing but gruel at Karen’s place, I was thankful for the more normal continental breakfast that I was fed. Even when it was mutilated and spooned to me. Even when I rolled my eyes at the silly airplane and train noises and gestures. My brain will turn into freaking mush if this is kept up. Halfway through breakfast, I turned red as I grunted and pooped with less than two seconds of warning. I wonder if I’ll ever regain control? Thankfully, the feeding stopped to let me finish. “You won’t leak just yet, but I’ll change you as soon as we finish brunch!” I heard after the crotch of my diaper was squeezed by a large hand. When I finished the last bite of hash brown, the straps were undone and I was picked up. I was praised for being a “good girl” through breakfast and carried, eyes and nose red, over to a nearby changing table. I was laid down on it with a strap pulled across my stomach, securing me to the table. A strangely calming nursery rhyme that I’d never heard of was sung to me while my soiled diaper was removed and thrown out. And I was wiped down. And a new diaper was taped on me. Then I was “all clean”, tickled, made to giggle involuntarily, and given a different pacifier to suck on. There was something different about this pacifier, yet I couldn’t put my finger on it. I figured it out a moment later. It didn’t have a locking mechanism. I sucked on it, having grown fond of the comforting motion. Maybe it’ll calm me down. A short walk later, I was set down in a mesh-walled enclosure with a firm foam padding for the base. A playpen. Seriously? I looked around in a full circle and spotted the giant bear I was sitting on earlier directly behind me. I walked over and collapsed onto its lap. So soft. So comfy. So... sleepy… I decided that there was nothing to lose after everything that happened. I passed out cuddling the big bear’s paw. I woke up to the sound of a car door shutting. I yawned, rubbed my eyes with my fists, and blinked, then jolted when I realized I wasn’t where I fell asleep. Instead, I was back in the car seat that brought me to the police station earlier. Dave was driving, and there was no one else in the car. Since he’d been rather nice compared to the other giants, and I’d lost the pacifier, I asked him where we were going. “To an orphanage ‘bout a 10-mile drive away. It’s not the usual one we take our charges to, there was a note on your file. You’ll still be safe, lass. And I’m sorry that Karen was a terrible person.” “Why an orphanage? Can’t you just take me home?” I begged. “I’m sorry lass, I can’t do that without losing my job and probably getting charged with neglect too. Even if I could, there’s no way they’re letting you go back. You’ve got no documentation proving you were from there, and they don’t just let random Littles through the portals.” He looked at me empathetically through the rear-view mirror. “What about through a localized portal like the one that brought me here?” “As far as I know that’s a one-way thing. I remember something about there being no transfer tank in your dimension, or something along those lines. The exact details are beyond my understanding.” I desperately wanted him to be lying, but the psych minor I’d done in university told me he probably wasn’t. There was simply no gain for him in doing it, and he didn’t seem like a sadist either. I sighed. I spent the remainder of the drive staring out the window at the prairie landscape on either side of the highway. Occasionally we passed digital billboards that displayed all sorts of strange brands I’d never heard of before. One of them, Melon Corp, was advertising its latest laptop as we drove past it in a blur. I was startled by the sound of a woman whispering in my ear. “One century since we made our first computer, we now offer the MelOne. One exaflop of raw power. One exabyte of PCIE-7 storage. One hundred terabytes of RAM. Preorder online or at any Melon Corp certified retailer.” My mouth fell open in shock. This was insane! We had just worked out how to mass-produce nanosheet technology after years of setbacks. The amount of processing power they had on just one chip was incredible! Wait a minute, how did they deliver that ad? Dave saw my agape mouth and explained, “The voice you heard was from the billboard. It’s a new micrometer-wave technique for subcranial audio injection called inSAIn. Congress is having a tough time with it, because nobody knows what the long-term effects are and the ethics of it are muddied by the trillions that the corporations involved put in. Most billboards at least have a legal age setting on, so Little and child brains don’t just get scrambled by the ads, but I guess that one didn’t.” Soon, we took an exit off the highway. A short local drive later, we pulled into the parking lot of an orphanage with a big sign advertising its name, “Little Hearts”. I watched as Dave got out and spoke with the receptionist inside. A minute later, he returned and looked at me oddly when he reached over to unbuckle my seat straps and found them undone. I’d finally figured out how to undo the buckle over the long drive. It was a complicated depress-twist-slide sequence that required the use of both of my hands. The mechanism had clearly been designed with great effort to be ‘Little’-proof. Dave picked me up, closed the car door, and carried me over to the reception. When he bent down to set me down, I held on tightly to him and whined, not wanting to leave the nicest person I’d seen in this dimension so far for an orphanage. He sighed and picked me up again, bouncing me lightly once. I yelped softly at the momentary weightlessness. He brought me to his eye level and coaxed calmly. “Look lass, you’ve gotta go. There’s nothing I could’ve done for you and there’s nothing I can do for you now. Believe me, if there was something I could’ve done I’d’ve done it a long time ago. The only thing I can offer you is some advice: do your best to act as babyish as you can. It will one hundred percent make your life more tolerable.” I nodded. That wasn’t surprising, given the amount of weirdness in this dimension. He kissed my forehead gently, before passing me over to the receptionist, who brought me inside immediately. I was just starting to feel sad about Dave leaving, when the receptionist — her badge said Claire — carried me over to an alcove beside a strange glass enclosure. There, she removed the sleeper I’d gone to sleep in last night, and opened a panel on the contraption. She had me climb in and stand barefooted and gently placed my hands flush against opposite glass walls of the contraption. Ordering me to stay still, she closed the panel again. A second later, I was blinded by a familiar flash of bright white light from all four glass panels, and I peed myself instinctively! Chapter 5 — Life Is Like a Game of Chess The swirling colors that I dreaded but fully expected never came. Instead, Claire removed me from the device after glancing at something on her semi-transparent monitor. As she ruffled my hair and smiled at me, I saw the piercingly-high definition 3D-scan of my body that she had open on her screen. Enlarged images of my hand- and foot-prints and my irises floated in front of the main model. So that was what the bright light was. An iris scan. “Oh dear, you’re about to leak! Let’s get you changed.” She gingerly carried me naked but for my sagging diaper over to a changing table in the adjacent room, not bothering with my sleeper. She removed the wet diaper, wiped me down, and taped a fresh one on me. It was bright pink and adorned with white unicorns, and I frowned at how silly it made me look. Pink is NOT my color. Seeing my long face, she tickled me, causing me to smile and giggle involuntarily. Before I could regain my composure, she had me sitting up with my legs dangling over the edge of the changing table. A bright summer dress was pulled over my head, turning my vision into a sea of pastel yellow for a moment. When my head popped out the top, Claire swept my hair back with a matching yellow hairband, which came topped with a baby-blue bow. She stood me on the ground, gave me a pacifier that matched my outfit’s color scheme, and led me over to an adjacent mirror. When I saw her, I gasped at how cute the innocent, foreign toddler staring back at me looked. I hated being relegated to a toddler, but I was starting to not mind the adorable clothes so much. If only the stupid unicorn diaper didn’t peak out from under my dress. I tugged the hem down with both hands, but it rode back up the second I did anything other than stand perfectly still. “Well aren’t you cute!” She asked, beaming at my reflection. I couldn’t help but smile and nod. She led me to the main room of the orphanage, which was almost three-quarters the size of a soccer field, and patted my butt, motioning for me to join the other fifty or so people running around boisterously. There was a mix of teenage and adult Littles alongside Amazon toddlers. I didn’t want to just start running laps, but I didn’t exactly want to sit around in the middle of the room where I could get trampled over either. Just as I was trying to decide on what to do, an Amazon toddler bumped into me. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, but he was a good head taller than me, and stockier too! Without any warning, I found myself bent over his knee!! “Bad baby watch where goin!” He yelled at me, spit flying everywhere as he fervently rained down smacks. Even with a diaper on to cushion the blows, the rascal put unbelievable power into the spanking, and my butt soon felt like it was on fire! I was starting to break into tears when a nanny came over and pulled a kicking and screaming me off him. “James, we don’t hit people.” She chided him, steadying me on my feet. The toddler nodded and ran back to join whatever game he was playing before the ordeal. I could hardly believe it! I was about to protest the fact that the scoundrel had gotten off without even an apology, but the nanny, having given me the cursoriest of examinations, was already walking away. I didn’t want to put on any more of a show for the dozen pairs of eyes now on me, so I just sniffled, straightened out my dress, and sulked away. So this was the social hierarchy here. Littles at the bottom of the ladder. No, not even on it really. I spotted a group of Littles lying prone on the ground in a far corner of the massive room. Some of them had feet swinging in the air, and they all looked pretty intently focused on whatever was in front of them. I trudged my way along the edges of the room to see what they were up to. Halfway there, I stopped to pee and rub my sore behind. When I got closer, I saw their hands dancing over the pages of newspaper-sized coloring books. Giant crayons in fists, they definitely looked focused on what they were doing, but it seemed like none of them were staying within the lines. I was confused about this for a moment, before I remembered Dave’s advice and understood what was at play. Act babyish. Well, the spanking delivered by a toddler certainly helped to that end! I sat down beside them and yelped as my butt touched the carpet. Flipping over onto my stomach, I gingerly rubbed my rear end. The little rascal’s blows had really hurt! A Little that looked like he was in his thirties gave me a sympathetic look and put a spare coloring book and a red crayon in front of me. “Best to stay away from the Big children,” he warned. I nodded and smiled weakly, before turning my attention to the items in front of me. The oversized crayon reminded me of a giant Crayola I’d once seen a GM comically using at a tournament to record moves on his score sheet. At that time, I never thought I’d see another one being used, much less use one myself to color. Oh how things have changed. I shook my head at the absurdity of my situation and absent-mindedly flipped through the ten pages of the booklet. Each side had an outline of a different marine animal to color. I copied the others and randomly scribbled on the first page, essentially ignoring the printed black lines that outlined a seahorse. Halfway through the page, I sensed a pair of eyes boring into my back. “Nice to see a smart new face,” a young man about my age, dressed in a playsuit just as colorful as my dress, acknowledged quietly. “Isabelle, but everyone calls me Izzy.” I held out my hand and he grasped it in a quick but firm handshake. “Mark. Don’t look around and don’t stop coloring, or you’ll provoke one of the nannies into investigating,” he warned. I nodded and got back to it. “Why do you say I’m smart? I literally just got spanked by a toddler.” “I saw. That was just bad luck, not stupidity. I can tell you’re smart because you know to only make abstract art. So, what brought you here?” I looked at him for a moment to gauge just how much I should say before answering. “Well… you probably won’t believe this, but I was driving down a mountain road when a semi came head-on at me. I swerved and drove off a cliff into a lake. The UN sisterly beamed me to this dimension, because next thing I know I’m stuck as some woman’s doll. Good thing some agency called LPS put a stop to that, and now I’m here.” “So you’re a humanitarian portal Little.” “Uhh… sure? You could call it that. What about yourself?” “Parents got adopted and my job didn’t pay enough… I ended up not being able to afford rent, and I got picked up and delivered here the day after my eviction,” he recounted sadly. “Your parents were adopted?” He gave me an ‘Are you a Martian?’ look and explained, “I think Littles might be safer up north, but ’round these parts a Big can just grab you off the street and adopt you. It’s like kidnapping, except it’s legal and you can’t do squat about it.” “Yikes. I’m sorry about your parents.” I thought back to mine. They were probably still at the bottom of the lake. Burial at sea. “At least they’re not dead though,” I added half-jokingly. “Aye, but they might just wish they were,” he mused. “You any good at chess? I ask every new arrival, but so far nobody knows how to play. Not exactly the most popular game among Littles.” “Ooh I play quite often. It’s really popular back in my dimension.” “Shall we have a game then?” “Sure, you have a chess set around here?” I asked, looking around. Mark laughed. “No. Have you ever played blindfold chess?” “Sometimes. I did a sans-voir simul once when I was in college, for charity. I’m assuming you use the same terminology as we do?” “Guess we’ll find out. You can go first.” I nodded. “E4.” “E5,” he countered. “Knight F3.” “Knight to C6.” “Bishop B5.” “The Segura,” Mark remarked. “The what?” I’d never heard of that word. “The name of this opening. We call it the Segura, after the 16th-century Spanish priest?” “Ohh, we call it the Ruy Lopez. And I have no idea who Lopez was. Might be the same guy?” “Might be,” he echoed. “Knight F6.” “Berlin defense. What’s your name for it?” I asked, starting a mental dictionary. “Um, we don’t have one.” He stopped coloring for a moment to look at me. “You don’t have names for variations of openings? We have whole wiki pages on these!” I felt the briefest of urges before I wet my diaper. “Nope. It’s never been that popular of a game, so naturally it’s not studied as much as more mainstream games like Go.” “Wow. Bishop takes on c6.” “b takes c6.” “d4.” “c5.” “You blundered.” I smirked as I ‘finished’ the seahorse and started murdering the dolphin on the next page. “How?” Mark asked quizzically. “d takes e5.” “Knight takes e4.” “Queen d5.” “You weren’t kidding! You’ve gotta be one of the best players I’ve ever faced, and I’ve played thousands of games. You’re incredible!” He looked at me in awe. “Knight takes on f2, which piece are you gonna take?” “Knight g5. Both. Or you can give up your queen.” I smirked. “My… God. I resign. You’re too good.” “Good game!” I smiled. “I’ll give you rook odds if you wanna play another?” “Sure, although something tells me you’ll still beat me. What’s your rating? I’ve won against players rated over two thousand!” “My elo is twenty-five oh one. I was supposed to get my third and final GM norm.” “You’re a Master? Daaamn.” Mark quickly bit his lip and looked around nervously, and only relaxed when he confirmed his slip-up went unnoticed. We played another two games, both of which I won easily, even with rook odds. Mark then called it a day, claiming he was tired of thinking, although I suspected that he was actually tired of losing. I was starting to feel physical exhaustion creep in though, so I didn’t object. As an afterthought, I wanted to confirm something with Mark. “This dimension also has twenty-four hours in a day, right?” He gave me the ‘Martian?’ look again. “There’s thirty-two hours in a day here. Were there only twenty-four in your dimension?” “Yeah, no wonder I’m feeling so tired. What about the other units? You have sixty minutes in an hour?” “Yep.” “Sixty seconds in a minute?” “Yep.” “A thousand milliseconds in a second?” He laughed. “I dunno. Probably? You also have seven days in a week and fifty-two weeks in a year, right?” I nodded as a nanny came over and handed out bottles of juice from a tray. I thanked her politely when I got mine. No need to make enemies with the only ‘adults’ here. After another hour or so of coloring, the nannies began herding all the Littles into the adjacent dining hall. It turned out that this place was both an orphanage and a daycare, and almost all the Amazon kids had been picked up by then. On my way into the dining hall, a nanny grabbed me for a diaper check, making me blush. Probably never getting used to that. Seeing that it was wet, she grabbed me and changed it, and several others received the same service. I sat across from Mark on a picnic table sized for us for dinner. The meal consisted of some mashed potatoes, peas and jumbo chicken nuggets shaped like little animals, all served on a plastic plate. The potatoes were bland and the nuggets were soggy, but the food still tasted ten times better than the goop Karen fed me. The peas in this dimension were the size of small hazelnuts! Luckily for me, I loved peas, so I devoured everything on my plate. Unfortunately for her, the Little beside me seemed to have lost her appetite, and she pushed her peas around on her plate without eating anything. A nanny quickly spotted her dawdling, and honed in like a falcon on its prey. She yanked the Little out of her seat, flipped her dress up, and started spanking the living daylights out of her! After about thirty smacks, the sobbing girl was taken to a highchair nearby and straps were pulled across her forehead, chest, waist and legs, rendering her totally immobile. Her wails were silenced by a nanny feeding her a jar of what looked like the peas she was playing with, mashed up. I felt so bad for the poor girl, but it wasn’t like I could do anything for her. I looked at Mark, who wore the same grim expression on his face as I did. After dinner, everyone took turns being showered by the nannies, an experience that turned my face into a tomato again. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to other people seeing me naked. We were soon dressed in footed pajamas and thick nighttime diapers for bed. Giant cribs were unfolded in the main room by the nannies, who then laid mattresses on top of them. I was tucked in with a kiss and a bottle of milk, which I took a tentative suck at. It tasted like a vanilla milkshake, and was definitely the best-tasting drink I’d ever had! The soft mattress that cushioned me was a fluffy cloud compared to the unyielding floor that I had slept on in the days before. I said a quick prayer of gratitude, and soon after, thanks to the strange milk and the comfy mattress, I was out like a light! As a bevy of thirty-two-hour days passed by, I settled into a routine that consisted, for the most part, of eating, sleeping, playing, and avoiding the Amazon toddlers. It felt like I was thrown back into a second childhood, and I was somewhat grateful for the opportunity for a bit of R&R. My busy life juggling my chess and programming careers didn’t give me much time to just waste away, something I was essentially forced to do here each day. Mark had gradually introduced me to the other Littles who had been coloring when I’d arrived, and they seemed like a nice bunch. Other than the boredom and lack of freedom to go places, I was pretty happy, since I had food, friends, and a bed — well, crib. Even though I was babied all the time, I wasn’t being abused. I might have even secretly liked that a bit, not that I would admit it! All things considered, the orphanage was a million times better than Karen’s shack. My mental chess games with Mark were icing on the cake, and I gradually taught him some more advanced chess theory while we colored each day. He was a fast learner, and improved quickly. I was still able to consistently beat him though. One time, as I checkmated him after a windmill attack, he looked at me and tilted his head. “You know, life is a lot like a game of chess,” he mused. “You plan things, but they don’t go your way. You get pulled into a series of forced moves, and there’s nothing you can do but to go along with it until you get a chance to counterattack or you lose.” “Yeah, that sounds about right. Maybe one day I’ll get a chance to counterattack and change the system. Win the game.” I longed. “You know what Izzy? I hope you do. You’re smart, talented, and kind. There’s nobody better to change the world.” Every night, I prayed for another shot at living an actual life. You gave me so many talents for a reason. Please don’t let me waste away, God. Give me a chance. =========================================================== Bonus content — Izzy vs Mark chess game: https://lichess.org/study/YfxwmWUR Giant Crayola: https://shop.crayola.com/color-and-draw/giant-crayola-crayon-choose-your-color-52MEGA.html Chapter 6 — Extraction My prayers were finally answered around two weeks after I’d arrived at the orphanage. A loud bang came from the reception area, prompting the four nannies on duty to investigate. The Amazon kids didn’t seem to care though, and they continued running around. Most of the Littles didn’t notice either, with the exception of the few of us coloring. Suddenly, a vent cover in the wall beside me swung open and a Little dressed head-to-toe in a futuristic-looking black combat suit emerged from the ventilation shaft. A spool mechanism built into the suit attached to a black wire, which was pulled taut and disappeared into the shadows above. He scanned the room for a moment before spotting me and glancing down at a screen wrapped halfway around his forearm. “Isabelle Green?” I looked up from my prone coloring position and answered, “Hi?” He scanned my irises with a device in the wrist of his suit, which beeped and flashed green. “I’m going to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” he told me in a quiet but assertive voice while looking directly at me. “If you want, I can get you out of here. The staff won’t be affected by my distraction for too long, so you have thirty seconds to decide.” I inhaled sharply at the suddenness of his proposal. “Who are you? Why me out of everyone here?” “Don’t have the time to explain. Twenty seconds.” I looked at my friends for support. They were all nodding for me to go, even as several eyes sparkled with envy. “Your move, Izzy,” Mark said determinedly. “I think you should go. Go win the game. You can’t do that from here.” I nodded and gave him a quick hug goodbye. “I’ll miss you. And I’ll do everything I can to get you out too.” I stepped back and looked at everyone, “All of you.” I wiped a tear from my eye and exchanged hurried farewells with the few people that I could consider friends in this dimension. I felt guilt and sadness for leaving them, yet a rekindled hope about my future surged in my chest. I raised my hand to the group in a solemn salute, before nodding to my rescuer and stepping into the shaft. He shut the vent cover, and I watched through its slits as the others went back to coloring. I trusted them enough to be certain that no one would give us away. Maybe the nannies wouldn’t even notice that I was gone. There were almost sixty residents, and I’d done my best to keep to the shadows after the trauma I’d witnessed my first night there. “Get a good grip on me. It’s a long way up and you do not want to fall. I’d put a harness on you but we’ve got to move.” I nodded and clung tightly to him. He pressed a button on his harness and we rose into the ventilation system. On my way up, I couldn’t help but think back to my question. Why me? Was there someone looking out for me? *** “Clear workspaces 3 and 4. Wipe the evidence,” I instructed Max. It was the Saturday after I’d rescued Isabelle, and I’d just arranged for her to be sent to Little Hearts, one of the safest orphanages for Littles in Jacinto. In less than two seconds, all traces of my tampering with the LPS systems had been erased. “Shall I turn off secure mode?” Max asked helpfully. It’d taken me more than a month to customize Max from the latest open-source homeAI release. I’d written almost a hundred thousand lines of code and config files — with the help of an AI programmer — to do it, and the end result was spectacular. After testing everything, I hosted it on my own servers in my basement. It was much more sentient and intelligent than the open-source version, and it was perfectly tuned to my liking and needs. I’d named it Max, after the protagonist’s AI in Ready Player One, a novel from the other dimension that I had read in my teenage years. “Not yet. She’s safe, but not free. I want to set her free.” “What are you gonna do?” Max asked, confused. I’d never programmed complicated feelings like freedom into him. I didn’t think he’d need it. He knew what freedom was, of course, but he couldn’t feel it like he could the more basic emotions: happiness, sadness, fear. Someday I need to add more abstract feelings. Then I can file a massive pull-request to the homeAI project. I thought about the actions I planned on taking next. Is it worth all this risk, just for one Little? There’s millions of them. If I were asked this question on a game show, or if there was no risk to me, then I would immediately answer affirmatively. Unfortunately, this was real life, not a hypothetical. Actions had consequences here. I thought about it for a few minutes and took a sip of my coffee. I waited until I was absolutely sure before finally deciding. Yes. It IS worth it. They’re human beings. They deserve love and respect. They’re people. They deserve to be free. Sure there were risks to me if I were to do this, but those were negligible compared to a lifetime of forced babyhood that Littles are subject to. Every single one of them is worth the risk. With Isabelle specifically, I hoped that what I planned on doing would make up for all the trauma she’d been through. I sighed and answered Max, “You know how we just hacked the Empire? Now we’re gonna hack the Alliance.” I’d seen a few Star Wars movies from the other dimension and used some of it to train Max’s neural model. He finally connected the dots. “Well, the Railroad should be a piece of cake compared to LPS, eh?” Good boy. “Once we find them, yes. The decentralization will be a nightmare to deal with though.” The Little Railroad was an underground movement that freed Littles across the continental United States. They worked in regional cells smuggling Littles north to Canada or east to the Little Islands, where Littles were safe from adoption and free to live their lives. The situation in Canada was much better than the US, with adoption being illegal and equal rights for people of all heights. There were still some Little-specific laws, mostly concerning driving and other activities that might be dangerous for anyone short, but they were all for safety reasons. However, the one thing that Littles did have to worry about was Little hunters from the US that prowled the cities near the border. Given that two-thirds of the Canadian population lived within a hundred kilometers of the US border, that meant that Littles were in real danger of being kidnapped and smuggled across the border. The Little Railroad couldn’t really prevent this from happening, but they did try to rescue as many Littles as they could out of the US. Since their operations were so decentralized, there was no head of the Railroad that I could target. I had to change tactics and perform a breadth-first search instead. I spun up a quick script to scrape Mastodon, the predominant metaverse and social media platform in the dimension, for a list of known code words associated with the Railroad. My script would then process the raw data to extract a variety of metrics such as frequency, variation, emotion, and context. After five minutes of big-data analysis, I had a list of accounts likely run by affiliates or members of the Railroad, sorted from most to least promising. Back in college, I’d started an all-purpose rootkit-injection program to use when I needed access to systems that I would have a hard time accessing through official channels. I updated it regularly over the years with new exploits and patch-workarounds, and it now supported every operating system with more than a few thousand users. Since most people just used thin clients nowadays anyway, my program also worked for gateways running older, but still supported, versions of the popular cloud providers. I ran this program against the machine used by each target on my list, achieving a 70% pwn rate. After looking through the data of the first fifty users, I’d found out enough about their networks to locate the contact info of several Railroad cells. I chose three cells to serve as entry, relay, and exit nodes that roughly formed a line connecting Ollirama to the US border with British Columbia, and set about masterminding the operation. Decentralized computer networks could be trusted, but human ones couldn’t, so I would do all the planning myself. I marked up a few possible border crossings based on Railroad and Border Patrol data, the latter of which I had access to thanks to sysadmin credentials I’d acquired on the dark web a few years ago for another project. Just those weren’t enough to bypass the multi-factor authentication they had in place, but I had a digital carte-blanche to bypass the latest OAUTH protocol. There would be no room for error, and my ample arsenal of cyberweapons would keep my precision high. I dug up some more information on the cells, and a plan soon materialized. The first leg of the journey would be handled by an extraction team, who would break Isabelle out of the orphanage. Earlier that afternoon, I’d made sure to mark Isabelle’s LPS file for Little Hearts, one that I knew that treated Littles better and was easy to escape from, specifically to help with this part. The extraction team would immediately drive her west to the border with the adjacent state, which would hopefully get her out of Jacinto and its jurisdiction to ease her escape before her disappearance was even noticed. At the border, Isabelle would be transferred to the next cell, which was run by a sympathetical Big businessman who owned a limo company and used his fleet to drive Littles across the continental U.S. to where they needed to be. Bigs involved in the Railroad were limited in numbers, but critical to the network’s success from the data I’d gathered, as they could get around much more easily and safely than Mids and Littles could. Once I finished planning out the details for the final stretch, I contacted all three cells with their instructions. I gave each only the information that they needed, in order to maximize the security of the whole operation and thus Isabelle’s safety. I made sure to send the first cell a copy of her bodyprint, which I’d hacked from the orphanage. Surprisingly, none of them asked me who I was or where I got their information from. Decentralized meant a lot of need-to-know, and these people were used to not needing to know, which made my job easier. In all honesty, I was touched by their selflessness. There definitely weren’t a lot of people willing to put their own freedom on the line to help others find a better life. I seriously respected those that did. *** We reached the top of the ventilation shaft in just a few seconds, and I clambered up and into the horizontal duct running along the rear wall of the orphanage. The shaft was spacious, but not tall enough to stand up in, and I could see light coming from the end of the tunnel. My rescuer put a finger to his lips, tugged on the black wire, and pointed with 2 fingers to a bright opening at one end of the duct. I understood that as ‘keep quiet and crawl toward the light’, and proceeded to comply with his instructions. As I did so, my skirt flared up and I flashed my diaper. I blushed a deep crimson and pulled it back down. Thankfully he appeared to be too busy with the screen on his forearm to notice. When I reached the opening, I could see that the outer grill had been swung up and somehow fixed to the outside wall. It provided an anchor point for the black wire, which hung out down to a waiting car. The combat-suited Little had followed closely behind me, and I grabbed onto him again as he rappelled down the brick rear wall of the building. When my feet touched the ground, he pushed another button on his harness. I heard a quiet whirring sound as all the wire was quickly winched up, leaving no trace of our escape apart from the open grill. Fortunately, it seemed that my rescuer had thought of everything. He twisted a dial on his screen, and the grill quietly swung shut. My jaw dropped open and my inner geek screamed, ‘That was so cool!’ “It’s rapid-biodegrading electronics. In a couple hours it’ll all turn into dust and get blown away by the wind. We’ll be long gone by then anyhow.” I nodded, still in awe and slight disbelief that I was actually free. Just then, I saw an Amazon get out of the driver’s seat, and my heart jumped. He opened the rear door and grabbed my rescuer! I turned and fled in a panic. My socked feet pounded against the asphalt and my heart pounded from adrenalin as I ran in a straight line away from the monster. I’m getting kidnapped, not freed. This isn’t tag where I become ‘it’ when I get caught. If I’m caught, who knows what will happen to me! I didn’t make it ten meters before I was seized by a strong hand. I yelped. He lifted me into the air. He spun me around to face him. I tried whacking him to break free, but he held me at arm’s-length, pinning my arms down. I kicked uselessly at thin air and screamed hysterically. He sighed and pushed an inflatable pacifier into my mouth before quickly twisting to inflate it. My cries were quickly muffled as my jaw lit on fire! All I could do was look at him in sheer terror, distress and desperation. Chapter 7 — Silver Spoon “I’m sorry I had to do that,” the Amazon holding me at arm’s-length apologized, “but you’ve got to stop screaming if you want a chance to get away from here.” What was this guy up to?? “Owww…” this overinflated bulb is really hurting my jaw. I winced and moaned, slightly confused and more than slightly terrified. He could see that I was hurting. “If I remove that, promise me you’ll keep your voice down.” I nodded and stopped struggling, eager to get it out. He brought me closer to his chest and shifted my weight to one arm. The pacifier was deflated with a twist and a hiss of air. I quickly rubbed my jaw in relief. These damn things were so painful! “Who are you and what do you want?” I asked, perplexed, exasperated, exhausted… My feelings were so numerous and complex I couldn’t even put them into words. I gave up all resistance for the time being. Might as well conserve my energy. He’s strong enough to overpower me no matter what I do anyway. “I’m here to save you and I want to get out of the state before the cops show up.” “Save me?” I spat. “And then kidnap me to Mexico to spew babies or test drugs for some cartel drug lord?” Shivers wracked me as I remembered the stories that one of the Littles had told me about her time in Mexico before she was rescued in a federal drug raid. “No, Isabelle. I’d never do that. I’m with the Railroad. And we’re going west, not south.” How did he know my name? The Railroad? They were working together? There were Amazons that weren’t totally baby-crazy? I guess it does make sense though… It’s not like Littles are allowed to drive around here. Another Little had told me about how he almost got to one of the Little Islands thanks to the Little Railroad. Unfortunately for him, his counterfeit passport didn’t quite pass muster and he was detained at the port. Poor lad. But if this guy was with the railroad, then… he was one of the good guys? “He’s telling you the truth.” The Little reappeared beside us. My brain screamed for him to run while he could, but he clearly had no intention to do so. I was almost convinced, but I needed more assurance. “Where did he get all that high-tech military gear and training?” I questioned the Big. “I can’t tell you that.” “I’m not going anywhere with you until you do.” “Look, if you come with us I’ll tell you myself. I trust him with my life, and you should too,” my rescuer interceded. With a sigh, I conceded and let the Amazon put both of us into car seats in the back of his sedan. He closed the door, got back in the driver’s seat, and drove out into the street. “You owe me an explanation?” I turned and asked the Little. “You should know that the less we know about each other, the better. Never tell anyone who you are, where you came from, or where you’re going, unless they already know.” When he saw me nod, he continued, “As to where I got my equipment and training: I was a Hellcat.” “What’s a Hellcat?” I asked as we turned onto a main road. He tutted. “Enough questions. It won’t do either of us any good if I tell you more.” An hour later, the Amazon driver pulled off the highway we’d been driving on. As he got out of the car, I quickly undid the seat buckle, just to get some more practice at the complex task. That earned a wide-eyed stare from the Little. When the door beside me opened and the Big reached in to undo the buckle, he too sported a puzzled expression. “How did you do that?” He asked. “The buckle?” “Yeah, I’ve never met a Little who could undo it.” I snapped the straps closed again. “Push, twist, slide?” I demonstrated. The ex-Hellcat tried to reenact my movements, but his fingers slipped when he tried the twisting motion. “Interesting, we just have to push harder than you Littles can. That’ll come in handy for you though. If you ever need to escape in a jiffy, these buckles are standard for every device intended to restrain Littles.” “Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?” “To pass you on to another cell in the network who will get you where you need to go.” I nodded. “Thanks for rescuing me,” I said to both of them, as a strange, elongated vehicle pulled up behind their car. “Cheers,” the Big patted my shoulder as he picked me up, “this is what we do for our fellow human beings. Freedom is a right.” I was carried over to the strange vehicle whose falcon-wing door was open. He set me down on the carpeted floor inside. “Good luck,” the Big said. “Thanks,” I nodded and waved as he tapped the doorframe twice, as if he was signalling the driver to get going. Right on cue, the door shut pneumatically. A moment later, the vehicle started moving. It sounded like a Tesla from back home. There was no engine noise, only the muffled crunch of the wheels on the gravel of the highway’s shoulder. When ceiling lights lit up the interior, I gasped at my futuristic and luxurious surroundings. The entire body of the limousine was made of some sort of high-tech glass. What I’d assumed were lights illuminating had actually been the glass-like material of the roof and upper half of the side walls becoming transparent. I’d seen electrochromic tech before on airliners, but seeing it in such a large contiguity blew my mind. Just then, I realized that there was nothing underneath the windshield, and I could see right out the front of the limo! It was driving itself autonomously! I watched for a while as it accelerated to highway speed and turned my attention back to the interior furnishings. One long, white couch-bed stretched against one side of the spacious cabin from front to back, and curved there to form a loveseat against the back wall. The opposite wall had a strange looking cabinet recessed into it, with a variety of amenities behind transparent panels made of what looked like the same material as the limo body. I cringed when I saw that whoever had stocked the cabinet had graciously provided a stack of diapers for me. Just as I was wondering whether the limo had a TV screen, the entire side wall lit up. Wow, the glass was a screen too?? The logo of an AI reminiscent of a home or phone assistant back home sprung into animation with a bounce and a twirl. “Welcome, Isabelle, to the Luxuria Experience, I’m Luxuria,” a voice that sounded perfectly human annunciated. The tone could only be described as… luxurious? “Umm… hi. How do you know who I am?” I responded, slightly startled. I could feel my diaper warming. “I have some basic information on you that I received when your journey was created. Speaking of which, I wasn’t able to detect your privacy settings, so I’d like to go over them with you, as mandated by the International Data Protection Laws. First, would you like me to collect anonymous analytics from our interactions to improve my intent-parsing quality?” “Uhh… no thanks?” “Okay, I won’t use any analytics. Would you like me to connect to the internet for neural recognition? I can also remain entirely offline if you’d prefer.” Damn, this dimension’s privacy laws were just as amazing as their tech. Years ahead of us. “Offline please?” “Excellent choice, my voice recognition software is still state-of-the-art.” “Finally, would you like to enable holographic mode? I’d recommend it for an improved experience.” I thought about it for a second before replying. Holograms are cool. And harmless. Why not? “Sure,” I nodded. The limo body turned opaque again, and a bank of ‘lights’, which were really white pixels on the ceiling screen, lit up overhead. I watched with childlike fascination as the animated logo materialized out of the wallscreen and morphed into a humanoid-like body with flexible tubular arms that didn’t resemble anything I could think of. I couldn’t see where the projectors were, but it looked much more solid than I expected! When the avatar reached out with a hand, I shook it without thinking. Only after the act did I realize that I had just… touched light? “How is your projection solid? Isn’t it a hologram made of light?” “It is. The wave-particle duality of light allows photons in holograms to maintain a solid state under certain high-energy configurations, since photons are their own antiparticles,” Luxuria explained. “Interesting.” I didn’t know a lot about particle physics, but from what I did know, it was theoretically sound. We’d just never achieved a high enough energy density to do something like this on a scale larger than a few photons to reach any empirical confirmation. “My sensors predict that you’ll leak in about two minutes. Would you like a change?” I gave my padding a squish and disappointedly confirmed it. “I can do it myself,” I insisted indignantly, not wanting a hologram to… change me. Luxuria nodded and grabbed a diaper, powder and some wipes for me. I proceeded to flip my skirt up, untape my diaper, and wipe myself down. Halfway through, I looked up to the hologram’s eyes staring at me. “Umm… can you not?” “Sorry, but you do know that my projection is just that, right? The actual sensors and cameras are built into the vehicle’s interior.” The avatar picked up my dirty diaper and wipes. “Yeah but still,” I whined, skipping the powder and taping on a new diaper. Absolutely no need to degrade myself more than I already have. My parents had once told me that I’d taped my own diapers on as a toddler. I had a vague memory of it, but it was far too long ago for me to actually remember how I did it back then. The only thing I remember along those lines is having to wear stupid pull-up diapers at night. Instead, I based my taping on how the nannies had done it for me. It took a couple seconds of readjusting, but I got it done and ran a finger around the waistband to inspect my handiwork. Not bad for the first time in two decades. It’s definitely nicer when someone else does it for me though… Luxuria turned back around as I stood up and cleaned my hands with an extra wipe. “You did okay. Try to tape it on tighter so it doesn’t fall off when you wet it. And you should use the powder, it stops chafing and keeps your skin dry.” Okay?! Did I just get roasted by a robot? No, an AI. Har har. I stared at Luxuria. My stomach growled, interrupting my sulky thoughts. I was used to having dinner at the orphanage at 7 pm every day, and it was just past that according to the holographic clock. “Would you like something to eat? It’s just about dinnertime,” the AI noted, seemingly having either read my mind or detected my hunger. The time showed on the screen that made up an interior side wall of the limo, and the avatar gestured toward the strange cabinet. “Fine,” I replied, “are we going to stop somewhere for food?” Luxuria laughed, “No need to stop. The AmeniTea here is state-of-the-art; it can cook up anything you’d like. Wouldn’t you rather get to your destination sooner?” AmeniTea? I was confused, but I jogged over and found some drinkware. It looked like I would have to go with a milk-jug-sized mug, or a sippy cup that was my size. I sighed in defeat and grabbed one of the latter. I’d been drinking out of baby bottles and sippy cups the past few weeks, but it had never been my choice. I managed to convince myself that I didn’t really have a choice here either. I brought it over to a drink dispenser situated just above the level of the top of my head. I didn’t see any buttons or labels, but there was clearly a faucet on it. Probably detecting my confusion, Luxuria helpfully offered, “It’s a smart appliance. What would you like to drink?” “What options are there?” “It can make any drink you want, so long as it’s non-alcoholic, as mandated by the government under section 1012E of title 441 of the Little Statutes. The machine has miniaturized pods for several thousand different beverages. It unshrinks and dispenses every drink you can think of, and then some.” “Can I have an apple juice please?” I loved the apple juice they had here. Much richer in flavor than back home. “Sure, what temperature would you like it at?” Luxuria asked. “Uhh… I dunno, 50 degrees?” “Fahrenheit?” “Yeah, isn’t 50 celsius like, hot?” I questioned. Luxuria shrugged. “There’s people that like their juice hot. Put your sippy cup under the faucet.” I swear this AI is out to humiliate me. She just HAD to say the full baby term. I sighed and reached up — tipping my toes slightly — to do as she instructed. The second my hand left the cup, the room was flooded with the delightful aroma of apples and the cup filled with juice. I picked up the plastic vessel again — carefully since it was full — and took a sip. It was delicious! The aroma certainly helped, and I practically guzzled the rest of the cup. Luxuria refilled it for me, and turned the top half of the limo transparent so I could enjoy the splendid nature view on either side of the highway as I drank. I watched as the sun set, directly ahead of us, into mountains that I could just barely make out in the distance. It was the first sunset I’d seen in this dimension, and I was stunned by its beauty. The sun was much bigger, yet of softer tones, than back home, and the vivid colors streaked across the sky like a masterful watercolor painting. The moment was made even sweeter by my impending freedom that I could almost taste. I took a deep breath to savor the tranquility of everything. I’d come a long way from the dirty floor of a shack in the middle of nowhere. No matter where life brings me from here, this moment will be one that I’ll cherish for years to come. Chapter 8 — Exodus In the 10 minutes it took for the sun to set and the sky to turn dark, I’d gradually emptied my sippy cup and bladder. In one end and out the other. I heard an audible rumble from my stomach announcing the return of my dinner cravings. “So there’s miniaturized food as well?” I asked the hologram floating beside me. “The ingredients are miniaturized, yes, but each dish is made fresh. What would you like?” “Something spicy,” I answered without hesitation. Orphanage food had been filling but way too bland for my liking. I remembered a delicious burger recipe that my grandfather had often made for me when I was little. It would definitely make a good challenge for the robot cook. I went for it anyway, just to see what the machine was capable of. “Make me a burger with the buns buttered and toasted. Melt a slice of cheddar cheese on top of a beef patty, then add a slice of tomato, two half-rashers of bacon side-by-side, two slices of pickle side-by-side, two concentric onion rings, breaded and fried, and Buffalo sauce, in that order from bottom to top. Make a side of thick-cut sweet potato fries, topped with melted cheese and chipotle sauce. For dessert I’ll have mango sago pudding.” I was on a wishing spree! Take that, machine. There’s NO WAY you can make that. “You’re certain you can eat that much? Have you had any food not made for Littles since you got here?” I thought about Luxuria’s question for a moment. “Uhh… No, not really…” I finally put two and two together. If everything here is massive, then the food would be too. “Right, the size of the food. In that case, make the burger smaller and I’ll just have, say, 3 fries.” That I should be able to finish. I didn’t like wasting food. “Oh, and size the pudding down accordingly?” Luxuria nodded. “Will that be everything?” “Yup, thanks.” I confirmed, still confident that a machine would never be able to make a meal that complicated. Around twenty seconds later, the smell of the patty cooking started wafting from a glass panel on the AmeniTea. A table flipped out automatically from the opposing side wall, at just about the right height for me to sit and eat at, perched Japanese-style on the bed. Less than five minutes after I’d ordered, the panel slid open and revealed my dinner on a large porcelain plate. The avatar brought it over to the table as the AmeniTea panel slid shut again. “Bon appetit!” Luxuria beamed. I thanked her and clambered onto the bed with a small jump. After saying grace, I grabbed the burger with both hands and took a bite. It was the most delectable food I’d had in weeks! My first bite brought back a flood of childhood memories. I hadn’t had this meal in ages! I picked up a fry the size of a hot dog and brought it to my mouth. The sweet potato was fried to a golden crisp, but the size meant it was just slightly too mushy for my taste. The cheese melted a second time in my mouth, and my taste buds exploded satisfyingly from the spice of the Buffalo sauce. I may have been dubious of the robot’s capabilities, but by the time I finished the dish, I was convinced that the only downsides to it were the slightly off taste of unshrunken ingredients and something missing that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. When my plate was empty, Luxuria swapped it for my pudding, which also made for the perfect dessert for this experience. The food had tasted almost as good as my description sounded, and definitely better than “unshrunk meal” could ever sound! I was stuffed, but satisfied. After dinner, Luxuria put the pudding goblet into the AmeniTea, and the table sunk back into the wall. I heard a hiss and a light patter as both were cleaned… along with slightly more muted hiss coming from my diaper! A feeling of warmth spread through it. I’d just gone without any warning. “Would you like to see a movie?” the avatar offered, returning to its floating position facing me. “Sure. Anything sci-fi you can recommend?” I wanted to see what this dimension’s science fiction entertainment looked like, given that the world around me was basically sci-fi already. “I’ve got just the film.” I snuggled up to a soft cushion on the bed and watched as the screens delimiting the cabin lit up with billions of pixels blending together, each of which must have been too small for my eyes to register. Together, they seamlessly formed a realistic background of stars in space at a resolution that took my breath away. While I was somewhat prepared for that, I was definitely not expecting the Star-Wars-style scrolling text that was holographically projected in front of me. I let out a giggle of delight, both at the quality of the visuals, and at the absurdity of the retro style photobombing an otherwise incredibly futuristic setting. The movie was reminiscent of Interstellar, with realistic depictions of relativity and physics. If only more writers would depict science and technology more accurately. The single thing I hated the most about movies and books was the unrealistic depictions of hacking scenes. Hooded man furiously typing with green hieroglyphics and ones and zeros… The movie’s plot centered on the last human family searching the Milky Way for a habitable world. They teleported around the galaxy by folding the fabric of spacetime in a futuristic spacecraft. I never saw the twist coming, which was when the AI that helped the humans and kept them safe the whole time was actually hiding the habitable planet from them. I laughed out loud when it turned out to be caused by a bug in its code. You’d imagine their static analysis would have caught that. I looked worriedly at the avatar floating beside me, but Luxuria just shrugged. “I’m nothing close to a true AI, if that’s what you’re concerned about. There’s laws prohibiting military-grade machine intelligence.” The movie soon ended with the AI sacrificing itself for humanity’s greater good and the human family getting to the habitable planet safely with human embryos to settle the new world. It was a rather Disney-like cliche ending, but I liked movies that way. It sucks when a main character fails or dies. That’s what happens in life already, why make a movie or write a book about it? When the credits started rolling across the floor, up the side wall, and then back across the ceiling, I yawned and got up to stretch out my legs. I’d certainly had a long day. From an orphanage to a self-driving limo speeding across the country. I shook my head. It felt like I was living in a fantasy. A quick diaper change later, I was back on the massive bed hugging the cushion. Before I snoozed off, I said a quick nightly prayer. Dear God, Thanks for everything you do for me. I don’t know where exactly I’m heading, both in this limo and in life, but I know it’s to a good place you’ve prepared. Thanks for showing me once again that you care about me and love me. And thanks for sending these good people my way. Please keep all my friends safe too, and help me make the right moves. In Jesus’s name I pray, Amen. The next morning, I woke up to daylight and soft music. I blushed furiously when I found my thumb in my mouth. Must have been another stupid effect of that hypnosis. I’d never experienced this at the orphanage before, probably because I’d always been given a bottle or a pacifier to sleep with. I wiped the saliva off my thumb and rubbed my eyes as I sat up. All the cabin screens around me had been turned off, resulting in the glass body of the car being almost transparent. The scenery and asphalt sped by outside in an unnaturally fast blur that made my head hurt. “Morning Isabelle. Did you sleep well?” Luxuria greeted me as the limo body turned opaque again. “Morning. Yeah, I did, thanks. Umm… how fast are we going?” I asked in suspicion. “One-ten.” “Miles per hour?” “Yeah. There isn’t much autonomous traffic, and there’s good visibility, so the lanespeed is slightly higher than normal.” “Lanespeed? There’s a dedicated lane for self-driving vehicles with a dynamic speed limit?” “Indeed. Every autonomous vehicle is hooked up to Mothership, the central control system, so we can safely go faster than human-driven cars,” Luxuria explained. Mothership… Tesla? Is there even a Tesla in this dimension? “Is that also the reason I don’t have to be stuck in an annoying toddler car seat?” “Precisely. Speaking of toddlers, your diaper is at capacity again.” I could feel mush in the back this time, and I really didn’t want to change myself. I sighed and surrendered my last bit of perceived independence. To an AI. I looked away from the avatar, clasped my hands, and pawed at the floor with my foot. “Umm… Can you do it for me?” I asked Luxuria shyly. “Oh? I thought you did a pretty good job changing yourself before you slept?” The hologram floated gently into my field of view. Ugh. This thing is reeeeally annoying. I blushed. “Yeeaah, but there’s poop and I really don’t wanna do it,” I whined. Luxuria may have called me a “big baby” in jest at that point, but she grabbed the supplies necessary and gently untaped my diaper. The hologram’s zephyry movements were calming and efficient, and I soon had a fresh diaper taped on. The experience was so nice that I didn’t even complain when the avatar used the powder. When she was done changing me, I asked what time it was, just as we pulled onto an off-ramp and started to decelerate. “Eight fifty”, the time showed up on the screen again, this time in a light theme. I wonder if all IDEs have dark themes here. “We’re almost at our destination.” “Which is…?” “Sorry, I’ve been specifically instructed not to tell you. Can I get you some breakfast instead?” That was a little annoying of Luxuria, but I did understand the Railroad’s tangible concerns about disclosing information. “Milk and cereal?” “Sure, what kind of each would you like?” “Skim and Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Do you have that here?” “No, but we have something similar.” Luxuria went to the AmeniTea and fetched a pitcher of milk, a bowl and spoon, and a cute little cardboard box of cereal labelled ‘Cinna-Crisps’. I opened the box and the plastic cereal bag inside, and dumped all seven or eight pieces into the bowl. I grabbed one and ate it in two bites. It looked and tasted like an oversized version of a piece of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but each circular crisp was the size of an Oreo! I poured enough milk to cover all the pieces, said grace, and started eating. When I finished it, Luxuria put everything back into the AmeniTea, and informed me that we’d arrived at our destination, just as I felt the limo stop. The large falcon-wing door lifted up and I saw that we were in some sort of garage. There was a van parked a few feet away, but there was nothing around that betrayed our location. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your Luxuria Experience, Izzy” she said as her avatar floated over to me. I jumped down from the bed. “I did, thanks. It was pretty amazing actually, especially you and the whole solid hologram thing.” “Happy to hear that.” Luxuria produced a lapel pin from somewhere and pinned it to the hem of my dress. “Here’s a profile microchip containing your privacy preferences and some basic information. Keep it on you until you upload it to the international federated blockchain.” She also handed me a bag with three spare diapers in it. “And these should last until you get more.” I blushed as I took it from her. “Gee, thanks,” I nodded semi-sarcastically and gave Luxuria a parting handshake. As annoying as she was, she’d been a pretty great companion. When I turned around, a Latina Mid came over from the van. Mark had told me about Mids, also known as In-Betweeners or just Betweeners. The term applied to the comparatively rare instances where a person was taller than a Little but not quite a Big. They were clearly as rare as Mike had claimed they were, since this was only my second time seeing one. “Hola Isabella, I’m Sofia,” she said in a thick Mexican accent. I was about to correct her about my name, but she seemed like the type of person that didn’t like being told she was wrong, so I kept my thoughts to myself and went with a polite “hi” and a small wave instead. Seeing that I wasn’t wearing any shoes, she told me, “I will take you over so you don’t get your feet dirty, reinita,” and picked me up out of the limo. “Good luck Izzy, and safe travels,” Luxuria wished as the hologram fizzled out. Sofia carried me over to the van, and set me down in the back. Once she made sure I was comfortably sitting in the lap of a giant teddy bear, she handed me a pacifier. “Put that between your teeth so they don’t break.” She ordered in a dead-serious tone. I was a little confused and intimidated by that, but I complied. Sofia shut the back doors and got in the cab. There was a plastic panel separating the cab and the back, which had no windows, so I couldn’t see outside at all. There was some light coming from the gap between the back doors though, which didn’t quite touch each other when they were closed. I perked my ears up instead, and listened as she started the engine and pulled out of the garage. The van was magnitudes less soundproofed than the limo had been, so I could hear every surface that we drove on, from the clank of a metal drain covering to the smooth hum on asphalt. The van clearly didn’t have A/C, so I was starting to sweat a lot. About twenty minutes into the sweltering drive, Sofia yelled out “hold on mi amor!” to me and violently swerved off-road. I heard the coarse crunch of the gravel shoulder for a split second, and then the finer crunch of hard-packed dirt as the van shook and bounced over the uneven ground. The shaking and noise increased in severity as we picked up speed, and I was now glad I had the pacifier. Clearly Sofia hadn’t been joking about breaking my teeth, as my bones felt like they were being jostled out of their sockets! Suddenly, I heard a loud CRACK, and then the wailing of a siren nearby. Sofia swore but didn’t let off on the gas, and the siren slowly faded. I was starting to fear that the van would shake itself apart as I was flung into the air from a particularly deep rut. After a few more minutes and a couple turns, I felt the vibrations dampen out as she slowed to a stop. I unclenched my hands, extremely relieved to still be alive. Luckily the bear’s soft stuffing had protected me from the worst of the bumps, but my diaper got soaked from the bone-jarring ride! I felt the van shift as Sofia got out, and then bright light streamed in when Sofia threw the doors open, causing me to blink. She picked me up and carried me out of the van, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I trembled in fear and panic as I took in the landscape around me. It was an arid desert, being burned by a scorching sun. Small shrubs broke the sandy ground here and there, and stout mountains loomed nearby. I felt a trickle of pee down my leg as I flooded my diaper beyond its leaking point. That served as a painfully ironic symbol for everything that had gone wrong, for my chances of freedom and living a life had just leaked away. Sofia smiled and told me, “Bienvenido a Méhico!” Chapter 9 — True North Strong and Free I sobbed into my pacifier, too dumbfounded to struggle, utterly broken. Why had I been so stupid to trust these people?! When she heard my sobs and saw my tears, Sofia looked concerned and rubbed my back in an attempt to comfort me, but I was going into a full meltdown. “Ay hey Isabella! Calm down! You are safe, I was only ahh, what is de word, ahh, kidding, kidding! I was kidding! Cálmate, princesa, cálmate,” she soothed, hugging me tightly. “Yer wying! Dersh no dezherch in Canada!!” The stupid pacifier was distorting my speech, but it was doing is job of keeping me somewhat calmer than totally berserk. “Mi amor, we are in de Okanagan, in de south of de British Colombia. You are safe, reinita, I just helpet you cross de border!” Her Mexican accent got even thicker when she was stressed, and she looked like she was about to explode from anxiety. “Cwoss de bohduh indu Mexico?” “No no! Canada!” “Pwove it! I dun bewieve you!” Sofia sighed and pulled out a thin, flexible rectangle of plastic. She swiped a gesture on it and opened a maps app. I could see the position indicator indicating that we were just inside the border with Canada, and the background even showed the mountains and labeled the desert as the Okanagan. At this point, I relaxed enough to realize that the best proof I hadn’t been kidnapped to Mexico was right in front of me: Sofia wouldn’t be going through all this trouble to show me where we were when she could easily just overpower me. A few moments later, a black SUV pulled up beside us, and an eleven- or twelve-foot-tall Amazon got out. I’d seen enough giants at this point to not flinch, but I still stayed alert. He ran over to me and gave me a quick inspection, a massive hug, and a kiss on the forehead before I could even react. So much for staying alert. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Isabelle.” He turned to Sofia and shook her free hand. “Thanks for bringing Isabelle over the border. You people are the ultimate heroes.” “You are welcome, Señor. Protect her, the hunters are everywhere I hear.” Sofia passed me over to him, along with the satchel of spare diapers Luxuria had provided. “I will, absolutely.” “Freedom is a right!” She waved and turned around to get back in her van. That phrase again. “Hold on. Who are you and why am I going with you if I’m already in Canada?” I demanded. I was done with not knowing. From now on I’m finding out everything before I do anything. “You’re fifty klicks from the nearest town and less than one from the border. Acimeran border forces have been known to cross over to recapture escaped Littles, which is exactly what you are right now,” he reasoned. “All I’m gonna do is take you further into Canada so you don’t die in the wilderness or get sent back to an orphanage. Any objections?” “No,” I huffed. The Amazon walked the few paces over and laid me down in the back of the SUV. “Hey! What are you doing?!” I protested when he flipped my dress up. He stopped and calmly said, “you wanna sit in your leaky diaper?” “No,” I begrudgingly acknowledged. He proceeded to change me into a diaper from the bag of spares. I sighed, red-faced, when he finished and buckled me into a car seat in the back. So much for knowing everything. Things really weren’t under my control here. At least he was gentle and didn’t try anything. “Okay Izzy, I’m Mike.” He glanced at some kind of holographic heads-up display and started driving away from the border along a small dirt track. “The reason I didn’t tell you my name earlier is because I didn’t want anyone from the Railroad to know my identity. Just a safety precaution.” “How did you know I like to be called Izzy?” I asked suspiciously. “I run an automatic bug scan on everyone that comes near my property, which includes my car. You’re clean, but you’ve got a microchip on you with a bunch of your privacy preferences, which ironically includes your preferred name in conversation. Are you okay with me calling you that?” *** I really did scan her and find the chip, even though that wasn’t where I got her name from. I didn’t want to let on to any more than I needed to right now. She’ll have plenty of time to fully comprehend the magnitude of what I did for her. Or leave. That was a grim thought. I’d snuck a tracking chip with an integrated mic onto her dress the moment she was in my arms, just in case she was dumb enough to choose that option and ended up needing my help. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going to stop her from doing that though. “Yeah, you can call me whatever,” she replied as I turned onto a paved road. Deep breath, explain the situation. You got this. “Okay. I want you to know that everything I’m doing for you is to help you. If at any point you want to leave, tell me and I’ll stop the car and you can go wherever you’d like. Just please be careful. However, I recommend that you stay with me for the time being, for your own safety. Even though Canada is a million times better than the US for Little Rights, you’re unfortunately still in danger of being kidnapped by Little Hunters from the US. They WILL smuggle you back across the border and they WILL sell you to the highest bidder before you can say ‘True North Strong and Free’. Because of them, most Littles here actually choose to stay with a Big family or friend for safety’s sake. In fact, it’s so common that we have a name for it: homestay.” “Where are we going?” She asked as I took the on-ramp onto the highway to Penticton. It was a pretty big detour from our final destination, but I didn’t want to drive all the way to the west coast before Isabelle got her citizenship, just in case we got pulled over. “Well first we’re going to the Immigration and Refugee Board for your asylum hearing, where you’ll get registered and get your Canadian citizenship.” Boy did she want to know everything! I guess that’ll help her survive in this dimension, so it isn’t exactly a bad thing… Makes her about as annoying as a toddler though. “They hand out citizenships just like that?” She snapped her cute little fingers to punctuate her point. “To Littles who manage to get to Canada alive, yes. There’s a special clause in the Refugee Act from about twenty years ago.” “The US doesn’t care?” “They tried to stop them at first. When people protested and Canada caused a huge international scene with the first escaped Littles, the US struck a deal with us allowing Littles that cross the border to stay without persecution. In exchange, Canada still has the Safe Third Country Agreement for non-Little illegal immigrants, plus extradition.” “So I can be fully legal and everything?” Izzy’s face lit up in an adorable smile. “Yup, should be pretty much guaranteed.” I kept the other tricks I had up my sleeve to ensure that, including the fact that I’d sponsored her application, to myself. “What happens after that?” “We can stop at Tims for lunch?” “Who’s Tim?” I chuckled. “Tims, or Tim Hortons, is just about Canada’s biggest coffee shop chain. Has been for decades.” She nodded and turned back to the scenery out the window. “What’s a Hellcat?” Izzy suddenly asked a while later, when we were about halfway there. “You met one?” “The guy that broke me out. He was a Little and said he’d been a Hellcat? So, what’s a Hellcat?” “Wow, cool. I didn’t know Hellcat vets were in the Railroad. The Hellcats are an international team of elite special forces. They’re above the law and protected as such by UN resolutions. They’re the best of the best in CQB, and they carry out counter-terrorist and hostage-rescue operations around the world. No Big unit can match their cool, speed, finesse and precision. You were in good hands.” Izzy had a shocked, then sheepish look on her face as I said that. “What’s wrong?” I asked, slightly concerned. “I umm… kinda fought them behind the orphanage.” Her face turned bright red and she looked away from the rear-view mirror where I could see her. I decided to have some fun at her expense. “Ahh you’d better watch your butt now, you’ve probably pissed off their whole regiment.” I teased. “What?!” She squeaked. “Kidding.” I smiled at her and she chuckled nervously. Soon, I pulled into the parking lot in front of the Penticton office of the IRB and parked. There fortunately weren’t many other cars there, so I was able to find a spot in the small lot. Izzy had dozed off en-route, and her pacifier that was clipped to her dress had adorably found its way back into her mouth. It bobbed in and out there with each breath she took. She looked so precious! I gently brushed her cheek with my fingers to wake her up, almost regretting disturbing her. “Hey Sleeping Beauty, we’re here,” I chimed. She stirred and I undid the straps on her car seat. “Sorry about the seat, it’s a federal height law and honestly safer for you.” I’d forgotten to explain that to her earlier since I was focused on getting her away from the border, and I tried to make up for it now. “Mmmm,” she moaned. I was about to set her on the ground when I noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Because of this observation, I made a split-second decision and changed my movement at the last minute, swinging Izzy awkwardly for a fraction of a second and accidentally bringing the sleepy girl out of her slumber. *** I felt myself pulled up suddenly in a motion that jolted me wide awake. I looked around and realized that we were in front of a small single-story office. The lower part of the shiny black coat of the SUV that we’d arrived in was caked in a layer of dust, and the rear passenger door was open. The Amazon… Mike… closed it and apologized to me, “Sorry for waking you up, Izzy, but I just realized you weren’t wearing any shoes.” “Huh? Oh ish okay…” I rubbed my eyes and waved it off. He nodded at that, and carried me in through the front glass door on his hip. The SUV pipped behind us, signaling the doors locking, even though Mike clearly didn’t do anything apart from walk away from it. Bluetooth? RF? NFC? Probably something similar, but more advanced. Aargh, I wish I could learn all of their tech! There were a couple people waiting around inside the air-conditioned office, most of them seated on a row of cushioned chairs along a wall. Heads turned to stare disapprovingly at us when we walked in. I let my pacifier fall to where it was clipped to my dress and gawped back at them. “Why are they looking at us like that?” I whispered to Mike as he sat down with me on his lap. He sighed and whispered back, “Adoption is illegal in Canada. There are, however, a lot of Littles that choose to live like they do in the majority of the US. Some of them are used to the carefree lifestyle from before they escaped, others saw the bright sides of the lifestyle and wanted in. But when they go out and do official government things, like what we’re doing right now, they usually dress and behave as adults. This is the IRB, so you’re dressed just as inappropriately as, say, if you were wearing pajamas or a bikini.” I giggled quietly at the picture. “Some of them probably even think I kidnapped you or I’m forcing you to do this.” An official-looking Little clerk walked over to us carrying a transparent tablet, her lips pursed disapprovingly. This was the first Little I’d seen working a job, and it very much set the tone for what Canada would be like for me. “Sir, I’m going to ask you to let her sit by herself,” she told Mike. She addressed both of us as he lifted me to an empty adjacent chair. “Miss…” she looked at her tablet for a moment, “Green, please be considerate of others the next time you pick an outfit to wear to a government office. I’ll let you both stay this time, but be warned that if you dress and behave like this next time, someone will likely ask you to leave.” I tried to start explaining to the lady, but Mike squeezed my hand to stop me, and I complied with a sigh. The clerk tapped at her tablet and gave us a number two greater than the one displayed on a TV hanging from the ceiling. “When your number shows up, please go into office number three over there, and an agent will help you out,” she instructed, pointing to the TV. “Miss Green must go in alone, per our privacy policies,” she looked threateningly at Mike. I nodded and Mike thanked her, and she seemed to be somewhat put off by that. She blinked and turned to speak to one of the others waiting. After about 10 more minutes, the display updated to mine and I jumped down from the chair. “They’re there to help you, so don’t lie about anything. Answer every question truthfully and provide as many details as you can. Good luck, I’m here if you need me,” Mike reassured. I nodded and walked over to the ajar wooden door labeled with a fancy calligraphic 3, my socked feet slipping on the floor tiles. The Amazon man inside looked up in surprise when I pushed it open and walked in. “What on earth are you wearing?!” He gasped, but quickly recovered. “Okay, okay, can you close the door?” When I did so, he took a deep breath and continued, “Okay… Isabelle, I’m Agent Duncan Schmidt with the IRB. I want you to know that you’re completely safe here. No one else, including the Big that I’m told you came with, will hear about anything you tell me, understand? And please have a seat.” I nodded, climbing onto a chair in front of his desk. “Okay, so I need to know, is he forcing you to dress like this? If so, that's illegal, you have every right that any other person in Canada has. We don’t discriminate by height or size here.” “No no, he isn’t. I just escaped from an orphanage in the US, and I haven’t exactly got anything to change into yet,” I explained nervously. He looked unconvinced, but dropped the matter. “Okay, so I need to confirm a few things with you. Can you state your full name and date of birth?” “Isabelle Dauphin Green,” I answered, followed by my date of birth. He nodded and tapped a couple things on his tablet. “You crossed the US border today and came straight here?” “Yeah,” I nodded. “I have it here on your application that you came via portal from the other dimension?” “Yeah,” I nodded. Application? “What was the date of your dimensional entry?” “Uhh…” I blanked on this one. I’d never bothered to ask anyone for the date, and no one had ever told me. “This past July?” I ventured vaguely. The chess tournament had taken place sometime in mid-July, and I knew that the dates were the same here as back home. Agent Schmidt looked at me suspiciously. “You don’t have the exact date?” “Umm… no, sorry.” “Okay, which portal did you go through? The name given by either dimension is fine.” “Uhhh… I…” How am I supposed to name the localized portal that the UN made?! “The UN one?” “What UN one?” “The one the UN made for me?” “What?? How am I supposed to help you if you make up answers to my questions?!” He looked exasperated, and he’d succeeded in scaring me. I started sobbing my heart out for the second time that day. Chapter 10 — Canadian, Eh? Thanks to the tracker I’d put on Izzy, I was able to listen as Agent Schmidt lost it and Izzy began to cry. Thank God I did that. I sighed as I got up and walked to the office. The Little employee tried to stop me, but I flashed my UN credentials and she stepped out of the way. I opened the office’s door to a depressing sight. Izzy was sobbing and the agent had his head in his hands, clearly too inexperienced for the situation at hand. He looked up at me, as if pleading for help, wanting to complain, and feeling guilty all at the same time. I sighed, picked Izzy up, and sat down with her on my lap. Her head nuzzled into my chest and I slipped her paci back into her mouth before gently patting her back to sooth her. “There there, I know you’ve had a tough day, let me handle it from here, eh?” I quietly comforted the poor girl as I slid my credentials across the desk with my free hand. “She’s telling you the truth,” I told Schmidt, turning my gaze back to him. “I was the one that brought her to this dimension. We opened up a localized portal and saved her from drowning. She’s actually right about the UN part; you can just choose ‘Other’ in the list of locations and enter ‘UN’ into the system.” He nodded and quickly did that. “Now, I can tell you’re new to this, so let me remind you of Rule 323 in your handbook. Isabelle here is a Little, obviously, and she has a sponsor, me. That means she can be fast-tracked through the refugee registration process and get her citizenship and passport now. I saw a stack of blanks in the office across the hall.” Schmidt nodded again and asked a few more questions, all of which I answered for Izzy, who’d managed to calm down and stop sniffling. The agent then got a blank passport from the opposing room and uploaded all her documents to it, along with the full-body scans I’d stolen from the orphanage servers. It was safer for Izzy that they didn’t have the scans — one less data leak to worry about. It had been a walk in the park to hack their servers and delete it after my data transfer anyway. It took just a few minutes for the central office in Ottawa to remotely approve and activate Izzy’s new passport, and we were on our way out in no time. I made sure to thank the agent for helping us, as well as the nice Little who’d both let us stay and tried to stop me. People doing their jobs thoroughly were worthy of a pat on the back, even if they got in my way. *** Mike buckled me into the car seat and handed me my passport, which consisted of a rectangle of plastic that looked like a smaller version of Sofia’s phone. “Fanks, Mike, fuh…” I paused to spit the pacifier out, “for that back there. I had no idea you were the one that brought me to this dimension… so umm… thanks… for saving my life.” “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Congrats on becoming Canadian, you deserve it.” I nodded, but one question still burned: “But why did the UN just dump me in a shack in the middle of nowhere?” Mike sighed, “I’m sorry, Izzy. I’m really sorry for what happened to you with Karen. That was our release team’s fault. You were supposed to go to Kate, Karen’s younger, richer and less heartless sister. Unfortunately, she died from a car accident just before you would have, and, well, that wasn’t something anyone expected and Karen ended up getting custody.” And now she’s IN custody. Hehe. “Again, I’m sorry. I never would’ve let that happen had I known. Most of the time the system works, but sometimes it doesn’t, and there’s nothing we can do except try to fix it.” “It’s okay,” I reassured him, “it’s not your fault I guess. The irony though.” “Yeah,” he breathed. “So, you wanna get the full Tims experience to celebrate your new Canadianness or go for drive-thru?” “It’s safe to go in, right?” I needed to be sure. “Yeah, you should be safe, especially since I’ll be there with you.” “Let’s do that then. I’d never been to Canada back home, might as well see it all now?” “Excellent choice,” Mike commended as we pulled up to park in front of the coffee shop. I got the seat straps off and opened the door… and Mike got to my side just in time to catch me from almost falling out! “Easy there, Tiger,” he steadied me and picked me up. “Hmm, I thought those buckles were supposed to be Little-proof?” “I’ve got a knack,” I shrugged. The SUV pipped again as we entered the Tim Hortons. “How is your car locking itself? Bluetooth?” “Yep, it’s a distance measurement feature. It measures the Doppler effect on the Bluetooth signal waves. You know what Doppler is?” “Frequency of the wave changes as the distance changes, right?” “Wow, you’re smart. What would little miss genius like for lunch?” I stared at the expansive menu, not quite sure of what I wanted, as we joined the line to order. “Afternoon folks, what can I get ya?” A robot server asked. “Chicken salad croissant, combo with a large, dark roast, Double Double and a hashbrown, please.” Mike told it, turning to look at me. “I uhh…” I still hadn’t made up my mind yet, but Mike’s meal was sounding pretty good. “I’ll have the same please, but a donut instead of the hashbrown?” “Excellent choice,” the android smiled. “Make her coffee a Small,” Mike interjected. “Sure. How would you like it?” It asked me. “Decaf, three cream, three sugar, please.” “Excellent, what donut would you like?” “This one, please and thank you,” I pointed at a cruller which it fished out with a pair of tongs and put in a paper bag for me. “You’re very welcome, have a seat anywhere and we’ll bring your food over in a moment.” “Decaf?” Mike questioned, sitting me down at a table and then joining me on the other side of it. I noticed that my seat was much taller than his, so the table was the right height for both of us. Quite a clever design. “I drink coffee for the flavor, not the caffeine,” I explained. On a whim I also noted, “That robot was really good at language parsing. And being nice.” “Oh? And I’m not eh?” He kidded and I laughed. “Well you’re not a robot,” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Mmm.” He nodded and continued in a less joking tone, “Welcome to Canada. Most of us — robots and people — are like this: we respect everyone regardless of size. We even have Littles on all levels of government.” “Well I’m liking it. Better than the crap I had to put up with in the States.” “Watch your language!” Mike chastised, making me jump slightly. “There’s kids around,” he reasoned, motioning towards a family of Amazons beside me. I glanced over and spotted the mother shooting daggers at me. “Sorry.” I sheepishly apologized as another robot arrived with our food. “Bon appetit!” It wished, before leaving with an empty tray from the table beside ours. “By the way, Canadians call ‘three cream, three sugar’ ‘Triple Triple’. ‘Double Double’ means two of each and ‘Regular’ means one of each. “Oh… I was wondering what you meant by that.” I was about to dig in when I realized something. “Uhh… Mike?” “What’s up?” “We didn’t pay,” I pointed out matter-of-factly. “We did, it’s automatic. See?” He tapped at the air a few times and suddenly a hologram of the receipt floated in the air in front of me. “Whoa, that’s so cool! Where’s the projector?” “It’s part of my state-of-the-art cyrano.” The hologram disappeared as he showed me a black earpiece that I’d thought was a rather old-fashioned Bluetooth earbud. I nodded and quickly said grace, before grabbing a bite of the croissandwhich. It was really good! The orphanage food I’d been eating had really prepped up my taste buds for all the proper food since my escape. By the time I finished savoring the sandwich bite by bite, Mike had finished his meal. He laughed when I picked up the honey cruller donut with both hands. It was the size of a small cake for me! “What’s the deal with you Littles and your sweets?” He smirked. “All Littles like sweets?” I questioned. “Every single one that I’ve known or heard of.” “Must be some kind of gene or something,” I offered. “Maybe…” When I finished the donut, Mike took all the garbage to the nearby bank of bins and sorted them into some 10 different types. They must really care about the environment here to go through that big of a hassle with their garbage. “C’mon, let’s go. I need to get you some shoes soon, it’s getting tiring holding you!” he remarked while picking me up again. I laughed. “You know, I kinda like it when you carry me around. Nobody’s done that for me in years!” My eyes welled up slightly as I recalled my dad carrying me as a kid when I was too tired to walk, but I shook it off. Enough tears for a day. Mike checked my diaper discreetly and whispered, “You’re soaked, you want changed?” I nodded thanks. Screw Karen, taking away all my potty training like that. *** I brought up Izzy’s situation again on the highway to Vancouver, “Where do you wanna go?” She stopped suckling on the bottle of water I’d given her. “What do you mean?” “Well, you’re no longer an illegal immigrant, you’ve got your passport, you’re a lot safer now. You still wanna come with me, or I can drop you off somewhere?” “I’d be safer with you, right?” “I think so.” “And I’ll still be free to go whenever?” “Of course.” “I’ll stick with you for now then, if that’s okay? It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else in particular to go.” “Absolutely, Izzy, I’m glad that that’s what you want.” “Are you gonna charge me rent or… how’s that gonna work?” “Don’t sweat it. It’s the least I can do for ya after everything that happened. If you get a job someday and you still want to pay me back then… we can cross that bridge when we get there, kay? Right now I don’t want you to worry about a thing.” “Thank you so much Mike. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. People like you in the Railroad are just amazing…” She thinks I’m with the Railroad. Should I tell her? What would her reaction be? She’s already decided to stay with me on her own volition… I mulled over this a bit and decided to keep it to myself for the time being. If she found out somehow, that would be great, but I wouldn’t be the one to tell her. I spent the rest of the drive chatting with Izzy about her home dimension and mine, comparing differences and noting some surprising similarities. She was an amazing person, and she’d been an aspiring chess player, steps away from her GM title, until the unfortunate incident happened. I promised her that I would do my best to find a way for her to play professionally, even though it would probably require pulling a lot of strings. The first step would involve getting her a chess set, so, seeing as she also needed clothes, diapers, shoes, and everything short of furniture in her size, I drove to a massive outlet mall I knew of in Langley. This time Izzy was more careful with her exit, and waited for me to get to her side before getting up from her car seat. She held her arms out to be picked up and I obliged her with a kiss on her forehead. I stuck a finger into her waistband to check her diaper, which earned me an “Eeep!” It was wet again, so I quickly changed her in the back of the car. “This is the last one in your baggie, we definitely need to get you some more, eh?” I noted and was met with bashful nodding. I knew I couldn’t carry both her and everything we were getting, so I made a beeline for the robocarts once we were inside. I double-tapped a black one and it rolled off its charging dock. I set Izzy down in the padded seat behind the basket for unique purchases, set it to follow me autonomously, and headed for the first shop on my cyrano’s list. On our way there, I asked Izzy an important question: “Aside from diapers which you obviously need, are there any other baby-Little things that you want? You seem pretty glued to that paci for instance? It’s perfectly normal for you to be attached to things like that from your time in the US.” I consciously left out the hypnosis she’d been subject to, in hopes of not triggering PTSD. She’d been through enough for one day. She looked a little red faced and quickly spat the paci out, catching it with her hand. “I’m sorta… drawn to these… they’re really soothing for some reason. Bottles as well,” she added reluctantly, “They’re more relaxing to drink out of and next to impossible to spill. I think the addiction might have something to do with getting hypnotized, that’s how I lost my potty training?” “Makes sense. We can do that. You want some more cute clothes too?” “Ooh I got put in these footed sleepers that were so fuzzy and comfortable, I’d love some of those. I actually had one back home too. And I won’t mind some more pretty dresses either!” She smiled at me and I smiled back. “Sure thing, princess.” She was so precious! Chapter 11 — Some Things Can’t Be Bought This Robocart thing — that’s what the sign on the charging dock called it anyway — is so high-tech. I’ve seen similar robots being used to make deliveries and shelve books in libraries, but never as grocery carts. This is genius though. You never have to worry about leaving your cart somewhere and having to find it again, or having to push it through a crowd of people… The size of the basket doesn’t make sense though… Why is it so small? It certainly wouldn’t fit the list of items that Mike mentioned he was buying… Several store employees greeted us with a smile, but they never offered to help us. Soon, I figured out that only the people with red carts got offered help, and I was sitting in a black one. Apparently, Mike didn’t think we needed any help. When we reached the first aisles of items, I noticed something was off immediately. “Uhh Mike? Why are there only demos of everything and no actual stock?” “Oh I can just scan the barcode with my cyrano and it’ll be added to our virtual cart. We’ll pay at checkout and then pick up everything from the dispensary. Here, you wanna help me scan? That should give you something to do other than look around and keep you from being bored to death?” He fished something that looked like a large signet ring out of a pocket and handed it to me. I took the device from him. It was really light and seemed to be made of plastic. “That is such a brilliant idea!” I couldn’t believe that no one in my dimension had thought of this shopping model before. I never liked online shopping because I couldn’t see and feel the actual product. VR previewing was a thing, but that could only go so far. We’d yet to perfect reproducing textures and the feeling of holding a physical sample in your hands with haptic feedback. On the other hand, in-person shopping was slow and frustrating. People spent way too much time getting things off shelves and into their carts, not to mention all the checkout lines. “I know, right? Best of both worlds.” He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. I twirled the ring around my finger. “Kay, how does this work?” “Point the lens at a barcode and press on the back — there’s a pressure switch under the polycarbonate there. The scanner will vibrate every time it reads the code. If we get two of the same item just scan the same thing twice, and so on; one scan per count.” We reached our first stop in an aisle full of all sorts of different diapers, and Mike tossed me a Frozen-3-themed sample, covered in little snowflakes, Elsas, and Annas. I caught it like a frisbee and brushed my fingers over the fabric of the padding. It felt like I was touching a cloud! “Whoa, this is so soft! Makes the ones I’ve been wearing feel like sandpaper.” “MapleLove. It’s a Canadian brand, and we tend to do things right, even if we don’t really advertise that on the international scene. Scan it twice for two cases for now, eh?” He smiled. “Kay,” I nodded. “Oh right, what size are you?” “Err… I’m not sure?” “Okay, stand up and let me check.” I begrudgingly complied and let him lift my dress up to see. It felt like my wet diaper was exposed for the entire world’s viewing pleasure, and I was definitely going to die from embarrassment! “The princess is of size four,” Mike proclaimed in a whisper, chuckling when he saw the color of my face. “What’s wong, pwincess don’t wike her diapees shown off?” I whacked his arm. “Not funny, Mike. You try it sometime.” He smirked and handed me another diaper from the same brand. This one was covered in little translucent robot characters that reminded me of EVE from WALL-E. I didn’t recognize the characters though, so it was probably a Disney movie from this dimension. Hang on… “Why is this one so thick?” “It’s a nighttime diaper. Extra capacity so you don’t leak. One case should be plenty for now, we can always restock online.” I nodded and scanned it. Mike walked over to an adjacent aisle and the robocart followed suit. This one displayed an assortment of pacifiers and bottles. I was seeing more of these today than I’d ever seen in my entire life. “Any in particular that you like?” “Anything but the ones that expand. Those hurt like hell. Also, pink isn’t my color.” He nodded and picked up a Blue/Green/Purple 3-pack and matching bottles. He also grabbed a plaque for a case of wipes and a wipe warmer, something I’d never heard of but he assured me I would love. Just as I finished scanning all of them, I heard a female voice call out. “Mike! Didn’t expect to see you here today. How’s it going?” I looked up and saw a middle-aged Big with a Little in a sling of sorts. “Hey Maria! Going pretty well, yourself?” As she drew closer, she was about to respond when she saw me. “I’m— Oh my gosh, that’s… that’s…” “Isabelle,” Mike helped her out. “What’s going on, Mike? Why is she here?” “I’m just getting her some clothes and stuff. As you know, the release team screwed up and she got messed up pretty badly in the US, but she managed to get to the Railroad. I met her at the border. The paperwork is all done, I sponsored her and she’s Canadian now,” he smiled. “Wow, I’m glad you’re okay. Maria Torelli, I’m the physician on Mike’s team at the DRC.” She repositioned the sling and reached out her hand, and I grasped it in an awkward handshake. Our hands had so much of a size difference that I would have done better shaking only a finger or two! “This is Michelle, my adopted Little girl— Ooh! Hi snookums! You’re awake!” She looked down and gave Michelle her full attention, gently playing with her for a moment and then sitting her up. I took the opportunity to give Mike an uncomfortable look. He seemed to understand why, and put his hand reassuringly on my shoulder. “Ask her about it.” “Umm… Maria? No offence, but I thought adoptions were illegal here?” She looked back at me and lightly bounced Michelle, who had her thumb in her mouth and was cooing softly. “None taken. In the vast majority of situations, yes. So don’t worry, Mike can’t adopt you, even if you wanted him to, which I very much doubt.” She paused and he chuckled. “But special cases are granted for the few regressed Littles that somehow end up in Canada. Usually it only happens when an adoptive parent in the US screws up somehow, and the Railroad rescues the Little. It’s really a needle in a haystack though. Unfortunately Michelle’s regression was clinically proven to be irreversible, so she’s stuck like this for the rest of her life.” “Fortunately for her, I love her very very much, and I take very good care of her,” she told Michelle friskilly with a kiss. The Little girl in her arms just stared blankly into the distance with empty eyes and a blissful smile. I could tell that she was just a shell of a body, with no personality, no thoughts, and barely any consciousness. It was as if her brain was disconnected with reality. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Maria does seem to love and care about her though. Somewhere in my subconscious, a sliver of envy panged at just how much love Michelle was getting. Having always been the mushy, clingy one in the family, and ridiculed for it, I was a sucker for affection. Mike had definitely given me plenty with his hugs and kisses, especially considering we’d literally met less than 16 hours ago, but a little part of me couldn’t help but crave more of that. Just thinking about it made me feel fuzzy and warm. “Well, we’d better get going, this one needs her diapee changed.” She remarked. Turning to me, she continued, “Looking like you could use one yourself, eh?” The fuzziness dissipated and the warmth relocated to my face at her remark. I wanted to dig a hole and jump into it! I took a sharp breath, but got it together enough to wave goodbye to Michelle as Mike said “See ya!” and Maria disappeared down another aisle. Mike then turned to move to the adjacent store, and the robocart trailed him. From a quick history lesson Mike gave me on the spot, this one seemed to be this dimension’s version of Oshkosh. I cringed a bit at that, but I did ask for cute clothes, and beggars couldn’t be choosers, so I kept my complaints to myself. We found the toddler footwear section, where a friendly sales associate measured my feet to ascertain my new shoe size. Once Mike entered it into his cyrano, I scanned a pack of cute animal socks and another pack of normal pastel colored ones. In the same section, we also picked up a pair of sandals, sneakers to which Mike hilariously referred as “running shoes”, and some cute and furry booties that looked like a pair of little kittens. They were all adorably brightly colored and adorned with cute designs, but a distinctive compass icon on each of them caught my eye. Mike saw me fingering the icon patch on the sandals after I’d scanned them, and explained, “It means they come with GPS tracking tags. It’s a really common feature used to prevent children from getting lost. You can hardly find any kids’ shoes without them these days. We can always disable them or even rip the chips out altogether if you’d like, but I don’t think we’ll find any shoes here that fit you and come without ’em.” In an adjacent section, we found racks of dresses, onesies, rompers, and footed sleepers of various designs and sizes. It turned out that clothes shopping was exactly like back home, since there were several duplicates of each of the hundreds of styles, with retail tags on them. So that explained the robocart basket. Mike grabbed several dresses and sleepers that caught my eye for me. The adorable toddler and fashionable adult dress designs from this dimension both looked amazing, and I could see myself wearing just about anything on the racks. Just to be safe though, I did also get Mike to find me some plain jeans and t-shirts. We headed for the fitting rooms, where I tried on my selections and modeled a few for Mike. He cracked up when I put on a unicorn-themed dress, complete with a matching glittering horn headband. I also had to enlist his help with some of the designs that zipped up the back, which I felt were a pain and decided not to get, even though they looked really cute! I was still very unused to being in a fitting room with another person, even though said person had literally changed my diaper several times by then. It was just something I hadn’t done since I was a little girl. Guess I AM one again. Honestly, I’m still not sure how I feel about that. Thankfully, Mike had the same basic fashion sense as me, so we went through the giant pile of clothes in record time. After trying everything on, I made a few edits to my selections and scanned everything. Mike then put the clothes in the robocart’s basket. On our way out of the store, he took a detour through the stuffed animal section. “Anything you’d like here? Plenty of adults have giant plushies… I may or may not have one myself,” he smiled and gave me a playful wink. “Hmm…” What the heck. Might as well go all the way and splurge on my cuddling desires. “Can I have a dolphin?” I pointed at a pile of them, each one the same size as me. “Sure, princess. It’s your middle name, right?” He grabbed one and set it in the basket. “Well my middle name’s supposed to be the title of the crown prince of France, but it does have multiple meanings, so sure.” After I scanned the stuffies, we proceeded to an IKEA-like store on the other side of the mall. There, Mike had me scan everyday things like cutlery, a sonic teeth cleaner, a desk and chair, and a bed, none of which he had in my size. When he asked if I wanted a crib or a regular bed, I told him about how much I hated the stupid cribs at the orphanage for how prison-esque they felt and how I relished my freedom. For the same reason, I went with a booster seat instead of a highchair for meals. Having spent the past few weeks under almost suffocating restrictions, I didn’t want any more. Mike even managed to find a chessboard for me. When he claimed that he’d beat me with it, I giggled, knowing that, unless he’d somehow left out crazy secrets about who he was, he stood no chance. Our final stop was a Best-Buy-like store called Motherboards. Mike looked like he was giddy with excitement as soon as he stepped foot inside. He was definitely as much a tech fan as I was, if not more so. I couldn’t help but get hyped when I saw the crazy specs of everything, and I literally drooled at the insane hardware that they had. I could easily spend a whole day in this store, but Mike seemed to know what he was looking for. He waved off an overeager sales rep trying to be helpful and made a beeline for a section labelled ‘Displays and Peripherals’. He double-checked something with a sales rep there that I didn’t quite understand, and scanned the items himself with his cyrano. When I asked him what he got, he just smiled and said I’d find out soon. I was exhausted, so I didn’t push the matter. Mike took a left out of Motherboards and led us back to the mall entrance where we’d come in from. There, he showed me how the mall’s centralized checkout system worked. It turned out to be exactly like shopping on Amazon, less the shipping selections, since we were collecting the items right there. When the payment went through, an employee walked us to a receiving bay, where an autonomous flatbed robocart laden with everything we’d purchased met us. The employee checked over everything with Mike, and he confirmed receipt by scanning his cyrano. With that done, they thanked each other and Mike headed for the SUV, where he transferred everything except my dolphin to the trunk. Mike then picked me up, handed it to me, and pressed a button on both carts to automatically return them. Mike tore open a case of diapers and a pack of wipes. He changed me on the backseat before disposing of the used diaper in a nearby trash receptacle. The MapleLove indeed felt amazing. I could hardly even tell it was there, if not for the slight warmth and the bulk. Mike buckled me into my car seat. At that point, I had the first real chance that day to process the sensory overload. Nothing else demanded my attention. My head hurt from all the incredibly convoluted feelings I had, even as I felt content that I had no immediate worries. I abhorred whoever destroyed Michelle with fiery disgust. I pitied the poor girl. I was grateful that Maria had stepped up and shown her love that was as unconditional as a human could give. I still had a twinge of disbelief that I’d managed to escape, and a panging guilt that my friends were trapped in the orphanage. I was hopeful for my future, grateful for Mike’s kindness, captivated by all the futuristic tech in this dimension, and thankful that God hadn’t forsaken me. Above all, there hung an overarching exhaustion from the day’s events. Fatigue soon enveloped me. Hugging my dolphin, pacifier bobbing in and out of my mouth in tune with my gentle breathing, I drifted off to a peaceful sleep and the land of carefree, uncomplicated dreams. End of Part 1 =========================================================== Thanks for reading Part 1 of my story! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing. You can find Part 2 in the original thread linked below, being posted a chapter a week! Please leave a like and a comment, it means the world to me!
  7. I often wonder and think if this is normal for me as an adult baby. Being that I am incontinent, an adult baby and in diapers permanently. I am starting to see myself regress more towards being an adult baby than a normal adult. I'm seeing myself more as an adult baby in an adult world and whenever i am around adults, grown ups and big kids. I'm regressing more towards, thinking, acting, behaving and dressing more like an adult baby than an adult. For example, when I am at home, I don't ever wear pants or hide my diapers because being an adult baby, I don't get to hide my diapers and babies like me, are not afraid or ashamed of being diapered. With my incontinence, I am at a point now where I can't even be a big girl, adult or grown up anymore and I'm dressing more like an adult baby. It's why I am at a point now, where I am seeing myself more as an adult baby than a normal adult. When I am around normal adults, grown ups and bog kids, I see myself more as an adult baby around them and not as an adult. When it also comes to potties, being an adult baby, I know I don't even see potties as potties anymore and I see and view adult potties that only grown ups, adults and big kids do. Being an adult baby, I know potties are off limits to me cause that's where the potty monster lives and that's where grown ups, adults and big kids do their thing. I wonder am I slowly regressing to the point where I am an adult baby and no longer an adult and where's the point where adulthood ends and adult babyhood begins. I am wondering because I am starting to see myself fade away from being a normal adult and instead regress more towards being a full time permanent adult baby.
  8. Being an adult baby, diaper dependent and Incontinent, I'm so sick and tired of the stigma attached to wearing diapers. People in society associate diapers that only babies where and society never seems to understand that diapers are not just for babies, but also for anyone who has a medical, psychological or personal need. On top of that Society makes you feel weird, guilty and ashamed for wearing diapers. It's like society wants to shame you for wearing diapers and trying to solve a medical issue that you have. I know we're all different but at some point, people and society really have to stop with these old stereotypes, notions and beliefs about wearing diapers and the people who have to wear them. After all, this is 2022 and we are in the 21st century and those old stereotypes, notions and beliefs about wearing diapers belong in the 19th and 20th century. When a theoretical physicist with ALS finds the will to live and embraces the technology to allow him to continue a stellar career, he is celebrated across the globe; When a double-amputee track athlete wins an Olympic medal, the world looks on in awe. When a blind man learns to play piano and sing, he becomes one of popular music's most enduring and beloved figures. But when those of us with no/compromised bladder or bowel control find the right products to contain the situation, and also find the courage to wear them, we still live in the "incontinence closet", in fear that someone will "find out" that we have a medical problem. It is only we who can solve this inequity, not others. As so many here have said, few people in our lives would reject us because of this problem. The sooner we accept that for truth, the sooner we will be free of this long-held and deeply-damaging secret. It's why being an adult baby, diaper dependent and incontinent, i'm sick and tired of all the diaper stigma's attached to being diapered and wearing diapers. I'm not ashamed, afraid or even scared of wearing diapers and knowing they help me deal with being incontinent. Being diapered and an adult baby is how i deal with the adult world and how i deal with being incontinent. It's why I'm at an age where I am comfortable in being diapered and not ashamed, afraid or humiliated for wearing diapers. It's time to end the stigma of wearing diapers and put those old stereotypes, notions and beliefs about wearing diapers back in the 19th and 20th century where they belong.
  9. princessk

    New

    I'm a switch. Right now I'm looking for online relationships. I'm incontinent & wear pull ups. The little girl - I have no specific age. I guess it depends on my mood. I like to be old enough for a good bare bottom spanking but young enough for snuggles & stuffies. I need a daddy who will take care of me. I can be a handful b/c I'm often naughty, mischievous, & have tantrums, even though I know it'll get me put over daddy's knee. The mommy - I'm also looking for a little boy who needs a mommy. I'll take care of you & love you to pieces. Be forewarned, if you're naughty you're in BIG trouble! I'll put you over my knee & spank your bare bottom! I will not stop until the lesson is learned, no matter how much you cry. You will then be put in corner time with your bare bottom on display. When it's all said & done you'll get snuggles.
  10. Here is chapter one of a new project. This is a shared project from me and Sky Hooves, based on an RP! We both hope that you'll enjoy it! Climbing the Corporate Ladder by Panther Cub & Sky Hooves The city of Sanoto, the gleaming silver jeweled capitol of Lushuin. Population roughly 8,000,000. When I was a little kit, I always used to dream of coming to the big city and making it big. After college, when I was finally able to move into an apartment of my very own… well… let’s just say that those dreams are on hold… The fact that I’m a twenty-seven-year-old jackrabbit suffering from Youngston’s Disease, rendering me fully incontinent certainly not helping. My name is Melody Cooper. I have yellow eyes, a pink nose, and tan fur. After many years of humiliation, I have become very adept at discretion. Still, though, I live every day in fear that my secret will get out. It's why I changed my name after graduating high school. Gunna be late! I think to myself, frantically, as I sprint down the sidewalk. There is a slight waddle to my gait, but I push on. After getting ready for work, I had suddenly found myself with a very messy diaper, which I of course had to take care of, thus eating up so many precious minutes to get to work on time. I ignore the bulge of my padding as I make the next crosswalk in record time. I check my watch, feeling a slight stitch in my side, surprised that I might just make it. It's going to be a close one. I can see the building, Bushel Inc. coming into view. I reach into my purse and pull out my i.d. badge, and practically hurtle through the revolving doors at the front desk, and leap up to flash it to the security guard, as is required of all employees. The bored-looking male polar bear takes it and scans it. I hop from foot to foot as I wait for the o.k. to enter. Then there's a beep, and he hands it back to me, and I dart off. My cubicle is on the twenty-seventh floor, so when I make it to the elevator, my heart soars as I'm the only one, and jump up to hit button 27, taking some time to catch my breath and smooth out my clothes, a simple navy skirt-suit. Linda’s POV: I look down at the bunny that just ran into the elevator at high speed, trying to get her breath under control. It was one of my employees, Melody Cooper. Seems like, she made it just in time. She is a really hard working mammal, but a tad on the shy side. I'm actually a little worried for her, since she doesn't seem to have many friends outside of work from what I heard. My name is Linda Moon. I'm a 31 year-old lioness. I have green eyes and a black nose, and very light beige fur. I also have a daughter named Kira. She is also a lioness, like me. Her father, a loving and wonderful hyena named Jonas, died before she was born in an accident, and I have raised her since then. It wasn't easy, but I managed to have time for her and my company. Melody’s POV: Satisfied, I take a deep breath and smile, certain I‘m gunna make it before I was officially counted as late. It was then that I heard the noise of someone clearing their throat, and I turned, jumping a little at the sight of my boss, Mrs. Moon. "OH! Mrs. Moon," I say to the lioness towering over me, "g-good morning." Linda: I smile down at her, making sure to look as non-threatening as possible. "Good morning Ms. Cooper. Seems like that was a close call this time." Melody: I blush a little and nod, I can't let her think that I'm lazy or something. "Uh... I h-had a minor emergency to deal with this morning." Linda: I look a bit worried. "Is everything alright? I hope nothing bad happened." Melody: "Oh no, nothing terrible. Just an... inconvenience I had to deal with, is all..." Linda: "Alright then. As long as you still make it on time, It's no problem. But try to keep these inconveniences to a minimum. You are a hard worker." The Elevator dinged at the 20th floor, signaling that I had reached my destination. "And here is my exit. I wish you a nice day, Ms Cooper." I say and wave to her as I leave for my office. Melody: "Y-yes Mrs. Moon. Y-you too!" I say, putting on a smile, despite my nervousness, and wave back. I sigh as I ride the rest of the way up, feeling good to hear someone as important as Linda Moon telling me how important I am. Still though, I'll have to wake up even earlier from now on, just in case I start messing myself in the morning again. Linda: I make my way to my office. I couldn't help but worry a bit about Ms Cooper. I meant what I said that she is a great worker and the others really like her, even with the little interaction she has with them. She seems pretty skittish around others... or it is just my size that is intimidating her. "Or maybe, it's just my motherly instincts taking over again..." I say to myself under my breath. It is a well-documented fact that lionesses have overactive mothering instincts, myself being no exception. Melody: I find my cubicle, with just two minutes to spare, and quickly turn on my computer, logging in. I sigh once more, before smiling, getting to work. It may not be glamorous, but I do find the monotonous work to be relaxing. Linda: I sit at my desk and go through some new contracts and other paperwork. Nothing much was happening and soon, after a few calls, I feel the need to use the restroom. I log off my computer, and head out my office door, making my way to the elevator. Melody: I type away at the keyboard, checking each shipment and double-checking, making sure everything is going where it's supposed to. Not the most exciting job in the world, but it's certainly an important one. I just finished another batch, when I smell a sickly-sweet perfume, like rotten bananas, and my stomach tightened. "Almost came in late, Miss Cooper," came a voice just as sickly sweet as the perfume of its owner. I gulp and turn in my chair, which is several sizes too big for me, to look up at the leering face of my manager, Amanda Winter. For some reason, the snow leopardess has always seemed to have it out for me. "Y-yes, Miss Winter. But I got in before I was," I say in my own defense. The primly dressed feline clicked her tongue dismissively. She was wearing a lavender pinstripe skirt-suit, her claws painted a matching color, with two big dangly gold rings in her ears. "Just make sure to be at your desk, on time, in the future." She said, implying that I was late, when I have never been late to work, not once. "Y-yes, Miss Winter," I say, blushing as I feel like a small child who had just been scolded for being bad. The padding I can feel warming between my legs not helping. I wait for her to continue on her rounds before I grab my purse and hop down to take a bathroom break... to change my diaper. I remember getting a memo about how all the restrooms are being worked on on various floors, so I picked the closest floor to go, on the 20th. Linda: After a bit more work, I had to go to the ladies’ room. I sat down in one of the stalls to do my "personal business" as I heard the door open again and little paws tapping around on the tile. Melody: I blush from the extra waddle that's been added to my walk, before I enter the stall. I sigh once more as I am confronted by toilet stalls and toilets meant for much larger animals. Still, I don't suppose I could easily use the toilets in here due to my size. Silver lining, I suppose. I close the door behind me, unable to reach the latch, and instead take off my skirt. I fold it up and put it into my purse, before I untape my wet diaper, letting it fall to the ground with a wet plop. Linda: I sit still in my box and hear a ripping sound and something wet hitting the ground next to my stall. The sound is familiar, and as a mother, it takes me only a few moments to realize that it’s the sound of a wet diaper. Had someone brought their cub to work? Why not leave them at the daycare here at the company? Maybe I need to better advertise to my employees about the free childcare on level fifteen. Melody: I pull out the tub of wipes and start cleaning myself, tossing two used ones into the used diaper, which I then fold and tape up into a ball. Then I pull out a fresh diaper and, not wanting to lay down on the bathroom tile, put it on while standing up, the tapes being the trickiest part. Once finished, I pull out the canister of baby powder, and open it. After I pull open the front waistband of my diaper and powder myself, I repeat the process in the back. Then I double-check the tape just above my tail, brushing off some of the powder that had lightly dusted it. I finish off by putting my skirt back on, double-checking to make sure it's on correctly, before I grab the used diaper and my purse, and walk back out, heading first for the trash can, thankful to have the bathroom to myself. Linda: From my stall, I could hear the familiar sound of a diaper change going on right next to my box. But something was off. It was the lacking sound of a child moving around or making any kind of noise. Also, they aren’t using the diaper change station. I heard the stall opening and the occupant leaving and the lid of the trash can being opened and closed. I finished my business and left to wash my paws. There was a faint smell of baby powder in the air. I don't know why I did what I did next, maybe just out of curiosity, or motherly instincts, but I took a peek inside the trash can. There I saw a rolled up, used diaper. It was a small diaper, like the ones my own little cub used, but the markings on it didn’t look like a child’s diaper at all. Actually, it looked more like a very tiny adult diaper... But who was small enough... my eyes widened a bit as I made a connection as to who the other mammal potentially is. But I wasn't 100% sure. For now, I would just continue work and think about this later. After all, it wasn't really any of my business. Melody: I make my way back to my desk and get right back to it. Amanda stopped by a few more times, just to let me know that she was watching me, I suppose. Soon enough, lunch rolled around, and I logged out before hopping up and making my way down to the cafeteria. Linda: After some more hours of paperwork, lunchtime comes by and I make my way to the cafeteria. But before that, I take another stop at the company's daycare centre to get my own little cub from there. As I entered the daycare, I find a little light beige ball of fluff leaping into my arms. "MOMMY!" Kira shouted gleefully. "Hello, my little princess. Mommy missed you. Have you been a good girl?" I ask her, hugging her close. "Mhm! I have been super good! I colored this for you!" She said, holding out her paws with a piece of paper in them. It’s a crayon picture of us together, holding hands, with a big smiling sun in one corner. "Such a cute picture! I'll make sure to put it right in my office so I can see it everyday! Now, how about we get some lunch together?" I offer, folding up the picture and putting it into my purse. "YAY!" Kira cheered. I first had to sign her out, but then we made our way to the elevator, my little cub in my arms. Melody: I’m in the elevator, lost in my own thoughts, only vaguely aware of the door opening, not paying attention as to who just entered. Linda: I see Ms. Cooper is already in the elevator, lost in her own thoughts. My little girl looks down at her and tilts her head. She motioned for me to let her down, to which I comply. She walks over to Ms Cooper and taps her shoulder. “Hi there! I'm Kira! Who are you?" She says, sounding bubbly and excited. Melody: I jump a little and turn to face the childish voice, to see a lion cub looking at me with a big smile on her face. She's wearing a bright white sundress, which I realize looks very similar to one I have back at home. I blush a little, and then my eyes go a little wider when I recognize Mrs. Moon, towering over us. I realize that this must be her daughter, so I compose myself and give the little girl a smile. "H-hi. I'm Melody. I-it's nice to meet you, Kira." Linda: I smile down at the two interacting, looking like two children becoming friends. My little Kira always loves to make new friends. "Hi! You have a cute name! I like you!" Without a warning, Kira hugged my little bunny employee. There was a ding, and the door opening signaled our arrival at the cafeteria. Kira grabbed Ms. Coopers paw in her own and my left in her other. "We can have lunch together! Can we mommy? Can we?" Kira asks, bouncing on her feet. Kira looked at me with her best, puppy eyes and I just couldn't resist. "Well, if Ms. Cooper is ok with that," I say, turning to look at Melody. Kira looked now to Ms. Cooper with the same puppy eyes. "You want to have lunch with us, don't you, Melody?" Melody: "U-uh..." I look from my boss to her daughter before nodding, making what I feel is a smart decision, at least to keep my job, "s-sure." Linda: "YAY! My new friend and I are having lunch together!" Kira shouts, starting to skip as we walk along. A few employees looked our way at the outburst of my little girl, but they didn't think much of it, since most of them already knowing how excitale she can be. The crinkling sound of her diaper made me think back to the events from the bathroom... But a tug on my paw got me back to the here and now. "Come on, mommy! Me and Melody are hungry!" Kira says, tugging again. "Alright, alright. I'm coming." I say with a laugh. Me and Ms. Cooper are led by my little girl to the line of people waiting for their turn. There’s numerous stations, each with dishes catering to the variety of different dietary needs for my employees. Kira, meanwhile, starts talking with her new friend about this and that. "What is your favorite color? Mine is pink! I also like to play dress up and have tea parties! What do you like to play?" Her words came out practically in a rush. Melody: I blush as I'm sure all eyes are on my holding hands with Mrs. Moon's daughter, but I continue on, wanting to keep the child, and therefore her mother, happy. "O-oh! I've always been p-partial to g-green myself. A-and... uh... I enjoy p-playing games o-on my Z-box." We get in line, and I have to hop up a little to grab a fresh tray. Linda: "You have a Z-Box? That's so cool! My mommy won't allow me one until I'm older." She says, looking up at me with a small blast of her puppy-eye look. I listen to the two talking while grabbing myself a tray. I noticed how Ms. Cooper had to jump up a bit, but didn't comment on it, now realizing that we seemed to have overlooked species of smaller statures, something that’s going to need to be amended. We walked along the line and I grabbed a few things for myself and my daughter. "When you see something you want, sweetie, just point it out." I say to her. "Ok mommy. You hear, Melody? Just point something out and mommy will get it for us." I had to hold back a laugh at that. Melody: "U-uh, th-that's very nice. But I d-don't w-want to be r-rude," I say, hopping up a little to try and grab a carrot and berry smoothie from the nearest station. I had already managed to snag a salad, but this cup was just a little too out of my reach. Linda: Kira giggled at the cute scene of the bunny hopping up and down to try and grab the smoothie. I hear again the familiar crinkle of a diaper but don't think much about it. I smile at the cute scene between these two and just grab the smoothie for Ms Cooper and give it to her. "Here you are. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I actually think we should make a few changes to fit the cafeteria for smaller species." Melody: "O-oh! Th-thank y-you, Mrs. Moon," I say, accepting the smoothie with a blush, "that would actually be wonderful." Linda: We walk over to an empty table and Kira leads Ms. Moon to an empty chair, which is big enough for them both. "Come Melody! We can sit together!" Melody: "U-uh..." I say, unable to think of a reason why we couldn't sit together, but then find myself being tugged up into the chair next to the toddler. My ears twitch at the sounds of what I take to be her crinkling diaper, and hope that I'm not also hearing my own. Linda: Kira got Ms. Cooper up in the chair and cuddled close to her while I set the trays on the table. "Now, Kira. Do you want me to feed you or do you want to eat on your own?" "Feed me, please?. What about you, Melody? Do you want to be fed as well until your mommy comes?" Oh my goodness, that is just too precious! As Kira asked that, I understood why she was so friendly with Ms Cooper. She thought the little bunny was also a toddler. I decided to not say anything and let it play out. It was just too cute. Melody: I blush even more now. "U-uh... I can f-feed myself, b-but thank y-you for offering, th-that is v-very polite. A-also, I-I'm an adult." Linda: Kira tilts her head, clearly not understanding how this mammal, that was the same size as her, could be a grown-up. Then she looked down at the outfit of her new friend. It was rather adult like... “Ooooh… YOU LIKE TO PLAY DRESS UP TOO!” Kira shouts excitedly, bouncing in her seat, while Ms. Cooper seems to be blushing even more underneath her fur. "Maybe we can play something else after lunch?" I couldn't help myself but giggle at the cute little scene. Kira is still very young and hasn't met any adults her own size, so it makes sense that she is confused. "How about we first eat and then talk about playtime later? Don't want to let the food get cold." I say. "Okay, mommy!" Kira says. I start to cut up Kira’s food for her into small bites, feeding it to her, while taking bites from my own food between her chewing. Melody: I feel as though my face is as red as a tomato, yet all I can think to do is instead start drinking my smoothie, and start in on my salad. Linda: As we continue to eat, Kira keeps looking and smiling at Melody, occasionally asking a question between bites. "My Favorite TV-Show is The Lion Guard! Guardians protecting Prideland City from criminals! My favorite character is Officer Kion! He is really cute and silly! Who is your favorite character?" Melody: "I, ahem, I haven't actually s-seen that show." Linda: "Really? Doesn't your mommy let you watch it?" Kira says before gasping. "Maybe you could come over for a playdate! I have every episode on DVD! We can watch them together!" Kira smiled brightly and jumped a little on her seat, making her diaper crinkle and giving Ms. Cooper another hug. I smiled at how well Ms Cooper is behaving for my little girl’s sake. Melody: "W-woah now. I'm a-actually a grown-up, and therefore h-have a lot of responsibilities." I say, looking panicked at Mrs. Moon, whom I'm certain would not at all be comfortable with some strange adult coming over to watch a tv show with her daughter. Linda: I keep watching the whole interaction between the two and couldn't help but find it extremely adorable. But Ms Cooper is right. I pet my little girl's head and lift her into my lap... but since she was still holding onto Ms. Cooper, I also lifted her into my lap. "Sorry, sweetie, but Ms Cooper is right. She still has a lot of work to do here." Melody: I squeak, and quickly scoot off of my boss' lap, her daughter somehow still clinging to me. My ears twitch as I hear a certain rustling as I scoot, but I ignore it and hope she just assumes it's her cub. Linda: I hear again the rustling of a diaper but first assumed it was Kira, until I heard it again as Melody began moving. I was interrupted from my thoughts by the sound of my watch beeping, signaling the end of my lunch break. And sure enough, people in the cafeteria are also already putting away their trays and heading out to the elevators. "Alright, sweetie. Lunchtime is over. Let's get you back to daycare." I say to Kira. I stand up and take Kira’s paw in my own again, while she grabs Melody’s paw and we make our way to the elevator. Kira giggled in excitement and looked to the still blushing jackrabbit while hopping from one paw to the other. "I can't wait to show you all the toys they have there! They even have lots of cute outfits to play dress up in!" Melody: "I-I'm s-sorry, miss Kira, b-but I have to get back to work now." I say now looking with pleading eyes at Mrs. Moon. Linda: Kira tilted her head in confusion. "Why would you want to work? Work is boring. Bah!" Kira sticks her tongue out for emphasis. I decided to step in and help Ms. Cooper. "Sorry Kira. But Ms. Cooper has a job to get back to, before she can play anywhere." I hit the button for the fifteenth floor first, to drop Kira off at the daycare. Melody: My eyes widen as I'm still being dragged along due to the little girl's surprisingly iron-like grip. "Uhm... M-Mrs. Moon?" Linda: "Yes, sweetie? ...I mean, Ms. Cooper?" My saying sweetie just felt so natural to say to Ms. Cooper, her little voice really sounded like that of a little cub. Melody: I blush as I point to my paw still in her daughter's. Linda: I giggle at the sight and bend down a little. "Kira, sweetie? Melody needs her paw back." Kira looks sadly up at me and lets go of my paw to give Ms Cooper a big, kinda protective, hug. "But I want to play with her! She’s my new friend!" Kira whined, giving me the full blast of her puppy eyes. I look apologetically to Ms. Cooper, then back to my daughter. "Maybe when you behave, she can play with you another time?” Melody: "U-uh... m-maybe?" I say, unsure of how to go about proceeding. I'm not really looking to sign on for any babysitting duties, but Mrs. Moon is my boss after all... Linda: Kira smiled brightly and started jumping again, with Ms. Cooper still in her arms. "YAY! We can have a playdate! I can show you all of my toys and drawings!" I giggle at her excitement, but I’m unsure if Melody would be willing to play with a four-year-old girl. The door to the elevator opened and Kira again held my paw and Ms. Coopers as we entered the daycare. Melody: I blush as we enter and I get the chance to look around. Once more I am reminded of my size, seeing all of the young children sitting on furniture and playing in play sets that would fit me more or less perfectly. There are some larger ones for children of larger species, but still. Linda: A warm and happy voice came greeting the group. "Hello Mrs. Moon! I see that you’re bringing little Kira back to us today!" A cheetah woman in a yellow dress and pink apron came over to the group. "Hello Mrs. Spot! Yep, I’m bringing back this little wildcat for some more playtime." Melody: I nod and politely wave to the daycare worker, waiting for Mrs. Moon to help me get Kira to let go. Linda: Mrs. Spot looks down and sees Kira holding the paw of another little mammal. This one may be small, but it only takes a moment for it to register for her that the little jackrabbit is clearly an adult. "Hello Kira! Welcome back. And who is your little friend here?" Mrs. Spot gives the bunny a wink. "This is Melody! She’s my new friend and we’re gunna have a playdate soon!" Kira announced excitedly. "Is that so? That sounds like fun! Now, why don't you go along and play with your other friends, while I talk with your mommy and Melody?" "Okay! Bye Mommy! Bye Melody! See you soon!" Kira said, giving both hugs before finally releasing Melody and running off. I took a second to sign her back in. Melody: I blush, now worried, and look up at the two taller ladies. Linda: Mrs. Spot sees the worried look on Ms. Cooper's face and bends down to get on eye level with her. "Don't worry. I know you are an adult. But sometimes, kids from bigger mammals have a problem seeing the difference." Mrs. Moon looked a bit guilty and scratched the back of her head, as she explained "I'm sorry for that whole thing. I should have stopped it from the beginning, but, to be honest, it was just too cute to see you two interacting. I'm sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable, Ms. Cooper. But I also have to thank you, for being so patient with my little girl and playing along." Melody: I smile nervously and rub the back of my head as well. "N-no problem, Mrs. Moon. Well, I need to get back to work, before my manager starts to wonder where I am." Linda: "Alright. Don't let me stop you. And when your manager asks, tell her to ask me for an explanation." I say. Melody: I sputter an embarrassed goodbye as I jog back to the elevator, crinkling as I did so. Linda: As the elevator closed, with a red faced bunny inside, I turned to Mrs. Spot. "Thank you again for taking care of my little one and all the other children here." "No problem. I love taking care of them. So, Ms. Cooper seems to be a nice person. If a bit on the shy side." "Oh yes. But that's probably because she was talked to like a toddler by my daughter." I say, feeling a small pang of guilt. "I can see how she could make this mistake. With them both being the same size… why, if Ms. Cooper were dressed in something more childish, I could see how she could easily be confused for a toddler, or even an infant, even by most adults!" I think back to earlier today in the ladies’ room, as well as to all the times I heard Melody crinkling when she moved. I then started to imagine what Melody would look like, dressed in just a shirt and diaper, and almost let out a coo at the thought, it being just too cute for words. Melody: I hop up to hit the button for the 27th floor again, and take the time to compose myself on the way up. The door opens and I step out, only to immediately bump into the leg of Amanda, as she leered down at me. "Get lost on your way back from lunch?" She asked in that sickly-sweet voice of hers. "S-sorry, Ms. Winter," I say, my ears drooping, "I got a little caught up with Mrs. Moon and her daughter." Amanda's eyes narrow at that. "Oh? Nice to see you finally taking the initiative and begin sucking up to the boss herself, but I would recommend learning to walk before trying to run." "H-huh?" I ask, bewildered. "I mean, you already have a boss immediately over you..." she trails off before turning with a swish of her white spotted tail and stalking off. Still confused, I make my way back to my cubicle, hop up into my chair, and log back onto my computer. Linda: I head back to my office and continue with work. But I'm a bit distracted as I think about what happened today. Especially at lunch. From the outside, it must have looked like a mother lion eating lunch with her two cubs. I remember how... cute... Ms. Cooper looked when she was so embarrassed sitting next to my Kira. Melody: Amanda walked by my cubicle a few more times, before she had to take a call. I wasted no time signing off and finishing up making sure my work space is cleaned, before I head to the elevator. I ride amongst several different people, some I've seen around that I make polite conversation with. I panic a little as I realize that I'm wet again, but I decide to tough it out and wait until I get back to my apartment before I change. Linda: After finally finishing my work, I prepare to leave. Signing off and making my way to the daycare to get my cub. I saw Ms. Cooper in the elevator among other employees, but we didn't get a chance to talk with each other. I left the elevator and entered the daycare, and again, a little fluffy lion jumps in my arms. "MOMMY!" "Hey there, Kitten. What are you doing? Waiting in a ready position to jump into my arms?" I ask with a chuckle. "Uhu!" Kira responds with a giggle. We thanked Mrs Spot once more, with me signing Kira out again for the day, and started for the elevator. Kira looked a bit upset and I asked what was wrong. "What's wrong, Sweetie Pie?" "Well, I didn't see my new friend Melody. I wanted to show her all the pictures I drew. I even made a picture for her!" She showed me a drawing of herself and Melody, both wearing pink dresses, standing on a green line with flowers and a smiling sun in the sky. It was really cute how attached she already got to her new friend, despite only meeting her for half an hour at lunch. "Could you give it to her when you see her? Please?" I smiled at my little princess and took the drawing from her paws, ruffling her head fur. "When I see her next time, I will let her know you miss her and show her the picture." We got to the parking garage and I got Kira all buckled up in her carseat in the back, before getting in myself. It didn’t take long for us to arrive at home and, after a quick change of my little girl's diaper, I prepared our dinner. We both hope that you enjoyed this first chapter! Please leave a review!
  11. Hi All I am thinking outside the box what kind of Catheter can stay in the bladder so urine can just drain into adult diapers as been in them since 2009 when I had an Spinal Injury L3L4L5S1 to the point of Intermitted urine Incontinence, intermitted retention, bowel constipation, as well as apparently purposely dehydrate myself due to my issues to the point my psychologist wants me to do exposure therapy to get "used to" wetting myself so I desensitize so its not traumatic and accept my incontinence as the intermitted no warning episodes is messing up my autism and mental health to the point I occasionally self harm because of it even though been 11 years. Catheter and bag system wont work for me as I wouldn't be able to insert it myself as well as a high fall risk and the tubing would move as well as tangle according to health professionals due to my many disabilities incl shaky hands will def ask the next urologist if the ever open and see people again in Australia public health
  12. Heya all, I started a Telegram for those who want to help support and motivate each other. This is not meant to compete with this forum but is meant to be work along side this forum. It's dedicated to support, motivation and help therefore the focus is on long term methods and not shortcuts like stents and catheters, however we all know people will try these methods and since they are the most risky I to support them being talked about so that it deters those who won't go through the proper sterilization procedures while at the same time educating those who will do this anyways in how to properly go through the sterilization procedures this way we can minimize any potential self harm as subculture together. This group is not for those still in the binge/purge cycle who are looking to "force" themselves out of it. This group is not for those who only see retraining in a sexual way; its ok if retraining/incontinence is sexual to you as long as you can also see it as non-sexual, I am realistic on how people view things, not everything is a either or situation, however we are looking to normalize this to help support one another, not fetishize it. It should also be noted that its ok to be lewd/RP here and there as long is it does not absorb the entire chat and as long as one halts their lewd/RP activities when someone comes for support. If advertising a Telegram is a bad idea please inform me ASAP so i can delete this post ? (sorry if it is) Sorry for being a bad boy and not fixing this earlier. The reason why the invitation link was not working is that I made the group private for security reasons. However you can still join by messaging me on Telegram. To join contact me for an invite my Telegram handle is: @Acer144
  13. Julie is a young actress just starting to get a big break in the film industry. She signs a contract for a new adventure film that begins shooting very soon afterwards. Julie's day gets off to a very strange and worrying start but is hopeful things get better as the day goes on. --- This story, like nearly all of my others, gets posted on my Patreon page one week before being posted everywhere else. For just $5 a month you can gain early access to all my work. I make one post every four days which means about eight updates every month (Less than a dollar an update!) For $10 you can get early access PLUS exclusive access to some stories that aren't posted anywhere else. There are currently TWENTY-ONE Patreon exclusive stories that can be read right away with a $10 pledge. There are other tiers and rewards available including discounts on commissions, free short stories, pictures and massive gratitude from me for supporting what I do and allow me to continue working and posting every four days. A huge thank you to all my current patrons: DannyDazzler, Jerry J, Arnold G H, Chris, Kristoffer M B, Ryan, James S, Justin C, Fuli, Spaxxs, Craig G, Steve, J Onyx, Dre, Pat M, Sierra C, Miss X, PF, Georgia C, Camilo H, Babyjay, Jeffrey G, Charlie S, Martijn de J, Phantom Sonic, Vivi L, Mike S, Dr J, Bojack D, Blipp, Duncan G, Jake W, Brandon G, LuvsSissy, DreaR, Alex B, Malcolm E, Pete W, Cless, Frank S, PatheticABDL, Joshua M, NunyoBC, Kim, S Miller, Britnee L, Tim F, WillNotWill, Orion F, Tom H, Sterling W, Jens B, Raven, Bryan, Erin R, Scott, Cory H, Lyra H, ReiofLight, Wet, Whatsnot, Charles L, Bask25456, MagmaLord, Trish C, DJKazoo, Anne Mette B-H, Kirk H, Mikkel L, Eric D, Bruce D, Alice W, Bob S, Timothy A W, Erik P, Ben F, Steven H --- Julie’s Descent By Elfy “This paperwork is killing me!” Julie said as she dramatically threw her head back. Her long black hair dropped over the back of her office chair as she slowly spun on it in impatience. Julie Matthews, the famous actress, was sitting at her large and heavy wooden desk. In front of her was a bunch of paperwork and waivers for her upcoming action-adventure film Maxine Kraft: Queen of the Jungle which was a sequel to the movie that had originally made her a big name a couple of years ago. “Don’t I pay you guys to do all this?” Julie asked the advisors in front of her. She was mostly directing her complaints to her personal assistant Roger Freeman. “I’m sorry, Julie.” Roger said. He rolled his eyes a little, “These forms require you to sign them though. It’s been a long day for us all…” “Ugh…” Julie stretched her arms and groaned as if she was having to work extra hard. “Just imagine it’s another autograph session.” One of her entourage said. Julie didn’t know whether her friend was being serious or not but as she slowly spun her chair around and balanced her pen on her nose she looked around at her study, the room currently so crowded by everyone. As soon as Julie had signed her first major movie deal she had used that money to buy the large house they were all sitting in. It was something she always wanted to do and she had spent a lot of her time redecorating the large rooms to make it something she considered home. The study was lined with books she had no interest in reading but made her feel smarter, the desk was antique and her laptop sat on top as well as a bunch of other office-like things that she never had use for. Even the drawers were filled with things she didn’t need, the exception being the second drawer from the top which was filled with snacks. Julie stopped spinning her chair again as she looked across the desk to the half dozen people waiting for her to finish the simple task. They were clearly impatient for her to sign the paper so that they could go home. She knew none of them would push her too hard to do it though, except maybe her assistant who she let get away with a little more than everyone else. Julie picked up her pen and could almost sense the sigh of relief from the other side of the desk. She started to check the boxes and sign the bottom of one form after another, after the first couple of sheets she started just signing everything that appeared in front of her. She stopped reading anything as she impatiently worked through all the different forms. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” Julie’s personal stylist asked to break the silence. “Going to the club.” Julie said without looking up, “Filming starts on Monday so I have to enjoy myself whilst I can.” “It’s a hard life being an international celebrity, millionaire and beautiful actress.” Roger said sarcastically with a smile. “Watch it, Roger.” Julie said with a little smirk, “Those millions pay your salary…” Roger put his hands up in mock surrender causing everyone in the room to laugh including Julie. She may have developed a little bit of an ego since she became famous but she had retained her sense of humour. “Finally…” Julie said as she extravagantly signed the last form with a flourish. Roger stood up quickly and picked up the stack of papers. Julie was already getting out of her chair with the intention of going upstairs and getting dressed up for a night out at the hottest nightclubs in town. “See you on Monday.” Roger said as Julie walked away, “Bright and early on set at 6am.” --- In the very early hours of Saturday morning Julie came stumbling back into the house feeling more than a little tipsy. Julie didn’t really understand why she was feeling so drunk since she hadn’t really had that much alcohol. She never drank much when she went out and was all too aware of the paparazzi following her around and waiting for her to slip up so she could be splashed all over the front pages. It had happened to her co-star on her last movie. Julie headed straight up to her bedroom where she collapsed on to the bed without getting undressed. She was asleep before she even touched the pillow. It was a strange night for Julie who had a lot of very strange dreams. It was hard for her to work out everything her mind was seeing but it was like a rush backwards, things sped past her vision too quickly to make out and she felt like she was falling. Julie knew, even in her dreams, that this was strange but she could do nothing to wake herself up until very suddenly her eyes shot open on the bed. Julie immediately felt like something was wrong. She had immediately forgotten the details of her dream but she did remember something weird had happened. It took her a few moments to remember that she had stumbled home last night which explained the dress she was still wearing, strangely she didn’t seem to have any kind of hangover. As Julie sat up she felt a very different sensation and it was one that caused her to wake up fully. She looked down and gasped before scrambling off the bed and covering her mouth with a hand. In front of her on the sheets she had fallen on top of the previous night Julie saw a large wet patch. She tried desperately to remember if she had brought a drink up to bed the previous night but she knew she hadn’t. The hand that wasn’t covering her mouth travelled down to the crotch area on her crumpled dress and she gasped again as she felt soaked cloth. She had wet the bed! Julie wasn’t quite sure what to do but she felt an instinctive need to get rid of the soiled bedsheets and clothes. She stripped the dress off and pulled the sheets off the bed, throwing the discarded items into a pile at the foot of the bed. Julie didn’t stop with her dress though and she pulled off her underwear as well, her panties were of course very wet but even her bra came off and was added to the pile. Julie finally stopped when she was completely naked and she could look down on her body. For whatever reason she felt a lot more comfortable now but she didn’t want to slow down to work out why. She normally had maids who came in to clean things but there was no way she was leaving her piss soaked clothes for others to find. If this got out to the press she could only imagine the damage it would do. Julie grabbed the bundle of wet cloth and hurried down the stairs and into the small annex where her washing machine waited for her. She only allowed herself to slow down and take stock of the situation once the washing machine was turned on. Julie leaned against the vibrating machine and tried to think about what had happened. She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever wet the bed but it can’t have happened since she was a baby. She had no hangover either so she can’t have been so drunk to have had an accident, she had been much more inebriated in the past without wetting herself. Julie shook her head in disbelief and walked away back into the main part of the house, she was still naked but getting clothes was a distant priority. It was strange for Julie to be stood there completely naked but for some reason it felt like it would be even stranger to put clothes on. She wasn’t sure what to do, normally she liked to go out with friends or attend a social function on Sundays but today she didn’t want to leave the house. Julie walked back through to the living room and sat down on her couch, she put her feet up on the table as she switched the television on and flicked through the channels. Julie found herself bored by everything that was on TV and sighed as she continued to flick through in a bored manner. Just as she was about to give up on finding anything she would like she flicked over to a children’s TV channel. She was about to continue through her search when she saw something on the screen that intrigued her. Her head tilted to the side as she saw some people in animal suits jumping around the screen and dancing. Julie couldn’t explain it but the colourful images and happy noises seemed to make her happy as well, she couldn’t help but smile as she watched the infantile adventures. Julie sat on the couch completely naked for a long time and when she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the screen she realised that the morning had quickly become afternoon. She shook her head to try and throw off the cobwebs that seemed to be making her brain foggy. She looked down at her nude body and suddenly became quite annoyed about what she saw. She had always been fine with how she looked but she suddenly found her pubic hair an irritant. Standing up from the couch saw Julie wobbling slightly. Her legs felt a little weak and she made slow progress towards the stairs. Once she had got upstairs she walked straight to the bathroom with only one thing in mind, she sat down on the cold toilet seat and reached over to her shaving cream. She quickly applied the cream all over her crotch and then, deciding she might as well be thorough, she coated her legs in the white substance as well. Julie took the razor she kept on her sink and started the slow process of shaving herself. For whatever reason she had suddenly come to hate the hair that she was removing and knew she would only feel properly clean once it was all gone. When Julie was finally feeling smooth she looked into the mirror and smiled. A small giggle escaped her lips as well although she wasn’t sure why. She turned and left the bathroom to return to the television. Monday rolled around and when Julie woke up she discovered another horrible surprise. As her eyes opened and she rolled over she felt a familiar and horrid feeling. “Not again…” Julie whined as she pulled the covers back and looked at a large wet patch on the bed. Julie climbed out of bed and stamped her foot on the ground in frustration. She couldn’t believe she had wet the bed again and this time there was no alcohol to blame. She felt worried about how she had suddenly become a bed wetter and wondered what she could do to stop it. She was just about to start stripping the bed like the previous day when her phone suddenly rang. Still naked, Julie leaned over to her bedside table and picked her phone up. She could immediately see Roger’s name lighting up the screen. She debated ignoring the call but tapped on accept as she held the phone up to her head. “Hello?” Julie said with a yawn. “Ah, Julie, you haven’t disappeared off the face of the Earth then?” Roger said sarcastically. “What do you mean?” Julie asked as she ran a hand through her hair. “It’s ten o’clock!” Roger said with exasperation, “You’re late!” “Oh, shit…” Julie exclaimed as she looked at the clock. Roger was absolutely correct. “Your car and driver are waiting for you at the gate.” Roger continued, “Get ready and out there as soon as possible.” Julie hung up the phone and with some exclamation she left the bedroom and went into the bathroom. She jumped into the shower before the water had even warmed up and started quickly soaping herself up. As she reached down with her hand and felt her smooth vaginal area it took her a few seconds to remember her sudden shave the previous day. She dried herself off after finishing in the shower and dropped the towels she was using in the hallway on the way to the bedroom. She was never usually this cavalier, she put her change in attitude down to her need to hurry and she burst into her room completely naked again. She hurriedly got some panties and a bra on followed by throwing a dress on. She didn’t really care what she was wearing and in many ways she was a little sad she had to cover herself up at all. She grabbed her things and went downstairs, she barely stopped long enough to grab her coat before leaving the house and practically running to the car. When she finally reached the shooting location she found everyone had been waiting for her and she was quickly taken through to get changed. She stopped being Julie and became Maxine Kraft as she pulled on the hot pants with two pistol holsters and a green tank-top that showed off her midriff. Acting is a tough job and Julie was on her feet for the next six hours shooting and repeating scenes with her other actors and actresses. It was exhausting work and with the shooting going through lunch the only thing that had passed her lips was water which she had drunk quite a lot of. It was as she got on her mark for take twelve of a scene that she suddenly felt the amount of liquid in her system catch up with her. “OK, scene thirty-three, take twelve.” The film director called out, “And act-” “Hold on!” Julie suddenly interrupted. The director put his head in his hands before looking back up in exasperation. These long days weren’t only tough on the actors and he was hoping to wrap shooting sooner rather later. He motioned with his hand for Julie to say what was on her mind. “I… I… Was just wondering how long this was going to take because I rea-” Julie’s stuttering words were cut off. “I don’t know how long it will take.” The director said tersely, “But with each interruption it will take longer.” Julie nodded her head in understanding and was too shy to ask to be allowed off set. She could feel her bladder aching as she turned to face her mark again. She was facing the villain of the movie and he was holding the rare artefact she had come looking for, the scene called for her to run across the set before engaging in some hand-to-hand fighting. “Action!” The director yelled as he leant forwards to study what happened. Julie was startled by the shout but she quickly regained her composure and did what she had been training most of her life to do. She took a deep breath and then, just as the script said, ran forwards towards the handsome actor playing the villain who was laughing maniacally. Julie had barely made it even a few steps before suddenly feeling something she hadn’t felt since she was a toddler. The tension in her lower body suddenly seemed to ease and a warmth started spreading between her legs. She could feel her panties suddenly soak and the tight shorts she wore darkened as they started absorbing her bladder’s contents. Soon the hot urine was running down her legs and into the boots she was wearing. Julie skidded to a halt as her face froze in a picture of shock. The actor she had been charging towards stopped laughing as he saw the dark patch spreading throughout Julie’s clothes. It felt like an age passed but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. The normally loud studio was very quiet either from people staring at the embarrassing accident or from people who thought the acting was still happening and hadn’t noticed the wetting. “Cut! Cut! Cut!” The director jumped up from his chair angrily, “Why did you stop!?” Julie was suddenly brought back to the present and a shiver ran down her body. She looked around at all the people staring at her, the director had been positioned behind her and clearly hadn’t seen what happened. Julie wasn’t sure what to do until she suddenly heard a tiny drip, she looked down to see the urine starting to pool beneath her. Instinct took over and Julie turned towards the exit and began running as fast as her legs would carry her. Julie was in tears before she had even left the building but she pushed past people and ran towards her trailer. She had two thoughts in her mind and they both felt overwhelming, she had to get to the safety and privacy of her trailer and she had to get these uncomfortable clothes off. Acting on instinct and outside in front of dozens of people Julie reached down and started pulling down her shorts. She seemed to have no shame and despite knowing people were looking at her she couldn’t help but start to undress. She was still moving towards her trailer as fast as she could as she kicked off the sodden clothing. She didn’t stop there either, to the shock of anyone witnessing this bizarre scene she pulled down her panties and kicked them away as well. “What on Earth…” Roger was standing nearby and looking on in shock at this strange spectacle. He watched as the person paying him ran by crying and half-naked.
  14. Hello everyone! I have been wearing 24/7 straight without cheating for about 2 weeks and have been essentially reverse kegaling to weaken my bladder muscles. At this point (depending on my hydration level) I don't feel any urge except RIGHT before my urine exits my urethra and it's too late to stop it and I don't dare try(!!). Occasional little "twitches" are felt inside my bladder which I believe could be tiny spasms but they are few and far between and I barely notice them. Recently, however (and first few days into diaper training) I have had this slight "discomfort" about halfway down my urethra (tube which urine travels through the penis to exit the body). It's not painful and it's very tolerable per se but it's just annoying enough to get my attention. I've noticed that it happens most often during "dry spells" when my muscles are relaxed but no urine is leaking out. Sometimes it is irritating enough that it can keep me from going to sleep...like I said an annoyance. My urine is clear or slightly yellow (aka..healthy) and I'm drinking ~80 oz of water and have about 5 cups of black coffee a day along with cranberry juice here and there. I realize that muscles can weaken along the urethra and that signs of atrophy are pain/discomfort from non-use but I wanted to throw this out there and see if anyone else had similar instances during their diaper training journey. Basically is this progress and an expected change in my body as I progress and will it go away? Thanks for reading and I hope to hear back from someone soon.
  15. This is another story that was posted on another site but never here. (1) New School I don’t think anyone will try to kill me this time. Not here. I mean, as school entrances go, it really doesn’t even look all that imposing: just a medium sized stairway leading to a white double door under an archway with some sort of Latin inscription. I have no clue what it means; I don’t really care either. As long as it doesn’t mean Carly isn’t welcome here it’s fine by me. And I don’t think it means that. I’m pretty sure there’s no reason for anyone here to hate me. Not for who I am or what I am or what I may bring with me. At least not yet. Mom let me help pick out this town. I think she felt it would give me some ownership in the move or something. I know that’s what my therapist said, anyway, and it sounded good in theory. You’re taking a teen out of school and moving across the country, uprooting her during high school: a traumatic experience, right? She’ll have to say goodbye to friends, move away from places she feels comfortable and get used to everything all over again. And she’ll be that most awkward of things: the new girl. Truth be told, though, I was ecstatic. I suppose I used to have friends—well, a couple, anyway—but we’ve moved so much that I never really feel settled anywhere. And this move? It couldn’t come fast enough because the very last thing I was back in Elmdale was comfortable. If I had really explained to Dr. Sessions (what a name for a shrink!) what was going on at Elmdale High and why I started skipping school...and why I did what I did, not that I can even recall most of it...I suspect the only move I’d have made would have been into a padded cell. But Dr. Sessions is behind me now too, like Elmdale High, like Marissa, like… It isn’t good to dwell on this. Picking the new town was interesting. Mom’s new job was going to be in LA, so we had to be in commuting distance, though the fact is that she’d actually be working from home most days. So we sat with a map and a computer and wandered through the towns we had as options. The hundreds of towns we had as options. She suggested we go somewhere near the ocean, and at first I thought that really didn’t matter to me anymore, but she talked me into it. And when it came right down to it, what difference did I really think it would make? “You’ll regret it if we don’t,” she said, and I had to agree she was probably right. And that’s how we ended up in Corona Bay. It just ended up checking enough of our boxes to pass the test. So now I stand here staring at some Latin writing on the door of Corona Bay High School (Go, Sea Lions!), needing only to walk up the stairs to start my first day, a week after the year began for everyone else here. Joy. I examine the entryway carefully, searching for any sign of anything that might seem odd, but there’s nothing. Kids file past, normal enough looking kids, not even noticing me, many dressed in the school colors of red and grey. I look down at my red skirt and white top: it will do, I think. Raising my head, I notice a teacher at the top of the stairs looking down at me with a helpful look in his eye. Oh God. Please don’t. “Miss?” he calls to me. Damn. “You look a bit lost. May I help you?” You might have begun by not calling everyone’s attention to it. But I give him my best smile. “I’m fine. My first day.” Now he returns the smile. “Ah, I understand. Well, come on up here and I’ll show you where you’ll need to go.” Nothing for it now but to go with him. He seems all right. “I’m Mr. Benson,” he says, his smile seemingly stuck to his face. “I’m one of the Deans, but I hang around in the cafeteria and student commons a lot, so you’ll probably see me there.” “Nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Carly Lannigan. Just moved here from near Chicago.” Mr. Benson is around forty, trim, with short hair graying around the temples. He doesn’t look at all severe though; not like a military kind of guy. More just like someone who takes care of himself. I know exactly what I look like to him: a long-haired redhead in that red skirt and white blouse, no makeup which I should have put on to hide the freckles that are already appearing from the sun, and inexpensive sandals. In other words, I look like every other teenage girl, at least up north. In California, if the kids I saw entering the building are any judge, the girls are all fashion models. My problem, though, is that I’m most definitely not. Either a fashion model or normal. I can wish for it all I want, but it just ain’t going to happen. Which is why I’m standing here in the main office of a new school thousands of miles across the country from my old one, in a town where I know no one and no one knows me. I’d say I intend to hide in the crowd here, but it isn’t true. No can do, amigos. That’s for some other chiquita. “But Carly,” Mom said, “it caused you such distress at your last school. We could at least try to keep it to ourselves, couldn’t we? It’s your life, but why does anyone else have to know anyway?” She was standing in our new kitchen surrounded by unpacked boxes, leaning over the breakfast counter on the opposite side from where I was sitting and eating a sandwich: my incredible “Welcome to California” meals were all pretty much like this before we unpacked enough to do some real grocery shopping. One box was open; there were glasses with random colors swirled on them sitting near the sink. “Your timing is perfect, Mom, to ask that question, as it happens.” “What do you mean?” I shook my head. “Breathe deeply, Mom. You’ll know.” She took a deep breath and suddenly screwed up her nose. “Oh.” I nodded. “Right. And that will happen no matter what. And happen and happen and happen. So they’ll know, all right, Mom. But this time, they’ll know on my terms.” Mr. Benson leaves me with a big, friendly blonde woman. The placard on her desk says her name is Mrs. Girard. She explains how my schedule will work, where I need to go to get books, and some other things. She tells me that if it had been the start of the term there would have been an orientation meeting for new students, but as that was last week I’ll need to start the day with my counselor. “Are there that many of us?” I ask with a smile. “You’d be surprised,” she says. “We always seem to have our share.” She’s laughing so easily with me that I almost hope she doesn’t scan too far down the schedule to see what I know will be there. But of course she does. The look on her face twists into a register of surprise, then almost immediately covers it back up. “I’m seeing here that you have some...medical issues? Maybe you’ll also need to know where the nurse’s office is?” My smile doesn’t fade; I hold it steady. Here goes. “That would be very nice, Mrs. Girard. I am in fact completely incontinent, and I’m in need of a diaper change right now. Could you show me the way?” I watch her eyes as I say that: she’s stunned, to be sure. She’s never heard a high school kid––or anyone, probably––acknowledge her incontinence or her diaper wearing so boldly and publicly before. Well, get used to it, Sister, because I aim to change all of that. I tried the “I’m ashamed so I hide it” route at my last school, but they found out anyway and it was terrible. “Carly?” Daria taps me with her pencil and I turn around at my desk, hoping Mrs. Garcia won’t notice. Not that it matters; we’re the two best students in her class. “What?” She glances downward, in the direction of my chair. At first I have no clue what she means. Then I do. I can feel the wetness on my outer thighs and along my lower back: places it isn’t supposed to be. Shit! Daria’s a good friend, but she’s staring at me, looking for some explanation for something I have no explanation for. Suddenly I feel something running down my leg: I’m still wetting! And I know instinctively what is happening below me: it’s running down my pants leg and, since I don’t feel it in my sock, that means it’s ending up–– “Did you just wet yourself?” Tricia’s voice, behind me and to the right. She has a great view under my desk, and she really doesn’t like me. I see her pull out her phone, keeping it under her desk so the teacher won’t see. I’m done for. I don’t need anything weird to get me; I’m going to do a great job doing myself in. Not this time. I’m calling the shots. And as embarrassing as it is, I’m in diapers and I intend to freaking own it. No one can use against me what I openly admit to. I honestly don’t know how this is going to work out, but heck: it’s worth a try. And if anything else...any other problems...have followed me here...well at least the diapers won’t be a distraction this time. If that had been the case in Elmdale, maybe Marissa would still be alive.
  16. I’m interested in possibly meeting someone from the western Toronto suburbs.
  17. Hello all hope your are all well.Ive signed up today to share my story. Recently I have had a life changing incident. I was hit by a car whilst riding my motorbike quite badly and am now a decent amount paraplegic and have become incontinent. im still in rehabilitation wearing permanent bladder drainages and am in a wheelchair permanently.Prior to the accident i was a closet ABDL and my partner nor anyone ever knew. i would wear abdl type diapers as often as i could and had trained myself to wet them. Id wear them under clothing and go out and enjoy the thrill of wearing secretly in public. I would also make effort to meet other people with similar interests.Now i feel lost. I no longer have the freedom to be how i once was. In almost half a year I have not worn a diaper except for once in the hospital until they stopped that because its apparently bad for my skin and put me on a drainage bag.. I know its a pretty complex question, but does anyone have any advice or maybe experience that could help me in my abdl life? Anyone in or have been in a similar situation
  18. Heya, having suffered with incontinence my whole life I made a pact with myself (see "Living with Incontinence" post) to not let my disability stop me from doing anything. I found that going to the beach however did prove one of the hardest past times to enjoy properly. I just wanted to share how I manage and hopefully get an insight in how other genuinely incontinent people (hopefully females as to get some tips) go about enjoying themselves there. First things first I'm not a massive swimmer which does make things easier as the range of adult swim protection is limited and only really caters for
  19. I've written many stories, but this is the first I've posted here. It's a one-off. Anna lay still, not daring to move an inch lest she give away her hiding place. She knew they were out there; she could hear them easily enough and even see them occasionally as they moved in and out of her vision, shadowy figures gliding past, their legs barely visible through the multicolored haze that surrounded her. She was safe, she knew. If she didn’t move they would never know she was here, and if they didn’t know she was here then nothing could happen. Anna very much appreciated life when nothing happened, so she held her breath whenever they walked past, speaking in their low voices that occasionally sounded like laughter. Anna knew of nothing in particular worth laughing about, not that she would have joined in if she had: safety was everything, and in here she was safe. The voices receded into the distance and she did not hear anything more for a long time. Were they really laughing? Sound played tricks on her in here; that she knew from past experience. Light and sound didn’t act normally. But laughter? Seriously? She wasn’t sure of the last time she— Anna replayed her last thoughts. Serious laughter, she considered: what on earth would that even be? There had been no sound at all anywhere near her for a long time, nor had there been any disturbance of the light that could indicate movement. She could not hide here all day; she had to move. Slowly, gingerly, she allowed one hand to sift through the leaves next to her face, pulling back only as many as she needed in order to be sure. When she knew she was alone in the yard, she rose up, casting the huge pile off of her as easily as she might have thrown off a blanket. Her sister and her friend had not found her, but now leaves were scattered everywhere nearby, covering previously raked spaces. Gonna have to go over that again, she thought. But before she had the chance to reach for the tool, she heard the door opening up on the deck behind her. “Anna,” her mother’s voice called. “Are you out here?” Not wishing to give her hiding space away, she stepped from behind the apple tree into the light where her mother could see her. “Oh, there you are,” her mother said with a sigh. “You’ve been jumping in the leaves again?” Anna stopped in her tracks. How did she know? Her quizzical look must have alerted her mother. “It’s no mystery, Honey,” the woman at the door said. “The leaves in your hair are a dead giveaway every time.” Anna’s hands automatically reached up and started plucking yellow and orange leaves from her hair. Damn this curly hair anyway, she thought. If it were straight, like Marcy’s, they wouldn’t stick. “Marcy said she didn’t see you out there,” her mom said. “Did you go somewhere else?” Anna forced a small smile. “No, Mom,” she said. “You know Marcy. She was with Allison; probably she wasn’t paying much attention.” Her mom nodded. It was true: when her older sister was with her friends, her mind did tend to become preoccupied. “Well, come on in,” she said. “It’s just about dinner time and you probably need a change before we eat.” “Sure, Mom,” Anna said as her mother moved back into the house. But she wished she hadn’t brought up the diapers. Of course she needed a change. She’d been outside for hours; when hadn’t she needed a change after such a time? But she was almost thirteen. Shouldn’t she be able to handle that stuff on her own? On the other hand…there was the secret upstairs in her room, on her computer, the one secret of hers that the family knew nothing about. Maybe I’m just a walking contradiction, she thought as she opened the door and stepped into the house. * * * * * * “All cleaned up?” her mom asked as she stepped into the dining room. Anna rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom. Fresh as a newborn babe.” Her mother turned to her. “It bothers you when I ask that, doesn’t it?” Anna shrugged. “A little, I guess. I mean I’m kind of old enough now to deal with it myself, don’t you think?” Walking contradiction: Mom, I’m so mature that you should let me take care of my own diapers. Yeesh Her mom smiled. “I forget sometimes, Sweetie. And when I say something it’s only out of concern, not out of lack of trust. You know that, right?” “Yeah,” she nodded, grabbing some silverware to help her mother finish setting the table. “Sometimes I just get frustrated is all.” The late afternoon light filtered in through the open windows, giving the entire room a life it only had a couple of times each day. Right now it was bouncing off of a glass mobile in the corner, creating some interesting colored reflections on the wall that pulled Anna’s attention. “Spoons on the other side, Hon.” She looked down. She’d done it again. Why couldn’t she get that right? It wasn’t rocket science. But she swore that if getting into eighth grade depended upon knowing how to set a table properly, they’d bust her back to pre-school. At least I’d be dressed for it, she thought, and a rare small grin crept onto her face. “What’s that smile?” her mother asked. Wow. She doesn’t miss a thing. “I was...just enjoying the rainbow on the wall,” she said, noticing that the reflection had coalesced into a true rainbow as the sun passed through the glass. Her mother looked at it too. “Beautiful,” she said, before going back to work in the kitchen. Grownups never have time to appreciate anything, Anna thought, her mind once more slinking back to her computer. It’s no wonder… “Anna?” her mother called. “Yeah, Mom?” “Go tell Sonia that we’re about to be eating. I think she’s in the playroom.” Anna smiled. She loved anything to do with her little sister. Truth be told she loved both of her sisters, but while being with Marcy always reminded her of the impending responsibilities of growing up, being with Sonia was the reverse: sometimes she spent hours just doing whatever Sony wanted to do, whether it was watch one of her shows or play with her dolls or whether. A barely-eight-year-old’s life was so much less complicated. More and more lately she’d found herself wishing she could simply trade places with Sony. That had never been more true than in the weeks after the divorce. She’d been ten then, and Sonia only five, and the younger girl didn’t really comprehend the ramifications of their parents’ constant arguing, didn’t know where it was going to lead them. Most of all, though, Sony didn’t have to deal with the knowledge that the whole terrible thing was her fault. Most kids think that and it’s an exaggeration of sorts. Not so for Anna. She’s overheard enough loud fights to know the truth: Dad left because of her. More precisely, he left because of her diapers. It was just too much, he had said. He thought she’d outgrow it, but she hadn’t, and now here she was, going into middle school in diapers. She heard her mom say once that it was not a judgement about his manhood that his daughter was incontinent, but from his response she knew that he thought it was. “I can’t keep doing this,” he said. “It’s so...frustrating.” “Imagine what it’s like for her!” her mother had cried. “I do,” he had yelled. “All the freaking time. And it’s killing me. Like somehow I’ve failed.” After that, she had known the divorce would come, and clung to Marcy for support, but secretly wished for the sweet oblivion of Sonia’s life, a life where pain and anger and yelling in the other rooms could be ignored as if it were no more real than a Pixar movie. Perhaps it was then, she thought, that she started to wonder what it would be like. She knew it had taken a few years longer before she got curious enough to explore it, and when she did she was so grateful that her mother had not put parental guards on her internet. “Teen Babies?” Kids who liked to dress in diapers? Kids who liked to pretend they were little just because little meant fewer responsibilities? She read some letters and stories and found a Tumblr or two with pictures: it was a world she had not dreamed could exist, one where she actually fit. Except...did she want to live that way? She had to wear the diapers, but the rest? The clothing? The pacifiers? The other things associated with toddlerhood? Why would she want those? She looked in on Sonia in the playroom, playing with some Legos in the corner where there was a huge Lego table for building things. She watched quietly for a bit and really wanted to join in, but she knew why she was there. “Sony, Mom says it’s dinner time.” The younger girl looked up and beamed. “Anna!” she said, dropping her Legos and racing across the room to embrace her sister. “Where were you today? I wanted to play with you but I couldn’t find you anywhere!” Anna’s face turned pink as she recalled her fantasy adventures in the leaf pile alone. “Sorry, Punkin,” she said. “I’ll play with you after dinner, OK?” “Promise?” “I absolutely promise.” * * * * * * School was always the least favorite part of her day, which was, she knew, completely normal, but it was the reason that might be a bit unusual. Basically, she hated going to the nurse’s office for diaper changes. At home, she could change her own, but at school, “for insurance purposes,” the nurse had to do it. And then there had been the messy accidents—infrequent to be sure but enough that her face turned twelve shades of red simply seeing the nurse in the hall. No, Anna hated school and was always happy when she got off the bus at home. Today, she’d had a fresh diaper right before last period, so she didn’t need to change when she got home. Instead of going inside, then, she went straight to her favorite place. God I’m going to miss this when Mom has the leaves cleared away. She’d raked it all back together last night, and it still looked OK, so she went up onto the deck, put her backpack on the chair in the corner, and climbed onto the bench that served as a wall. Positioning herself just right, she turned and faced the house, then let herself fall backwards like a trust fall, but it wasn’t a group of peers who’d catch her. It was the leaves. After a momentary free fall, she felt them: the impact of a million tiny crinkly edges on her jacket and pants and head. With a whoosh! she sank deep into the pile, which closed in on top of her as she fell. She knew that some leaves had scattered as always; she also knew that, lying inside the leaf pile, she was utterly invisible. So she should have made herself known when the door opened and her mother came out, agitated, talking on the phone. She was going to, she told herself later, until she heard the word “diapers” and froze in her tracks. The conversation was about her; she needed to hear it. “Yes, Roger, she still wears diapers,” her mother was saying, her voice angry. Dad? What is he calling for? She didn’t even know her parents still spoke. All she ever hears her mother do is complain to her stepfather Mark about what a horrible man she had married before him, how he never even paid the child support he was supposed to. “Why do you even care? You made it more than clear that you didn’t want to deal with it, and you haven’t.” There was a pause. Anna breathed in the musky leafy air, waiting. “Well I don’t really care what you think. No. If you want me to care, maybe send me some of your back child support. You’re lucky Mark makes what he makes or you’d be in jail.” Another pause. “No, the doctors say it is permanent, but they’ve never found a cause.” Me again. My damned problem. If only I could—”What? Of course she isn’t doing it on purpose! Don’t be ridiculous!” What is he suggesting? How could he think that? “No,” her mother continued, “I haven’t ever heard of that. But how does Brenda know Jenny is doing it intentionally. No, I haven’t. They like what? Well I assure you that’s not our Anna: she simply has no control. She never has and you damn well know it. Now stay out of my life unless you want to send some money.” There was no more talking, but it was clear that her mother had sat down at the table from the creak of the plastic. “Anna?” she asked. Maybe if I’m completely still… “Anna, I know you’re in the leaves. I see your backpack here.” Anna sighed. Nothing for it but to come out. She shrugged off the leaves as she stood and wandered back onto the deck to sit with her mom. “I guess you heard all of that?” her mother asked. Anna nodded. Please don’t ask. PLEASE don’t ask. “Your father told me something odd about the daughter of one of his oldest friends. Do you remember Jenny Harbaugh?” Maybe if I just stay mute this won’t go where it seems to be going. She nodded again briefly. Her mother looked at her quizzically. “Are you all right, Honey?” Another nod wasn’t going to work, so Anna said a simple, “Yes.” Her mother’s expression didn’t change. “Well,” she said, “it seems that she has developed a problem much like yours over the past couple of years.” Again calculating that she needed to speak, Anna said, “that sucks for her.” “Watch your language, Anna.” “Sorry.” “Anyway, her mother made a bizarre discovery this week on Jenny’s computer. Apparently Jenny has been doing all of this on purpose in order to get put back in diapers. She is something called a Teen Baby.” This time there was absolutely nothing Anna could say, so she just kept quiet, her mother studying her face. “You’ve heard of this, haven’t you, Honey?” Anna closed her eyes. Why did you have to ask? Anna did not lie to her mother; her father had done that enough for a lifetime. Right now, she sighed. And she nodded. Her mother’s head returned the nod ever so gently. “If I went onto your computer right now, would I find Teen Baby stuff?” This time, Anna looked at her mother directly. “It’s not like what you’re thinking,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m thinking?” her mother asked. “You’re thinking I’m a liar like Jenny, that I’m just pretending to, I don’t know, get attention.” Her mother smiled gently. “I wasn’t thinking that.” “Then what?” “I was wondering if I had somehow missed the fact that my little girl wanted to stay little and not have to act so grown up.” They sat in silence for a few moments. Anna picked the few remaining leaves out of her hair and her mother waited for her to make the next move. Whatever it was, she would need to write the script. She sighed again. “I found the TB stuff—” “TB?” “Teen Baby. I found it a little more than a year and a half ago at a really low point, Mom. I mean I was in diapers and I was in Middle School. You can’t even imagine how that made me feel. And it isn’t as if I can keep it a complete secret; these things are thick. Other kids know.” Her mother reached across the small table to take her hand. “You’ve never told me this, Anna. Do they tease you? Bully you?” Anna shook her head. “Nothing like that, at least not yet. But I worry about it all the time, you know? If the wrong kids found out… Anyway, I was feeling sorry for myself and I never want to bother you because...because of Dad.” “Oh my God, Honey,” said her mother. “It isn’t your job to protect me. Besides, you know Mark more than makes up for your father.” Anna smiled. “I know. But he’s really only been here these last couple of years. And I really like him, I do. It’s just...I sort of owe you because of Dad.” “Don’t even think that!” her mother said more sharply than she probably wanted to. “You are one of the three most precious things in my life, Honey. The fact that your father could not see that makes him a jerk. It does not make you responsible in any conceivable way.” They were both crying now, and Anna crawled across into her mother’s lap. After a few more moments of her mother stroking her hair, she looked up into her mother’s face. “I liked the TB stuff, Mom...my. I liked it because in my mind it made it seem OK to need the diapers.” Her mother, who had clearly noticed the “Mommy,” stayed quiet for a while. Then she said, “It’s Thanksgiving weekend. Do you want to try it and see how it feels for real?” * * * * * * “Anna, how come you’re wearing my clothes?” Sonia asked her sister as Anna wandered down into the playroom to join her in whatever activity the younger (Is she still younger?) sister determined. The frizzy-haired 7th-grader was wearing a pair of her sister’s Osh Kosh B’Gosh pink overalls and a t-shirt with Ninja Turtles on its long sleeves. Fortunately for her, she was the smallest girl in her class, so they fit fine. To complete the picture she had two bows in her hair. Their mother, following Anna into the room, answered for her. “Sony, Anna’s feeling kind of little this week so she wanted to wear clothes more suitable for how she feels. In fact, because she still wears diapers, she’s actually littler than you today, so I need you to be a big girl and tell Mommy when she needs a change.” Sonia looked very confused. Anna’s diapers were a simple fact around the house, but no one actually talked about them, and now her mommy wanted her to, what exactly? “Do you understand, Sweetheart?” Sonia shook her head slowly. Anna smiled as she plopped her padded rear next to her sister. “Just ask me once in awhile if I’m wet. I might be playing so hard I forget to think about it. And if I’m very wet, get Mommy so she can change me.” “But you change yourself.” “Not this week, Sony. Like Mommy said, I’m feeling little.” “Oh,” said Sonia, and turned her attention back to her coloring. Then, suddenly, she looked back at her sister. “You’re not too wet now, are you?” Anna’s smile was enormous. “No, Sony. Thanks for checking.” “Da nada.” Sonia had been learning Spanish in 3rd grade and liked throwing in random phrases when she thought of it. Sometimes, like now, she even got one right. “Can I color too?” Anna asked her. Sonia looked at her sister. “Usually you read while I color.” Anna smiled widely. “I wanna color today.” Sonia handed her a book and moved the crayons between them, and the two girls sat peacefully coloring for the longest time. Once in awhile, one would finished a picture she was particularly proud of and show it off to an enthusiastic review by the other. After Sonia had completed her third page, though, she stopped coloring and just watched her sister, who was happily busy at the moment with a series of light purples coloring a unicorn’s tail. As she looked, she thought she could see something odd. “Anna?” Without looking up or stopping, Anna answered, “Yeah?” “How wet are you?” They’d been there way too long for Sonia to presume that Anna could be dry, and Anna understood immediately. She reached her hand down to the side of her overalls, and there was definitely moisture there. “Oh dear,” she said. Sonia nodded and scrambled to her feet, heading for the stairway to the kitchen. “Mommy!” she yelled up the stairs. “Anna’s really wet.” A moment later their mother appeared. The dark stain on the overalls was visible from the stairway. “Oh my. You really are being little, aren’t you?” Her middle daughter smiled at her. “You said I could.” “And I meant it. But now let’s get you upstairs to change that overflowing diaper and get you into some dry clothes. And then maybe you need a nap” As they started up the stairs, Sonia asked, “Can I watch? I never had a little sister before.” Their mother looked at Anna. “Well?” Anna smiled. “It’s up to you, Mommy. I’m just little.” * * * * * * Her stepfather was sitting beside her on her bed when she woke up. “Hi, Princess,” he said. She smiled. She loved the nickname, which he had given her on the very first day he had met her, that day two years ago then her mom had brought him home and she had been wearing her Princess Leia pajamas. Ever since, she’d been “Princess,” and it made her feel both happy and cared for. “Hi, Mark,” she said. He made an exaggerated expression that looked like it could be a wince. “Mark? I thought that was what BIG Anna called me. Aren’t you LITTLE Anna?” She smiled, considering. “Hi, Daddy Mark,” she said. Her stepfather joined her smile. “That’s better,” he said. “Maybe we can work on making it just ‘Daddy’ one of these days, but that will certainly do for now. Tell me, Princess, do you need a change?” She felt a momentary panic; she hadn’t counted on Mark changing her. It must have been clear on her face because he spoke quickly. “Hey, I’m just the one asking,” he reassured her. “If you do, your mom will handle things.” She smiled, relieved. “Oh. Right. Sorry, I just…” He stroked her hair. “No apologies needed, Princess. So, do you?” “Uh huh,” she said quietly. “OK,” he said. “I’ll get her in a minute. But I wanted to talk to you about something first.” This was new. He sounded as if he was going to say something serious, which was so rare as to be...almost unheard of. Anna felt queasy. He had seemed so comfortable with her Little thing a moment ago; now he was going to “talk” to her about it? This can only mean something bad. She braced herself. “About what?” He continued the light stroking. “Honey, your mom and I have been talking.” Of course. Too good to be true. She’s letting Mark do the dirty work. Well it was fun for a day anyway. “We’re wondering if all of this...the Little thing...might be the result of your not having a father for so long.” What? “And we’ve been talking about it anyway, and I...we...ah heck: I want to adopt all of you officially, Anna. I want you to be my actual children.” Anna was stunned. That was not at all where she thought that was going. She really liked Mark, but she had not ever thought about adoption. Yet now she found herself smiling. “You like the idea?” Her smile growing, Anna turned toward her stepfather and threw herself at him. “I guess I can take that as a ‘yes’?” “Yes! Definitely yes, Daddy Mark,” she said into his shoulder. This just felt right. A family. A real family. Wow. Her arms were wrapped so tightly around him that he had to peel her off. “I’m glad you think it’s good, Princess. Your mother—um, mommy—and I have been talking about it, and we thought that today’s revelations might make this a perfect time. And for the record: I have no problem at all with your needing to be little. I think we all should stop and be little once in awhile. The world would probably be a better place.” Anna didn’t think her face had any more room to smile. “Thank you,” she said. She found there were tears in her eyes. “I love you...Daddy.” Now they were both crying, but neither seemed to care. He picked her up and carried her out of the room, calling for his wife to attend to the little one’s diapers. It was the start, she could sense it, of something wonderful. * * * * * * After Thanksgiving dinner, a dinner in which Anna happily played the part of youngest child, even going so far as to eat her pumpkin pie with her fingers and get it all over her face—of course, Sonia saw this and needed to copy it, and they both ended up making huge messes that made everyone else laugh—the two youngest children ended up in the family room watching cartoons while the adults and Marcy cleaned up. Marcy had been taken aback at first when she learned about Anna’s regression, but after consideration it sort of made sense to her. Her sister had always acted so much younger than her age, and was having so much trouble socializing in school—probably due to the bladder issues—that revisiting toddlerhood didn’t seem so far-fetched. Besides, she had just read something about it in her Introduction to Psychology class. Regression was not even all that uncommon. Anna caught bits and pieces of the kitchen conversation during the cartoon, which she’d seen before, so she understood that her sister supported her too, and she could not believe her luck: a whole family willing to allow her to act little again at home. Maybe she could get through Middle School after all. After a while, Marcy came into the family room. “Do you need a change, Anna?” she asked. Anna knew she hadn’t been changed for several hours, so the answer had to be yes, but she suddenly had the devil in her. “Dunno,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “What do you mean you don’t know?” “Dunno. I’m just little.” Marcy rolled her eyes. “Really? That far, eh? OK, then, Little Anna, get your tiny buns over here so I can check your diaper.” Anna smiled and got to her feet, then ambled over to the couch where her sister was seated and stood before her, presenting herself. Marcy reached out and grabbed the elastic waistband of her (actually Sonia’s) pants, pulled it out, and reached in to feel the diaper. It was soaked. “You’re drenched.” “Better get Mommy to change me then.” Marcy sighed, but rose and went upstairs. Moments later, she returned with diapering supplies. “Mom says I should do it; she’s getting ready to go to a movie.” Marcy changing her diaper? That was not something Anna had considered. Well why not? She’s like a babysitter. I can do this. Marcy spread out her sister’s changing pad on the floor and told her to lie down; Anna obeyed. Reaching out, Marcy grabbed Anna’s legs and slid the pants off of them, exposing the wet diaper. “Now can you raise your legs for me or do I need to hold them up?” Anna smiled. “I can raise them. I’m little, not a baby.” “OK then. Raise them.” As Anna raised her legs she became aware that Sonia was watching. This was the second time her little sister had witnessed a diaper change, but the first time it had been on the floor. Upstairs, it was always on her bed. Apparently Marcy had noticed as well, because once she had the soggy diaper off she turned to the youngest sister and asked, “Would you hand me a couple of those wipes, Sony?” Sonia beamed. She loved being included, and being included in this clearly made her somehow above Anna in the pecking order. It was fun. She gave Marcy the wipes. “Thanks. Now the powder.” Marcy spread out a fresh diaper and let Anna lower herself onto it part way. When Sonia tried to hand her the powder, though, she smiled. “You do it,” she said. Anna blushed deeply. She was being changed not only by Marcy, but by Sonia. “Really?” asked the youngest girl. As her big sister nodded, she slid open the powder and started shaking it over the diaper and Anna’s bottom, giving it a generous amount as she had seen her mother do yesterday before she stopped. “Nicely done!” said Marcy. “You’re a pro. You’ll be a fine babysitter when you grow up.” Sonia giggled and pointed to Anna. “I’m a fine babysitter already.” Marcy laughed and Anna blushed again. “Now, now. You heard her: not a baby. Little.” Marcy finished taping up the diaper as she spoke and told the others to go back to their cartoons while she put the supplies away. The cartoons were engrossing, but turkey dinners make you tired. Before too long, both younger girls were passed out on the carpet in front of the TV. * * * * * * When she awoke, the first thing Anna noticed were the bars. Her head was right up against them, and she was sure that she had never seen them before now. Trying to focus after her nap, she followed them: white bars that radiated away from her, moved in a hexagonal shape, then came back to where she was. She’d dreamed something like this; was she dreaming? There were a few toys and coloring things with her inside of the bars. This isn’t a dream. It’s too clear, too specific. She raised her head a little. She was still on the floor of the family room, and the bars surrounding her were from Sonia’s old playpen, a folding contraption you could set up anywhere to keep the toddler contained. I’m in a playpen? How? Why? “Mark thought you might like this,” Marcy’s voice said from behind her. She whipped around to see her sister sitting on the couch with a book in her hand: her Psychology textbook. “He set it up before they went to the movies, but if you don’t like it I can take it down.” My daddy put me in a playpen, Anna thought. I’m just little, and my Daddy put me in a playpen. “Anna?” “Oh,” she said, realizing she needed to respond. “No, it’s fine. It’s...nice.” Marcy shook her head, smiling. “You’re weird.” “I know,” Anna said and moved toward the coloring books. “Where’s Sony?” “She’s in bed for real. It’s 8:30.” “Wow, I napped for a long time.” “I know. Do you need a change?” Anna knew she could play Little and have Marcy check her, but she decided just to tell her. “No, I’m OK. Damp but it can wait.” “OK, then. Since you just woke up, Little One, you don’t need to go to bed yet. So just color for awhile, OK? Then maybe we can watch a Disney movie.” Anna smiled and started to work on that unicorn some more. It was a very complicated unicorn. And just at that point, the doorbell rang. She looked up. “Who the heck could that be at this hour?” Marcy asked, rising. “Just play, Honey. I’ll get it.” She walked out of the room and toward the front door. Anna heard it open. “What are you doing here?” she heard her sister say. A deep voice, one she had almost forgotten, one that was slurred with drink, responded. “I came to shee for myshelf. I don’ trus’ your mother.” Dad! Why on earth was he here after all of this time? “You can’t come in,” Marcy said. “You gave up your rights here years ago.” Anna’s flesh was crawling. She looked around for a place to hide, but the reality was that she didn’t know how to unlatch the playpen and she didn’t think her legs were long enough to step over it without tripping. There were blankets someone had placed over her while she was sleeping; maybe she could hide under those. She made herself as small as possible and pulled them over her. “You can’ shtop me, Marshy. You’re shtill my kid. And so is she.” Anna heard something fall, heard Marcy scream. And then the footsteps were right in the room with her. “I knew’t! I knew’t!” he cried. “She’s one of ‘em. Ish all a game. Izhn’t it, Anna? A game?” She felt the blanket being torn away from her, looked up at her father’s reddened face holding it. She saw Marcy come from behind him and start hitting him. “Go away!” she was saying. “Leave her alone!” With a quick whip of his arm, he tossed his eldest daughter hard into the base of the couch. She crumpled and whimpered. He glanced, apparently decided she wasn’t going to die, and turned his attention back to Anna. “Ish a pretend, right? Teen baby? Probly shtopped really needing those things a long time ago.” “No, no,” she protested, but he wasn’t hearing it. “I’ll show you what it ish to be a baby. And you won’t want to be one anymore!” He grabbed her above her crying protests and dragged her to the door. Marcy was still collapsed on the floor near the couch, struggling to find her bearings. He turned to Anna. “You make one shound right now or act in any way like you don’ wanna be wit me, you’ll regret it, Missy. Unnerstan’?” She nodded, terrified, and they walked out the door to his car. The only thing Anna could do was pray that a cop would notice him driving drunk, but none did. Of course, they’d come for her right away; they knew where he lived. That did provide a bit of comfort. But she could never remember seeing him like this: so drunk, so angry, so violent. They drove for a long time, and even though she was frightened her body took over and Anna fell asleep. When she awoke, she knew four things right away: she was very wet, she was now sitting in what seemed to be a somewhat large toddler’s car seat instead of on the car‘s seat itself, the car had stopped, and this was a motel, not his house. Her rising panic told her that none of these things, at this moment, was good. Her door opened. “Le’s go,” he said, his voice less slurry now but no less harsh. She climbed out of the seat and went with him into Room 2. “Room 2,” he said as they went through the door. “Easy for you to remember, Anna, because that is precisely how old you are going to be as long as you are here.” “What?” she asked, trembling. “You heard me,” he said. “I know all about you Teen Babies.” “But I’m not a—” “Save it,” he said. “I know what I saw. But iss OK, Little Girl: you won’t want to be a Teen Baby when I’m done with you.” She shuddered. What did he mean? And then she saw it. Room 2 was actually a suite, and in the small second room he had set up a crib. A real crib. And there was also a real changing table stacked with diapers—not the plain white ones she’d been wearing for awhile but ones that had babyish pictures on them. There was also a small playpen and, weirdest of all, there was a high chair in the room. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. “If you knew me you’d know I don’t kid.” “And whose fault is it that I don’t know you?” He slapped her across the face. “I don’t want any sass. Right now I can see that you’re very wet, so get up on that table.” Stinging from both the shock and the pain of the slap, she did as she was told. He took off her pants and diaper surprisingly gingerly and cleaned her well with wipes before powdering her and putting a new diaper—with toy blocks on it—on her. “OK, get down.” She was puzzled. “What about clothes?” “Are you cold?” he asked. “No,” she answered honestly. “Well, then,” he said. “You’re two. Two year olds can wear just diapers on their bottoms in the house.” Hopping down, she pointed to the room. “This isn’t a house.” “It’s what you have, so don’t be a smart-ass. And while I’m at it: two year olds don’t actually talk much either. A few nonsense words, that’s all. So that’s what you’re limited to from now on.” “That’s ridic—” She stopped at a vicious look from her father. “Good. Now let me make things completely clear. I know you can’t pass as two, but you can pass as seven or eight. I’ve told the hotel that I have a seven year old with brain damage who’s exactly like a two year old in every way except height. So when the cleaning people come in, if we’re here, you’ll act as they expect you to. Clear?” Anna fumed. “I promise you will be sorry if you don’t. Shouldn’t be too hard anyway, since this is kind of a dream come true for you.” “But it—” He swatted her hard twice through her diaper, and to her surprise it hurt. “If you wanna get spanked without the diaper, just keep it up.” She nodded. “Good again. Right now it’s time for little one’s din-din. So climb up into your high chair like a good girl.” The whole thing was ludicrous, but she had no choice. As she got into the chair, he opened a cabinet and took out a couple of jars of baby food along with a bib and a rubber-coated spoon. Turning back, he buckled her in and clicked the tray in place. Then he set the jars down on it and tied the bib around his daughter’s neck. Sitting down next to her on the edge of a couch, he started spooning the food into her mouth. He had bought pleasant-tasting food, at least. One jar tasted like bananas and the other like some kind of meat, bland but fine; she had no trouble getting them down, though he insisted on feeding her so quickly that food inevitably dribbled down her chin. There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” he called over his shoulder. “Gino’s,” came the muffled voice from outside. He rolled his eyes. “Bad timing,” he said. “Don’t you touch this spoon.” He made his way to the door, paid for the medium pizza, and returned. Her eyes went large when she saw the pizza box. “Oh no,” he said. “That’s for me. Babies get what their daddies feed them, and tonight it’s turkey and bananas.” He shoveled another spoonful into her mouth before she could protest. When both jars were finished, he tossed them into the garbage can and opened the small fridge that came with the room to remove a baby bottle filled with milk. “Do you think you can handle this yourself? Or do I need to feed it to you?” She took it from him, stared at it for a minute, and then, because she was very thirsty, put it to her lips and started to suck. He sat back and watched. “You think you want this right now, and I get that. I’m basically a kind of wish fulfillment. But after a few weeks, or more, of doing nothing but eating baby food, drinking from bottles, playing with toddler toys, and pissing and shitting in diapers, what will you think? And this isn’t just going to be here, either. I’m not shutting myself up for weeks with you. We’ll be going on outings. Or didn’t you notice the stroller when you came in?” She noticed it now as he pointed: a slightly larger than average stroller, but one that looked exactly like every other she’d ever seen. He was going to take her out in public. But...then she’d be saved. Someone would be looking for her. They always were. She smiled around the bottle’s nipple. “Yeah,” he said, “you get to be a baby all the way. Your TB dream come true. And you’re going to hate it.” * * * * * * “This is Maria Espinoza with Channel 2 Breaking News. The four-month saga of kidnapped 13-year-old Anna Martino has come to a happy end this afternoon, as the missing child was discovered alive in a hotel room three states away. The kidnapper, Anna’s father Roger Martino, has not been located. Anna was very dehydrated and emaciated, but doctors at the local Immaculate Conception Hospital list her in guarded but fair condition. They expect a full recovery.” * * * * * * They were sitting on the deck overlooking the spacious back yard, where piles of leaves squatted in several colorful mounds. It was an unusually warm October day, and Marcy was out in the yard with the rake while her mother and the reporter chatted and sipped coffee. “It’s all so hard to comprehend,” the reporter said. “I get that,” came the reply. “What can I do to help?” “Well, OK. I know we’ve been over this piecemeal, but maybe walk me through it again slowly?” Anna’s mother shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first, fiftieth, or last time she’d tell the story. “Sure,” she said, and the reporter switched her recorder on. “You know that Marcy—that’s her with the rake—called me as soon as she was recovered enough.” “From Roger hitting her.” “Right. He knocked her hard against a couch. And she didn’t know what to do, so she called me and left a message because my phone was silent in the movie. When we got it—” “As soon as your movie ended.” “Yes. When we got it, I called her immediately, and when I understood what had happened, I called the police. They put an Amber Alert out right away, but as you know it was too late. No one knew he was in a rental car. No one knew he’d change it half way through his drive. No one knew he had already arranged that suite in the motel in Nebraska. Everyone was concentrating on him, his car, his house.” The reporter slowly sipped her coffee, a trick to calm her subject down: do something utterly normal. It worked. The somewhat frenetic pace and undertones faded away and the narrative returned to normal. “After that?” she asked. The woman shrugged. “After that, it was as if they had driven right off the face of the earth. No one had seen them. No one saw them. It was only much later that we understood how that could be.” “After Anna was found.” “Yes.” “Tell me about that.” “It was the hotel housekeeper. Roger had told them he only needed them once a week and gave them large tips not to disturb him, so they did as they were told. But it had been a week, and no one answered when she knocked, so she went in.” “And found…” “Anna. In that crib, wearing nothing but an overflowing diaper, caked with shit and piss. There were several empty bottles strewn about; he had not left her to die. But she was so weak all she could do was whine softly and suck on a pacifier.” The reporter was nonplussed. “That’s the part I can’t understand. I mean I get that the motel’s housekeeping believed she was a mentally ill seven-year-old, and that’s why no one ever put her together with the missing thirteen-year-old of the Alert, especially since her father had cut her hair so short. I get all of that. But how on earth could he just leave her like that? After he knew what his treatment had done to her?” Anna’s mom shook her head. “You know he was angry because he thought she was faking her incontinence. He thought she was a Teen Baby. From what he said when he took her, his goal seems to have been to break her of those desires by immersing her in forced babyhood. I have no clue whether that’s sound psychological reasoning or not, but it obviously backfired.” The reporter looked across the lawn, where Anna had just rolled out from inside one of the leaf piles, laughing loudly. “Instead he broke her.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes.” “Have you ever confirmed the rumors that he took her to malls and parks and places dressed like that, treating her that way?” Anna’s mom shook her head. “We’ve never found anyone who was sure, and the local mall records over their surveillance video every two weeks. But evidence suggests he did.” “Evidence?” “The stroller. And the fact that there was often no one in the room when housekeeping came.” More laughter from the yard. Anna was running around. She might have been chasing a butterfly, but it was so late in the season… “But somewhere along the line,” he mother continued, “something snapped. Maybe it was in that last several days when he left her all alone. Who knows?” “You never answered why he would do that. Any idea?” She nodded. “Actually, yes. We divorced after years of fighting about Anna’s incontinence. He couldn’t take it. I think that, when he discovered that she really, truly was incontinent, and that he may well have made it worse, since she had never been bowel incontinent before, well...I think he broke.” “That’s being generous,” said the reporter. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s way more than he deserves, but it is what I think.” Anna was running over to Marcy, who was still raking. From behind another pile, Sonia ran right up to her and intercepted her, calling “Te amo!” as she twirled Anna and they both fell into a giggly heap. “What does he deserve, do you think, when they catch him?” the reporter asked. “That’s not for me to decide,” she replied. The door opened behind them and Mark walked out. A big man, he totally dwarfed the women as they sat at the table. “Well, if I got to decide, I’d put him in a room with me for half an hour. And if there was anything left of him when time was up, I’d throw him in jail.” The reporter looked at him. “Is that on the record?” “Why not? That was my little princess he messed up.” Mark’s eyes shifted up to the yard, where Anna was now in Marcy’s arms, laughing hysterically, with Sonia looking on. “Hey, Marcy,” he called, “you be careful with her.” The older girl looked up at the deck and smiled. “Oh you know she loves this.” And with that she launched Anna into the air, careful that it would be her diapered rear that came down first into the huge pile of leaves. As Anna sank down, they could all hear her laughter continuing. “It always was her favorite thing to do,” her mother said. Then she called to the yard. “Does she need a change?” Marcy nodded. “I thought I smelled something stinky that time. I’ll bring her in.” As they bounded up the deck stairs, Mark reached down and Anna leapt into his arms. “Daddy!” she said with clear delight. “I got leaves!” “I know, Princess,” he said. “I saw you fly right into them. Now let’s go change that stinky diaper.” “K, Daddy. I fly more?” “We’ll see, Princess. We’ll see.” “Could I get a turn too?” Sonia asked. Mark smiled. “Of course you can, Sweetheart.” They disappeared into the house, along with Marcy, who had some schoolwork to do. The reporter turned to her subject. “There are gradations of ‘complete recovery,’ aren’t there?” Anna’s mom snorted. “I guess you could say that. But we love our little Anna, and even though they don’t think she’ll ever be the same as she once was, I don’t think we could love her more if she were. There’s something about a baby’s pure innocence, you know?” The reporter turned off her machine and finished her coffee. As they walked back through the house to the front door, she turned to Anna’s mom. “Off the record: if you had known all of this would happen, would you have indulged Anna in her need to be ‘Little’?” There was a pause. “Off the record or on: no, I wouldn’t have. She was leading a hard life before, and she’s perfectly happy now and may always be, but she had to suffer so much to get here. I can’t imagine making such a decision knowing the consequences. Besides, it will be a lot harder to be a thirty or forty year old baby than a fourteen year old one and I won’t always be here to keep her safe. No. I’d have told her to suck it up and we’d have argued and Mark would have taken her side and called her his Princess and...you know what? We’d end up in the same place.” “Fate,” said the reporter. Anna came running into the room at that moment and put her arms around her mother. “Love,” said her mother, and shut the door.
  20. Ive been on this site before and come back for another go and after reading a lot of posts etc. I decided to make one myself and tell you all a little about my story. Gather round, it might take a while. My name is Gemma, born and bred in the mountainous region of North Wales in the sunny British Isles. Im 27
  21. Just wandered, 'cause this is coming up and down every once in a while: Has anyone tried hypnosis? Does it work? It always seems like the things that aren't really working. General responses?
  22. From the album: Michael Gardner

    These are just pictures of me relaxing in my tee shirt and diaper. I look comfy don't I?
  23. Will be only way my family will be ok me wearing diapers if start having accidents but i don't think i want to do that.
  24. I just thought this information might be helpful for people that are trying to become incontinent or desire wearing a catheter while in a diaper. I found this site while I was looking for a better way to stretch my urethra.
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