Search the Community

So fair warning this is a very dumb story. Basic premise is that all lesbians are legally declared to be toddlers which is really a bribe to the superior pod humans who have a physical uncontrollable need to care for other people. Warnings: Forced diapering and use for their intended purpose. Forced groping Forced orgasms Non consensusual Dystopia Probably a few others. Without futhur ado here we go! Alice stepped nervously into the dark alleyway. She had just finished up her finals and knew she would be getting an A. She was very aware of the fact that she was one of but not the smartest in her college. However contrary to media intrepatation of smart women she was a fairly attractive 22 year old. With perky breasts, a cute face, and pale white skin. With baby blue eyes. Except she had a secret that could ruin everything. That would garuntee that not only would she never graduate but that she would spend all of eternity as a diaper wearing adult baby. That secret? She was lesbian. A fact that wouldn't have well okay it still mattered and could have still ruined her life. Regardless she had to be careful. She didn't like taking risks but she needed a masterbation session after finals and she couldn't do that without a bit of.... help. Her dealer eventually walked up to her. "About fucking time." Alice said not even bothering to hide her annoyance. She had been waiting for over an hour! "Sorry. I had to make sure no pigs were following me." "Forget it. Do you have the uh... goods?" "Only the best" Her dealer a ratty looking women wearing a long trench coat reached into said coat and pulled out various romance novels. Specifically lesbian smut romance novels. Even being cuaght with one as a women was seen as confirmation of being a lesbian. She took a minute to figure which ones she wanted. She only had enough money for one. With some deliberation she decided on a bondage story. That should get her off. "Ill take this one." She said and handed the ratty dealer a wad of cash. Just at that moment alarms blared. Two familiar cars that had plagued alices nightmares since she had first realized she was into girls. Bright pink vehicles with soft light and loud horns with the stencil on the side that proudly declared "D. L. p" Department of lamb protection. They had both sides of the alley locked down and both of them could do nothing but stare in horror as the forms of the pod people or "momies" stepped out of the vehicles. They were different but the same in specific aspects. Motherly. Inhumanly beautiful. With C cup breasts. Alice always had to surprise drool whenever she saw one. But she was too distracted by the realization that her life was now over.

Ch.1 One Month Prior Out of all the covert gatherings of small folk tucked away from the eyes of Willowford's Amazon population, The Little Secret was probably the best kept and most carefully guarded. It also happened to be Piper's favorite night of the month. A dance night just for Littles, that moved locations monthly, and anyone attending had to have learned the password through one message tree and the location through another that kept it so only free Littles could show up. Any Little who got the good words was guaranteed a night of partying where they wouldn’t have to worry about the danger that Amazon’s presented in their day to day lives. It was a basement dive bar that the organizers of The Little Secret, or TLS as most patrons had started calling it, had rented out for the night. Dust and grime coated the surfaces, a good sign to the Littles attending that whoever owned this hole in the wall wouldn’t care to come check in on it. The bar had step stools on either side for both patrons and bartenders to step up, make orders, and hand drinks back and forth. Every Little waited patiently for their turn on the ordering stool, knowing better than to start a fight. Amazon sized tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls and Little size tables and chairs had been set up in their place. No two chairs matched, the tables were scratched and damaged in ways that left no doubt that they had been saved from going to the dump, but no Little complained as they sat comfortably with drinks in their hands, idly stirring the cocktails with short black straws that had no bends or loops, and no Little had to worry about a bottle with a nipple being placed in their hands. It was a slightly wobbly table kept steady with an old text book that Piper and her friends had claimed as theirs for the evening. Piper had shown up in an outfit that made her feel like the star of the show. Usually, on a typical day in life as a Little, she wore plain, muted clothes so as to not draw attention to herself. Nights when TLS were happening were nights Piper got to play with her wardrobe. Her caramel brown hair was clipped up in just the right way to make her curls bounce with every step. She wore a black leather jacket with bright embroidered purple violets on the sleeves over top of a blue cami, both having come from the same thrift shop. Dark wash jeans and carefully cared for boots completed her look. Fashion was a language of its own, Piper always thought, and tonight she felt like she was saying “I’m confident and cool, and you can’t deny it.” “What about you, Piper?” Her table had been playing the classic Little thought game of How Do You Think It Will Happen’ “If you get Adopted, how do you see it happening?” Justice asked as he swirled his bourbon around in his glass. Sage, Romy, and Tyler waited for her answer. Each one of them wearing outfits that they wouldn’t be caught in the daylight wearing lest they be snatched and forcibly changed out of them. “Oh, you know me, Justice.” She paused to steal another glance at the blonde bombshell at the bar. “It’ll probably be because I convinced a hot Amazon milf to take me to bed and make me squirt. But only after making her squirt, of course.” That caused her friends to burst out in laughter, which gave Piper the best opportunity to get up with her empty glass of vodka cranberry and make her way over to the Blonde Little who had been returning Piper’s glances all night. A pick up line is more effective when you have the boisterous laughter of your friends to make you stand out. And it was a good night to dance with someone cute. Present If fashion was a language of its own, as Piper so often thought, then her fashion tonight was giving “Failed Little who pissed her pants and was now crying in front of the Amazon most likely to diaper and Adopt her.” This evening had started with Piper slamming back glasses of cranberry juice. Her last few trips to the Amazon sized toilet in her apartment, which were now looking to be her last trips to any sized toilet ever, had been painful. This will take care of it she had optimistically thought to herself as she committed to her home remedy. She was on her fourth glass when Steven, her Amazon neighbor across the hall in the quad-plex, had knocked on her door to use her hospitality and lament about how bad his latest romantic endeavor had gone. “Sure, come on in!” Piper had said through a plastered smile. A rule most Littles lived by was to not live next to Amazons at all, preferring small communities of other Littles. But if you couldn’t avoid it, like having an oblivious Amazon move into the apartment next to yours in what is mainly a Little and Tweener neighborhood, then be nice to their faces and try to keep interactions to a minimum. Nothing overly rude, as to not trigger their need to correct “bratty” behavior, and not overly familiar, lest they decide that you’re trying to be their sweet baby they can place on their hip. “...and then she said if I couldn’t ignore a call from my mother and wait until the end of the movie to call her back then maybe she and I should stop seeing each other.” A half hour later he was slumped on Piper's old, tattered couch giving a detailed description of his failed date. Piper was as far away from him on the other end light bouncing her knee to distract herself from the growing pressure in her bladder. Yeah, it’s not cute for a grown man to still be attached by the umbilical cord. “I’m so sorry that happened. But it’s getting late-” “I just don’t understand what’s so wrong about having a close relationship with your mother, I mean…” Steven obviously continued his monologue. A small whine escaped Piper and her hand twitched nervously in her lap. Her bladder was getting near “Hold Your Crotch” levels of aching, but she knew better than to make the vulgar display in front of an Amazon. Even one as lame as Steven. It’s fucking lame, Steven! Your date was right! That’s Little boy behavior to them! “Oh, yeah, you know. Not a lot of people value that connection between family nowadays. Now, if you would ex-” “You’re so right, Piper! Not a lot of people do value that connection between…” he rambled on, taking off his glasses to polish them. Piper’s bladder twitched and, despite her best efforts, spurted her panties with the tiniest bit of urine. That tiny bit of urine set her urethra on fire. Letting go of her composure to squirm, she let out a gasp and almost jumped off the couch. You can’t. Not with him. She crossed her legs tighter and vowed to hit any damp spot on the cushion with stain remover as soon as Steven was gone. Please just leave, please just leave, please just leave. “... and with elderly loneliness on the rise, it’s really important that we cherish these connections…” Steven continued his oblivious rambling. He wasn’t going to leave, and she wasn’t going to last. She let out a noise, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, as she felt one last sharp pain before the flood gates opened and she jumped off the couch. Tears, both of humiliation and pain from the intense burning as her overly full bladder released its contents down her pant legs, flowed down her face as Steven stared at her in genuine shock. He had been too absorbed in his own misery that he hadn’t picked up on her cues to get him out or to excuse herself. “Umm.” Steven broke the silence first, his eyes darting between her and the puddle at her feet. “Are you okay?” He looked genuinely concerned for Piper. Great. A sob wracked itself past Piper’s lips as she sorted through her thoughts. He’s such a loser that a Little pissing herself in front of him doesn’t make him spring into Daddy Amazon mode. “I hurt, - it hurts to-” another sob escaped from Piper and she took a moment to calm down and try to collect her thoughts. He hasn’t pulled out a diaper yet or put you over his knee, it’s not all over yet. “I had noticed some pain earlier using the restroom, and I was drinking cranberry juice to handle it tonight. But,” she choked back another sob as her bladder twitched in pain again, “First thing in the morning I’m going out to get some meds.” A half truth and a lie, she had planned on just calling the midwife who acted as nurse for this mainly Little and Tweener neighborhood on the east side of Willowsford only if a couple of days drinking only cranberry juice proved to be ineffective. “Oh” he blinked in sincere understanding, “You don’t have to wait until morning, the Urgent Care on Hudson is open twenty-four seven.” And in another blink switched right back to unaware Amazon. Just go back across the hall. “It’s a forty minute walk and it’s already nine. It will be the first thing in the morning I promise.” “You don’t have to walk, I can drive you!” Steven’s face lit up. It was never a good sign when an Amazon’s face lit up. Fuck fuck fuck “You really don’t have to, I promise I can take care of this tomorrow.” “No, it’s not a problem! It’s what friends do.” His head swiveled on his shoulders as he looked around her apartment and pointed towards the bathroom. “Do you have towels in there? We should probably put one underneath you.” He walked towards the bathroom before she could answer. Nonono “NO!” she panicked and screamed at him. He stopped, and turned to look down at her, causing her to panic even more. Shit, he’s going to go even more into Amazon mode. “I- I can just change pants, no need for a towel. I don’t want to risk staining your seats or the waiting room chair.” It was a gamble, but going in with wet pants was a surer nail in the coffin than just going in with dry pants and the story of having wet oneself. He smiled and pulled her faded pink towel off the rack. “You’re in pain, Piper.” He walked back and pocketed his phone. “We need to get you there fast. My seats will be fine, and I’m sure all the furniture there is made to be easy to clean. They have to see worse fluids on a daily basis.” Then he was holding her door open, making it clear that he expected her to walk to her death on her own two, currently soggy socks, feet. She stared down at her socks, all of the fight out of her. “Steven…” her damp pants were starting to feel cold, “My socks… I can’t put shoes on over these socks. It’s not like the Urgent Care is going to close… I have time to change.” Steven looked down at the shoe rack she kept near her door, and his face lit when he spotted what he needed to see. “You have those slide on sandals, those will be fine!” Piper sighed, fighting back the tears that threatened to send her into full blown sobbing, and grabbed the sandals.

Hii! I’m a 21 F lesbian abdl girlie. I’m looking for chats with other abdl girls! i’m a switch, i am padded too, and all girls can message!

Chapter 1: Sitting in this classroom I felt just as uncomfortable as every time I had done it for the last 6 months. I straightened out my pristine white blouse and straight grey skirt as best I could. If I had to be here I wanted to at least look presentable. Almost every factor of my life had been based on appearance, of wealth, of health, of extraordinary ability, but even with all my hard work I had one fatal flaw, like 12% of the people in this world I'm still not potty trained even at 27. I tried to focus on the teacher's lesson as she explained the finer details of sensing when it's time to go. Admittedly it was hard to understand, like explaining colours to a blind person. How was I supposed to know how to feel what I've never felt? What I did feel was the hot liquid flooding my diaper, now and everyday. I knew pee to be gross, but I also knew I had no way of controlling it. I felt it splash against the inside of my diaper than quickly get absorbed, sitting in that warm wet padding, I felt ashamed. Just then somebody new walked in. She was confident even though she was 20 minutes late. She had long wolf cut hair with a grungy outfit, an open plaid button up with a band tee underneath, cargo pants and combat boots. “Hello, welcome to class, and you are?" The teacher asked, looking at the list of students who paid for the class. “I'm Ash." The grungy woman grumbled, sitting at a desk. “Ashley Mondale?” "Yeah.” "Great. So Ashley.” "Ash.” She corrected her. "Ash.” The teacher seemed annoyed. “Today we're going over sensing when you need to go before it becomes an emergency. How far along are you in detecting your need to go?” Ash’s bravado seemed to vanish as she knew she had no good answer. “I uh I can sorta do it. I know when I need to go but it just happens." She mumbled. “Ok, so you can't hold it at all." The teacher took in the information. “I wanna learn though." Ash said defensively. “And you will in time, sweetheart. But you should arrive on time from now on. For today though I want you to stay after class for a solo lesson.” She turned to me. "Emma you too, since we're going over basic holding it and you still haven't mastered that. I think it'll be good for you to sit in.” "Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am.” I said, blushing that she exposed my secret in front of the whole 25 person class. The teacher spoke for a while longer. She showed a diagram of the bladder explaining recognizable pressure zones that we should know. "If you feel pressure just above your anus or below your belly button you should tell a grown up and have them take you to the bathroom." Ash groaned. “Problem Miss Mondale?" The teacher asked. “Isn't calling other people grown ups kinda derogatory to us? It's like you're saying we're not grown ups just because we're not potty trained." The teacher lifted an eyebrow. “The majority of people are potty trained by 5. Then the Lion share of the stragglers potty train by 17, leaving only 15% of over all people past that age. By 35 that number is 5%. For something that changes so evidently with age, I don't see any other reason for it than a lack of maturity." Ash leaned back in her chair and pouted with her arms crossed. I raised my hand. "Yes Emma?” The teacher asked. "I would say I'm very mature for my age. I'm 27, I have a successful career, my own apartment and a licence to practice law. Surely you wouldn't say I'm immature, would you?” "Emma sweetheart, I know you try very hard, but you've been coming to this class for 6 months and made very little progress.” I started to tear up. "You need to be realistic and truly think about what it means that you can't do something that most 5 year olds have completely mastered. I had to lay you down and change you just three days ago because you pooped yourself so badly you had no chance of cleaning it up yourself." I allowed my perfect posture to fall into a slouch feeling suddenly incredibly defeated. "Am I really immature?” I thought to myself. The class droned on and the teacher seemed more boring than ever. Up until now I had been excited to learn. Now I was only desperate to prove myself a grown up. “Emma.” The teacher called out, “Can you come up here and label the diagram? I know you’ve at least been studying the written work quite well.” I stood up, a grim look of depression on my face. I took the marker from her hand and began to write on the white board diagram. It was true, I had learned every piece of the urinary and bowel system. It was no different than things I learned in my biology classes. You don’t get through law school without learning a fair amount about the human body. I labeled each piece; Bladder, Urethra, Bowel, Anus, Lower intestine. “Very good Emma.” The teacher praised me as she patted my diapered butt, “Now everybody copy this down in your notes, we’ll be working more on feeling these areas on wednesday.” I sat back down at my desk and the class went on for a bit longer. The diagram turned out to be part of a larger lesson about what parts to keep note of in order to know when to go. In time the teacher ended the class. “Alright, that’s 6:00 everybody, you can start heading home.” Everybody began putting their stuff away, aside from Ash and I. Slowly everybody drifted out of the classroom and soon it was just the two of us and the teacher. “Now girls, can you come up here, please.” Ash rolled her eyes and stood up. I got up as well, trying to look poised while I did it. We stood in front of the teacher in silence for a moment. The teacher reached for my skirt and pulled down the zipper, she dropped my skirt to the floor leaving me standing in just my blouse and diaper. “Umm ma’am, what are you doing?” I asked in horror. “Relax, for this exercise I need to be able to see how wet you are. Emma, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re already very wet.” “Haha!” Ash mocked as I bowed my head in shame. The teacher grabbed Ash’s belt next and then undid her cargo pants, dropping them to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at, Ash, you’re wet too.” “WHAT!? No I’m not!” She looked down and panicked then squeezed the front of her diaper. “Shiiiit!” I thought I could tell.” She whined. “Now why don’t you girls go to the bathroom and clean each other up, then we’ll start the exercise.” “Yes ma’am.” I agreed. Ash nodded and we began walking toward the back. Ash whispered while we walked. “I wanna do this all above board, just so you know I’m bisexual and if that makes you uncomfortable-” I interrupted her. “I’m a lesbian.” I smiled softly, “It might be fun.” Ash smiled and we walked into the bathroom. The changing table was bigger than anything else in there. It had a huge variety of diapers. “I see you wear Skullys.” I pointed out, “I don’t think we have any here.” “Yeah, the black of it and the skulls fit my vibe better. You’ve got Elmo on yours, I’m surprised by that.” “Why’s that?” I asked. “Well you seem so adult and Sesame Street’s a little kid show.” “Yeah, maybe. I just like how wholesome he is. He teaches a lot of good lessons about dealing with anxiety and complicated social situations.” “Yeah. I guess he does.” Ash smiled. We looked through the stacks of diapers and picked out the ones we wanted. “This one's got grover on it, he’s my second favourite.” I said. “All these are so sweet. I guess this green one with the frogs isn’t bad, At least frogs are a queer symbol.” “Yeah, that’s the spirit!” I said with a gentle smile. “So which one of us goes first?” Ash asked. “I’d like to. I just wanna be clean.” I said timidly. “Ok.” Ash said, then she helped me onto the changing table by pushing my padded butt. I laid down on it, looking up at her. “Are you ready?” She asked. “Yeah.” Ash nodded and began picking at the tapes of my diaper and once they broke loose she opened up the front, I felt the hot wet stickiness peel away from my special area and shivered a bit from the tingles. “Clean Shaven.” Ash mumbled, with surprise in her voice, and I blushed. She pulled the diaper out from under my butt and grabbed some wipes from a shelf. She began wiping me down carefully at first. At one point she gently grazed over my clit and I shivered, letting out the tiniest squeak. She began wiping me more vigorously and I breathed heavily as she did it. Once I was sufficiently clean she slid the new diaper under my butt and taped it on nice and snug. “Alright, all done.” She helped me up and back to my feet. Ash was a bit taller than me and well built so she was able to get up onto the changing table all by herself. Her chunky boots were a bit disorderly in such a position. She laid back and looked up at me, her face was a bit more delicate than it had been before and her eyes looked watery, almost scared. “It’s alright,” I comforted her, “This’ll be over in a jiffy.” She smiled gently at that and I began carefully undoing her tapes. I opened her up and saw it all. “That’s quite a bush!” I praised her. She smiled and hid her face. I began wiping her down and cleaning everything I could through the thick, curly hair. I spent a little bit of time gently massaging her front through the wipe with an evil smirk and she moaned softly. Then I backed off, I lifted her legs and slid the diaper smoothly under her butt, I placed her down on it then I taped it on, making sure all the leak guards were in perfect place. “Good job.” I said. I helped her up and we both smiled at each other then we walked out into the main area to see what our teacher had in store for us. “Alright girls, all cleaned up?” She clapped her hands one time. “Yup.” “Yes Ma’am.” We replied. “Good, now do either of you feel like you have to pee?” The teacher asked. “No, I’m ok.” I replied. “I don’t know, maybe kinda.” Ash mumbled. The teacher walked up to Ash and pulled her shirt up just a bit. She pushed in on her lower belly. “Do you feel that?” “Um, yeah.” Ash whimpered. “Do you feel the pressure? Like there’s a ball of something in your abdomen.” “I- I guess.” Ash trembled. “Good.” She walked over to me next and pulled up my blouse. She began pushing in on my belly and I felt myself dribble a little into my diaper. “Remember the Kegel exercises, I want you to keep the pee inside you.” The teacher reminded me. I squeezed as tight as I could down there and she kept pushing. “Good, good.” She said, “Keep doing that, you’re getting better at it.” She walked back over to Ash and began pushing on her bladder again. “Have you ever done a Kegel exercise?” “No ma’am.” “Above the exit of your urethra there should be muscle which you should be able to tighten at will.” “I don’t think I can.” “When you have an accident do you ever try to stop peeing?” “Yeah.” Ash agreed. “Use that same muscle you would use to try and stop peeing, but right now before you’ve started peeing.” I saw Ash’s face at first look curious and then look excited. “Wow I’m doing it! I think I’m doing it!” She smiled. “Very good Ash!” The Teacher smiled, “Now, from now on, when you feel the pressure in your bladder I want you to start using those muscles right away so you don’t have dribbles and both of you I want you to work out those muscles every single day.” She handed us some papers from her desk. “These detail the exercises.” “Thank you ma’am!” Ash and I said in unison. I looked at her, amazed to see such a turn around in her attitude. “Alright, you two can put your bottoms back on and head out. You have a nice night and I’ll be asking about those exercises on wednesday.” We both nodded and put our bottoms back on. I pulled up my skirt and zipped it up, feeling a lot more confident with my diaper covered. Ash breathed a sigh of relief when she tightened her belt. Then we walked out the door. “That was surprisingly fun.” I said as we walked down the stairs. Stepping into the parking lot Ash turned around and looked at me. “It was.” She smiled, “It doesn't have to end there. We may be done with potty training for the night, but my band has a practice tonight. You could come watch.” My face lit up. “I’d love to.”

I took a huge risk today, leaving my apartment with my soiled and soggy diaper hidden under my sweatpants. Today's my only day off this week so I'm not taking this thing off for anything. I walked briskly through the aisles trying to act as casually as possible. An older woman employee followed closely behind me. "Damn, it's like she's following me on purpose.” I thought. I stopped in the aisle and bent over in an attempt to allow her to pass me. That's when I felt it, two cold fingers slipped into the waistband of my sweat pants then into the top of my diaper and pulled it back. "Poopy girl, tsk tsk tsk.” The employee chastised me. "What are you doing!?” I asked in horror, "You can't just check random people like that!” I ripped myself away from her and backed against the tall shelf. “Listen stinky butt, as assistant manager of this Walmart it's my responsibility to ensure every customer and employee is reaching our minimum hygiene standard." She approached closer and grabbed my crotch and butt, holding me in place, “So when I see an obvious diaper imprint in someone's pants and smell a smell like yours this becomes my job." "Please let go. I'm just here to buy draino for my clogged sink.” I begged. "And we can set you up with that after we get you into a fresh clean diaper.” "Please, I'm fine. I don't need help. I'll change when I get home." I pleaded. “You're a terrible liar, little one. I can see it in your eyes." “I'm sorry." I looked up at her, tears forming in my eyes. “Sorry you weren't gonna clean yourself or sorry you got caught?" Suddenly the dam burst and I began sobbing. My social anxiety disorder was no match for this domineering supervisor. “Come on. I'll change you." The tall yet stout woman picked me up like I was nothing and threw me over her shoulder. My 5’2 120Lb body like a rag doll to her strength. The woman carried me to back of the store, through the doors and into a break room. There were some employees there. A handsome looking black man with dreads, a young blonde woman and a cool looking emo chick. “Oh you poor thing. Why's she crying." The blonde woman asked. “I caught her in a ruined diaper." The assistant manager said cruelly. "I see.” "I can smell it.” Joked the black man and everybody laughed in agreement. The large woman laid me gently down on a table, supporting my head as she did. The blonde woman and the black man walked over to see me. The black man tickled my stomach and I cheered up a little. “I'm Colby." He said, “There's no need to cry, Delores is gonna get you cleaned up and send you on your way." “Thank you Colby." I said, comforted by his words. “You should thank Delores for cleaning you up too, don't you think, little one." “Oh! Yes for sure. Thank you Delores." I said, embarrassed I had to be reminded. Delores tickled my tummy too and I giggled. "Delores is a name other grown ups call me. You can call me Mrs Yaffy or if that's too hard Teacher.” “Sorry Mrs Yaffy, I'll remember that." “It's ok. You're just learning." She smiled down at me and tickled me even more until she had squirming and laughing hard. “She's so cute." The blonde woman said, who appeared to be around my age. "Just the cutest.” Colby agreed. They both stayed and watched as Mrs Yaffy pulled down my sweat pants and squished the front of my diaper. "This is just awful. How long have you been wearing this?” I blushed and hid my face in my hands. "I went to bed in it last night.” Mrs Yaffy let loose a long sigh. “That’s too long. A girl your age should know that.” "How old are you?” The blonde woman asked. "I'm 19." I admitted in a mumble. "Aww. That's so sad. I'm 18 and a half and I've been done with diapers for years.” "I'm not in diapers like that! I'm 19. I'm normal like you.” I tried to explain. "Then why are you in a soaked one right now?” Mrs Yaffy asked. My face dropped when I remembered I didn't have an answer that I could say out loud. I couldn't let this woman know I have a diaper fetish midway through her changing me. "Sorry I lied ma'am. I do need diapers." “I know you do. Real grown ups like us are too smart to fall for a little one's lies." Mrs Yaffy picked at the tapes on my diaper and the two employees watched as she opened the diaper up unveiling my privates to the room. "Now that's quite a mess!” Colby chuckled. "Don't make fun of her, Colby. We don't wanna make her feel bad for needing a change. It may lead to more self neglect in the future." She took the diaper out from underneath me and began to wipe me with some baby wipes and I shivered from the cold of the wipes and the feeling of this stranger's hand on my privates. It took a long time for her to get me fully clean. I hate to admit it, but she was absolutely right, I was poopy beyond belief. “Jeez Louise this is taking forever." The blonde woman said. “We've gotta make sure she's spotless before we put on the cream." “Cream?" I asked. “Yes. You're starting with a diaper rash. I want to make sure it doesn't get worse." "Thank you ma'am.” I agreed and was a little grateful, I likely wouldn't have noticed a diaper rash until I went back to panties on monday. I saw her bring out a tube and squirt some clear goo onto her fingers. "This is gonna feel a bit cold.” she said gently then began to rub my privates with her bare fingers and I shuttered and wiggled. “Lay still baby girl, fussy babies go to the sit down chair." I tried to still myself as much as I could and eventually she was finished. Next Mrs Yaffy grabbed a fresh diaper from under the sink. It was even bigger and bulkier than the diaper I was in before and had Kermit the Frog all over it. She slid her huge hand under my bum and lifted me up, sliding the diaper underneath me. She gently taped it onto me nice and snug and then she patted the front. "Good girl.” She praised me softly. Lastly she helped me to my feet and pulled my sweat pants back up for me. "Now are you gonna be a good girl and change more often?” She asked me. "Yes mommy.” I said without thinking, "OH SHIT SORRY UHH I meant ma’am I was just-” she placed her fingers on my lips and shushed me. "It's ok little one. I'm large and in charge just like your mommy. You got confused, I know. Come come." She took my hand and walk me out of the staff room. “Goodbye kiddo!" The three staff members shouted. Mrs Yaffy held my hand as she walked me to the homecare section. She helped me pick the best draino for my needs and then she held my hand as she took me to customer service to help me pay. Then she walked me out of the store and pulled my diaper back to check me one last time. "Good girl. Still dry. Be good.” "Thank you.” I said and I left the store, blushing red hot and feeling more like a baby than ever before.

Hi guys! Recently, I started re-editing old stories to find out which ones deserve a sequel. Melissa's re-potty training is one of those stories. The second part of this story sees Melissa seeking revenge against her stepmother. And she's not alone. Alongside her best friend, Melissa manages to diaper her tyrant of a stepmother. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections This story is already completed! The Sequel is already completed too: Melissa's Repotty Training (Subscribestar) and Melissa's RePotty Training (Kindle) Melissa’s Re-Potty Training It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging out at the mall, and twenty-year-old Melissa was stuck inside her nursery. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older. She sighed. By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty-trained and was allowed to do more big-girl things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one. An adult. But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper? It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. Was this to be her life now? No longer an adult but a baby. Chapter One The Re-Potty Training Idea Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room; her heart racing. With each step, her unease grew stronger. The once familiar space now felt suffocating, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern look of her stepmother, Helen, stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval. Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life before her. And Helen was a jealous woman—sexy for her age, but difficult. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend, Dana. Sadly, Dana didn’t live with her, and she needed an ally. Now more than ever. "There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you." Helen's presence filled the room with menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat. As they sat together at the table, the silence grew awkward, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Tea time, as Helen called it, was a constant ritual at home. “How you been?” “All good.” “How’s job hunting treating you?” “There’s not much out there unless I want to work for KFC or something like that.” “I see,” Helen paused just enough. “Anything else you’d like to share with me?” Melissa shook her head, thinking about one thing she didn’t want anyone to know. But her step-mother reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers. “I think it's about time we addressed your... little issue." Melissa didn't know what to say. “What issue?” Asked Melissa, knowing what she meant. She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet her bed and herself so many times so far that it was a miracle no one had found out. Maybe if she played dumb, she could end this awkward conversation. "Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen with a smirk edging at her mouth. "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister." “Step-sister,” Melissa clarified. “And it's not your house. It's my dad's." "And according to his will, it's now mine." "And mine!" There was a short moment of silence. "Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand. "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've liked that. He loved us both. Don’t you think?" Melissa hesitated, but nodded eventually. She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. In fact, while her father was still alive, Helen had tried to send her to boarding school somewhere in another country. Her father wouldn’t have that, though. She missed him. "I don't want you to feel ashamed about it,” Helen continued. “I can help you fix this." “How…” "Well, I was thinking,” Helen said with a big grin. “Amelia is going through potty training right now. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?" Melissa almost choked on her own saliva. "What do you mean by potty training me? I'm an adult!" "I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers are the only solution we have left.” Melissa's jaw dropped. ”You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here." "True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes and my furniture and setting a terrible example for your sister." Melissa didn't really want to argue; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one. “Step-sister,” she said, “What would I have to do?" “I think that part is self-explanatory, right?” Helen asked as if it were truly obvious. “I’ll take you potty every thirty minutes at first. That should keep you dry. Then we decrease the frequency until you earn your big girl panties again. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go potty by yourself. How does that sound?" "How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed. "Wet myself until we get it under control." "We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling. "Protection under your clothes." "No! I told you, no diapers." "Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear." "What's the difference?" "For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different, and they are very helpful during potty training.” "I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it. "I just want to help you," said Helen, “Besides, this could be an excellent way for us to connect. You know, have that mother-daughter experience we never had.” Melissa sighed. She had never seen Helen as interested in her well-being before. Maybe she wanted that connection. Maybe she had changed. “Okay,” she said. “When do we start?" “What about right away?" Helen wasted no time. She grabbed Melissa by the wrist, softly leading her deeper into the house. Through halls and corridors and stairs until they were in a room painted soft pink. It was Amelia’s room, and she wasn’t there. “Amelia’s playing outside. In her sandbox.” “She won’t know?” “She will. But she won’t care. She’s only three.” Helen grabbed some white underwear with a Disney princess design on the front. It was small, but, then again, Melissa was quite thin. Tall, yes, but thin. “Try this on,” said Helen, handing the pull-up to Melissa. It was definitely thicker than regular underwear, and the design was childish. But Helen was right, they didn’t look that much different from her panties. “A little privacy, please.” Helen smiled and stepped out. Melissa stood alone in the nursery. The whole situation felt surreal. Had she actually agreed to this? Chapter Two Potty Time Melissa carefully dropped her pants in the quiet nursery, her cheeks burning when she saw the faint damp spot on her regular underwear. She peeled them off, balled them up, and hid them at the bottom of the laundry basket before turning to the pull-up Helen had left on the changing table. The Disney princess design looked absurdly childish against her long, thin legs, yet the padding felt surprisingly soft when she stepped into it. She tugged the pull-up into place, expecting bulk and noise, but it settled gently around her hips with only a faint crinkle. The material was thicker than panties, cradling her in a way that felt both protective and infantilizing at once. Although she felt a nagging curiosity, she decided not to look at herself in the mirror. Her self-confidence didn’t need that. She yanked her jeans back on quickly, checked that nothing showed, and hurried out of the room before she could change her mind. At the lunch table, she sat stiffly, every shift in the chair reminding her of the secret layer beneath her clothes. Sitting next to her was Melissa’s younger stepsister, Amelia. At only three, she looked like a mini version of Helen herself. It was obvious she was destined for popularity, unlike Melissa, and, even when Amelia had always been nice to her, Melissa resented her. “How is you?” Asked Amelia. Melissa ignored her. That’s when Helen walked into the dining room with plates full of nuggets and fries. She smiled at Melissa with something that could resemble gentleness—it freaked her out. Helen had never been gentle with her before. “Nuggets and fries for my two girls,” Helen announced. “You girls need all the strength you can get to nail potty training.” Melissa blushed. “Mel’s potty training too, Mommy?” Amelia asked through a mouthful, eyes wide and curious. "That's right, hun." “I bet I can potty train faster!” Amelisa shouted. Melissa tried to smile at her, but it seemed forced. She had hoped not to be publicly humiliated like that. Maybe that was Helen’s plan. How foolish of her to trust her stepmother after everything. Helen must have noticed her discomfort. "Don't worry, sweetie,” she added quickly. In this family, we help each other, and I'll be there for you every step of the way." Feeling slightly more reassured, Melissa nodded. “Thanks.” As they ate, Melissa couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Helen's behavior. Helen seemed to genuinely want to help her, but she wondered why. “Potty time," Helen announced after dinner. Helen gave them no time to argue as she grabbed both their wrist, pulling them towards the living room, where a plastic potty awaited. "Is that really necessary?" asked Melissa in shock. "It's just part of the process. Show me you can use the plastic potty, and you can move onto the toilet. It shouldn't be difficult. Should it?" Before Melissa could protest, she was interrupted by her stepmother. "Who wants to go first?!" Helen asked with a smile that felt too forced. Amelia raised her hand. Of course, Melissa was asked to turn back to give her stepsister some privacy. Within minutes, Amelia was done. "I'm a big girl!" said Amelia, smiling from ear to ear. The little brat was as competitive as her mother. It had been cute a few years ago, but now, she was just annoying. There was no way Melissa was gonna lose the potty training race to a three-year-old. But the fact that she was being potty trained alongside a toddler was humiliating. “Your turn, Melissa,” Helen said next as Amelia exited the living room. “Are you ready?” Melissa nodded. She took a step forward, but stopped when she noticed Helen just standing there. “Can I have some privacy?” “I’m afraid that’s not how it works,” Helen answered. “But don’t worry, sweetie. It will be as if I weren’t here.” Taking a deep breath, Melissa pulled down her pants and protective underwear. She lowered herself onto the seat of the tiny plastic potty. Doing her best not to look at her stepmother, she closed her eyes and relaxed her body. But nothing happened. Then a minute passed. And then another. Nothing. She pushed harder. Nothing. Silence. Melissa pushed again, and a loud fart echoed in the room. She blushed as her stepmother giggled. Another minute passed, and nothing. One more push. Nothing. "Alright," said Helen, "I don't think it's going to happen.” "No, wait!" said Melissa, pushing harder now, "I can do this.” "Honey, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you push that hard. It's okay. You didn't make it this time. Let's just try again later." Melissa could feel the tone of disappointment in Helen’s voice. But that was nothing compared to how disappointed she was with herself. "I made it to the potty, Mommy. I'm winning!" Exclaimed Amelia, ecstatic as Helen placed a sticker in her potty chart. “No stickers for you, Mel,” said Helen, gazing at her. Melissa couldn't help but feel pathetic, like a failure. She was an adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee. Not even a trinkle. "You'll make it next time. It's okay. It's the first time you've tried. I'm sure you'll make it," said Helen, and for the first time since Melissa met her, she actually felt as if her stepmother cared about her. Perhaps this potty-training idea wasn't that bad after all. With her first time on the potty a failure, Melissa had nothing left to do but wait. She was to call for Helen's help if she felt the need to go, but the thought of having to ask for help to pee was too embarrassing. She was a big girl. She should make it to the toilet without any help. And so she waited. For Melissa, there was nothing like locking herself in her room to play a video game while she FacTimed her best friend, Dana. But Dana was now working and didn’t have that much time anymore. So she decided to work on her resume—it wasn’t really going well, the whole ‘looking-for-a-job’ thing. But she needed the money, at least until she turned twenty-one. An hour later, the stepmother knocked at her door. “Time to try again, sweetie.” "One minute," said Melissa, staring at her lacking resume. Maybe tomorrow, she could try again. It's not as if she were in dire need to get a job. If only being an adult weren't that difficult. She stood up and went straight to the living room, where Helen and Amelia were waiting beside the plastic potty. "Your sister's got her second sticker of the day," said Helen, "What do we say?” "Congrats," said Melissa, pretending to care enough to form a smile. Helen approached Melissa with a gentle, almost motherly demeanor. ”Now, let's check our big girl.” "What are you...?!" Helen's finger found their way to the elastic band of Melissa's pull-up. The young adult blushed, trying to get away but failing. "My dear," said Helen, removing her fingers from Melissa's crotch, "You're wet.” "What? No. I'm not!” Melissa rushed her hand to her padded crotch only to notice it was bigger and warmer and obviously damp. It couldn't be. She didn't feel it. She was a big girl. She should be able to make it to the potty. Her eyes turned watery, and her knees began shaking. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting back the tears. Helen embraced her with no hesitation—a warm hug that broke Melissa’s defenses. It was the sort of touch only a mother could provide during times of distress, and for a second, Melissa felt less of a failure. "It's okay, honey," Helen said, patting her back carefully, "That's what your pull-ups are for. You'll make it next time.” It sounded familiar—like some of those truisms parents tell children to encourage them. As much as she despised admitting it, her stepmother's kind words did help. Perhaps Helen was right. She might very well make it next time. It was just one accident. She would make it to the potty next time. There was no way she would lose the race for potty training against her stepsister. “Sit on the potty, sweetie,” Helen said, holding her hand. “Just to make sure you don’t have more in you.” Melissa obeyed, though she wished she could be anywhere else but there. Her bare butt touched the plastic of the potty, and she did her best to relax—a few trinkles of pee escaped her. “I’m doing it!” “That’s good, sweetie,” Helen said. “But I’m afraid no sticker for you just yet. You’ve wet your protective underwear.” Melissa knew Helen was right, but at least she had managed to use the potty once. She was going to make it. She was going to be potty-trained and get her father’s money when she turned twenty-one. And she was going to move to a nice place in the city and just live life. Nothing was going to stop her. Chapter Three A Week Full of Incidents Melissa woke up that morning. She stretched and yawned before noticing something. Her bed was completely dry. She had not wet the bed the night before! She rushed off her bed to tell Helen… That’s when she noticed. Her pull-ups were completely soaked, but they were still quite warm. Either she had wet recently, or multiple times—the latter seemed more probable as her pull-ups were sagging too low. She sighed. “Could this day get any worse?” After a shower, she put on another pair of protective underwear. This time, however, curiosity got the best of her. She turned to face the full-length mirror on the back of the door, wearing nothing but the pull-up. The thickness spread her stance a little, the childish princess print made it look childish, but it wasn’t as ridiculous as she had feared. If anything, the soft bulk made her look… quite cute. She blushed at the thought, snatched her clothes from the counter, and dressed in a rush, as if someone might catch her admiring her own reflection. Downstairs, Helen was flipping pancakes while Amelia colored at the kitchen table. Melissa hesitated in the doorway, then cleared her throat. “Good morning,” she said, suddenly conscious of what was between her legs. “Morning!” Amelia said without taking her eyes off the coloring book. “Good morning, Mel,” said Helen with that motherly smile that was so new in her face. “Dry night?” Melissa blushed deeply. And then shook her head. “Don’t worry about that,” said Helen. “That’s what the pull-ups are for.” “My bed was dry this morning, Mommy!” Amelia exclaimed with that childish pride of hers. “Correct!” Helen said. “That’s why we are getting pancakes.” Melissa sat at the table. The meal was quite comforting after the disappointment of having wet herself in her sleep again. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that her three-year-old stepsister was succeeding at potty training while she kept failing. “Potty time,” Helen announced after breakfast. Melissa followed them to the living room, where the plastic potties were waiting. Once again, Amelia got another sticker for her potty chart. “Go wait in your room so I can get you ready for the day,” Helen commanded the three-year-old. Amelia was gone in a second. “Your turn,” Helen said with that smile again. Melissa stepped closer, and Helen’s fingers slipped gently under the waistband of her jeans for the routine inspection. The smile softened into quiet sympathy. “Oh, honey, you’re absolutely drenched already.” “What?!” Melissa exclaimed, completely confused. She took a step back and pulled down her pants. Helen was right; she was soaked already. It hadn’t even been an hour since she took a shower. This couldn’t be happening. Not only did she wet the bed, but she was wetting herself more often. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Helen said, grabbing her hand. “Why don’t you go to your room and get a new pair of pull-ups. We’ll try again later. Okay?” Melissa nodded, fighting back tears. She rushed back to her room, yanked off her pants, and removed the soaked protective underwear. She cleaned herself carefully before slipping into another pair. The rest of the day followed the familiar rhythm of scheduled potty breaks and sticker charts. Melissa managed to stay dry through one entire potty sit—a small victory that earned her a quick hug from Helen. By dinner, though, she had needed two changes, each accident arriving without warning while she was reading or scrolling on her phone. “It takes time,” said Helen later that night. “Tomorrow it will be easier. Now go get a fresh pair of pull-ups and try to rest.” Helen was right, Melissa thought that night in her bed. She will nail the day after. And the day after that. She was going to stop wetting herself and stop worrying about embarrassing herself in front of others—hopefully Dana would be up to hang out one of these days, though. That’s what she needed—just some grown-up time with her best friend. But the next few days were a disappointment for the twenty-year-old girl. Amelia was dry almost every morning. And the little brat couldn’t stop talking about it during breakfast. While Melissa was forced to sit and listen, knowing well that if it hadn’t been for her protective underwear, she would’ve woken up in a wet bed again. Not only that, but Amelia seemed to be progressing fast—at least a lot faster than Melissa herself. By the end of the second week of mutual potty training, Amelia had earned her big girl panties during the day. “I’m a big girl!” “Aren’t you going to congratulate your sister?” Asked Helen. Melissa blushed. “Congratulations.” “Thanks,” Amelia said with an honest smile. “You will be a big girl too. Just stop wetting yourself!” Melissa had to control herself not to say something that would get her in trouble. But the part that hurt the most was that Amelia was right. She was not making any progress. If anything, it seemed she was losing control. Her accidents grew more frequent. She would sit on the little plastic potty and try her best, only to feel nothing—then minutes later, Helen would check on her and find her pull-ups soaked. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Helen would say every time. But Melissa could see that her stepmother was growing tired of her lack of progress. She couldn’t blame Helen. Melissa should’ve made it to big girl panties before Amelia, or at least, be on her way to get there. But her potty chart had barely any stickers. Amelia’s was so full that Helen had to make a bigger one just for her. The morning after Amelia was promoted to big girl panties, Melissa woke up with a big yawn. She stretched and moved, and her hand felt something that made her heart stop. She jumped off the bed. Her pull-up sagged so heavily it almost gave up and fell to the ground, but she managed to keep it in place with one hand. Her pajamas were soaked, and so were the sheets and mattress. “No. No. This can’t be happening,” Melissa muttered as fresh tears began running down her cheeks. There was a knock at the door. “Melissa?” Helen asked. “Everything okay?” Melissa’s heart was beating so fast—she didn’t notice she had begun to wet herself again. notuntil it started leaking down her legs and pooling around her feet. “Melissa?” But Melissa was now sobbing harder. The door opened. And Helen walked in to find her stepdaughter crying—her bottoms were soaked, her pull-up was sagging between her crotch, and a pool of urine around her feet. “Mel…” she said with honest concern. “What happened?” Melissa looked back, helpless. How could she explain this? Waiting for Helen’s reaction, she stood there, sobbing. But her stepmother said nothing. “It's okay,” Helen said, pity behind her voice. “It’s just an accident. Nothing to worry about.” But Melissa couldn’t stop crying. She wanted to tell Helen it wasn’t her fault. She wanted to tell her that she would do better. Her throat felt impossibly constricted. No words would come out. Sobbing like a toddler who had failed to make it to the potty, Melissa broke down. "Don't cry, sweetie,” said Helen, rushing to her stepdaughter. "I'm sorry.” "It's okay. It's okay. We'll fix this. Okay?" For a second, Melissa felt better. But the warmth around her crotch and legs turned cold quite fast, and the uncomfortable feeling against her damp skin reminded her of her failure. "Go take a shower. I’ll clean in here.” Melissa obeyed. Not because she felt ready to clean herself and face the consequences of her accident, but because she couldn't bear the disappointment in Helen’s eyes. They had never seen eye to eye, and feeling so vulnerable with someone she didn't trust was impossible to cope with. When she closed the door to her bathroom, she got naked and got into the shower. She sat there to cry—warm water washing her tears away. When she walked out of the bathroom, she found Helen in her room. New sheets on her bed, windows open, cleaned floor—no trace of her earlier accident. It had all been cleaned for her. “Come sit here, sweetie,” said Helen. Melissa, still wearing only a towel, sat next to her stepmother. “I think we need to have another talk.” “What do you wanna talk about?” Asked Melissa, blushing at the fact that she already knew the answer. “It was my fault, Mel,” said Helen with that motherly tone that unsettled Melissa. “Pull-ups might be okay during the day, but there's no way they can hold an entire night of wetting.” Melissa blushed. ”It was an accident. It won't happen again.” "But that's not true. Is it?" "What do you mean?” "It's been almost a month since we started this potty training journey together. And it seems you're not putting much effort into it." Melissa tried to protest, but Helen continued. ”Look. I don't want to be the bad guy. I truly don't, but we need to take this with the severity it deserves.” "What do you mean?” "Until you can prove you won't wet the bed. You're wearing diapers every night.” Melissa’s jaw dropped. Chapter Four The First Diaper “What?!” Melissa asked in disbelief. “No! I'm not wearing diapers. That's for babies!" Helen considered her for a moment, as if she were the only adult in the room. “Adult diapers are for adults,” she finally said. “Adults just like you who have problems making it to the potty.” Potty? Diapers? Why was Helen talking as if she were a kid who couldn’t understand the severity of the situation? No. She needed to put her foot down. It was her life. She wasn’t going to let her stepmother degrade her any further. “I’m not doing it!” She said, stomping her feet on the ground and frowning, trying to be dominant and menacing, but ended up looking like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Look. We can't have you ruining the mattress anymore. And I bet it's a horrible feeling waking up in a soaked bed. Diapers won't cure you from your bedwetting. But they are the responsible choice. At least until you manage to stay dry during the night. And you don't have to wear them during the day. Just your pull-ups," said Helen, holding Melissa's wrist with the touch only a caring mother would, "What if we make a deal?” "Another one?” "An update to the old one.” Melissa didn't say anything, allowing Helen to continue. "If you make it a week in a row without any incidents—potty incidents—you can go back to pull-ups.” "An entire week?" Helen chuckled. ”It shouldn't be that hard for someone your age. Should it?” "And if I don't make it?” "Then it's diapers. At least while you're living here, it might be your house, too, but you can't be ruining sheets and mattresses all the time. When you get your money, you can move out. You can do whatever you want with it. But until that day comes, you live under my rules.” Melissa knew, deep down, Helen was right. Waking up in a puddle of her own urine wasn't the best way to start her day. She also didn't want her room to stink the way it did that morning. And her clothes and sheets were gonna get ruined if she did nothing, but diapers seemed like an overreaction. She had tried drinking less water and avoiding caffeine. She's tried waking up every few hours, but that only made her grumpy the next day. "Melissa, I need an answer." Melissa considered her for a few seconds. "I'll try." “Good,” Helen said with a smile. “We’ll start tonight. Now, let's get some breakfast, and we can continue with your potty training. Amelia is excited about it. She thinks she can master potty training before you.” Melissa didn’t know what to say. “Oh, there’s one more thing,” Helen said as she prepared to leave the room. “While we are potty training you, it’d be better if you don’t go out without my permission. All our hard work would be for nothing if you just wet yourself without even trying to use the potty.” Melissa sighed. “Sure…” she said, looking down and hoping things were different this time. But things couldn’t have gone any worse. Five times she was taken to the potty, and she couldn't manage more than a few drops. She did, however, soak her pull-ups five times that day. Amelia, on the other hand, was nailing it every single time, and knowing her little step-sister was winning the potty training race was taking a toll on Melissa's self-confidence. To make matters worse, after dinner, she found Helen waiting for her in her room. She was sitting there with a big, fluffy diaper spread over the bed and a bottle of baby powder in her hand. "It's time, Mel," she said, pointing at the diaper, waiting for her stepdaughter to take the first step. Melissa hesitated, biting her lip. With trembling hands, she reached for the diaper and unfolded it. But before she could start the humiliating task. Helen stopped her. "Do you know how to put a diaper on?” Melissa shook her head. "If you don't do it right, it won't matter if you're wearing one. It will leak." "What are you...?" Melissa was taken aback by Helen's hand pushing her over the bed, removing her pants and pull-ups in a matter of seconds before the young woman could react. Tears welled up in Melissa's eyes as her stepmother spread baby powder all over her most private parts, yet she remained silent, submitting to Helen's authority—hoping this treatment would stop soon. She wondered if Dana would still want to be friends if she knew Melissa wore diapers to sleep and pull-ups during the day. When Helen was done, she held Melissa against her ample bosom, comforting her with her gentle touch until her stepdaughter stopped sobbing. "It's okay. You don't have to wear them forever. I'm sure you'll be out of them in no time," said Helen, smiling gently, "Now. It's time to rest. You don't have to worry about wetting your bed anymore." Helen turned off the light and closed the door before leaving the room, leaving Melissa alone. It was done. She was wearing a diaper. And the feeling of its thickness wasn't as disgusting as she had hoped. It forced her legs apart, but besides that, it kinda felt like a pillow in between her legs. It was soft and warm as it hugged her crotch. Helen sat in an armchair in her room, thinking about Melissa’s rapid regression. Her stepdaughter would inherit most of Helen’s late husband’s fortune, except the house. That meant Helen would have to work again, and Helen couldn’t have that. No. If Melissa didn’t move, if she couldn’t, then Helen would keep all of the money and the house. So what if she had to change a couple of diapers a day? It was worth the effort.

This story was created as a fanfic of Personalias' story Unfair. The characters of Ivy and Mrs. Zoge belong to Personalias. “No, no. I look terrible in orange. If you were a mommy you would know this.” Steven laughed at Piper’s snub at his fashion coordination as a Daddy. The Amazon man had Adopted the Little eight months ago, and while a lot of his parenting skills had improved in that time, he still couldn’t color coordinate to save his life. "But your grandmother got it for you, don’t you think she has style?” He put the ruffly orange play dress away and dug back through the closet. A year ago they had been neighbors across the hall in a midtown apartment building. Then one day when Piper had been trying to stop a UTI from getting worse by drinking cranberry juice, Steven had yet again needed to vent for a very long time about his less than spectacular love life. In terms of terrible scenarios that got you Adopted, peeing your pants in pain in front of your mild mannered nerd of a neighbor was not the lowest but still felt pretty low. “Your mother,” Piper crossed her arms across her chest. He had left her sitting on the changing table in just a Little-sized training bra and fresh diaper. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a ponytail with a bow. “Stopped being fashionable two decades ago.” The old widow wore mostly lighthouse themed blouses and reasonable khaki capris. “Also, she really hates me.” Piper had been treated to one too many rough diaper changes from her Adoptive grandmother. Always accompanied with under the breath muttering about how she never got to spend one on one time with her little boy anymore. Steven had probably come too close to finding himself being one of the rare Amazons diagnosed with Maturosis. “She doesn’t hate you, she’s just. . . difficult at her age.” He pulled out a shimmery pink dress and held it out for Piper’s approval. She blushed and shook her head no. She hadn’t been a butch in her old, unpadded life. But she hadn’t been a girly girl either. “How about instead of a dress, I wear the lavender short-alls? With the baby blue long sleeve onesie. That’ll be better for playing in, won't it?” Piper brought the knuckle of her thumb up to her mouth to nervously chew. She never imagined that she would find getting ready for play dates as nerve wracking as getting ready for real dates. “I think you’ll look absolutely adorable in that for your Little friend.” Steven returned to the changing table with the chosen outfit and pushed Piper’s thumb out of her mouth. Before she could protest he had inserted her pacifier in instead. She begrudgingly accepted it, suckling at the rubber nipple, and let him feed her arms through the onesie and close the snaps. He then lifted her off the changing table to step into the short-alls and fasten the shoulder straps. Then the socks, finishing with a pacifier clip. Piper waddled over to the mirror in her nursery. After Steven had Adopted her, he had ended his lease and bought a modest house in a great school district, enrolling her into a preschool meant to help her accept her diagnosis. Now she was judging if short-alls with snaps on the crotch and an obvious diaper bulge were appropriate for tonight. It’s cute if you’re a baby. And… well… “Thif will do, Daddy.” She mumbled her acceptance and turned around with her arms extended up. The giant had just settled her down on his hip when they heard a knock on the front door. “They’re here! They’re here!” She gripped at his t-shirt and shook as if urging her steed on. He laughed and walked out of the nursery, down the hall-way and short staircase to the living room. He turned the knob and revealed Mrs. Zoge holding her Little girl on her hip waiting on the other side. “Hi Ivy!” Piper’s pacifier had fallen out of her mouth in her excitement. The Little Yamatoan smiled back. The first day of preschool Piper had sought out older classmates to get the lowdown on Ivy. “She's been the teacher's pet for the past four years ever since her mommy got hired here. Completely mindfucked.” Had been the consensus. But the second day Piper had been lined up right beside Ivy after getting off the bus, getting to hold her hand. Since then Piper was sure to always get that spot beside Ivy. Two months into the school year she had found herself telling Ollie to back off of his bullying of the teacher's pet. “Why? Is she your little girlfriend? Going to hold hands as you piss yourselves get your diapers changed?” Ollie had to have been a prick before his prick had found itself confined to padding. Piper hadn’t answered him. Just pantsed him, exposing his swollen diaper to the playground. Then pushed him over. That had ended with her sitting down with the teacher, Mrs. Beouf. “I just wanted to help you guys check diapers. There’s so many of us.” She had tried to look as sincere and innocent as possible, turning her pacifier in her hands. Her teacher's knowing smile let her know she had not succeeded. “Be that as it may, you need to let us grown ups handle checking diapers. If you think you or one of your classmates is close to leaking or has had a blowout, you need to find either Mrs. Zoge or I.” She didn’t buy it but it sounds like I’m off the hook. “Ok, Mrs. Beouf.” She had nodded her begrudging agreement, looking down at her hands. “And how will you explain his fall?” Glancing back she saw that the Amazon teacher was finishing writing the report. “Umm” Piper bit at her lip as she thought. Her teacher motioned down to the pacifier Piper held in her hands. She popped in her mouth, sucked on it twice then responded. “I fink he’s loothing his balanthe. Might be plateauing to a lil’er age” Her teacher laughed and wrote down the last of the retelling. “I don’t think you’re too off there. You might have been made a good Maturosis preschool teacher if you had been—” she had been saved from the awkward, belittling comment by a knock on the classroom door. The red-headed Little teacher who taught the actual preschool age students had interrupted and ended that ordeal. And now a month later Piper and Ivy had finally gotten Mrs. Zoge to agree to a sleepover at Piper's house. It had taken Ivy making promises to be a good girl in both languages she knew. “It’s not that, my love, you’re always a good girl.” Mrs. Zoge had reassured her Little girl. “It’s just…” Piper could tell the Yamatoan giant was worried about Steven’s status as a single father. “Daddy has gotten really good at getting the tapes on the landing zones.” There had been a handful of embarrassing mornings at preschool where Piper had to be changed into clothes from the lost and found because an askew tape had led to a practically new diaper leaking. Mrs. Zoge had to start checking Piper before breakfast just to make sure a readjustment wasn’t needed. “And at Little Voices all the other Littles think he’s one of the best daddies to have watch us during playtime.” That was true. Steven was a great story teller. Though he had to reign it in after a scary story around Fall Festival had sent two Little girls crying to their Amazon Mommies and Daddies. Mrs. Zoge relented. And now here Ivy was! Ivy was at her house! Ivy was going to sleep in her bed—crib—with her! Piper squirmed in Steven’s grip. “Daddy, can Ivy and I go play while you and Mrs. Zoge talk adult stuff?” “Of course, sweetheart.” The Little girls were placed on their feet. Mrs. Zoge straightened Ivy’s pale green dress. It had some marketable red hair character on the front meant to be marketable to anyone who found themselves regularly sat in front of children’s movies. “Be good for Mr. Doyle.” Ivy nodded agreement to her mommy. “I’ll be here in the morning to pick you up. I love you.” The giant Yamatoan kissed the forehead of the Little Yamatoan. “What about me, Mrs. Zoge?” A smug smile spread across Piper's face. “I love you too, Piper.” Mrs. Zoge placed a kiss on Piper's forehead too. Good to know I still have a way with the parents. Piper grabbed Ivy’s hand and led her into the living room where she had set up puzzles, dolls, coloring books, almost her entire toy chest to impress Ivy. Behind them the designated adults talked shop about Ivy’s overnight diaper bag and numbers to call if there was an emergency. — Two hours of sitting on the floor talking over puzzle pieces later Piper heard Ivy’s stomach growl. Their juice boxes sat drained at either side of the coffee table. “I guess it’s probably time to tell Steven it’s time for dinner.” Piper looked towards the dining room where Steven sat with his laptop. He had said he needed to make a deadline and that he could watch them just fine from the table. “Does your daddy know how to make katsudon?” Her play date asked. Piper bit her lip and fidgeted with the pacifier hanging from her short-alls. “Umm.” I didn’t even know how to make that. “Steven is really good at basic stuff but I don’t think grilled cheeses are going to cut it.” “Oh.” Ivy turned back to the puzzle. It wasn’t particularly hard and they had been intentionally slowly putting it together. Piper shifted awkwardly and felt her diaper squish under her. “You know,” she leaned in towards Ivy, “if things were different, if we weren’t—” Piper didn’t want to say 'in diapers'. “If we were able to be grown ups, I would have looked for the restaurant with the best katsudon reviews and taken you there.” “I’ve been to a lot with Mommy and Daddy. Mommy says none of the restaurants can make katsudon as good as she does.” Piper laughed. She wasn’t sure if Ivy had intended to make a joke or just state facts but it was funny either way. “I’m sure she does. Next sleepover you’ll have to have me over at your house and have your mommy make katsudon for me.” That is if you want to see me again after tonight. Do the rules still count? Ivy smiled and nodded. “Just because we can’t do this the grown up way, doesn’t mean we can’t do this the baby way.” Piper smiled mischievously at Ivy as the Yamatoan quizzically looked at Piper. Then— “DADDY! WE’RE HUNGRY! COME IN HERE QUICK WE NEED SUSTENANCE!” They heard the scrap of wood against wood. Steven appeared in the living room. “Ok I’m here. No need to cause such a ruckus.” “Sorry daddy but we’re huuuuungry. Can we get—”she paused, looked at Ivy, and lowered her voice “do you like pizza?” she whispered. Ivy enthusiastically nodded yes. “Can we get pizza?” “I think pizza sounds great, sweetheart!” Steven pulled out his phone and started looking for the number of their go to pizza place. “Two larges; one cheese, one pepperoni sound good, girls?” Piper looked at Ivy who nodded back in agreement. “Yes! That sounds great, Daddy! Thank you!” Steven turned away to make the call, and Piper turned her attention back to Ivy. “See? Almost like ordering at a restaurant.” “Ok girls. Delivery will be in twenty minutes. I need to check your diapers and make sure you don’t need changes.” “Daaaadddyyyyy!” Whined Piper but he still kneeled down and stuck two fingers through the bottom of her short-alls to get to her diaper. “A little wet but you’ll be ok to get through dinner.” She huffed and stuck her pacifier in her mouth but Steven ignored her and turned his attention towards Ivy. “Now let’s check you.” Like she had never learned to be self-conscious, Ivy obediently lifted her dress up to expose her yellowed Monkeez. Piper blushed a deep red at the display and hurriedly looked away, gnawing furiously at the nipple of her pacifier. “A little more wet than Piper,” Unlikely thought Piper, “but you should last until after dinner too.” His knees popped as he stood back up. “Oof.” He grimaced as he stood back up. “I need to get your bottles ready.” “Can we haf mo’ juithe, pleathe, daddy? I wan another cranberry bocth and Ivy really liketh the grape juithe.” “No, you two have had enough juice boxes for tonight. And Ivy’s mommy gave me bottles that she expects to be empty when she comes back tomorrow. You need your formula too.” He walked to the kitchen, not allowing for any more protests. “You drink formula?” Her play date asked. Piper popped her pacifier out of her mouth. “Well, while Steven’s stock as a bachelor has gone up since becoming a single daddy so willing to take care of a Little in need, he still hasn’t found the one yet.” And I hope when he does she takes a step mother approach with me. Piper had been very into breasts before she was Adopted, but now the image of her needing something for sustenance that she once found pleasure in made her feel things she didn’t really want to ever have to address. “Oh. Mommy says formula is ok but that breast is best.” She recited her mommy’s words like they were sage wisdom. “I’m sure Mrs. Zoge is right about a lot of things.” Piper nodded, and then leaned in close. “But Steven—well. He does lack breasts.” Ivy’s face lit up in understanding and then they both fell into fits of giggles. — Amazon formula worked just as well as the milk straight from the source did. Their bottles, as well as the greasy pizza, had made sure they both needed changes. Hold hands as you piss yourselves and get your diapers changed? Piper frowned around her pacifier and tried to push the thought of the Little bully away. Stupid Ollie. Probably spending tonight alone while his Mommy says he’ll always have her. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long, sweetheart.” Steven had misread her frown as discomfort at his wiping technique. “But you’re a real mess down here.” Steven was too busy focusing on cleaning his Little girl up to notice the new shade of red she turned. She covered her face with her hands, then turned to peek through her fingers and look to where Ivy sat in the crib, now wearing a fresh Monkeez covered with plastic panties and a night shirt. If Ivy had heard the remark, she didn’t let it phase her. Steven finished up with the humiliating ritual and taped the thicker overnight diaper around Piper's waist. He stood for a minute admiring how he got the tapes right the first time. “That technique Mrs. Ripley showed me really does work every time.” It was actually Ms. Ripley, another Amazon who also attended Little Voices with her adopted Little boy. But the cheap perfume she wore kept Piper from informing him of the woman’s correct relationship status. “Thank you, Daddy. May I please have my pj’s now?” Piper mumbled the request as she sat up on her changing table and covered her chest. She had gotten used to Steven seeing her naked in this context but the extra audience of Ivy was bringing some anxiety forward. She lifted her arms only for them to be fed through the short sleeves of the owl-print onesie. Once the crotch snaps were snapped he picked her up and placed her next to Ivy in the crib. “Would you girls like a bedtime story?” Steven moved towards the only Amazon sized piece of furniture in the nursery, a wooden chair. Before he could sit down, Piper spoke up. “Daddy, we really like your stories but we still want to talk a bit before we sleep. Can we please stay up and talk for a while? I promise we’ll go to bed in fort—” Piper saw the face Steven made. “Thirty minutes? Pretty please?” She batted her eyelids at her unwanted wingman. “Fine. But it better be thirty minutes. I don’t want Mrs. Zoge mad at me if Ivy’s sleep schedule gets thrown off.” “WILL DO! THANK YOU, DADDY! GOOD NIGHT DADDY, LOVE YOU!” Piper did all but push Steven out of the nursery. He just laughed. “I love you too, sweetheart. And good night, Ivy. I’ll let you two get to talking about the boys you like.” He hit the light and closed the door. “Gross!” Piper responded, but she doubted Steven would connect the real reason why Piper was protesting the thought of liking boys. Now, with only the light from the night light left in the room, Piper was properly alone with Ivy. Finally. Piper let herself relax a bit into the soft mattress. “So what do you want to talk abo—” Ivy stopped when Piper held up her pointer finger and then brought it to her mouth. She held her finger against her mouth in the silent signal until they both heard the creaking of floorboards going away from the nursery. “Ok he’s probably gone back to his laptop now. Thank god for work deadlines.” “My da-“ Ivy was yet again cut off mid-sentence by Piper holding up a finger. “I really want this to be private,” Piper glanced towards the baby monitor in the room, “so we’re going to have to stop referring to Steven or anyone like him with the D word. Understand?” “Yes. But, are you sure this is ok? I don’t want to be doing anything bad.” Ivy’s eyes glanced at the baby monitor, the one connection to the Amazons she so fully trusted. “I promise we won’t be doing anything bad. It’s just. . . I, well. Mmm.” Piper fidgeted with her pacifier that was clipped to her onesie. She sighed, and then threw it over her shoulder. “If things were different if we weren’t, you know,” she motioned down to their bulging crotches, “then I would have been able to do things so much differently. I would have worn a really cool outfit and taken you to a nice restaurant and ordered mixed drinks, then back to my place for a deep intellectual discussion and then hopefully back to my bedroom where we could have continued doing grown up things.” “What kind of grown up things?” Ivy’s eyes had grown wide with curiosity. Piper bit her lip. “Well. There was this thing that I would do with my tongue.” She leaned forward and caressed Ivy’s face, looking her crib mate in the eyes. “Would you like a demonstration?” “Yes.” That was all Piper needed to hear before she had lips on Ivy’s. She gently pressed her lips against Ivy’s, then she slid her tongue into Ivy’s mouth and started working on the trick. She knew she did it when she felt Ivy go “oh” into her mouth. She finished by gently biting the center of Ivy’s lower lip. “Wow” Ivy’s eyes were the widest they had been all evening. “Grown ups do that?” “Yeah. They do. Especially when they’re with another grown up they really like.” Piper's cheeks blushed but the night light wasn’t bright enough for Ivy to see it. “I really like you, Ivy.” “I really like you, too” Piper let a win be a win. She didn’t want to know if Ivy did understand what really like meant. “But we aren’t grown ups. We shouldn’t be doing these things.” “Well,” Piper laced her fingers with Ivy’s, “there’s things grown ups do, and then there’s things babies like us, you know, the ones who’ve stopped growing, can do. But we’ll only do it if you want to.” She squeezed Ivy’s hand. “Do you want to?” “Yes.” Ivy enthusiastically nodded her head and Piper sent a silent prayer to whatever deity had chosen to bless her this night. “Let me take the lead. But make sure to not tell any Amazon about this either. We’re not doing anything wrong, Amazons know Littles do this, but they don’t want us talking to them about it, understand?” Ivy nodded. “Ok. If at any point you want to stop, please tell me and don’t call for Steven, ok?” Ivy again nodded her understanding. Piper again took Ivy in a kiss then began sliding her plastic panties down. “Good to know that even in diapers I can still get a girl’s panties off.” “What does that mean?” “Oh, nothing Ivy, just a joke to myself.” “Did you find it funny?” I’m damn hilarious. “Very.” She sat Ivy’s plastic panties aside at the bottom of the crib. “Could you unsnap the crotch on this onesie?” Ivy reached down and had the snaps popped open as quick as any Amazon. Piper had seen a similar demonstration of Ivy’s freakish strength one morning while lining up after the buses dropped them off. Piper's diaper had yet again been applied haphazardly and she desperately needed to pee. Unfortunately both Zoge and Beouf had to go help out a third grade teacher who had two students get in a fight in her line, leaving Piper in a desperate situation she was unable to fix. Her bladder seemed resigned to make her need yet another spare pair of pants from the lost and found. The Little teacher who had been asked to supervise the Adopted Little’s line while their teachers were otherwise occupied had been saying something to his students and didn’t hear Ivy tell Piper to pull her shorts down, nor see Ivy grab the offending tab and place it properly on the landing strip. Just in time for Piper's bladder to give out and in time to save her pants. “Ok, with that done I think we should move onto our diapers. We should probably keep our tops on for plausible deniability.” Piper had to skip over some of her usual checklist and improvise. “Plausible what?” Ivy whispered. “Don’t worry about it. Could you undo the tapes on your diaper then mine? We’ll probably need to stay sitting on them, but that’s better than trying to explain certain stains.” Ivy obeyed and peeled back the four tabs on her diaper then did the same for Piper. For the first time in eight months Piper could see her cunt without a bumbling man dumping half a bottle of baby powder on it. And better yet, I get to see another girl's cunt too! “Now, grown ups have this thing called foreplay, but for Littles like us we can do this thing called exploring. Just touch whatever part of me you want, and I’ll do the same, and we’ll stop if the other one says to stop, understand?” Ivy didn’t need coaxing. She nodded and then immediately grabbed at Piper's breast through the onesie, pinching a nipple with her strong grip. Piper moaned. Half in pain, half in pleasure. “Easy. You don’t need to pinch so hard. Loosen your grip just a bit and massage it.” Ivy followed the instructions perfectly, and soon had Piper moaning only in pleasure. “Damn, it was supposed to be me turning you into a puddle.” That made Ivy stop and anxiously look down at their open diapers. “No, no we’re fine. It’s fine. Here. Let me—” Piper pushed Ivy’s night shirt up, exposing the Yamatoan’s small but perky chest, and took a nipple into her mouth. Piper savored the experience of a real nipple again, rolling her tongue around the stiffened peak and lightly biting down on the sensitive flesh. Hard enough to make Ivy gasp but not hard enough to leave marks. Her hand then slid down Ivy’s stomach, finding its way to Ivy’s hairless cunt, then finding Ivy’s clit. The moans were like music to Piper's ears. So much better than that stupid children’s CD Steven has in the car. She let go of Ivy’s nipple long enough to say “Not too loud, ok?”, and got Ivy’s nod of understanding before she popped the nipple back in her mouth. Her middle and ring fingers started encircling Ivy’s sensitive clit as her pointer and pinky fingers spread Ivy open. A quick glance up to Ivy’s face let Piper know her date was enjoying herself. Ivy eyes were half lidded and she was sucking furiously on her thumb. Her fingers picked up the pace, occasionally dipping down to Ivy’s slick opening to spread the wetness up. Piper kept studying Ivy’s face to know when to speed up or slow down. Soon Ivy was panting and rocking herself into Piper's hand. Keeping pressure and pace, the practiced Little made the inexperienced Little cum in her hand. Piper watched as her crush shook with pleasure. Still got it. “You did so well, Ivy. So well.” Piper planted another kiss on Ivy’s lips. “Wow, that was so much better than the green goo.” Ivy’s observation got a giggle out of Piper. “Yeah. It really is.” Piper wiped her slick fingers off on the open diaper beneath Amy. “Can I do that to you?” The enthusiasm that came with the question almost made Piper cry. “Of course you can.” — Ivy had only needed a little coaching before she had Piper orgasming while sucking on her pacifier. After Piper stopped floating on the ceiling, Ivy had redone their diapers and snapped Piper's onesie close again. Then Ivy’s plastic panties were slid back on, and they settled into each other's arms just in time to feign being asleep for Steven who had stopped to look in on them on his way to his bedroom. They stayed like that for a while, saying nothing. Only the sound of their breathing filling the room. Ivy broke the silence first. “Piper?” She whispered the name, an attempt to not wake her crib companion should she be asleep. But Piper's brain was too busy to let Piper find rest, it was trying to figure out how to get a moving truck to pick up Ivy’s things and bring them over to Steven’s house so they would never have to sleep apart again. “Yes, Ivy?” “Thank you for being nice to me.” That broke Piper's heart. “Ivy, I’ll always be nice to you even if we never get to explore again. And never explore with anyone who would only be nice to you if you allow them to explore, understand?” Piper felt Ivy nod against her and heard a tired “Yes.” come from the Yamatoan in her arms. Piper adjusted her arms, and in the movement felt her diaper squish against her. Of course. “Sleep tight, Ivy.”

Haiii!!! I'm Stacey, 18 and I'm looking for a mommy who I could be little with! My little age ranges from 2-3 maybe 4 at the highest, I love cutesy things, the color pink, horsies etc! I'd love to meet a mommy who is soft, kind, and caring and who might be okay being in an ANR in the future! A little about little me! I am clingy, and really really emotional and vulnerable. My little age is around 2-4 and I prefer to be nonverbal. I love cuddling and hugging and anything super comfy and soft like stuffies or blankets! If there is anything my little side would want, it would be being able to be held and told that everything will be okay. I love bedtime stories and having a bedtime routine of sorts! Expect little me to playfully disobey, I like being put in my place every now and then! I also love being called pet names or nicknames! Expect a lot of spelling mistakes as well, I normally struggle with spelling! A bit about big me! I am extremely introverted and can be really shy and nervous. I love soft and cutesy things and coquette fashion. I love drawing and playing guitar, artsy things are my passion!! I'm just a little princess trying to find her mommy!

Chapter 1 "I know someone for whom it's time for bed," I interrupted the peaceful puppet show of my little sister on the living room floor in a tone that, to my shock, almost sounded like my mother's. "Please Emily, just a little bit longer, I'm not tired yet," begged Sophie, looking at me hopefully with her big, brown eyes. It was the usual evening drama she played when she had to go to bed. "No Sophie, it's bedtime now, there will still be a tomorrow to play," I explained to her clearly. I had more than enough of her daily, evening disagreements. "But...," she started to whine, but I cut her off. "No Sophie, it's bedtime now, no arguing!" Sophie pouted, but when I took her by her hand, she got up without any further grumbling and allowed me to accompany her to the bathroom without resistance. After a few meters, I noticed that her walk was a bit odd. She was walking with her legs much more spread apart than usual, as if she were imitating the walk of a duck. At first, I thought it was just another game of hers, a way to make the trip to the bathroom more exciting. A Game that she might have learned at kindergarten. But then, suddenly, I realized why she was walking so strangely. "Sophie, can you wait a moment please," I asked her with a sense of foreboding, and stopped. I lifted her summer dress and saw that her pull-up was completely soaked. It was almost a miracle that she hadn't leaked yet. " You're supposed to tell me when you need to go potty," I scolded her sourly. She looked down ashamed. "I was having so much fun playing, I didn't want to stop, and then suddenly I had to go potty before I could say anything." Sophie was a highly advanced child for her age of four. Her language skills were significantly above average, and she could not only read the entire alphabet, but also already write several words. Even simple addition problems were not a problem for her. Despite her remarkable intellectual abilities, she struggled with potty training. She still often woke up with a wet diaper and had more accidents during the day than a typical girl her age. My mother had tried every imaginable method to help Sophie overcome this issue, but with no avail. She even experimented with alternative therapies, like Bach flower remedies and Homeopathy, but as expected, they were of no assistance either. Typically, I would have put Sophie on the potty one last time before bed, like every night, but I could spare myself this step now. Instead, we just made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush our teeth. Then I took Sophie to her room, where I placed her on the changing table. I removed her dress, took off her wet pull-up, cleaned her privates, and sprinkled some baby powder on her diaper area. Finally, I put her in one of her nighttime diapers. "Is this the pajama you'd like to wear, my dear?" I asked my little sister, offering her the princess-printed sleepwear she loved so much. She beamed with joy and put on pants and top with my assistance. "And which story would you like for bedtime tonight?" I asked, giving her the option to choose, even though I already knew the answer. With a loud rustling of her diaper, Sophie scampered over to her bookshelf, and, as she does every night, pulled out the storybook about the adventures of a little princess. "What a surprise," I said with a touch of sarcasm as I took the book from her hand, but she simply smiled contentedly. To my surprise, Sophie was still enamored with the book, despite having memorized every story inside and out. "Will Mum come to give me a goodnight kiss?" Sophie wanted to know as I helped her into bed and looked at me hopefully. "Mum is still out and won't be home until later, but I'm here if you need anything". Immediately, any trace of a smile disappeared from her face, although this situation was nothing unusual for her. Our mother was a highly sought-after lawyer and often had to work late at her office. In such cases, I was often the one who had to pick Sophie up from kindergarten and take care of her until our mother returned. Only on days when I couldn't or didn't want to, a babysitter looked after her. "Mom will give you a kiss as soon as she's back," I cheered up Sophie. "Remember that your potty is right beside your bed in case you need to use it during the night. And if you don't want to go by yourself, you can always call me," I reminded her, as I usually did, in the hope of preventing any nighttime accidents. "I know," Sophie replied with a touch of frustration, having heard this reminder every night before bed. It would only have been nice if she had finally put this knowledge into action. "The little princess lived in a grand and magnificent castle," I started reading to Sophie, and before long, her eyes began to close. So much for her insisting she wasn't tired yet. I continued reading a bit longer, until I was certain that she was soundly asleep and wouldn't stir even if I stopped the story. I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and tiptoed out of her room. Chapter 2 The pleasant chirping of birds in the garden woke me up from my dreams the next morning. Only two weeks ago I had finished my final school exams and it was still unusual for me not to be woken up by the annoying melody of my alarm clock. Finally, I was free, I was no longer forced to adjust my sleep rhythm to the early morning school hours. I could get up and go to bed whenever it suited me. Of course, I was aware that once I started to go to university, the morning sleep-in would also come to an end, but for now I was going to enjoy every moment of my temporary freedom. Unfortunately, this freedom was still quite lonely. As soon as I had finished my final exams, my mother, my younger sister, and I moved from the city to the countryside. My mother had long dreamed of a small cottage, and she took the opportunity provided by the end of my school years to start a new life in a more idyllic place. Admittedly, the old house and the surrounding countryside were beautiful, but it didn't change the fact that it now felt like we were living at the end of the world. There was no club or bar in the immediate vicinity and nothing else to pass the time as a young person. Without a car, you were completely helpless here and I had neither a vehicle nor a driver's license. As a city child, I had never seen the need to waste my time with tedious driving lessons when you could get around more quickly by bike or public transportation in an urban area. But in the end, it didn't matter that I was not mobile here, it didn't matter that I didn't know anyone my age yet, because in no time at all I would be moving far away to England, the location of my new university. I was about to drift back to sleep when I suddenly realized something was amiss. The area around my buttocks felt uncomfortably wet. Had I sweated excessively in my sleep, causing the mattress to become soaked? But why did only the area around my buttocks seem to be wet? I wondered if I had gotten my period, but it was hard to imagine that the little bleeding I normally had could have caused such a mess. I quickly realized what had happened as I lifted my bedspread and discovered a circular, yellow stain around my buttocks on the otherwise pristine white bedsheet. I had clearly wet the bed, even though it seemed surreal at that moment. After all, I had enough experience finding Sophie's mattress in a similar state when we tried letting her sleep without a diaper at night, to know what such a mishap looked like. Repulsed by the wet, already smelling urine that now also stung my nose, now that the bedspread no longer trapped the odor, I rolled out of bed and immediately stripped off my pajama pants, which were also soaked with urine. No one was ever allowed to know about this mishap. I was 19 years old, not four like my sister. There was no excuse for such an accident at my age. I couldn't even imagine what my mother or friends would think if they found out. I could already picture the rumors spreading through my social circle and my new village. "Have you heard, Emily still wets the bed at 19 years old." I had to act fast. I quickly thought through my options. If I threw my bedding into the washing machine before anyone saw it, no one would ever know about my accident. I quickly took off my sheet from the mattress and also removed the covers. However, now that the mattress was uncovered, my mistake was even more obvious. The big yellow stain in the center of the white mattress was unmistakable and would immediately reveal what had happened to anyone who saw it. I had to turn the mattress over to completely hide the urine stain, but just at the moment I was about to start, there was a knock at the door. "Emily?" I heard my mother's voice. "Please don't come in," I panicked, but as usual, she had already entered without waiting for my permission. "I told you not to come in! You always come in without waiting for me to say it's okay," I yelled at my mother while desperately trying to position myself so she couldn't see my bedding and bed. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to quickly ask if you could unload the dishwasher later, after all, you shouldn't have much to do otherwise," she explained apologetically, but didn't make any effort to leave my room and instead looked curiously inside. She must have just been about to leave the house to go to the kindergarten and then to her office, since she was already holding my little sister at her hand. "Why isn't Emily wearing any pants?" my little sister innocently asked my mom when she saw me. I blushed. Out of sheer fear that my sheets and my bed could be seen, I had forgotten that I was standing half-naked in front of them, giving them an optimal view of my uncovered vulva. I couldn't recall the last time my mother had seen me this exposed, but regardless of when it was, it must have been before I hit puberty. "Uh, I was just about to change", I stammered and quickly brought my hands down to conceal my privates. "Why did you make your bed so early?" My mother wondered as she noticed that my sheets were lying behind me. "Did you get your period and is there some blood on the bed?" "Uh, yeah, that's right” I lied, grateful for this plausible explanation. Unfortunately, it didn't have the desired effect, and she didn't leave me alone. "Is there any stain on the mattress too? You need to act quickly if you want to remove it completely," she explained and before I could do anything, she stepped further into my room and looked at my exposed mattress. She appeared stunned. "Did you wet the bed, Emily?" she asked, clearly in disbelief. The question was rhetorical, she didn't need a response to know what had happened. I was speechless. I stood there, my face red, covering my nudity with my hands and hoping it was just a nightmare from which I would soon wake up. Unfortunately, it was not a dream, and I had to confront the unpleasant truth. To my shock, my mother reacted in the same way she always did when my younger sister had an accident. "Oh Emily, it can happen to everyone," she comforted me in a loving tone. Most people would probably argue that my mother's sensitive and considerate response was a positive thing, something to be happy about, but I would have preferred if she had screamed at me from the bottom of her heart. By reacting to my misfortune in the same way she reacts to my little sister's, I felt like she was equating me with a toddler who was expected to wet the bed once in a while and could therefore not be blamed. "We really have to go now. Are you okay?" my mother asked me with such a soft and concerned voice that I almost started crying. Her caring and considerate demeanor only made me feel that the whole thing was even more of a disaster than I had initially thought. I could only nod silently, as I knew that one more caring word would finally make me cry. "Just put the sheets in the washing machine and let the mattress air out before putting on new sheets," she instructed as she was already walking out the door. "Don't worry Emily, it's probably just a one-time thing. We'll see you tonight," she said finally and in the next moment she was gone with my little sister. Hardly had I been alone when I could no longer hold back my tears. For the rest of the day, I was occupied with crying my eyes out. Why did this have to happen to me and why was I so stupid to get caught as well!?

Hello Everyone! I know this is posted on DeviantArt, but I have decided to start releasing chapters here as well! With chapter 3 well on its way to be completed, here are the first 2 chapters of my story Spell Binding! Hope you all enjoy! Spell Binding Chapter 1 ExFic “The biggest adventure you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams” -Oprah Winfrey Have you ever met a witch? If you had, you would probably not be around to talk about it. Witch’s are a curious sort, they don’t like to be seen, especially not by wandering children asking for trouble. This is the lesson our young couple will learn, one diaper at a time… ------------------------------------------- “Hurry up Lizzy!” Selina shouted from down the forest path, only forged through the leaves strewn to its sides. It was late in October, the leaves had all but finished falling as a cold breeze greeted the lone pair walking through the trees. “God, when did it get so fucking cold! I can’t even feel my legs anymore Sil, why did we come out here again?” The young girl approached her girlfriend, though as it stands tonight that may not be for much longer. She was short, around 5ft even, with long black hair and a cute face, many people frequently mistake the twenty-three year old for being a tween, to her dismay. She would look up from the ground at Selina, her twenty-four year old girlfriend. Selina was significantly taller than the poor girl standing at 6ft 2in, basically dwarfing her in a shadow, her blonde hair was short and her form muscular. “Stop being such a baby Liz, it should just be up ahead!” Selina ran forward leaving the other girl behind. After a short sprint she would find exactly what she was looking for, a cottage. A cottage said to contain the dreaded witch of their town, or so the legends say anyway. Legend has it that if you knock on the witch's house the day before halloween she will grant you good luck and favor for trick or treating the next night. As Liz came into the clearing she would notice that it suddenly felt warmer, almost summer like as she looked around. The trees here had not seemed to lose their beautiful leaves or any of their vibrant color. Standing in awe Liz looked forward toward the small cottage laid before both of them, quickly she stepped up to Selina, a little scared and timid. “Is… this the place Sil? I don’t like it… something feels off.” Liz said, shaking a little at the unnatural feeling in her stomach. “Yep this is it!” Selina said happily, grabbing her love around the shoulder and pulling her close. “If we go up and knock on that door we will be blessed with a great candy hull tomorrow!” an excited smile adorned her face as she started forward, Lizzy still in the crook of her arm. “I don’t know, maybe we should just go home, aren’t we a little old to be trick-or-treating anyway? I mean we both are almost out of college…” Liz tried pulling away, but with her lack of strength it is doubtful Sil even felt the slight pull. “Oh please, with you there they all think I am taking out my younger cousin anyway.” Lizzy blushed at the firm confirmation of her appearance. “Besides, I like candy, don’t you?” “I mean… I do like candy…” Lizzy said head down, feeling somewhat stupid for even making a statement. “Exactly, so let's get a lot of it this year!” Selina looks down at Liz and her clearly scared expression. Taking a moment of pause she stops and gets down in front of her partner. “Look, I will protect you alright? You have nothing to fear with me here. Let's get this done with and if after everything settles you still don’t want to go out, we can stay home and watch some scary movies instead, okay?” Selina looks her in the eyes warmly with a smile. “Oh…okay I will be brave…” Liz says, smiling a little back, feeling more at ease and protected. A strong hug followed, then with a quick step Selina approached the front door of the house, Liz directly behind her. Selina prepared her hand to knock going in full force when the door opened in front of her suddenly. Inside a tall woman with black hair stood, probably a little shorter than Selina herself, however something about her presence made it feel like she towered over the girl. She was wearing a comfortable looking shirt and tight jeans, not something either girl would have anticipated from a witch. “Yeeeees?” The tall woman said as inquiring about the presence of these two young adults on her secluded doorstep. “Can I help you two girls?” There was an air of annoyance and anticipation in her voice as she spoke. Selina stepped a little forward and smiled, keeping her cool (for the most part) as she did. “Yes, um… Ms… witch lady. We were told that if um… we came and knocked on your door, that…” Selina trailed off, feeling kind of dumb now that she was standing in front of this woman in the middle of the forest. “That you would receive a blessing of some sort and get a bunch of candy tomorrow?” The woman filled in, her eyes rolling as she did so. “Yes I have heard that one before, you look cold why don’t you both come in for a little bit?” She offered, standing aside. The two girls passed glances to one another, unsure if they should trust this person, though looking her over she did not seem to mean any harm for the couple so they reluctantly stepped into the house together. Inside the two were amazed at how cozy the place looked. The living room was perfectly decorated for fall, with vibrant reds and oranges everywhere, a sky light above revealing the falling of leaves, a cozy fireplace burned lightly with a crackle, warming the entire space just enough, the furniture all looking like it was inviting you to sit down and just drift away. “Wow you have a lovely home…” Liz said surprised. . “Did you expect me to not?” The older woman responded with an eyebrow raised, looking almost offended. Her demeanor gave off a strong vibe of someone who doesn’t like being questioned and even worse doesn’t like not having her questions answered. With a little yelp Liz shook her head no quickly “It isn’t that… I just um… well witches…” “Live in a crappy old building? Luring in travelers to their demise? Eating children unless they can cook her first?” The woman had stopped and turned to stare Liz down now, Selina quickly stepped in between them. “Sorry she can be a little nervous and blurts things out that sound worse than they are. She meant that your decorating is just magnificent.” a strong smile was hiding the nervous feeling Selina herself had at standing infront of this stranger. “Well then… thank you.” She turned around and kept walking, guiding the two. “So you two want to get a lot of candy at Halloween tomorrow is that correct?” She headed into a hallway, presumably toward the bedrooms as she did, the two girls followed close behind. “Well yeah! We love candy and Halloween is the best holiday ever!” Selina said proudly. “And you thought the best way to do that was to come to my house and knock on the door?” A quick stop in front of a door caused both Sil and Liz to stumble a little bit. “Well uh… that is what the legend said to do…” Selina blushed, again feeling stupid and almost… small. “Yes, well, the legend is right about a couple things. I am a witch.” She snaps and a pacifier appears in her hand. “I can grant you the ability to get lots of candy.” She snaps again and several pieces of candy appear in Selina and Liz’s hands. “Knocking on my door does indeed grant you this boon…. However.” She slowly opens the door, revealing a large nursery fit for the richest baby in the world. A quick step and she is now behind the girls in the hallway. “It certainly isn’t the best way to achieve this.” Both girls quickly turn to look at her as she teleports behind them, Liz looking up scared as the woman looks down at her. The witch shoves the pacifier directly into the shorter girl's mouth without hesitation. “You see…” She steps forward pushing the duo back and through the door to the nursery. “Yes, knocking on the door will grant you good luck, but no one who has ever come here” she waves her hand, a magic aura surrounding the two lovers. “Has ever made it out of here to reap that reward!” With another wave both girls are sent flying into a crib on the adjacent wall of the nursery, the pink smoke around them disorienting them. “Wait please, we didn’t mean to bother you or anything!” Selina shouts as she is flung to the infantile bed. “And yet here you are, bothering me, right before my favorite holiday!” The witch turns around waving her hand, as the door starts to shut an ominous voice begins to boom through the room. “If you can make it out of this house and knock on my door, you shall be rewarded, if you do not by the time Halloween comes, this is where you will remain forever, as my babies!” the voice thundered as the two girls cowered in the crib. The magic mist faded away and all that was left was the nursery, the smell of baby powder, and two girls now wearing frilly pink dresses and two thick diapers… one of which was already wet. Chapter 2 ExFic “The biggest adventure you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams” -Oprah Winfrey Liz looked over at Selina, her eyes wide, the cute dress she was wearing had ridden up and under it there was clearly a very wet diaper. She was shocked and looked down at herself, her own diaper sticking out from the dress, though mercifully, dry. “Sil… your diaper is uh…” Liz said in a reserved tone, pointing toward the yellow diaper. Looking down Selina gasped and tried to pull her dress down over the garment. “Hey, I was scared alright… we got thrown into a giant crib…” She screamed back, blushing a deep shade of red, the warm diaper cooling around her crotch. “I don’t even remember doing it… that was just so, sudden.” Liz looked at her girlfriend, unusually bashful as she attempted to cover the frankly massive diaper peeking out from her dress. “It is okay, I get it… this whole situation is so weird… I just don’t understand what we are supposed to do.” She looked around the room, a standard nursery by any stretch of the word… though it seemed that everything had increased in size, or perhaps, they had shrunk. I guess that isn’t the craziest thing to think given their current situation. Selina looked over at Liz and saw her clearly lost in thought, the face she used for think very familiar to her partner. It almost looked funny, such a serious face on someone currently wearing the most adorable outfit a 2 year old ever wore, her diaper poking out as she sat with her legs spread wide. “I think… Okay, so it is clear that the witch is definitely magic, I mean, this nursery is huge, I honestly almost feel like an actual baby looking around it. She said we had to get to the front door and knock right?” Liz looked over at Selina. “Yeah, she said by tomorrow we had to knock on the front door…” Sil was almost amazed by how quickly her lover could focus down and start making plans, it was truly amazing, that is why she was the smart one I guess. “So, what do we do?” “Well first, we need to get out of this crib, we aren’t going to be able to do anything in it, besides maybe use our diapers and resign ourselves to a fate of witch babyhood.” She shivered at the thought. The crib's side railing had raised when they were thrown in, almost mimicking the bars of a cell, both girls looked around for any unusual things that could be used to escape. Eventually Liz found what looked like a latch, just barely out of reach. “Come over here Sil! I found a latch!” She said excitedly pointing up at the side of the crib. “I can get on your shoulders and reach it I think!” Selina waddled over in the crib to Liz and smiled looking up. “Alright yeah, get on my shoulders here!” Said the muscular girl leaning down for her partner. Liz slowly made her way around her girlfriend, the diaper hindering her movement and crinkling with every step on the plush crib. Getting behind her she would climb on Sil’s shoulders, her diapered crotch pushing into the back of her head. Selina smelt the baby powder in the thick diaper as it pompfed against the back of her head, it felt weird, her girlfriends pussy being so close yet blocked by such a babyish undergarment, for some strange reason, the slightly older girl found herself a little turned on by the situation. Lizzy reached up, her diaper pushing further into Selinas head, her fingers just barely able to reach the latch. “Stand up a little Sil! I can almost reach it!” Selina tried to get her ground and stood up as straight as she could, allowing her girlfriend to just barely reach the latch to the crib. As her fingers made it around and the latch clicked out of place, the front bars would come swinging down suddenly startling both of the girls, both falling down to the plush mattress of the crib, luckily their bottoms protected by their thick diapers. “So… it looks like we made it through the first obstacle huh?” Liz said smiling over at Sil, who now had a look of exhaust on her face, unusual for the stronger girl from so little weight lifting. “Are you okay?” “What? Um, yeah I am fine, I just uh, fell…” She said through breaths, feeling surprisingly tired, worrying the girl. “I think I am just tired, you know, a lot has happened today.” She said pushing off the weakness she was feeling in her legs, something from the witch clearly making her feel weaker. “Okay… you can talk to me Sil…” Lizzy said, patting her on the back and giving her a little kiss. “For now though, why don’t we climb out of this crib and find a way out of this nursery! We have a door to knock on.” She said standing up to her feet with a little wobble, wincing at how the diaper spreads her legs. Walking over to the edge and looking down, Liz saw the nice colorful carpet was not too far away, probably would be fine if they shimmied down like a toddler getting off the bed… weirdly fitting given their current situation. “Okay honey, I think we can get down pretty normally, so get your butt up and get a move on!” Walking back over Liz gave a light smack on Sil’s wet diaper, now cold, causing the taller girl to jump and start moving. “Hey what was that for!” She screamed back at her girlfriend, her hand going to the back of her diaper. “Can’t have you moping around and wasting our time Sil, so if I have to pop that little diapered butt of yours to get you moving I will do it, unless you want to end up in those diapers for the rest of time?” Lizzy said confidently as she got to the edge of the crib and turned around, slowly starting to let herself down. Selina was surprised by the confidence being shown by Liz, it was unlike her to be so assertive with her, though, she kind of liked it. She felt the back of her wet diaper again, a light shiver going through her spine. She quickly followed in her partner's footsteps and crawled her way over the edge of the crib, slowly letting herself down. Both girls landed on the carpet and looked around, noting the slew of diapers under the crib. Looking forward they would see the door only a short distance away from where they were, a small play area with some toys in front of them. “So I guess… we just go to the door?” remarked Selina with a bit of hesitation, feeling like something was off. “I mean… where else would we go?” “Yeah I suppose, just… be careful, we don’t know what to expect… this is the nursery of a witch after all.” Moving forward Liz would continue looking around, waiting for some sort of monster to attack or trap to spring, though it seemed like just a normal nursery. They continued forward passing some stuffed animals on the ground, as well as one of those block toys that babies play with. Moving forward they both took care not to actually touch any of the items. It wasn’t long before they found themselves at the large nursery door, adorned with fun letters and colored pictures. The door handle was surprisingly within reach of the two diminished girls who sighed in relief. “Okay, let's do this…” said Selina as she reached up and grabbed the door handle pulling it down… only to notice, it didn’t budge. “Hey what the fuck… the door is locked..” “Really?” Liz reached up, passed her and grabbed the door knob, it proceeded to turn without hesitation and the door opened revealing a hallway. “Seems fine to me…” She said taking a step out of the room cautiously. “What kind of load of bullshit was that?” Said Sil as she stepped forward and suddenly was pushed back by an invisible force from the door. “Hey what the fuck! You let her through!” Suddenly the witches voice boomed through the nursery in a sing-song tone. “Uh oh, a baby is trying to leave the nursery! I can’t let that happen honey, not unless you are able to get alllll the way to this door with a clean diaper. Can you prove to me that you are a big girl?” The voice cut out. “Well what the hell! So I can’t move on without a new diaper? What kind of weird thing is that!” Sil said in anger, still sitting on her wet diaper upset. Looking absolutely adorable to her girlfriend as she pouted. Stepping back inside Liz smiled at her and patted her back “No big deal, we just will get you a new diaper from under the crib and change you into it, walk back over, and we are all good!” She said with a positive tone. Suddenly the door to the nursery slammed shut, scaring both girls as they looked at it. The letters on the door began to rearrange. They now showed a time limit, ten minutes it looked like. With another startle they would hear the music box in the room begin to play a nursery rhyme. “Well shit… that can’t be good.” Said Sil standing up next to her girlfriend. Looking back they both noticed the timer begin to count down on the door. “Guess we have to hurry… I wonder what happens if we fail…” Said Liz grabbing her girlfriend's hand and starting to bring her forward. “Let’s not find out okay?” Both of them started moving forward into the nursery, when suddenly Lizzy noticed something off, the playroom floor looked a little bit different. The stuffed animals… were missing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at a story and I wanted to clarify one thing. This is at its core a transfem MTF transformation story. As a trans woman I have some experience with the feelings, emotions, and hurdles of this, but I absolutely do not have a cis woman's perspective on anything. There will be sex and body exploration moments, and as someone without a vagina I had to research what this is like. Hopefully it doesn't come across like some dumbass virgin wrote it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy ------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 1: In Which She Makes a Wish Ryan stared in awe at the being hovering before him, a beautiful woman with long flowing chestnut colored hair held in a ponytail by a turquoise band, a matching bedlah top covering her chest, and gold bands around her wrists. Piercing blue eyes regarded the boy, a hint of a smile touching them. However the most notable thing in Ryan's estimation was that just below the navel her body ended and below that she was made of a lavender smoke that endlessly emanated from an ornate antique bottle, twisting and flowing in eddies and swirls that seemed to hypnotize him as he beheld the being before him. “Well met, Master,” intoned the strange ethereal woman. “I am known as Sisu the Giving, genie of the bottle. I give you my most humble thanks for freeing me. In return I shall grant you all your heart’s desires. May I ask the name of my Master?” Ryan stared slack-jawed. He had found the bottle in an antique shop tucked away in an alley that he’d never meant to go down in the first place. He’d bought it as a gift for his girlfriend’s birthday. Andrea loved antiques and Ryan had thought she’d love the bottle especially, but when he pulled out the stopper this was the very last thing he’d expected to happen. Finally after a moment of stunned silence he spoke to the genie before him. “I’m, uh, Ryan,” he said lamely. “You…you're really a genie? I mean, uh, obviously you must be, but…I didn't know genies were real.” “Indeed I am,” Sisu the Giving said. “Alas, my kind are rarer in this age. I can feel only three others of my kind left in this world. Many of us have passed to realms beyond, or shall never be found again and have wasted away. ‘Tis a great tragedy, but unfortunately not one that I may remedy, for my bond is to you, my Master. As he who has freed me I am bound to your eternal servitude. As they say, your wish is my command!” Sisu smiled brightly and twirled in midair as bright glittering sparks flew about her from her fingertips, painting her as the very picture of ethereal beauty. Ryan was awed by her, still hardly believing what was happening. “Wish? You mean you can really grant any wish I want?” he asked. “Of course, my Master! I shall grant anything you desire. Fame, fortune, love, anything you ask of me shall be yours!” Ryan paused, suddenly wary. “Hold on,” he said cautiously. “In stories genies aren't always so kind in granting wishes, there's always some kind of twist.” Sisu’s eyes twinkled as she regarded her new master. “Indeed,” she agreed. “Many of my kind have done these things. I, however, shall not warp your wish into some unfavorable or nefarious outcome. Your wish shall be granted perfectly and according to your true desire.” Ryan waited for a moment for Sisu to speak. “But…?” he prompted. Sisu smiled a wan and dry smile. “Of course,” she confessed, “a price must be paid. For everything you receive something from you shall be taken. This thing I will not tell you and you shall not know until it is gone, but I give you my solemn vow that neither you nor those you love shall come to harm, nor shall your wish be tainted.” Ryan considered this. If what Sisu was saying was true it wasn't as bad as the stories had said it would be. However, this could potentially be just as bad, especially if he didn't know what he'd have to give up. Still, the trade-off might be worth it in the end after his three wishes were through. Actually…wait a minute. “Wait,” he exclaimed as the thought occurred, “you haven't told me how many wishes I get!” “That is because there is no limit,” Sisu proclaimed. “I do not limit you to one, three, or even five as some of my brothers and sisters may have. You may decide yourself when the price becomes too high for you to ask for more.” Ryan paled slightly. These trades must be pretty serious if Sisu thought he would give up on his own accord. What would be the breaking point? What would be taken from him that would cause him to quit? And just because something wasn’t harmful doesn’t mean it couldn’t be bad. “That's…different,” he muttered uneasily. “Is there anything else I should know? Any more rules like no killing or no love?” “Nothing of that sort. Love is easy to manipulate, even if it can get a bit unpleasant. If you truly wish someone to die then it shall be done, but the price of ending a life shall be severe.” Sisu’s eyes turned steely and sharp. Ryan could see the weight of her words reflected in her expression as she spoke. “I would also caution against raising the dead,” the genie continued. “It can be done, but things tend to get…messy. Besides these, I give you one final warning.” The swirling smoke comprising Sisu's lower half suddenly shifted inward and formed into slender legs with a gold and turquoise pair of pants to match her bedlah top. Sisu touched down on the floor and took one quick stride to be face to face with Ryan for the first time. She stood at eye level just a few inches away and Ryan instinctively took a half step back. “What is done cannot be undone,” she warned, the severity shining in her eyes once more. “Neither wish nor sacrifice may be reversed. What you get and what you lose shall remain for all your life. Choose wisely.” With her warning completed Sisu floated back up into the air, taking a pose as if she were lounging on a chair, her head propped on her arm and her legs crossed, all trace of seriousness gone. Ryan swallowed nervously. “So, my Master,” she smiled. “What is your wish?” Ryan regarded the genie nervously. A pit had begun to form in his stomach as he weighed the choice before him. He could have anything he wanted. But was it worth the risk? What could he want so bad that it would be… He paused, and the pit grew deeper. Ever since the lavender smoke began pouring from that bottle a thought had played at the back of his mind, a thought that had grown stronger even as Ryan tried to shove it down, shove it back into the dark place of his mind where he kept it locked. Some days it stayed put, content to stay away, but it was always there, waiting, and on the nights when it broke free it consumed him and left him aching, sleepless, and hopelessly despairing. But now there was no avoiding it, and 27 years of repressing this feeling had finally taken its toll. It was free now, and the thought, that terrible ache, could be made real, and almost without even thinking Ryan spoke. “I…can you…” He hesitated. “Hm?” questioned Sisu, a curious look on her face. “What is it that troubles you, Master?” Ryan could hardly breathe, he felt like he was being choked. He forced himself to take a deep breath and count in his head until he was calmer. 1 and 1 is 2. 2 and 2 is 4. 4 and 4 is 8. “I wish…” he started. 8 and 8 is 16. 16 and 16 is 32. Sisu smiled, and unbeknownst to Ryan she used a tiny portion of her magic to loosen his tongue. She had a sneaking suspicion what his wish would be. It was not the first time she had seen this happen. “Speak, Master,” she intoned. Ryan counted 32 and 32 is 64, took a deep breath, let the pit fill his entire being, and spoke. “I wish I was a girl,” she commanded. Sisu did a midair somersault and landed in front of Ryan, her eyes glittering and her grin wide. Just as she’d suspected. "Your wish is my command, Mistress.” Smoke poured from the bottle, surrounding Sisu until she was no longer visible. At once the column of lavender haze drifted towards Ryan, enveloping her in a soft caress from head to toe. She shivered as she felt herself begin to change. Her short hair grew, lengthening to halfway down her back, light and smooth. Her shoulders and waist began to narrow at the same time as her hips began to widen. She suddenly felt very tight in her jeans and worried about them ripping as she felt her butt also begin to expand. She couldn't be too sure through the smoke but she could swear she felt herself shrinking. It was all too much. She could hardly breathe. It felt as though there was a heavy weight on her chest. She put her hand up and gasped, feeling the mounds beneath her shirt as her new breasts began to swell. She was suddenly very scared of how she hadn't specified anything about this, but there was nothing to be done now. Just as she was beginning to worry that they were going to get too big the swelling slowed and stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief, but tensed again as she heard Sisu’s voice in her ear. “Apologies, Mistress, this next part is going to be a bit invasive, but I need to be precise here. I promise I shall be gentle and make it nice for you.” The smoke receded from her head and feet, gathering at her crotch and moving into her pants. She squealed in fright as she felt her manhood begin to shrink, then let out a soft moan as she felt pleasure radiate from it. She shook and her knees buckled as she suddenly felt the greatest orgasm of her life rock her. Pure ecstasy radiated out from her crotch as she sat on hands and knees, unable to move as the genie continued her work. It came in waves in ways she had never felt before, reverberating through her whole body, shaking her to her core. As the bliss rolled over her she felt the genie moving deeper and deeper inside her new genitals. She could feel things inside her moving, being rearranged, transformed from her previous male organs to her new female ones. Soon the waves of pleasure subsided and she was left panting on the floor. Eventually she was dimly aware of the smoke coalescing in front of her as Sisu appeared again, looking proud and grinning from ear to ear. “I must say,” bragged the genie, “that this may be my greatest work in centuries.” Ryan looked up at Sisu, eyes wide, still catching her breath. “That…that was…” she panted in an unfamiliar high-pitched voice. “I’m really quite good,” the genie said, evidently very pleased. “Still, we're not quite done. There's one last finishing touch.” Ryan cocked her head to the side. What could possibly be left? Everything about her was fundamentally different now, even the world looked bigger. “What-” she started before Sisu knelt down, took her head by the chin, and kissed her firmly on the lips. Ryan's eyes went wide as suddenly thoughts, memories, and knowledge flashed in her mind. How to put on makeup, how to wear a bra, how to manage a period, everything one could ever need to know about being a woman was beamed directly into her head. At the same time Ryan felt something else leave her mind, some small piece of former knowledge taken. Was this the trade? Sisu broke the kiss after just two seconds, though to Ryan it had felt like an eternity. She wobbled slightly on hands and knees, then fully collapsed on her side, whimpering, the room spinning above her. Sisu drifted down to rest beside the poor girl and placed Ryan's head in her lap. The genie began to stroke Ryan’s hair and spoke softly to the new girl before her. “It is alright, Mistress. You have been through a lot. Just breathe and it will pass. Sixty…sixty-ffffff… Ryan's head was still swimming with the process and couldn't really focus properly on her numbers. But as her head began to clear she tried to focus on what was taken from her mind, something important, something she felt like she had all her life that was now missing, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't remember. “What was it?” she asked the genie unsteadily in her new higher, softer voice. “What did you take?” Sisu smiled down at Ryan. “Nothing too important. You'll find out soon enough.” Ryan blinked up at the genie. She was beautiful, and from here she looked almost motherly. As the last of the head fog cleared, Ryan sat up as straight as she could, if a bit unsteady, next to the attentive genie. Did Sisu get bigger? Or did… Ryan propped herself on the coffee table and slowly pulled herself up. Sisu stood and offered a helping hand which Ryan took as she took stock of everything. No, she wasn't imagining it, Sisu was taller than her, but only because Ryan was shorter. She had been at eye level with the genie before but now Ryan had lost at least eight or nine inches. Even her clothes hung weird and her jeans bunched up considerably around her ankles and under her heels. She'd have to have Andrea measure her when- “Andrea!” she squealed at the thought of her girlfriend. “What's she going to think seeing me like this?! I didn't even think about how she'd react! Sisu, change me back! She’s supposed to come over tonight!” Sisu gave a tsk tsk noise and wagged her finger at the girl. “Apologies, Mistress, but as you recall one of my rules was that wishes cannot be undone. I believe there's a delightful phrase in this time, ‘no take-backsies.’” Ryan groaned. Of course, stupid stupid Ryan, never thinking ahead. What was she going to do? “If I may, Mistress,” Sisu said, “I'd advise you to worry less about your girlfriend and more about yourself. You seem to be having some…difficulties?” Ryan looked up at the genie, still helping her stand, wondering what she was talking about, when she suddenly felt something very warm between her legs. She looked down and jumped back in alarm as she saw a growing wet stain around her crotch that was beginning to run down her legs, completely soaking the front of her too-tight jeans. It took a second for her to fully realize what was happening, but when she did she was utterly mortified. “What the fuck what the fuck!” She shrieked. She tried desperately to put her hands between her legs in an attempt to stop it, but to no avail. Under no control of her own she was wetting her pants and could not stop.

The LETO Syndicate A girl wakes up on a bus on it's way to a large, windowless building in the middle of nowhere, strapped to a large car seat, alongside a couple dozen others like her. No doubt you've heard this story before. But I hope I can still surprise you all with my own little twist on the much loved scenario! This one is a lot shorter than my usual stories (mine are usually 40 and an epilogue, though some go way above that), at around half my usual length. It's also very different from my usual stories, but I won't spoil anything. Regression, humiliation, strong Nannies, a strict Headmistress, lesbian romance... it's got it all! Two chapters per week, as usual. Every Wednesday and Sunday. And as usual, if you want two weeks early access to chapters of my current ongoing story, you can sub to my Patreon. You'll also get access to my discord server to discuss chapters there and stuff. And also to tease me apparently. Grr. I hope I've covered everything that needs saying and I hope everyone enjoys this story as much as my other stories! Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, I love reading it all! Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: Arrival The LETO Syndicate – LittleFallenPrincess Pulling against the straps holding me in place, strapped tightly into this stupidly comfortable seat that felt more like a baby’s car seat than a normal bus seat, I wondered to myself how I got into this position. I struggled against the wrist straps first, hoping they would give way, even if only the tiniest amount, to allow me to attempt to escape. But alas, they were on as tight as possible. So when that failed, I tried my legs. I quickly found they too were secured to the seat and I was unable to move them. The best I could do was wriggle, and the only part of me that wasn’t completely secured was my head and neck. They even put a strap around my waist, holding me back in my seat. Thankfully, as I stopped focusing on myself, and started focusing on my surroundings… I saw I wasn’t the only one. And just like me, they were all wearing identical white scrubs. Turning to my immediate left, sat next to the window, I saw what looked to be an angel. Beautiful long, blonde hair… shining blue eyes… petite and looking she was around her late twenties… this girl was beautiful. Like the kind of girl I always dreamed I’d be with, but knew I had no shot with. Not that I’m a bad looking gal, just… this girl was gorgeous. Those dazzling blue eyes were concentrating on the window, looking out into the barren green fields, out into the middle of nowhere. “There’s nothing out there. Plus the windows are tinted…” I said to her, trying to initiate conversation. “Sorry?” She said, quickly turning around to look at me. “If you think you’re going to flag someone down to rescue you… no one can see in. I saw this van from the outside before I was taken.” “Oh… no… it’s not that. I just… it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She asked, sounding so… carefree right now. I looked out of the window at the picture-perfect country scene. “I suppose it is. You… you don’t seem worried…” I said, suspicious of why she sounded so carefree right now. “Neither do you…” She replied. “Oh I am, believe me. But my Dad always taught me to keep calm if anything like this ever happened. To not antagonise your kidnapper. What about you, why aren’t you worried?” “I figured this would happen to me.” “Wait… what? You figured you’d be kidnapped by some shady, burly men in guard uniforms and shoved on a bus with tinted windows?” “Not exactly that… but…” She took one long sigh and looked me in the eyes. “My sister went missing last year. She looked just like me. Only a year older than me too. And out of nowhere… vanished. I spent the last year worried that it’d happen to me too. You hear about all these girls going missing in town… I knew it would happen sooner or later.” “Where are you from?” I asked her, wondering what town she had been taken from, which town she was talking about. Her accent sounded Northern, but I was useless with accents so couldn’t pinpoint exactly where she was from. “Sheffield. Why, what about you?” She asked. “I’m from Bath. Sorry, I was just wondering where your accent was from.” “So… so we’re completely different ends of the country. That’s weird.” She said, rolling her eyes towards the window again. “Yeah… they must take girls like us from all over the country and take us to… wherever they’re taking us. Do you recognise any of the landscape?” “Nope. It’s nice though. Very nature…y.” She smiled, making my heart flutter. “Yeah it’s quite nice. I… I wonder where they’re taking us though, out in the middle of nowhere.” “Probably some secret facility.” She whispered, grinning. “And how do you know that?” I asked. “Just a guess. It’s what I’d do.” I laughed, causing me to gain the attention of one of the guards at the front of the bus. “What you’d do?” I whispered. “Yeah, if I kidnapped a bunch of pretty girls, I’d take them to a facility in the middle of nowhere.” ‘Wait… does she think I’m pretty?’ I thought to myself, my heart aflutter. “And what would you do with them? Sell them? Experiment on them? Fuck them until they’re your obedient little whores?” I joked. She paused for a second, thinking, making me worry I had gone too far with the joke. “Probably just play video games with them and eat pizza.” She grinned. “Remind me to get kidnapped by you next time.” I replied, smiling. She smiled back in what looked to be a flirty manner. But hey, what do I know? I haven’t done the whole dating game thing in a while. “So… what were you doing when you were taken?” She asked. “I was at a bar, getting hammered with my mates. Susie had just ordered another round, and I got a phone call. So I went outside, out into the back alley to take the call, and… that’s when I was taken. Bag over head, injection in my neck… world went black. Woke up slightly as they were loading us all on, that’s when I saw the outside of this bus, but quickly went under again. Then, like you, woke up on this journey to nowhere. What about you?” “I had just gotten off from a late night at work. Walking home… I was followed by a couple of rough-looking guys. Tried to dodge them by heading down another street… but they had backup. Grabbed me, shot me with something in the neck, bag over head just like you. Fun times.” “You’re awfully more relaxed than everyone else on here…” I commented. We both looked around at the other passengers. The ones currently in the same predicament, tied to these ‘car seat’ things. Three guards patrolled the aisle, keeping an eye out on each person. Upon closer inspection, some passengers were still asleep. Obviously whatever drug our kidnappers had used worked differently depending on the person. Some were wide awake… but were gagged. They had probably tried to fight back or argue… or even bite. Some were just like me and my new friend, chatting and trying to keep calm, but there were only a few of those. Most were panicking. “I’m not exactly a glass-half-full kinda girl. Not exactly optimistic in the first place, even before being kidnapped.” My new friend shrugged. “Ah… same.” “Sorry, Where are my manners…” She said, “I’m Sarah.” “Judy.” I replied. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Judy.” Sarah smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Sarah. Hey… just wondering…” “What?” “Can… Can we try to stick together, whatever happens? I think it’ll improve our chances of getting through this in one piece if we watch each other’s backs.” I suggested. “I mean… sure? I don’t know how easy that will be though… We still don’t know what they have planned. And they could easily split us up.” “QUIET!” One of the guards shouted, the one at the front. “We’re arriving…” “Arriving where?” I whispered to Sarah. “I guess we’re going to find out…” Sarah replied, shrugging her shoulders. The bus turned off the main road, down a private road leading to a large prison-like gate. Stopping at what was probably a checkpoint, the front door of the bus opened and the bus driver started chatting to one of the guards outside. I tried to listen to what they were saying, but I couldn’t make out anything at this distance, it’s a shame we weren’t sitting closer to the front. “What are they saying?” Sarah asked. “No idea. Probably just checking in.” I replied. The doors closed suddenly and I saw the gate in front start opening slowly, rattling the whole way. “Looks like we’re here…” Sarah said. My heart was racing as we slowly drove down the long road, towards what looked like a prison complex. At least that’s what it looked like on the outside. But not one of those usual old prisons we have in the UK, but a much more modern one. One that looked more like a billionaire’s nuclear bunker or something, or a super modern art gallery. Just big blocks of white stone with no windows and only one door on the front. That probably isn’t the only door, but that was the only one in view. “That… is an evil villain’s lair…” Sarah commented. “Yeah, not the friendliest-looking place…” I replied, smirking. “Maybe it’s all kittens and rainbows on the inside?” “Oh and teddy bears and hugs?” She laughed quietly, as to not alert the guard. “And pillows and sweeties!” “That wouldn’t be so bad…” “QUIET!” The guard shouted again. The whole bus then slowly came to a standstill, and not a single noise was made as the engine calmed down. “No talking. Or else. No resisting. Or else. No trying to escape…” That’s when I fucked up. “Or else?” I asked. A gasp of around a dozen people or more filled the bus as the guard who was talking stared directly at me, clearly pissed. “What was that?” The guard growled as he walked slowly down the aisle towards me. “I… I…” “I said ‘or else?’” Sarah said from beside me, as if she was willing to take the blame for it. I turned to my side and looked Sarah in the eyes. She just stared back and smiled. “We stick together.” She whispered to me. “Oh, it was you was it?” The guard asked, looking at her. “Yes. I was just confirming…” “It was me. I was just confirming…” I interrupted, before being interrupted myself by the angry-looking guard. “You both want to own up to it? Big mistake. One strike for both of you.” He growled. “And three strikes and we’re out?” I asked, in a cocky manner that I quickly regretted as the tall, muscly man looked down at me. “One strike equals one punishment.” He grinned, cockily. “Ooooh punishment! What, are you going to spank us?” Sarah joined in, laughing. “Have fun later, girls…” He said as he walked off to the front of the bus again, pulling out what looked to be a computer tablet and pressing a couple of buttons on it. I swear I could see a picture of me and a picture of Sarah on it as he closed it down and slipped it back into his large pocket. “That… wasn’t that bad. Though we really shouldn’t have pissed off that guy… it could backfire on us.” Sarah said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m pretty sure it has. But thanks for sticking up for me back there.” I replied, smiling up at her sweetly. “Hey, you said we stick together, right? I’ve got your back, if you have mine.” “Of course. I wonder what punishment we’ll get…” “Well we still don’t know if this is like a sex thing or a prison thing or an illegal experimentation thing. Either way… I’m not looking forward to seeing what we get.” Sarah sighed. “RIGHT! ONE BY ONE. LETS GO BOYS.” The main guard said, as the other two went to the front seats and then just as I thought they’d undo the restraints to get the first passengers off… they just lifted the whole damn seat out and carried it out of the bus! Like… how freaking strong are they? As they carried the first two victims off, out of the bus, my hopes of trying to escape whilst I was unrestrained were dashed. And then a minute later… the guards returned. Taking the next two… they did this a bunch of times, making their way from the front of the bus to the back end where me and Sarah were sitting. They slowly removed each and every victim that they had most likely kidnapped and took them off the bus, without removing them from these weird baby-car seat things. I counted along, seeing how many they had taken, as I couldn’t tell on the way here from where I was sitting, but it looked to be about twenty in front of us… and I had a feeling there were maybe six behind us I think? And before long… It was our turn. “Time for the troublemakers…” the main guard said, taking over from the guard who was doing our side. “I’ll get little miss trouble, you get the bratty little princess.” The other guard didn’t say a word, he just nodded. Uncoupling my seat from the bus, the main guard lifted me up with no effort and carried me towards the front of the bus. And that’s when the pit of dread started forming in my stomach. But nothing would have prepared me for what I saw next. ========================================================= So... thoughts so far? I know it's only the first chapter, but it's not my usual kind of story and so far those on my patreon are loving it, so I hope you all love it too! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next four chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of LETO Syndicate every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Café Obedience The bell over the café door gave a polite chime as Jessica stepped inside, trailing rainwater and resignation. Her coat was too thin for March. Her shoes squeaked—apologetic, soaked with sidewalk rain. She was twenty-two. Drenched. Overworked. Halfway through her second year of law school, held together by caffeine and compulsion. Her jaw locked. Her spine stayed straight, like she didn’t trust what might happen if she relaxed. She ordered tea. She always ordered tea. The woman behind the counter glanced up. Bun tight. Apron pristine. Her name tag said ERICA. Her eyes said something else—something steadier. “You don’t drink tea,” Erica said. Jessica blinked. “Excuse me?” Erica didn’t elaborate. She reached for a cup. “You come in twice a week,” she added. “You never finish it.” Jessica flushed. “Maybe I just like the smell.” Erica’s smile was small. Not unkind. But certain. “Maybe you like the routine.” Jessica hesitated, then reached for her card. Erica reached faster. Her fingers brushed Jessica’s. “On the house,” she said. “For telling the truth.” “I didn’t—” Jessica started. “You didn’t have to,” Erica said softly. “I can tell.” She set the cup between them. Steam curled upward. Then, with a quiet, deliberate tilt of her head, Erica said: “Come back after close.” Jessica’s fingers tightened on the cup. “Why?” Erica leaned across the counter. Not sultry. Not teasing. Measured. Intent. “Because you want someone to make the decisions. Just for a little while.” Jessica didn’t answer. But she came back. By Appointment Only Jessica’s new job didn’t appear on any résumé. By day, she sat stiff-backed in a corporate office—junior associate, overperforming, underpaid. They mistook her efficiency for eagerness. Her silence for submission. But on select nights, she slipped through a different door. One without a plaque. One that didn’t ask for credentials—just certainty. The clients were punctual. Discreet. Respectful, to the point of reverence. They came for discipline. Jessica provided it. It began with a man in finance. High-functioning. Anxious. Aching for someone to tell him when to speak. When to kneel. When to crawl. Jessica didn’t flinch. She learned quickly. Leverage wasn’t just rope—it was silence. Stillness. Eye contact withheld until they needed it. Her voice grew sharper. Her posture, colder. Her gaze—unyielding. And word spread. They called her Miss Jessica. She didn’t smile when they said it. She nodded. That was enough. Discovery It started with a missed call. Jessica had stepped into the back of the café—charging cable in hand. Her phone buzzed once on the counter where she’d left it. Erica glanced down. The screen read: PRIVATE CLIENT. She didn’t open it. She didn’t need to. Jessica returned a moment later, humming faintly, unaware. She picked up the phone without comment. Erica said nothing. Not then. — Two days later, Jessica came home late. Past midnight. Lipstick flawless. Posture too perfect. Emotion nowhere to be found. Erica was waiting. Sitting at the kitchen table like a wife who already knew the answer. “Did they cry for you?” she asked. Jessica froze in the doorway. “What?” “The clients,” Erica said. “Did they cry after you used them? Did they thank you?” Jessica’s jaw tensed. “It’s not like that. What I do with them—it isn’t personal.” “Then why won’t you do it with me?” Jessica looked away. And that—right there— was her mistake. — Erica waited. Not angrily. Not cruelly. Just long enough for Jessica’s silence to deepen into guilt. Then she made tea. The same blend Jessica used to pretend to like. She set it on the table. And beside it—without ceremony—she placed the bib. Jessica blinked. “No.” Erica tilted her head. Calm. Certain. “You don’t get to tell me no tonight.” Jessica’s voice dropped—defensive, brittle. “You’re not my client.” Erica’s reply was soft. Firmer than steel. “I never was. But I am yours. You just never charged me.” Jessica didn’t move. Then: “You think you can control me because I let you once?” Erica smiled. Not smug—just steady. “I think I can because you’re still here.” And slowly—like someone surrendering not to force, but to inevitability— Jessica lowered herself to the floor. The bib went on. The tea was poured. When Jessica hesitated, Erica reached out—one gentle tap beneath her chin. “Let’s start over,” she said. “You call them client. That’s fine.” Her voice dropped. Velvet and iron. “But me? You’ll call me ma’am.” Weeks passed. Jessica kept coming home late. Always after midnight. Erica’s rules shifted—small at first. A different chair. A precise posture. No phone. No lipstick. No illusions. They didn’t name it. But it was an arrangement. Jessica ruled them— The strangers who paid to kneel. But when she came home? The leash belonged to Erica. Not always. Not every night. But enough. Enough to remind Jessica who saw her before the clients, before the contracts— before Miss Jessica ever existed. And more importantly— who still could. It was never scheduled. Jessica never asked. Erica never demanded. But still—every Thursday night, without fail— Jessica came through the front door at the same time. Hair down. Heels off. Voice quiet. She didn’t speak much on those nights. Not unless prompted. Erica didn’t ask questions. Not directly. She offered routines instead. A warm washcloth. Soft pajamas. The bib folded neatly on the counter. The tea already boiling. Rules—but nothing cruel. Repetition—but never boredom. They followed every step like a ritual. Sometimes, afterward, Jessica curled up in Erica’s lap on the couch and said nothing at all. Sometimes she whispered things— Things she couldn’t say at work, Things no one had asked her to confess. Erica listened. Other nights— Jessica resisted. She’d stomp through the door, tense and bristling. Mouth tight. Tone clipped. “I don’t need this tonight,” she’d snap. And Erica, unfazed, would simply say: “Then prove it.” Jessica never could. At least, not for long. Because it wasn’t about need. Not really. It was about what came after the surrender. And Jessica had learned: There was relief in being known. Even in ways she hated. Especially in ways she couldn’t unlearn. Crossing Thresholds Jessica stood among a sea of gowns and mortarboards, the chatter of proud families and beaming graduates filling the grand hall. Her name was called—clear, sharp. She stepped forward—poised, precise—and accepted her diploma. Top of her class. In the audience, Erica sat quietly. A small, unreadable smile played at the corner of her lips. She clapped when Jessica’s name echoed through the room, her eyes locked on her—always watching. Later, Jessica’s world shifted. She cut her hair—no longer soft waves, but sharp angles that framed her face like a verdict. The oversized sweaters disappeared, replaced by tailored blazers with clean lapels, her new style echoing the sleek high-rise firm where she landed her first interview. No more nameless doors. No more whispered appointments. Jessica was moving up. At first, it was just space. A late reply. A missed call. A weekend postponed with a kind excuse. Erica told herself Jessica was busy—focused, ambitious, driven. She always had been. So she waited. She sat through dinners with empty chairs. Walked through rooms still echoing Jessica’s presence. Folded sweaters she hadn’t worn in months. She smiled when they saw each other. Listened to Jessica talk about the firm, the hours, the pressure. She said: “That sounds amazing.” “I’m so proud of you.” “I understand.” And eventually, she stopped saying anything at all. Not out of anger. Not even sadness, really. Just the slow quiet that follows too many pauses. Erica found ways to fill the silence. A part-time job. Morning yoga. Evenings spent in used bookstores, or walking unfamiliar blocks just to feel something shift beneath her feet. She didn’t meet anyone new. She didn’t want to. But she stopped checking the phone. Stopped wearing her collar. Stopped curling up on the left side of the bed. And slowly, she forgot what it felt like to be claimed. Jessica buried herself in work. Contracts. Clients. The pressure of performance at a firm that devoured ambition and called it drive. Her days were sharp. Structured. Her nights, quiet. Too quiet. She told herself she was past all that. But control, once tasted, is hard to forget. And power—even the carefully negotiated kind—leaves a shape in your psyche when it’s gone. She missed it. Not the sessions. Not the clients. The command. The clarity. And somewhere beneath that craving, she missed Erica. Not just the woman— But what Erica had been to her: The anchor in the chaos. The one who saw her. Who held her without trying to fix her. Erica never said goodbye. Neither did Jessica. It just stopped. Like breath held too long. Jessica's Dungeon Erica clutched the encrypted text on her phone again — 7 PM. 12 Holloway Lane. Code LittleLockedUp. Dress sharp. No sender, no explanation. Just the cold command of an appointment she hadn’t asked for — but knew Jessica had arranged. Her blazer was tailored, black, sharp-edged — the closest she had to “domme clothes.” But as she stepped off the elevator onto the third floor, the polished chrome and glass walls felt less like a place to command and more like a courtroom she wasn’t ready to stand before. Erica blinked, disoriented. The harsh edges of the room blurred, as if she were sinking beneath water, the sterile walls melting into a fog that dulled her senses. The low hum of distant voices echoed—indistinct, like a half-remembered conversation from another life. She was somewhere she shouldn’t be. Or maybe somewhere she had always been, hidden behind a glass she’d never seen through. A figure approached—a girl, impossibly young, skin pale and flawless, eyes wide and unnervingly still. The recruit. Erica had seen her before at work, a fresh face polished for the machinery of the company’s charm offensive. Now here, in this shifting dreamscape, the recruit’s smile felt colder, rehearsed, as if she were both the puppet and the puppeteer. The recruit’s voice was a whisper but it filled the room, “You think you know her, but this is where the real game begins.” Two women appeared at the corridor’s intersection, their eyes flickering over her like she was a candidate under inspection. One smiled thinly. “First time?” Erica forced a nod. “Here’s the drill,” the other said, voice low. “No stammering. No hesitation. Don’t say ‘Ms.’ Say ‘Miss.’ It’s a test — to see if you know where you stand.” Erica swallowed, noticing her hands trembling at her sides. Her tailored blazer suddenly felt like an ill-fitting uniform — more a costume than armor. She tried to straighten her shoulders. Tried to summon the voice Jessica used — hard, clear, a blade of control slicing through the air. “Miss Halloran is expecting me,” she said. The words came out softer than she wanted. Almost a question, not a command. The two women exchanged glances. “End of the hall. You can’t miss it.” Down the corridor, a heavy oak door marked Executive Suite loomed ahead. The sign read: Ms Halloran — no “Miss.” No first name. No invitation. Erica hesitated before knocking. A voice from within: “Enter.” She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Ms. Halloran sat behind a sleek desk, eyes sharp, posture impeccable — the picture of control. Without greeting, she said, “Please start.” Erica blinked. For a moment, she was unsure what she was meant to do. Then her gaze caught a tea kettle on a side table. Next to it, a neat bib folded carefully. Her throat tightened. It was the same skit she always did with Jessica — the playful dominance, the ritual. But here, it felt off. Hollow. “Put on the bib.” Ms. Halloran accepted the fabric, folding it around her neck like a silent challenge. Her posture was regal, impossibly composed — every inch the queen of this strange realm. She looked up at Erica, eyes sparkling with something unspoken — mockery, invitation, dominance. “Pour the tea. Now.” Erica sat on the chair clearly meant for a sub — a test carved in velvet and shadows. “Kneel and serve me.” Ms. Halloran knelt, the same fabric folding around her neck like a silent challenge. Yet somehow, she still looked down at Erica. Erica’s voice cracked, a fragile thread stretched thin in the thick, unmoving air. Ms. Halloran held out the cup with deliberate care, offering it not as submission, but as if daring Erica to take it. Time folded in on itself, stretching and shrinking. Each measured movement was a lesson, a correction, a test — and still, control slipped away, dissolving like smoke through Erica’s fingers. She wasn’t leading. She was being led. Then, as if waking from a dream with no beginning, Ms. Halloran turned and left the room. Erica barely had time to register the door closing behind her before a young woman appeared in the doorway — silent, steady, with an almost unsettling calm in her eyes. Erica realized with a jolt that the recruit was younger than her, maybe years younger, yet here she was, commanding with a quiet certainty that made Erica’s own voice shrink inside her. The recruit carried a small bag, which she set carefully on the desk before turning to Erica with a small, knowing smile — not kind, but not cruel either. Without a word, she pulled from the bag a pair of soft pajamas — pale pink, dotted with tiny white clouds, delicate lace edging the sleeves and ankles. The recruit made no motion toward offering underwear. Erica understood perfectly: she was to wear just the PJs. Guiding her with a firm but gentle grip on her arm, the recruit led her down a dimly lit corridor. As they walked, Erica’s shoulders hunched involuntarily. The walls seemed to close in, the polished steel and glass replaced by rough stone and shadow. Around them, figures loomed — older, taller, their presence pressing, making Erica feel smaller, younger, as if she were shrinking into herself. Jessica appeared, slipping through the haze like a figure carved from smoke—commanding, unyielding. Her eyes met Erica’s, sharp and unreadable. “You wanted to know the truth,” Jessica said, voice low, “but are you ready to see it?” Jessica wasn’t really there. This couldn’t be real, Erica thought, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. She wanted to speak, to protest — but the words tangled in her throat, swallowed by the thick, heavy air. The recruit stepped closer, eyes gleaming with the promise of revelation — and betrayal. Then, abruptly, they were out in the cold night air. The recruit resumed her silent grip on Erica’s arm, guiding her through shadows and city noise. Her voice, when it came, was clipped and cold. “Once you get home, you go straight to bed. No exceptions.” Erica’s throat tightened. The recruit’s gaze hardened as she added, “Ms. Halloran treats failed recruits as the subs of their act. In your case… the child.” The weight of those words crushed the last of Erica’s pride. The entire ordeal felt like a fractured dream — hours stretched impossibly long, slow and heavy, yet as the city lights flickered past the window, she glanced at her phone again. Less than an hour had passed since she walked in. Erica’s mind churned over a question she dared not answer aloud: Had she been dominating Jessica? Or had Jessica been dominating her all along? Coming Home Jessica hadn’t expected to see her. Not here. Not like this. She’d arrived early, hoping to prep a few numbers before her client showed. It was just a café near the courthouse—a clean, minimalist place with too many succulents and overpriced espresso. And there she was. Erica. Behind the counter. Hair tied back. Apron dusted with flour. Focused on the register, like she belonged there. Like she hadn’t once made Jessica kneel for hours just for whispering out of turn. Jessica froze. Their eyes met. For a second—barely that. Then Erica looked away, as if Jessica were any other customer. She played it cool through the meeting. Barely touched her coffee. Didn’t even try to look over again. But something was pounding beneath her ribs—quiet, insistent. At the end of the day, she came back. No excuse. No client. Just her. Erica was closing up. Stacking chairs. Washing out the drip tray. Jessica stood by the counter. "Still open?" Erica didn’t smile. Didn’t sneer. Just nodded toward the register. "For you? I’ve got five minutes." Jessica ordered something she didn’t want. Just to stay. Erica handed it over. Their fingers didn’t touch. Jessica didn’t drink it. Just sat in the far corner, watching the woman who used to own her walk around like she didn’t know how to command a room anymore. She didn’t say, "I missed you." She just came back when she didn’t have to. And that said enough. She came back the next day. And the next. Once she stayed until close. Helped wipe down tables. Erica didn’t stop her. She didn’t say much. Neither did Erica. But one evening, when Jessica moved behind her to grab a rag, she let her hand brush against Erica’s lower back. Erica flinched like it burned. Jessica didn’t apologize. Just kept wiping. Another time, she told Erica to sit. Offhand, like a suggestion. "Why?" Erica asked. Jessica didn’t even look up from her phone. Just raised one brow. Erica sat. Not immediately. But not long after. Jessica didn’t smile. Just kept reading. The Offer They were in Erica’s apartment. A shoebox space with half the lights broken and two chipped mugs between them. Erica looked tired. She always looked tired these days. "They offered me a spot," she said, staring at her tea. "Sub slot. Wednesdays. Club on 9th." Jessica didn’t flinch. "I know." Erica’s jaw twitched. "I didn’t take it." "I know that too." Silence. Then: "Thank you." Erica looked up, eyes sharper than they’d been in weeks. "Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you." Jessica didn’t answer. But she didn’t stop looking, either. Jessica suggested they tour a few places. Something bigger. Better. Erica didn’t argue. She didn’t ask about the price. She already knew she couldn’t afford it. Jessica already knew. "I’ll pay," Jessica said. Simple. Unapologetic. Erica flinched. "You don’t have to—" "I want to," Jessica cut in. "More than that—I’ve planned for this." They walked through listings together, but Jessica was always the one asking the questions. Erica just lingered by windows, quieter with every house. The upstairs bedroom in the last place had soft yellow walls. Pale carpet. Morning light. Jessica called it "the nursery." Erica thought it was a joke. Until she stood in it alone. Let the word echo. Nursery. And she saw herself in it. Not as caretaker. Not holding. Not feeding. But being held. Being kept. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask what it meant. But her thumb slipped into her mouth as the image took over. Samantha Back at the apartment—boxes half-unpacked, tea still steeping—Jessica mentioned a name. "Samantha. Partner-track. Big name. Big shadow." Erica arched a brow. "A rival?" Jessica’s smile curved slowly. "A resource." "She’s getting it," Jessica said. "The seat. The title. The corner office." Pause. "But the person in the chair will be me." Erica didn’t speak. Jessica stirred her tea once, twice. "She thinks she’s winning. But the structure wasn’t built for her. It’s already shifting." Erica said, almost gently: "She’s not going far, is she?" Jessica’s smile was faint. Certain. "No. She’ll stay. Be kept close. Given space to unlearn the things that make her so sharp. So brittle." She didn’t look up. "There’s a room being made ready. Soft. Quiet. No decisions. No deadlines. Just rest. Play. Obedience." A chill ran down Erica’s spine. Jessica looked up. "And I want someone who knows where she belongs in it." Jessica leaned in. Her voice dropped. "So I’ll ask once. Are you mine?" Erica didn’t hesitate. Didn’t deflect. Her answer was quiet. Not from fear. Not from habit. But from trust. "Yes, mommy." And this time, it wasn't a submission. It was the foundation.

A few years ago I stumbled upon a DeviantArt story about 2 women competing for thee same job, with one regressing the other in order to get the promotion (hence the name). For about a year I have not been able to find it... The idea and general plot comes from the original story, but direction differs. To whomever had written the original story - Thank you! Prologue The two women sat on opposite sides of the conference room, flanked by senior partners. Both had just completed a competitive summer associate program at the firm. Only one associate position was open. Simon, the youngest partner ever appointed, had worked closely with both candidates during the summer. Instead of relying solely on formal evaluations, she proposed one final exercise: the two would collaborate on a complex internal project, presenting their analysis to the firm's litigation team. The partner overseeing the project would then decide who had shown the sharper legal acumen—and who would receive the coveted offer. Introduction It was Friday evening, and Samantha was still used to going out clubbing. But come Monday, she was supposed to compete with Jessica to become the firm’s newest associate. Tonight, though—tonight was supposed to be one last study session before their showdown. Jessica lived in one of those old-money buildings tucked into the heart of the city. From the outside, it looked worn and stately, almost forgotten. But inside, it had every amenity money could buy. Samantha hadn’t known that—until she approached the entrance and a uniformed doorman opened the door for her with a practiced nod. “The elevator’s out,” the doorman said. “Sorry, miss.” Five flights of stairs later, Samantha understood exactly why Jessica had insisted she come over. “It’s just easier,” Jessica had said, brushing off every other suggestion. “More private. No distractions.” Jessica’s apartment was small and quaint, almost unexpectedly so. It had high ceilings, antique light fixtures, and a strange kind of quiet that came with thick old walls. As Samantha caught her breath, Jessica offered a casual explanation. “It was my grandmother’s,” she said, pouring two glasses of sparkling water. “She moved to the suburbs last year—health stuff, and the weather, you know. I just pay some honorary rent to keep the place warm.” Samantha raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Of course Jessica would have access to a place like this—a perfect blend of charm and privilege. Still, this wasn’t the time to get distracted. Monday was coming. And tonight, they were supposed to be friends. Locked In Samantha remembered the wine spritzers from the night before. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Her head throbbed as she sat up, and the room—her room, she thought—looked the same, but not quite. The antique light fixtures hummed faintly above, their buzzing no longer mechanical but alive somehow. Watching. The air felt colder, like the apartment had exhaled overnight. Something had shifted. Something had begun. She also remembered… an office party? Had there been one? The laughter hadn’t sounded right. The guests weren’t colleagues. Not exactly. They had stood too still. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes. Witnesses, not friends. Clients, maybe. Watching. Waiting. Assessing. That memory—or dream—flickered behind her eyes like old film. Unsteady. Sticky. Still dizzy, she pushed herself up and moved toward the kitchen. It was empty. Last night’s countertop—tidy but lived-in—was now sterile. No dishes. No glasses. No coaster. No trace of a human evening. As if someone had wiped everything clean, including the memory of what had been real. She turned toward the hallway, looking for Jessica. Or a bathroom. Or maybe just proof that she was awake. But the farther she moved, the more the apartment unraveled. The floor plan bent subtly, unnaturally—like it was folding in on itself. Curtains replaced doors. Rooms opened into blank white space. No mirrors. No sinks. No plumbing. Just shapes of spaces pretending to be rooms. And then—her name. Whispered, faint. A voice she couldn’t place, but knew anyway. It echoed like a breeze through drywall. She followed the sound, calling back, but it slipped ahead of her, always a room away. Leading her deeper. Her steps slowed. And somewhere—maybe in memory, maybe not—a hand touched her wrist. Not roughly. Not kindly. Just firmly. “Sign here,” it whispered behind her, pressing something cold into Samantha’s palm. A silver ring. No gem. No flourish. Just polished control. Not a promise. Not affection. A stamp of ownership. The hand helped her sign, like she was nothing more than a toddler. Then it was gone. The hallway was empty again. The front door wouldn’t open. Of course it wouldn’t. The knob didn’t even turn. She tried the windows—sealed, fifth floor, inert as screens in a dream. Her chest tightened. Then, it began. First: the argument from last night. Gone. She couldn’t recall the case law they had debated. The structure faded next—the doctrine, the analysis, the definitions. Her JD dimmed behind her eyes like a dying lightbulb. She reached for a statute and found only dust. Then came college. Concepts she once wielded like tools slipped from her mental shelf. High school years began to blur. Middle school collapsed in on itself like a paper model soaked in water. She stood in the skeletal hallway, knees weakening, breath stuttering. Elementary school. Shapes. Colors. Her address. She tried to name the months. The days of the week. Gone. And then, finally, letters. A tune hummed through her skull, sweet and slow—a lullaby, maybe. A song. Something she hadn’t heard in decades. Her lips moved with it without meaning to. And warmth spread suddenly down her thighs. Her eyes widened. She had forgotten— She froze. Jessica Outside, the evening had cooled. The city was quiet in that hushed, watching way it sometimes gets—when the work is done but judgment hasn’t yet arrived. A car waited at the curb, engine low, headlights slicing through the dusk. The doorman sat behind the wheel, hands steady at ten and two. He didn’t look up when Jessica stepped outside. Her heels clicked softly against the marble as she descended the stairs—five flights, unbothered. She moved like someone leaving a meeting, not a scene. She slid into the passenger seat and set the leather tote in her lap. As the building disappeared in the rearview mirror, Jessica unzipped the bag and sorted through its contents: ID, credit cards, keys, laptop—all the ordinary bones of a modern life. She removed Samantha’s driver’s license and studied it under the dashboard light. Then she slipped out an identical card—same name, same number—but the photo had changed. Her own face stared back, perfectly lit, DMV-official. She slid the new card into Samantha’s worn wallet, then dropped the original into a slim envelope. “Bank drop,” she said, handing it to the driver. “No prints.” The man gave a slight nod, never taking his eyes off the road. Minutes later, they pulled up in front of Samantha’s apartment building. Jessica looked up at the windows—dark, uncurious. She stepped out with the tote, leaving behind her own purse, phone, and everything else with her real name on it. She walked past the car without a word, heels whispering against the pavement, and slipped into the building’s side entrance. She moved through the lobby and descended the back stairwell to the underground garage. It was nearly empty, dimly lit, half-forgotten. Samantha’s car was there—exact spot, firm decal on the windshield, a faint trail of brake dust on the floor. Jessica stood beside it for a moment, checking the details: tag number, scuff on the rear bumper, the corporate parking permit on the dash. Everything matched. She pulled out her phone and typed one word: To: Driver Confirmed. Go. Up on the street, the car pulled away, slow and silent. Jessica took the elevator to Samantha’s floor. She didn’t need a key. She had the tote—the one Samantha never left behind. Everything was in it: ID, laptop, keys, phone, even the apartment fob clipped to a leather loop. Inside the unit, she moved with familiarity. The place was modest, warm, filled with the quiet chaos of a young professional’s life—books on the coffee table, a half-empty French press on the counter, court filings open on the couch. She made a quick pass through the apartment. No cameras. Everything was moving according to schedule. At the door, she paused. The tote was still in her hand, Samantha’s name faintly embossed on the leather tag. Jessica placed it gently by the coat rack. She opened the laptop—no password. The joint report sat untouched since last night. She copied it to a flash drive, then checked the email. Nothing sent. Nothing suspicious. She opened a private browser window and accessed the surveillance system in the other apartment—the one where Samantha was. Four camera feeds flickered on: bedroom, hallway, kitchen. And the living room. Samantha was there. Curled up on the couch under a throw blanket, one leg dangling, face turned toward the cushions. Her breathing was shallow but steady. Still asleep. Still forgetting. Jessica watched for a moment, unmoved. Then she closed the laptop. She didn’t need it anymore. She turned, walked down the hall, and stepped into the bedroom. Not hers—but it would be. She lay on the bed, arms folded over the blanket, fully clothed. Her eyes stayed open a while longer, staring at the dark ceiling. Then they closed. Jessica moved through Samantha’s apartment with quiet purpose. It wasn’t large, but it was respectable—neutral-toned furniture, overpriced minimalist art. The kind of place someone with a future lived. Someone on track. Someone who mattered. She opened the blinds. Morning light spilled across the hardwood floors. Dust motes drifted in the still air—unnoticed by Samantha anymore. Jessica had already forwarded the mail. Changed the voicemail greeting. Updated the firm’s HR system with a note: mental breakdown, suspended pending medical review. No one had called to question it. Not yet. She spread out the documents from last night on the kitchen table, carefully reviewing each signature and initial. Everything was in order. Jessica wasn’t just in possession of Samantha’s apartment now—she was officially her legal guardian. At exactly 9 a.m., a firm knock echoed through the apartment. Jessica glanced at the clock—right on schedule. The doorman—now her trusted assistant in this carefully orchestrated takeover—stood at the door, flanked by a small, efficient team carrying flat boxes and bins. Without hesitation, Jessica stepped forward and led them through the living room to the guest room. “This is the space,” she said, pushing the door open. The team entered, taking in the futon, desk, and a few dusty law school boxes. Jessica’s voice was calm, measured. “Strip everything out. Replace it with soft, safe furniture—no sharp edges, nothing heavy. I want it comfortable, but controlled.” The team nodded and immediately set to work. Jessica watched the first few moments of the transformation, then turned toward the door. She had more important things to do. Jessica slipped Samantha’s leather tote onto her shoulder, the familiar weight settling against her hip. Inside were the keys, the laptop, the phone—the tools of a life she was about to step fully into. Her own belongings—gone. No loose ends. This was the first test. The moment she walked out as Samantha. Her heart didn’t race. It didn’t even flutter. It was cold, to be precise. She glanced once more at the surveillance feed: Samantha still rocked softly on the floor, lost to the world Jessica was about to inherit. Taking a deep breath, Jessica closed the door behind her. As she took the elevator down, she checked the apartment’s surveillance feeds on her phone. Samantha was curled up on the floor, rocking slightly. She’d clearly wet herself. She hummed now—something tuneless, soft. Her hair was matted. Her thumb hovered near her mouth. A thin line of drool traced from the corner of her lips. Jessica smiled. Jessica arrived ten minutes early—better to be waiting than caught off guard. She wore Samantha’s tailored coat, Samantha’s ID slipped neatly into her wallet, and the lipstick on her lips was the exact shade Samantha favored. She ordered Samantha’s usual: oat milk flat white, no sugar. Handed over the credit card. The barista glanced at the name. “Samantha?” Jessica smiled—small, controlled. “Yes.” First test. Passed. She claimed a corner table by the window, back straight, phone untouched, eyes calm and alert. When Erica arrived, she spotted Jessica immediately—and softened, like a well-trained dog recognizing its handler. She wore a pale sweater with a cartoon bunny, soft pink leggings, light-up sneakers blinking faintly with each step. Jessica rose halfway to meet her. “Hi, sweetheart.” Erica’s shy smile bloomed as she slid into the seat opposite. “You remembered my order?” Jessica nodded, sliding the second drink forward—warm milk, lightly sweetened with vanilla. A child’s comfort in an adult’s cup. They talked lightly, the casual rhythm of normalcy. No mention of restraints. No whispers of Samantha’s shaking, her drugged breath. Just coffee, warmth, routine. Then, after a pause: “Want to help me shop for her?” Erica’s eyes brightened. “For the girl?” Jessica sipped. “Yes. For the girl.” They stood together. Jessica took Erica’s hand as a mother might guide a toddler—fingers curling firmly. Instinctively, Erica’s thumb found its way toward her mouth. The pharmacy. They moved slowly through the aisles. Jessica carried the basket; Erica trailed, quietly suggesting: powder-scented lotion, soft burp cloths. Jessica accepted only what was necessary. In the clothing section, Erica held up a pink onesie with glitter trim. “This one’s cute.” Jessica studied it. “Too young. She’s further gone—but not that far. Not yet.” Erica flushed and quietly replaced it. Jessica paused at the sleep sacks, selecting a neutral cotton one and adding it to the basket: extra absorbency briefs no-rinse shampoo childproof locks training spoons wipes At checkout, the clerk glanced between them. Erica stood slightly behind now, thumb near her mouth, eyes lowered. He hesitated, eyeing the items, then Erica—still sucking her thumb— “For her?” Jessica’s gaze didn’t waver. She handed over Samantha’s card. “No,” her voice cool, even. “She already belongs to me.” Then, holding his uncertain stare: “A new one is coming.” The clerk forced a nervous half-laugh. Jessica didn’t smile. She held his gaze until the payment processed. The clerk took the card and tapped a few keys. Then he paused. “Do you have ID to match this?” he asked, glancing back up. Jessica didn’t blink. “Of course.” She reached into Samantha’s tote, pulled out the wallet, and slid the DMV-issued card across the counter. The photo. The name. The number. All matched the card. He studied it for a beat too long. The overhead fluorescents hummed. Jessica didn’t shift her weight. Didn’t breathe too shallow. Just watched him, pleasantly patient. Then—beep. The register accepted the payment. He handed back the card and receipt. “Have a good one, Samantha.” The second test passed. Outside, Jessica turned to Erica, voice soft but firm. “Remember—the party tonight. You’re dressing up as a grown-up.” Erica nodded slowly, thumb slipping from her mouth, eyes flickering with something unreadable. They parted ways—Jessica heading back to Samantha’s, Erica lingering a moment longer in the shadow of the ordinary. Jessica’s heels clicked sharply against the cracked concrete of the underground garage. The space was cavernous, shadows pooling in every corner, swallowing the muted glow of the flickering fluorescent lights. The stale, metallic scent of oil and dust hung thick in the air. She approached Samantha’s car—its cold metal frame sat like a tomb, the faint haze of stale cigarette smoke lingering just beneath the driver’s seat. The parking permit on the dashboard gleamed under the harsh light, a quiet reminder of the life she was about to inherit. Jessica slid into the driver’s seat with practiced ease, her fingers brushing the smooth leather. The engine roared to life with a low growl that echoed unnervingly off the concrete walls. She gripped the steering wheel, eyes narrowing in on the rearview mirror. Her reflection stared back—calm, composed—but behind the glass, the shadows seemed to ripple, as if the darkness itself watched and waited. She turned off the garage lights, the car’s headlights cutting through the gloom like twin beacons, then pulled out slowly, the tires crunching softly over scattered debris. As she emerged onto the empty street, she pulled Samantha’s phone from the tote and scrolled through the contacts. Maya – (work, but more) Jessica tapped the call button. Two rings. “Sam?” The voice was fast, alarmed. “Oh my God, where have you been?” Jessica let just enough breath catch in her throat. “Hey. I’m okay. I just… needed time.” The drive blurred past fractured streetlights and empty intersections. The city felt drained of its usual chaos. The quiet made the voice on the phone feel unnervingly close. “Time? Sam, you disappeared. I thought you were dead.” Jessica’s smile curved faintly as she took a left onto a side street lined with shuttered shops. “I had to clean up a few things. Make space.” “You don’t sound like yourself.” Jessica passed under a blinking traffic signal. “Maybe I’m just… better now.” “Are you back?” Maya asked, voice quieter. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Jessica replied. A pause. “You sound weird.” Jessica softened her tone. “I missed you. I’m having something tonight. You should come.” “Tonight?” “Just a few people. Quite. Familiar.” Maya hesitated. “Why not, I can’t miss it.” “Great!” Jessica replied before Maya could reply. She ended the call before Maya could say goodbye. The car rolled to a stop outside the crumbling apartment block. Jessica didn’t move. Just watched the darkened windows. Test three – Passed. Scene of the Crime When she arrived, the building loomed before her like a wounded beast—its stone facade cracked and stained by years of neglect, windows dark and uninviting. Jessica’s heels echoed on the pavement as she crossed the parking lot toward the side entrance, the sound sharp and deliberate. The elevator was slow, groaning and rattling as it crept upward. Each floor passed with a prolonged creak, the dim light flickering, threatening to fail. The air inside the cab was thick and stale, pressing against her skin like a physical weight. Jessica’s breath hitched slightly—not from fear, but from a cold anticipation that tightened her chest. The doors finally groaned open, revealing a dim hallway. The air hit her immediately: not just stale, but alive with rot. A wave of stench rolled out—thick and inescapable. It was human. It was Samantha. The acrid sting of urine hung heavy in the air, layered beneath it the sour reek of feces, and something subtler—something that hinted at rot and abandonment, like flesh too long ignored. It clung to the walls, soaked into the floorboards, radiated from the living room like a heat. Jessica stepped inside. For a moment, Samantha didn’t see her. Didn’t process her. Then, slow and uncertain, her eyes lifted. She saw a woman standing in her space. Familiar somehow. The coat. The hair. The posture. It was like staring into a mirror bent by heat and time—Jessica wore her face, but sharper. Calmer. Cleaner. Smiling with something cold and claiming. Samantha’s mind was a swirling fog — she was somewhere between waking and dreaming, reality slipping through her fingers like fine sand. Shapes blurred, sounds distorted, and the stench filled her nose with every ragged breath — soil, decay, something dead buried beneath it all. She couldn’t tell if she was sinking or floating. Jessica stepped forward. Knelt. The difference in size was uncanny—Jessica seemed mythic, towering, stable amid the room’s slow collapse. From her coat, she produced a pair of scissors, gleaming faintly. Without a word, she began to cut. Jessica moved the scissors with slow, deliberate care, the sharp snip echoing softly in the hollow apartment. Each clump of Samantha’s greasy hair fell to the floor like discarded memories, dark and lifeless. The air was thick with the stench of soil and death—an oppressive presence that seemed to seep into Jessica’s bones rather than repel her. Jessica leaned closer, her voice low and unnervingly sweet, a lullaby twisted by darkness. “This is your first day with me,” she murmured, fingers grazing Samantha’s clammy forehead as if soothing a restless infant. “No more worries, no more bad days. You’re safe now. I’ll take care of you.” Samantha’s eyes fluttered open, wide and glassy, but unfocused—like a child waking from a foggy dream. It took her a long moment to realize who stood over her: a towering figure whose face was familiar, yet alien. It was her own reflection, warped, but with a different mask—Jessica’s. Jessica’s hand trembled slightly as she combed through the tangled mess of hair, then began to cut. Strands fell away, revealing the pallor of Samantha’s scalp beneath. With every snip, the woman she was seemed to shrink, folding in on herself, becoming smaller and smaller—less a woman, more a child, more a ghost of herself. The light flickered above, the shadows stretching and twisting like living things, swallowing the edges of the room. “Such a big girl… but you’re small now,” Jessica cooed, voice thick with false tenderness. “You don’t need to worry about being grown up anymore. It’s time to rest, little one.” Samantha’s breath caught. The air felt heavy, thick like damp earth pressed against her lungs. Her limbs twitched, small spasms of resistance, but they faltered. Jessica reached for a damp cloth, cold and sterile against Samantha’s fevered skin. She wiped gently at the grime crusted on her cheeks, her touch the first real contact Samantha had felt in hours. Only then did Samantha’s eyelids finally fall closed, surrendering fully to the blackness creeping at the edges of her mind. The room seemed to tilt, sounds bending and warping—the lullaby inside her breaking apart like glass. “You’re mine now,” Jessica whispered, voice steady and sure, not a threat but a fact carved into the very bones of the room. She repeated it softly, almost reverently, as if sealing a pact: “Mine.” The world melted away around Samantha—the pain, the memories, the name she once wore like armor—all erased by a darkness deeper than sleep. Until there was nothing left at all. Waking Up to the Party The first thing Samantha registered was softness—beneath her cheek, beneath her limbs. Then came light. Muted. Pastel. Gentle. The world bled slowly into view as her heavy eyelids fluttered open, weighed down by something far beyond sleep. She was in the guest room. That much she knew instinctively—the angle of the morning light, the familiar creak of the ceiling fan, the position of the closet door. But everything else was wrong. The walls had shed their cool gray coat she’d painted months ago. Now, they blushed a soft pink, edged with delicate white trim. Shelves that once held framed photos and books were crowded with oversized stuffed animals and plastic bins of toys. Her work desk had vanished, replaced by a low, rounded dresser stocked with baby wipes, lotion, and neatly folded pastel clothes. A camera blinked silently from the corner of the ceiling, watching. The bed beneath her was too soft. Too low. A fitted sheet patterned with cartoon bunnies hugged the mattress, boxed in by a mesh safety rail. The air smelled faintly of lavender, baby powder—and something synthetic, artificial, like a memory rewritten. Her heart stuttered. Samantha tried to rise, but her arms buckled beneath her weight. Her legs swung off the bed—only to collapse beneath her again. She hit the thick carpet with a muted thump. It was plush. Padded. Like the kind used in a nursery. She pushed herself up again, confused by her own sluggishness. Her limbs felt slow, heavy—as if they weren’t entirely hers. Still, she lifted herself to her hands and knees. And froze. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirrored closet door. Hair trimmed brutally short. Skin pale. A pale pink onesie clung awkwardly to her adult frame, stretched tight across her chest and snapped at the crotch. Around her neck was a white collar, soft and padded, secured with a silver buckle. Her breath caught. Then came the sound—muffled, distant. Music. Laughter. Glasses clinking. Samantha crawled forward, her head spinning. The carpet dulled the sound of her palms hitting it. Her mouth was dry. Her muscles trembled with unused defiance. The door stood slightly ajar. An invitation—or a test. She hesitated. Then pushed onward. The hallway beyond the guestroom was warm, almost inviting—soft golden light pooling over worn rugs and familiar framed art. It looked exactly as she had left it. Yet the moment she stepped in, Samantha felt a weight settle over her chest. This place was no longer hers. She lowered herself to her knees on the rug runner, the coarse fibers scraping against her skin. Every movement was a battle—the ache in her joints sharp and unyielding, her limbs heavy as if they belonged to someone else. The doors along the hallway wore childproof locks—tiny, plastic barriers rigged in a cruel mockery of protection. The bathroom, the master bedroom—everything was locked tight. Just like her, confined. The faint murmur of voices and laughter drifted closer as she crawled toward the staircase. Mid-century jazz hummed low beneath polite conversation, a distant soundtrack to a world she was no longer part of. She smelled wine, rich perfume, and citrus—luxury and warmth wrapped in a velvet haze. But none of it was for her. Her breath caught. The party was alive beyond that staircase—light and laughter pulsing just out of reach, like a dream she could never quite touch. She was outside now. Outside the life she once knew. She reached the edge of the living room. No gasps. No stares. A grown woman crawling in a pastel onesie, collar around her neck—and the party simply smiled. Some guests exchanged knowing looks. Others offered indulgent nods. She was part of the decor now. Jessica stood in the center of the room—radiant in Samantha’s red dress. The one Samantha used to save for important dates. The fit was perfect on Jessica, as if tailored anew. Samantha locked eyes with Jessica—the woman now living her life—and felt a cold, hollow pit open in her chest. Then a woman approached, middle-aged and calm, carrying a small velvet box. She knelt beside Samantha and, without waiting, clipped a white ribbon to the collar. From the box, she produced a pastel pacifier and gently pressed it toward Samantha’s lips. Samantha’s lips pressed shut firmly—an instinctive, final protest. She tried to turn her head away. Jessica’s voice cut through the room, firm and uncompromising. “Put it in,” she ordered quietly but without question. Samantha hesitated, panic rising—then compliance overwhelmed her. The pacifier was forced gently but insistently into her mouth. She tasted the soft plastic, bitterness flooding her senses. Jessica knelt and opened her legs, pulling Samantha toward her. From behind, Jessica began opening presents. Pastel footed pajamas. Teething rings. Rubber alphabet blocks. Samantha didn’t understand why but was drawn to the teething rings and the blocks, while the pajamas bored her. The crinkle of the wrapping paper entertained her more than she expected. Someone gave her “My First Music Set.” Jessica didn’t like it, but Samantha found comfort in the delicate melodies. Then came gifts more suited for an untrained pet—chew toys, a pink leash, a silicone gnawing ring. Finally, a plush puppy with a squeaker and a stitched name tag. “This one’s my favorite,” Jessica whispered, brushing Samantha’s hair. “Look—it even says your name.” The tag read: Lila. Samantha was transferred like a toy to one of Jessica’s friends, lying there on the floor as the woman gently set her down. Without hesitation, the woman removed the pacifier from Samantha’s mouth and put it in her own, sucking on it playfully. Soft laughter rippled from nearby guests—the woman clearly enjoying herself. As she sucked, the woman tilted a baby bottle toward Samantha’s lips. Samantha’s lips trembled, a flicker of protest and confusion rising inside her. She tried to pull away, but her limbs felt leaden, uncooperative. Jessica’s voice cut through the soft jazz and murmurs—clear, calm, commanding. The woman smiled softly and pressed the bottle to Samantha’s mouth. At first, Samantha resisted, biting the nipple gently—but soon the warmth and sweetness overwhelmed her defiance. Her eyes flicked toward the children at the party—dressed with autonomy, treated with respect. Then back to the woman before her, still sucking the pacifier—an image so absurd, so surreal, Samantha wondered if she was dreaming. The woman was fully grown, dressed in formal evening wear, seated above Samantha, her towering presence a silent assertion of control. Just as the bottle emptied, Jessica appeared. Without a word, she pulled the pacifier from the woman’s mouth, “cleaned” it in her own—a moment that stretched like eternity to Samantha—before reinserting it into her lips. The room’s light laughter swirled around her, but Samantha felt smaller than ever, swallowed whole by the infantilizing roles forced upon her. Was this real? Was it a dream? Or a waking nightmare? She no longer knew. Goodbyes & Submission The apartment emptied slowly, guests trickling out with cheerful goodbyes. One by one, women approached, offering soft smiles and gentle pats. Samantha leaned against Jessica’s side, her head resting heavily on Jessica’s shoulder, pacified and still. Though Samantha’s frame was taller—her presence overshadowing Jessica’s slight form—the ease with which she surrendered made the difference feel strangely diminished. The quiet between them was heavy, charged with an unspoken shift. One woman stepped forward and cupped Samantha’s cheek with tender familiarity. It was Maya—Samantha’s best friend. Jessica popped the pacifier from Samantha’s mouth with a soft plop—and without hesitation, slid it into Maya’s own mouth. Maya’s eyes widened in startled surprise, a flicker of shock passing over her face. Yet, as the pacifier settled between her lips, a strange curiosity bloomed—an intrigue she didn’t fully understand, tangled with an unsettling fascination. “Give her a kiss, sweetheart,” Jessica cooed, her voice dripping with false affection. Samantha obeyed, pressing a damp, uncertain kiss to Maya’s cheek. Her lips felt foreign, her gestures clumsy—more infant than adult. Maya smiled softly, eyes flicking toward Jessica with a strange tenderness—as if Jessica were the true Samantha, and Samantha a helpless newborn. Jessica pulled the pacifier from Maya’s mouth and silently reinserted it into Samantha’s lips. Samantha blinked, confused and disoriented. These people—some familiar, others distant—watched with vague amusement, polite detachment, or a flicker of superiority. They saw her. But they didn’t see her. Jessica’s hand returned to Samantha’s chin, steadying it firmly. Her eyes gleamed with a chilling certainty. “That’s my good girl,” she murmured gently. “Let’s get you ready for bed.” Jessica carried Samantha down the hall and into the nursery. The low light hummed softly, casting warm shadows over the pastel walls. Samantha’s limbs hung useless as she was lowered onto the bunny-covered changing table, soft and padded beneath her. She worked quickly, wiping away the warmth and scent that had gathered there, the air heavy with the faint, sour tang of humiliation and surrender. A fresh diaper was unfolded, soft and thick. Jessica secured it snugly around Samantha’s hips, smoothing the edges with a tenderness that only deepened the sense of powerlessness. Once the change was done, Jessica retrieved the pacifier and pressed it back between Samantha’s lips, holding her chin steady as it bobbed gently with each breath. Jessica tucked a soft blanket over her and kissed her forehead. “Tonight’s story,” she said gently, “is about a princess in a faraway land.” Samantha’s eyes fluttered. “This princess… didn’t get what she wanted. Her life was hard. She had to work from a young age, to fight for everything—her education, her job, her dreams.” Jessica’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “But one day, she met someone. Someone who had what she wanted. Her name was Samantha.” “Samantha had the perfect job, the perfect apartment, the perfect smile. She didn’t even have to try. And I knew... I deserved to be her.” Jessica reached into a drawer. Paperwork rustled. “It took two years. But today, I’m no longer Jessica. I’m Samantha.” She held up the forms—documents signed in Samantha’s name. A new identity relinquished. A new name sealed. “And you, my dear? You’re not Samantha anymore.” “You’re my baby. You’re Lila.” Jessica leaned close, brushing a hand through Lila’s cropped hair. “And if you ever misbehave... if you ever try to run... I’ll destroy this new life you’ve built, and I’ll continue….” “And I’ll give the old one back to you—ruined, stained, erased. No name. No job. No voice.” Samantha’s eyes wide, pacifier bobbing gently with each breath, felt the crushing weight of loss. Jessica smiled softly and rose to her feet. “Goodnight, my sweet girl.” She closed the door with a whispering click. At first, there was only quiet. Then—faint, nearly imperceptible—a voice stirred in the hush. That voice. The same one from the apartment. The one that had lulled her, night after night. Calm. Measured. Sweet as syrup. The one that told her she was tired, so tired. That it was okay to give in. That it felt better not to think. Her eyes closed, still not sure if this was reality or dream—as she slipped into sleep. The Final Stamp Inside the apartment, the walls seemed to listen. Morning light filtered in cautiously, as if afraid of what it might uncover. Dust drifted in the still air—slow, unmoored. Samantha wore only an oversized shirt—just enough to conceal the diaper beneath. Every slight motion betrayed the faint crinkle of its padding. Jessica clipped the soft pink leash to the ring on Samantha’s collar. The pacifier, dangling from a delicate ribbon, swayed with each of Samantha’s nervous breaths. She stood motionless. Bare legs trembling. Her gaze lowered, fixed on nothing. She knew better than to meet Jessica’s eyes. Jessica said nothing. She simply lifted the familiar tote bag—Samantha’s old comfort, worn and overstuffed with plush memories. It was Jessica’s now. Samantha whimpered, almost inaudibly. Jessica’s fingers closed around the leash. A small tug. They moved slowly—past the couch, past the mirror— Samantha’s reflection flinched. Pale. Shrinking. A girl she barely recognized. The leash clicked softly—quiet, but final. And the door creaked open. Jessica smiled down, voice warm and steady. “Ready to go, baby?” The soft ding of the elevator chimed as they reached the hallway’s end. The doors parted. Inside stood Erica, long sleeves pushed halfway up her forearms, shoes neat, posture casual. She smiled the moment she saw them—saw Samantha—and stepped aside, letting them in. “I was just stopping by,” she said. Her voice was pleasant, but her eyes lingered—on the leash, on the pacifier, on Samantha. Jessica didn’t respond right away. Instead, she reached out without looking, fingers brushing the cuff of Erica’s sleeve. A quiet gesture. A test. Erica didn’t pull back. Jessica gave the faintest smile. Then: “Of course you were.” The doors closed. By the time they opened again at street level, Erica’s shoes were gone. So was the long-sleeved shirt. Now she stood in a thin tank top—bare shoulders, bare feet, exposed in a way that looked accidental but felt chosen. Jessica walked out first, without pause. Samantha hesitated—then the leash tugged gently. Jessica’s voice was even: “One step behind.” Not to Samantha. To Erica. Erica obeyed. They walked slowly through the street, a strange, unspoken procession. Each step felt choreographed from a dream no one wanted to admit having. They passed a shop window—glass like a mirror. Jessica glanced, then spoke, soft as fog. “Thumb.” Erica didn’t falter. Her thumb slid into her mouth with practiced ease. Jessica kept walking. The café was too normal. Too awake. Sunlight spilled across the patio. Distant laughter. Plates clinking. Jessica ordered with Samantha’s old credit card—her name still legible, her life erased. They sat outside. Samantha was tethered to Jessica’s bag like a well-behaved pet. Head down. Hands folded. Still. Jessica opened the tote, pulled out the familiar container. Unscrewed the lid. Powdered baby food. Vanilla-scented. Synthetic sweetness that made Samantha’s stomach turn. She poured it into a bowl, stirred slowly. “Here,” she said, removing the pacifier from Samantha’s mouth. Her tone was gentle. Almost kind. Samantha’s hands twitched upward instinctively— Smack. Jessica slapped them down. A single, surgical motion. “Try again. Mouth only.” Samantha hesitated. Then bent forward. Lips to plastic. She began to lap. Erica flinched. But said nothing. Jessica continued chatting idly, sipping from her cup like this were any other café morning. Like none of it was strange. Then, her voice shifted. Lower. Calm. “Show me.” Erica froze. Jessica nodded once, slow and deliberate. After a pause, Erica knelt. She reached for the pacifier still clipped to Samantha’s collar. Her fingers hesitated. Then she took it—placed it in her own mouth. Not submission. Something worse. Compliance. Jessica’s gaze remained level. She unfastened the ribbon from Samantha, let it dangle, then clipped it to the strap of Erica’s tank top instead. It looked absurd. Deliberate. Erica exhaled through her nose. Her cheeks flushed. Jessica reached down again and tugged the leash. Samantha rose, uncertain. Stiff. Jessica guided her onto her lap, piece by piece, like a puzzle only she could solve. From her coat pocket, she drew a second pacifier—sleek, untouched. She pressed it to her own lips. Sealed them around it. Samantha blinked. Jessica began to bounce her. Lightly. Rhythmically. Then: a sound. Small. Unbidden. A burp. Jessica froze. Her eyes sharpened. She leaned forward and removed the pacifier from her own lips—a thread of saliva connecting bulb to breath. Then she placed it into Samantha’s mouth. Click. Samantha’s eyes fluttered. Her body softened. Something in her folded tight and quiet. Erica stood up slowly. She brushed crumbs from her thighs. Her feet were bare against the concrete. Jessica didn’t look up. “That pacifier better still be there when I come check.” Erica paused. A breath caught. Then she nodded. And walked away. The leash tugged softly. Samantha began to crawl. The morning air was cool against her skin, but the heat trapped inside her diaper clung—thick and humid. The pacifier bobbed between her lips, its ribbon swaying gently with each movement. She could still taste Jessica’s saliva mixed with the vanilla-laced baby food from breakfast. Jessica walked a few steps ahead, heels clicking crisply on the concrete. One hand holding the leash like it was second nature. Each heel-click: a metronome. Each shuffle of Samantha’s limbs: a reply. A rhythm. They left the coffee shop behind, winding slowly through quieter streets—clean, expensive, private. The kind of neighborhood where eyes turned away politely. Where no one asked questions they didn’t want answers to. Samantha no longer looked up. She didn’t want to see their faces. She knew what her own would show. Jessica began to speak. Not loudly. Not unkindly. Just calmly. Like she was describing the weather. “I suppose you’ve wondered about them,” she said. “The ones at the party.” Samantha blinked. The sidewalk blurred at the edge of her vision. “They weren’t guests,” Jessica went on. “Not in the way you thought. Not really friends. Not strangers either.” She paused to let a car glide past, never once looking down. “They were clients.” Samantha’s breath hitched. The pacifier muffled the sound, but Jessica heard it. She smiled faintly, like reminiscing. “Before I was a lawyer, I found other uses for my skills. Structure. Control. Clarity. And I found people who were willing to pay for that.” They turned a corner. Samantha followed slowly on hands and knees. Her knees ached, but she didn’t stop. “A few of them had very specific requests,” Jessica said. “And I delivered something they couldn’t buy anywhere else.” Her hand flicked the leash. Gentle. Corrective. Samantha picked up the pace. “One of them wanted to see someone taught. Unmade. Step by step.” Her tone stayed even. Almost cheerful. “But not just anyone. Someone strong. Someone proud. Someone who thought she couldn’t be touched.” Jessica’s gaze flicked back—just for a moment. “Sound familiar?” Samantha’s heart thudded harder. Still, she crawled. “The way you looked at me in that office?” Jessica’s voice was still light, casual. “Like I was beneath you. You don’t remember saying I lacked focus?” Jessica didn’t wait for a reply. “I remember. You had your little nameplate. Your view. And I was just another intern, wasn’t I?” A breeze stirred the leash between them like a thread pulled taut. “And when the right client came looking... I knew exactly who I wanted.” Silence stretched. “That party?” Jessica’s voice dipped lower, colder. “That wasn’t for you. That was your final exam.” Samantha whimpered around the pacifier. “Some of it was real,” Jessica added, still walking. “Some of it... wasn’t. But I won’t tell you which.” Samantha flinched. “Maybe the man in the mask was hired. Maybe he was imagined. Maybe the girl you thought you saw crying was just a mirror.” Another tug. Another corner. “You’ll never know, baby. That’s part of the training.” Samantha didn’t speak. Couldn’t. But something in her chest coiled tighter. They approached the familiar building. No. Not hers. Her old office. Jessica’s now. Jessica stopped walking. Samantha halted at her feet, panting softly. Jessica crouched. Brushed a thumb against Samantha’s cheek—not gently, but intimately. Like someone inspecting property. “I didn’t break you,” she whispered. “They did. They trained me to.” A kiss on Samantha’s crown—soft, possessive. “And now, I get to keep you.” She stood. And just as she reached for the building door, she added, almost as an afterthought: “Erica? She’s the only client I still see. But she’s not just a client anymore.” Jessica’s smile curved slightly. Then: a pause. A tilt of the head. Almost tender. “You looked surprised when she knelt. When she took the pacifier.” A faint laugh. “That wasn’t training, baby. That was love.” Jessica stepped inside. The leash slackened behind her—just for a moment. Then it tugged again. Without a word, Samantha followed. The elevator ride was slow. Suffocating. Samantha sat obediently on the floor, legs spread just enough to keep her balance. The pacifier bobbed gently with each breath, a fragile metronome in the confined space. She didn’t try to remove it. She wasn’t sure she remembered how. The faint scent of her own diaper grew stronger, pressing against her senses—warm, sour, undeniable. She said nothing. She was nothing. Ding. The doors slid open to reveal a corridor of polished wood and frosted glass. The air was tinged with eucalyptus and quiet ambition—whispered meetings, starched collars, espresso shots pulled for the privileged few. Jessica walked ahead with steady confidence. Samantha followed on her knees, tethered and silent. In the private office—her old one—a pink mat had been laid neatly in the corner, aligned perfectly with the floorboards. A chair’s foot served as the tether post. Samantha’s fingers moved with absentminded ease, tying the leash to it like one might secure a pet outside a café. She settled quietly. The light sparkled on the windows, reminiscent of the silver stars she once drew in kindergarten—distant and unreachable. Behind her, voices murmured. Familiar names. Legal jargon. Calculated arguments. Strategies once hers. She remembered them all. They no longer belonged to her. The door creaked open. Samantha turned her head slowly. Management was arriving. “Good morning,” said the Managing Partner, setting a binder on the table with deliberate calm. “Shall we begin?” The others nodded. A formal hush settled over the room. “So, Simon,” someone asked casually, flipping to a tabbed page, “who did you pick in the end?” Simon smiled—a slow, knowing smile. “Samantha.” Her eyes widened. That name—her name—hung in the air. But the room didn’t turn to her. No one acknowledged her existence. Instead, Jessica—immaculate, radiant, flawless—nodded with polished grace. “Thank you,” she said smoothly. “I’m honored.” Polite applause followed. Measured. Congratulatory. Samantha didn’t move. She couldn’t. The leash tugged taut against her collar, anchoring her still. The applause stung more than any slap. It had only been a weekend. Just a weekend. And already, she was gone. Her body betrayed her again—a quiet release. Warmth spread beneath her, undeniable and intimate. The smell rose slowly—less sharp now. She was used to it. In that polished, professional room, surrounded by voices that once belonged to her, she felt less like a woman. Less like a person. Not quite a baby. Not quite a pet. She was furniture. An object to be placed and forgotten. No one looked at her. Not even Jessica.

This story was written as an experiment using AI. Now before you freak out and start shouting, let me explain the procedure. I fed an AI a very vague outline of the story elements I wanted to use, and asked it to write a summary. Then I shortened the summary to an AI prompt and asked it to write a story based on that prompt. Finally, I read that story and decided that it was crap and did a complete rewrite from the ground up. (The story only has two sentences that were also used in the AI output, and I'm not saying which two.) After I was done, I ran the whole text through a couple of AI-detectors and they all agreed that it was written by a human (i.e. me). Even though the finished story isn't terrible, I doubt I'll do this again, since it felt more like editing than actually writing. That's my mummy Natasha sat cross-legged on the bed, fidgeting with her scarab necklace, her fingernail tracing the hieroglyphs carved on its silver carapace. The dim glow of a fake candle cast its warm, flickering glow over shelves filled with replicas of ancient artefacts and thick books on ancient Egypt. The night was warm, but the real summer heat and humidity had yet to arrive. "It's not just the wrapping," Natasha said. She glanced up at her girlfriend Alex standing in the doorway. "It's the ritual of it all. The ancient Egyptians revered death. They turned it into something sacred. Mummification wasn't just about preserving the body. It was about preparing the soul for eternity. There's something that's just so... comforting, intimate about the whole thing. Being helpless, but at the same time eternal." Alex raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you've got a thing for being wrapped up like a mummy," she said. Natasha felt her cheeks flush as she looked down and nodded. "But it's not just the wrapping. It's the surrender, the idea of being completely at someone else's mercy, of trusting them with your very existence." Alex pushed herself away from the door frame and walked across the room to kneel in front of Natasha. She put a finger under Natasha's chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes. "Well Tasha, If it's surrender you're after, I think I can accommodate you. "What do you mean?" Natasha whispered, her heart racing in her chest. Alex let go of her chin, letting her finger travel down Natasha's neck to her scarab necklace. "You want to be a mummy?" she purred. "Let's make you one." She took Natasha's hands and helped her up from the bed. "Close your eyes, and no peeking." When Natasha did as she was told, Alex carefully guided her out of the bedroom to the kitchen. Natasha held her breath as Alex let go of her hands. She could hear a drawer opening and closing. Then she felt Alex's hands on her shoulders and her warm breath against her neck as she whispered "Strip". Natasha swallowed, but obeyed, pulling her t-shirt off. Then, with trembling hands, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs, stepping out of them. Alex reached around Natasha, running her hands slowly down her chest to her hips, slipping her thumbs inside the waistband of her panties, pulling it out to let it snap back. "Everything, Tasha. Take it all off." Natasha slipped out of her underwear and stood in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a smile. She could almost feel Alex's gaze. "Much better," Alex purred. She lifted the scarab necklace off, making sure it didn't get caught in her hair. "You can open your eyes now." Natasha opened her eyes to find Alex standing in front of her, holding a big roll of plastic wrap. She felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine as Alex knelt in front of her and began wrapping her legs. The plastic clung tightly to her skin; each layer feeling like a promise and a surrender. "How's this?" Alex asked, her breath warm against Natasha's collarbone as she wrapped her torso. "Tight enough?" "Mm-hmm," Natasha nodded. "It's perfect." Alex picked up a pair of scissors and held it between her teeth like a movie pirate would do with a dagger. "Okay, deep breath and hold still." Then she began wrapping her head. After a few claustrophobic seconds, Alex cut through the plastic covering Natasha's mouth. "You good?" she asked. "Yeah." By the time Alex was done, Natasha was entirely cocooned, her entire body felt tingly and her vision was blurred by the layers of plastic covering her face. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. "You look absolutely fantastic," she said, her tone almost reverent. Natasha felt Alex wrap her arms around her, resting her hands on her butt before lifting her up, holding her like an oversized baby. Natasha's world swayed gently as Alex carried her back to the bedroom. She felt a strange, giddy sense of detachment, as if she was floating through time. Alex's strong arms felt like the only anchor tethering her to reality. Alex laid Natasha on the bed, and stood back, admiring the plastic-wrapped body gleaming under the soft light of the fake candle. "Are you ready?" Alex pulled off her tank top, and began unbuttoning her leather jeans. "No," Natasha whispered hoarsely. "Leave them on." Alex smiled and buttoned the pants back up. Alex traced the contours of Natasha's body, the plastic creating a strange, but sensual barrier. The touch felt muted to Natasha, almost like a memory. She teased her; her fingertips grazing her breasts, her sides, her thighs. Every touch sending sparks of pleasure through Natasha's helpless body. "You're so beautiful like this," Alex murmured, her lips brushing against the plastic covering Natasha's cheek. "So helpless. So... mine." Natasha moaned softly. This was everything she'd fantasised about - the vulnerability, the complete surrender. Then disaster struck. Natasha's body, trapped in its plastic prison, suddenly reminded her of a very basic need. "Alex," she mumbled, her voice panicked. "I need to-" "Shh-shh-shh," Alex soothed, her hand resting on Natasha's chest. "What is it, Tasha?" "I need to pee. Now." Alex's eyes widened, and she cursed under her breath as she fumbled for the scissors on the night stand. But it was too late. Natasha's bladder, unwilling to wait any longer, let go, and a wet warmth spread. It seeped between the layers of plastic and into the sheets beneath her. She froze, her face burning with shame. "Oh no," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes as Alex tore away the plastic covering her face. "I'm so sorry." Alex's expression softened, and she gently stroked Natasha's hair. "It's okay," she said, her voice calm. "Accidents happen. Let's get you cleaned up." She carefully cut the plastic, peeling it away, and helping her to the bathroom. She stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the evidence of her accident, but leaving the embarrassment. When Natasha emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, Alex had already stripped the bed and replaced the sheets. She pulled her into her arms, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. She held her tightly and stroked her back. "You're okay," she whispered. "It was an accident, not the end of the world." "I ruined everything," Natasha said, her voice trembling. "No, you didn't." Alex kissed her cheek. "We'll try again. But this time, we're taking precautions." True to her word, Alex had a plan. She held up a diaper. "Why do you have-" "Lie down," Alex interrupted. Natasha laid back and let Alex slide the diaper under her butt. The tissue paper-like touch of the diaper as she pulled it up between her legs and taped it in place was... strangely comforting. It felt like a reminder that Alex would be there to take care of her. When Alex returned from the kitchen with the roll of plastic wrap, she stopped in the doorway for a second and sighed. "What is it?" Natasha asked, worried that she was having second thoughts. "I'm about to start messing around with a mummy, and I don't even have a fedora." Natasha just looked back at her, clearly confused. "Or a whip," she added. Realisation dawned on Natasha. "You're such a dork." "Maybe, but that's not going to stop me." She held up the plastic wrap. "Ready for round two, my little mummy?" Despite the heat, Natasha shivered as Alex began wrapping her again. The plastic clinging not only to her skin, but also to the diaper, tugging at it as Alex pulled the plastic tight. When she was done, she once again laid Natasha's helpless body down on the bed. Natasha's heart raced with anticipation as she watched Alex slowly wriggle out of the tight leather jeans and panties, before lying down next to her. Unlike the first time, this time Alex didn't hold back. Her touch was firmer, less tentative. Her fingers traced patterns on the plastic that sent jolts of pleasure through Natasha's body. And when she leaned in to kiss her through the small slit in the plastic, their lips pressing against each other, Natasha couldn't help but moan. Alex's touch grew more insistent, teasing her mercilessly. Her fingers dancing across the plastic, never quite touching where Natasha wanted them to. She squirmed, her body arching helplessly against her plastic prison, only to get a hand on her chest, pushing her down. "Not yet," Alex whispered. "You're mine to play with, remember?" Finally, Alex acquiesced to Natasha's desires. She tore the plastic and slid her hand down the diaper, feeling her wetness. She moved slowly, drawing out every sensation until Natasha was trembling with the most delicious frustration. "Please," she begged, her voice muffled by the plastic. "Please, Alex." Alex smiled, her eyes dark with desire as she quickened her pace. The tension kept building and building, to impossible heights; and when the dam broke, a tidal wave of pleasure crashed through Natasha. She cried out, her back arching as her hips bounced off the mattress. As the waves of her orgasm quieted down, Alex leaned over Natasha, carefully tearing away the plastic to free her head. She stroked her damp hair, brushing it away from her eyes. "You did so well," she murmured. "I'm so proud of you, my beautiful plastic mummy." As Natasha lay there, Alex's arms wrapped around her bound body, she felt a warmth spreading through her diaper, pooling under her butt. Her face flushed as she fidgeted. Alex put a hand on her diaper and chuckled. "It's okay," she said, scooting up a little to kiss Natasha's forehead. "It's just us here. And I'm not judging." Natasha buried her face in Alex's shoulder. She was mortified, but at the same time she also felt... comforted? The wetness felt strange, heavy, but not unpleasant. There was something oddly intimate about it; almost like a reminder of how Alex had taken care of her. "I'm sorry," Natasha mumbled. "Don't be, Tasha." Alex's voice was gentle. "You're mine, every part of you." She smiled and gave the wet diaper a little squeeze. "Even the messy parts." Natasha smiled back, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with her diaper. "Now what do you say we get you out of this plastic before you turn into a giant, sweaty prune?" Alex slowly unwrapped her and as she did, Natasha felt a sense of peace. Her mummification fantasy had certainly not gone like she had thought it would, but in the end, it had given her what she needed: Surrender, trust, and the knowledge that Alex would always take care of her, no matter what. She couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, the ancient Egyptians had been on to something.

ALICE Alice is 25 years old. She is a tall girl and has a stature to carry with a remarkable presence. Her bright eyes are like the sky on a clear day, captivating one's gaze and rendering a person a feeling of depth and calm. Red waves flowing around her face frame it, expressing her lively and passionate character. She has a well-toned body, acquired only by a constant devotion to physical exercises, which is visible through her well-developed muscles. The large breasts add a touch of femininity and prettiness to the already prominent figure of hers. SARA Sara is 24 years old. She has black hair and her eyes are dark as the night; with it, she has a quite mysterious and intriguing charm. Compared to Alice, she is of a smaller stature, though her presence is equally significant. Her slender body is almost fragile, with thin lines that, however, stress her natural elegance. Sara has a deep quality of reserve and gravity, usually reflected in her compelling gaze. Her type of beauty is sophisticated and discreet, as well as her character, which often has small notes of quiet inner strength and determination. MELISSA Melissa is 22 years of age and thus the youngest. Youthful, fragile features of her face give the girl a somewhat babyish air and make her instantly lovely and cute. Her eyes are shining with innocence and curiosity, reflecting her lively and playful character. Melissa is slightly above 1.5 meters, and her very small breasts are in perfect correspondence with the slender figure. Even though her body is small, the spirit is big and the energy is contagious to bring joy and lightness wherever she goes. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- " No, I'm not going to wear that just to pay less for our vacation!" Said Melissa, stamping her feet on the ground. "Come on, you were drawn, Sara and I had the same odds as you," said Alice holding up the diaper-it was an adult diaper with childish designs. "I know but it's not fair that in order to pay less for the cruise I'm forced to spend all my time dressed like a 2 1/2-year-old." "Either you put it on yourself or we'll put it on you! " said Alice approaching threateningly. Melissa huffed and took the diaper from Alice's hands. She went to the bathroom, took off her panties and tried to put on the diaper herself. It was a genuine feat: she had to lean her ass against the wall while she held the base of the diaper in place with her legs. After a few minutes She managed to get it in. The diaper was very tight around her, at the top it reached above her belly button in front, tightened at the level of her thighs and then re-opened around her bottom. The decorations were savannah-themed, in the front was a drawn lion while behind the fabric had a lush design of plants, fruits and other African animals. She stopped to read the brand name on the package: 'Reaz Safari'. Who on earth could have worn these things voluntarily. She paused to feel the feel of the diaper on her: it was thick and soft; she could feel the plastic touching her skin. She turned to look at the back. The diaper also covered her bottom, in fact the diaper was so loose that it covered her almost completely, leaving her with the typical look of a padded bottom. Probably if she had fallen she would not have been hurt at all. She turned red when at the first step she heard the typical creak. "Here's your dress," said Alice irrupting into the bathroom. Melissa instinctively put her hands in front to cover the diaper; but then she realized it was quite useless. She did not even try to protest when she saw the little dress; she would have been obliged by Alice anyway. Then there was hope that she had covered the diaper. The dress was white with a black bow at breast level, the skirt was wide and seemed to cover the diaper quite well. She did not realize that if she bent over she would show her rear to everyone. "I hate you," Melissa said as she climbed into Sara's car. Of course, she was sitting in the back. The vacation consisted of a month-long all-expenses-paid cruise. Children up to age 3 were not paid. The plan was to pretend Melissa was the adopted daughter of sara and alice, who in turn would pretend to be a newly married couple. Soon they arrived at the boarding gate where the stewardess was waiting for them. "Well welcome! Your room is on the third floor at the family deck," She said, handing the key to Alice. Then She lowered himself looking at Melissa " hello baby, what is your name?" "Melissa," She said blushing and looking down. " I see the baby is still wearing diapers, no problem our baby care has already put some in your room and will provide you with as many as you need, I hope to see her soon at the baby club" Melissa tried to open her mouth but Alice promptly shoved the pacifier into her mouth to silence her. "Perfect, see you at the presentation, " Sara said, taking Melissa by the hand and heading for the room. It was not easy for Melissa to keep up with Sara's quick pace; her diaper forced her to hold her legs open and walk swaying. Upon arriving at the room, all three were amazed: they had been assigned an entire suite! There was a living room with a sofa and a plasma television, a small bar area, a room with a double bed, and another room was made especially for a child: a crib decorated with a maritime theme, a cabinet full of toys and a carpet with puppets, and finally there was a cambina armadio full of baby clothes suitable for melissa. "Well I guess this is the baby's room," Alice said, patting the bottom stuffed with lemon balm. "Kill yourself," said Melissa, spitting the pacifier at her. Alice laughed, then the three headed for the bathroom. The bathroom had a huge tub, in which all 3 of them would fit easily. At the back was also the changing table: it was a tall, white cabinet with padding on the part Melissa would lie on. On the sides were drawers full of diapers: there were ones for the pool, for the night and for the day, all decorated with different patterns. Finished the sweep Sara undressed completely, putting on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then went to lie down on the couch. "Well it says that we can't leave the room until the ship sails, so we can unpack," proposed Alice. "Can I take off this diaper?" Melissa asked annoyed. "No way, if someone from room service came in? It would blow up everything," Sara replied "At least take off this dress," Melissa said, raising her arms "Aren't you able to do it yourself?" Said Alice. " children don't change themselves," replied melissa. Alice did not respond; she simply removed Melissa's dress and replaced it with a T-shirt. "Aperitif?" Proposed the girl in bundles. "Sure," replied the other two. Sara went to uncork a bottle of white wine and soon returned with glasses. Alice, like Sara received a goblet, while Melissa got her drink inside a baby bottle. Melissa stopped and looked at him for a moment, immediately noticing that the figures drawn were in tone with his diaper. "Why do I have to drink from this thing?" Melissa asked in disgust. "Children don't know how to drink from adult glasses, " Alice said, sticking her tongue out at her. Melissa sighed but decided to give it a try, holding him with two hands at head height, she grabbed the teat with her mouth and tried to suck, immediately her mouth filled with the sweet taste of wine. "I thought worse," She thought. "So child? How is she?" Sara asked, noticing that Melissa was not responding. "Well it's not so bad, I can drink lying down," replied Melissa as she detached herself from the bottle. Soon the conversation of the three veered to the schedule about the month of vacation, which left Melissa on the sidelines-she did not feel much like doing the things that were planned especially when dressed as a child. Solo, however, was happy when Alice ordered more wine. Another half hour passed, Melissa had almost finished her second bottle, when she felt a sensation she never wanted to feel: she had to pee. She tried to resist, but the pressure on her bladder increased more and more. At a certain point she could not resist got up and walked toward the bathroom "What's going on? Where are you going?" Said Alice " according to you? I'm going to the bathroom," Melissa replied. Sara laughed:" your toilet is on you," she said referring to the diaper. " There is no way I am going to pee in this thing" shouted melissa. "Of course you will, and you'll have to get changed, too, since those diapers are designed not to be taken off by the wearer." Melissa could not believe her ears, had no intention of peeing herself like a baby, tried to pull one of the rips in her diaper but did not move "Hurry up so we can get back to chatting " continued Alice. "You're a bitch," replied Melissa, trying to open her diaper. "If you behave and have a tantrum, I will change you baby right away," Sara said. Melissa couldn't take it anymore, she felt drops of urine coming out already. She had no choice but to use her own diaper, like a 2-year-old. Melissa opened her legs slightly and began to pee, felt the flow hit the plastic of her diaper and settle between her legs. She could feel the diaper expanding and becoming warmer, heavier and wetter. But eventually the dampness disappeared, leaving only the warmer plastic. I've already published the next parts to my ream account. Subscribe to get early access to the new adventures of Anna and Melissa. https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon Also there exclusive stories for my subscribers

Dearly Beloved “Stephanie Sweeney, you come out of that bed right now,” Kate sighed in frustration as she yanked on the covers. The mound of ivory and green blankets wrapped themselves ever more tightly. Despite their size, Stephanie’s bare legs stuck out from one end while strands of her crisp wheat colored hair stuck out of the other end. The mound turned itself into a circle. “No way Jose, I am a warm cinnamon roll,” Steph protested. Kate sighed in frustration before dropping the covers and waiting. The mound of blanket shaped itself into a funnel from which two eyes were poking out, “Catherine Sweeney, are you still there?” “Yes I’m still here you dork,” Kate snapped as she grabbed the blankets again and tugged, ripping them clean off the bed. Blankets free, Steph stretched out to her full length, feet dangling off the edge of their queen mattress, hair framing the delicate features of her face. She wore a pink camisole but was otherwise naked. “Steph, what happened to your panties?” Steph giggled coyly as she bit her lip and seductively flexed her hips, slowly spreading her legs. She put all of herself on display. “Why Mrs. Sweeney, you’ve put me in a most compromising position. Anything could happen.” Kate licked her lips as the familiar rhythm of her heart amped itself up. Primary school as friends, High School as girlfriends, College as lovers, and then five years of married life. From the innocent pitter-patter she had felt as a girl but couldn’t understand to the drumbeat of adult passion, she was grateful that the excitement had never died. She couldn’t help but be drawn into Steph’s beckoning to come hither. “Why Mrs. Sweeney,” Kate replied as she leaned in for a kiss. “Don’t you know we both have work today. Now is hardly the time for bestial acts of carnal lust.” “I can’t help myself,” Steph pouted as she wrapped her hands around the back of Kate’s neck and pulled her in tight. “Just the sight of you fills my mind with the most ungodly of thoughts. My little pocket wife I just want to hear you make little squeeks of satisfaction all day long. Kate wasn’t exactly pint sized, though at around five feet tall she was by no means large. Less then one percent of American women were over six feet tall however. Lucky for me, Kate thought, that much more of her to love. The squeeks Steph was asking for came fast as her arm drifted between Kate’s legs and began to play. The gentle waves of pleasure washed over Kate like a current. What strength she had left to prop herself up fled and she fell into Steph’s body, he giant wife’s arms quickly wrapping around her and squeezing tightly. “Seriously though,” she said after taking a few moments to indulge. “Let me up, please? I’ve got to get to work.” She pulled herself away as Stephanie’s arms released their hold over her. “How many dead bodies are you looking at today?” Steph asked as she rolled over from the spot she had been laying in and propped herself up in the bed. “Hopefully none,” Kate replied as she snatched her phone from the dresser. “No text messages last night,” she turned to face Stephanie, letting the phone dance in her hands. “I guess that means no one was murdered, I…uhhh Steph?” “Hmm?” Steph was sitting cross-legged on the bed, the traces of a seductive little smirk still on her face as she blatantly undressed Kate with her eyes. “Are those…skid marks?” Kate’s upper lip curled in disgust. Stained into the bedsheets right where Steph had been lying were two very unpleasant looking spots in the filthiest of colors. “Oh?” Steph spun her head back, glancing at the streaks. “Whoops.” “‘Whoops’? Are you hecking serious right now?” Kate asked. She dramatically flared her nostrils as if an odious stench had crept into them. The unconcerned look in her wife’s face continued t to enrage her. “Don’t just keep sitting in it!” She grabbed her arm and yanked her, pulling her up into a standing position. “It’s….oww! I didn’t mean to,” Steph protested. “Ugh, just get in the shower while I wash the sheets.” Kate groaned. “I dun wanna,” Steph stamped her foot like an impatient toddler. “Just get in the shower you dirty girl,” Kate snapped as she shoved Steph towards the bathroom door. “Honestly, who above the age of three argues about getting into the shower. I’ll hose you down myself if you don’t get in there.” Steph wiggled her eyebrows, “That does sound like fun.” “IT WON’T BE A SEXY SHOWER!” Kate screeched as she pulled the door shut. “I better hear water coming out of that showerhead.” There was a muffled response from the bathroom but it was soon followed by the sound of running water. Kate had to choke back bile as she pulled the sheets from the bed. She could do nothing but stare at the soiled markings. Steph had never been the most hygenic girl but somehow this felt like an awful escalation of some of her worst tendencies. When Steph emerged she did look much fresher. Her skin had turned a tender shade of pink and the fresh scent of lilac soap emanated from her body. At least she had made an effort. “I made your breakfast,” Kate waved her hand at the table. “Sorry Mrs. Sweeney but I’m gonna be late for work if I don’t get going.” She gave Steph a peck on the cheek as she pushed herself towards the exit. “Thanks Mrs. Sweeney,” Steph replied as she sat down at the table, fork practically in hand. “I don’t deserve you.” “I know you don’t,” Kate grinned as she left. * *. * “I mean I don’t want to hecking complain but it was beyond nasty. Then I had to pour on a fake smile because I didn’t want her day to start with her wife being furious with her. She’s under enough pressure already but, I mean, what’s next? Do I have to wipe her ass?” Kate scowled into her phone. She was curled up in her car. The engine was running and the heat was pouring out of the vents as toasty as she could get it. A sprinkling of snow outside threatened absolutely frigid conditions. She sipped from a styrofoam cup. Gas station cappuccino. Her stomach would hate her later. “Would you wipe her ass if she asked you to?” the woman on her phone asked. A pair of thick glasses framed a face whose natural smoothness was giving way to age lines. Salt and pepper hair hung from her head in a sensible bun. A white medical coat hastily tossed over a short sleeve shirt left Kate envious. Kate’s therapist was in southern California. “What kind of question is that?” Kate asked as she took another pull from her drink, enjoying the feeling of sugar and carbohydrates rushing about her body and flushing her skin. “Of course I’d wipe her ass if she asked me too. Why do you think I’m so mad? Of course I’d like her to have better hygiene but, like, if that’s what it took, I’d scrub her every day.” “It sounds to me like you want to baby her,” her therapist replied. “Don’t you think she should learn how to take care of herself?” “Are you kidding,” Kate laughed. “I’ve been taking care of her since we were five years old! Do you know in kindergarten I gave her my juice box every day? She never got to school with a drink.” “Then maybe you’re not helping her,” her therapist replied. “You’re enabling her. She’s been dependent on you ever since you were kids. She doesn’t know how to handle grown up things because you’re always there to do them for her.” Kate blinked. “Is that a bad thing? I mean, I love her. I want to do things for her.. If she’s dependent on me, that’s pretty…” she let the thought linger in the air. Stephanie wasn’t exactly a defenseless woman. She played center professionally. When they were in grade school she could already bodycheck all the boys. Hell, she could probably play in the NBA and still be one of the best in the league. The thought of Stephanie Sweeney curled up in a pathetic little ball of uselessness because she couldn’t pop the top on a can of fruit was stimulating. It’s ok Steph, here let me do it for you. Kate had a rather good idea of what her therapist was going to tell her. Was she enabling Stephanie? Of course she was. She reveled in enabling Stephanie to be a co-dependent pile of nerves. No matter how strong, fast, and powerful she was to the public, to millions of fans, Kate got to see that special side of Steph that no one else did. So what her therapist said next shocked her, “Not at all.” “Huh?” Kate blinked. “I thought you were going to tell me I needed to stop doing things for her.” Her therapist smiled, “What you need is just a bit more patience. You know how a mother gets really frustrated but somehow always manages to keep it together? I think that’s the best way to deal with your wife Mrs. Sweeney.” “You want me to be my wife’s mom?” Kate arched her eyebrow. “Not exactly,” her therapist replied. “Hold on, let me share my screen with you.” She pressed a button on her keyboard and a static black and white spiral appeared on Kate’s phone. With another movement of her mouse, the spiral began to spin. “What’s this supposed to be hypnotism?” Kate asked. “Don’t be silly!” her therapist answered. “You can’t hypnotize someone like on television. And who ever heard of getting hypnotized over a Zoom call? No, this is just a relaxation technique. Do me a favor Mrs. Sweeney and just stare into the center of the swirl.” “Ok,” Kate shrugged. Why not, what’s the worst that could happen? She stared at her phone for a couple of seconds and had to admit that she felt a bit more calm. Her coffee sloshed around in her hands and had it not been covered, it surely would have been all over her sweater. She clumsily sat it back in the drink holder, her eyes never moving from her screen. “Are you looking at the spiral Kate?” “Uh-huh….” Kate trailed off. The spiral was round. It kept spinning. She felt good when the spiral kept spiraling just like a spiral that spiraled around in a spiral over and over again just like a spiral spiralling. Her trail of thought brook as she let out a soft google. “I’m looking at the spiral doctor….” “Does it make you feel good?” “It makes me feel spirally,” Kate snickered, “like I’m all gloopy.” “Well, let’s see if we can’t reform that gloop just a teensy bit,” the therapist said. “Now Kate, I want you to listen very closely to my instructions.” Kate could hear her therapist talking. She knew the words but couldn’t put them together. Yet, somehow, new ideas were beginning to take shape in her mind. She suddenly had quite a few ideas about how she should deal with little Stephy. By the time the spiral disappeared from the screen to be replaced by her therapist’s face, she already quite knew what she wanted to do that night. * * * The workout had been intense, which was just the way Steph liked it. Another member of the team was in town over the winter and they’d met up for some one on one and a tour through the gym. All of her muscles had been touched and her limbs felt like they were on fire. She was parked back on the couch at home with a towel wrapped around her neck. She felt a little bad about how the morning had gone. It wasn’t that she tried to be slovenly or even hated being clean. A hot shower or a good steam bath after a nice workout was heavenly after all. She just never seemed to get it. Plus, as bad as she’d felt about the whole thing, Kate had just made it right with a smile. Somehow not cleaning had led to a delicious home cooked breakfast. So obviously the wifey wasn’t that upset. “I’m home sweetie!” the door had opened and a voice called from the front door. Steph lifted herself up on the couch and stared across. A mound of boxes piled into Kate’s hands towered over her head. “You went shopping? How much did you buy?” she leapt from the couch and moved to Kate, scooping the boxes from her hands. “Be careful Stephy, those boxes are heavy!” Kate said. “I mean it’s fine?” Steph was a bit confused. She always did the heavy lifting. Kate wasn’t out of shape but she didn’t exactly hit the bench either. “What is all this junk anyway?” Kate giggled coyly, “Presents for my Superstar Princess of course!” She had a vacant look in her eyes as if she was having trouble focusing. Had she been drinking? No, definitely not. She hadn’t taken something had she? “Really?” Steph picked up one of the boxes and examined it. It was fairly large but made of plain cardboard. The store shipping labels were on it but there was no indication of what actually was inside. It was postmarked to a drop off location. Kate had ordered all of this same day shipping for pickup? Why? “What’s in this one?” “Do you want to know baby?” Kate grinned as she wrapped her hands around Steph’s neck. Steph couldn’t help but let out a low moan of pleasure as her wife’s tongue made its way along her earlobe, caressing the side of her face. Kate whispered as her tongue retracted, “I’ll have to show you in the bedroom.” “Mmm, I’d love to,” Steph pecked Kate on the cheek. “But I am exhausted, I did a hard burn today at the gym. Unless you want me to just lie there.” She had returned to the couch and Kate descended upon her knees, straddling both of them and pinning her against the sofa. “That will be perfect actually,” she said. “Then I’ll have you right where I want you. You’ll be helpless, my prisoner” “Kinky,” Steph beamed. “But you know I’m not into chains and things, I hope that’s not what we’re doing.” “Of course not,” Kate replied. “I’d never tie up my little Stephy…unless she was a really bad girl. You’ve been good today, right?” “I’m too tired to be naughty,” Steph replied. “Come on then,” Kate stood back up and lifted Steph’s hand, pulling on it. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. She selected two of the boxes, scooped them under one arm, and held Steph’s hand with the other. Steph allowed herself to be guided into the bedroom. “Ok, arms up!” “Uhh, maybe it would be easier if I undress myself…” Kate’s head didn’t quite come up to Stephanie’s shoulders. There was no way she’d…”huh?” Kate had grabbed the bottom of Steph’s shirt and yanked upward with such force that Steph ended up stooping slightly and Kate was able to pull the entire shirt off. It happened so quickly that Steph barely registered the action. Her shorts and underwear came next, then her socks. Kate took off everything. “Alright, can you lie down in the exact center of the bed sweetie?” Kate asked. “And spread your legs a little, ok?” Wow she wants access already. Is she trying to make up for this morning? “Oh and close your eyes?” “Why is that?” Steph asked. They usually didn’t do this kind of thing. It was exciting but also a bit frightening. When they made love, both of them chased what they wanted. Kate was asking to top her in a way they’d never tried before. “Sweetie, if you don’t listen, I’m going to blindfold you.” And what was with “sweetie?” Steph didn’t hate it but it wasn’t a common pet name that Kate dropped for her. Steph shrugged as she set her head against the pillow and snapped her eyes shut. Well just relax and see what she has in store for you. Steph could hear the sound of boxes being cut into and pulled open. Packing material was crinkled and set aside. Plastic torn. More crinkling. A lot more crinkling. How much crinkling was there? Steph wanted to sneak a peek but Kate had obviously worked hard on this scenario and she wanted to see it through. “I know this will be hard but can you lift up slightly for me sweetie?” Kate asked. Without opening her eyes, Steph followed her instruction and raised he butt. She could hear a crinkling sound and then an, “Ok you can sit back down,” from Kate. She was on top of some sort of pad now. It was soft and comfortable but crinkled ever so slightly as Steph sat on top of it. The smell of fresh powder hitting her nose helped her put two and two together. Kate wasn’t really…her eyes flew open and she watched in horror as Kate brought the front of a massive diaper up around her crotch. “Kate, what is this?” “It’s a diaper sweetie.” “I know that, why are you putting me in one?” “Because your mushy little squishbutt may not be clean and I don’t want to wake up with soiled sheets again,” Kate answered. “That’s not funny,” Steph scowled. “You’re being a bit of a bully Mrs. Sweeney.” “You can call me mommy sweetie,” Kate grinned as she taped the diaper into place. She leaned forward again and kissed Steph’s forehead as her hand patted the front of Steph’s diaper, the loud crinkle was now unmistakable. “Look, just get up so I can take this off,” Steph replied. “I’m sorry but I am really not into this roleplay scenario at all.” “Are you saying you don’t like your diaper?” Kate asked. “Not at all.” “We’ll have to change that then.” Kate replied with sinister glee as she produced a vibrating wand. She dropped the wand to Steph’s diaper, dragging the nub along the front of it. “Come on Kate, I really want you to sto…..oh!” Kate had turned the vibrator on and pushed it between Steph’s legs. The padding of the diaper pushed against her as the vibration rumbled through her body. Kate knew just the right spots to hold the wand to trigger Steph. The wave built quickly and within a matter of seconds, Steph felt like her body was ready to cry out in joy. “Stephy, sweetie, do you want to make cummies?” “Uh-huh….” Steph didn’t even care that the weird roleplay was disturbing. Kate had been so forceful about build up her arousal that her brain had already fogged up. She could only think about how good it would feel to melt in Kate’s hand. “Say it,” Kate said. She had lifted the wand upwards slightly. It still felt really good but was just missing the critical spot that would allow Steph to continue building to a rapturous climax. “So you want to make cummies.” “I…” it was actually kind of embarrassing. ‘Cummies’ come on that was a weird fetish thing to say but she wanted to let Kate know it was working. She had to say it, “I want to make cummies.” “Where do you want to make cummies?” “Uh…” where were they going with this? In the diaper? Oh that was embarrassing too. Was this a shame thing? Kate teased her briefly in a great spot before lifting the wand again, “Where do you want to make cummies Stephy?” “I want to make cummies in my diaper!” Steph shrieked. Wailing it out and getting it out there would let them both move on. Yes, she’d surrender to her wife. She’d get that rush. Then later she could lay down the law about this being weird. Kate sighed and shook her head, pulling the wand away and clicking the switch over. “That’s a shame, only good girls who like their diapers get to make cummies in them.” “But I…” Steph swallowed. Did she like it? Not really. It was definitely weird. But damn she needed to cum now. She needed it. “I do like my diapers, uh, mommy. I like them a lot!” “I don’t believe you.” Kate clicked the vibrator back on but instead ran it gently across her chest. A touch of scarlet came into her cheeks. “Mmmm, it does feel good. I wish I had a good little diaper loving girl who could feel it.” Damn it, how far is this going to go. “That’s me mommy, I’m your good little diaper loving girl. I love my diapers sooo much~~~” Steph felt like an idiot. If this ever left the bedroom… Kate clicked the wand off again and stared directly into Steph’s eyes, a wicked grin plastered on her face. “Prove it.” “How do I do that?” “That’s easy,” Kate said as she slid back slightly. Steph would easily be able to extract herself from the bed now and walk away. “A good little girl is going to wet her diapees instead of making a mess out of mommy’s bed.” “You can’t be serious.” The thought instantly cooled Steph off. She might not be the cleanest person around but she wasn’t going to just piss herself like a dumb baby. “I guess you need another taste,” Kate replied as she pinned Steph’s legs again, turned the vibrator on, and thrust it into the center of the diaper. She let it dig deeper and deeper until Steph was shrieking with pleasure. She had a thought to control her sounds so that Kate wouldn’t know how close she was but Kate knew. Kate knew enough to bring her right to the top of the mountain and then take the wand away. “Please…” Steph hated to beg but she needed it so bad. Maybe if she leaned into the roleplay, “Please mommy…please let me cum in my diaper.” Kate pressed her lips against Steph’s before lifting her head and tracing her tongue along Steph’s face, working her way to Steph’s ear. “You know what I want to see sweetie. This can all end when you show me how committed you are to the diapers I put you in.” “I…can’t do that Kate,” Steph had tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry…I can’t do that!” “Are you coming down again?” The vibrator was back on Steph’s diaper. “I can bring you to the top all night long if I have to. You will make cummies for your mommy my sweet little Stephy and you will do it after you show mommy how much you love your diapers. Just surrender, it’s so much easier if you let mommy take care of everything.” “What’s with you?” Steph gasped. “You’ve never been this aggressive before.” “Mommy had a little talk with her therapist today,” Kate replied. “She taught me how to help you with your tushy tantrum.” “Well, I’m not going to….ahhhh!” Steph let out another throaty moan as Kate returned the vibrator and continued to tease her. What the hell kind of therapist told someone to sexually assault their wife?! Still, Steph knew how easy it was to push Kate away and make sure she knew this should stop. Yet she couldn’t. She couldn’t. She wanted to cum. Oh god she wanted to cum. I’m not going to be able to hold out am I? She hated the idea of pissing herself. She had no idea how she’d be able to get off in a diaper soaked in her own urine. Maybe that would be for the best though. Have the most amazing climax she’d ever felt or get rid of the sex haze so she could get away from this. Both would work. All she had to do was… “Ok mommy, ok,” she gasped out between ragged breaths. Kate had just pulled the wand away again after letting her build up. “I’ll do it…I’ll prove I’m a good girl.” Kate beamed in triumph as she sat up and looked down at Steph’s diaper. “Well?” “It’s…I can’t just do it…you know?” Steph frowned. “Maybe if I sat on the toilet.” “You’re not going anywhere near a potty for a long time baby girl,” Kate replied. She squeezed Steph’s hands. “Your with mommy now, just relax. Everything is going to be ok if you just relax.” Just relax? Steph took in a deep breath and tried that. She just relaxed. Once it started, it was surprisingly easy. It was hot. She kind of knew it was hot but in a way it almost felt like she was boiling. Stewing in her own pee wasn’t so bad. The padding taped to her groin swelled up hungrily as it absorbed the liquid pouring out of her. She moaned slightly as she finished. As expected, whatever stimulation she had been feeling was gone. Sitting in a piss-soaked diaper was such a colossal turnoff that she sincerely doubted she’d be able to cum. That was fine, all she had to do was shove Kate off of her and make it clear they weren’t doing this ever again. Kate pushed her fingers against the sodden padding, inspecting the damage that Steph had down. A look of supreme satisfaction was carved into the soft flesh of her face. She poked a finger into the swollen diaper, allowing it to squish against Steph. “Thank you baby, you’ve made mommy very happy.” Steph had to look away, turning her head to the side. “I don’t know why you’d want me to piss in a diaper.” “Because mommy would rather have you make your messies in your diapees then all over the floor and furniture.” Kate replied. “And I think you’ll be happy with how tender mommy can be when you get your little didi changed.” “I really don’t like this Kate,” Steph struggled a bit. She could easily throw Kate to the ground if she wanted to but she would prefer Kate took the signal and just got off of her. “It’s disgusting. I am not into whatever weird kink this is.” “Well then,” the vibrator reappeared with a loud hum. “Mommy is just going to have to teach you how good a wet diaper feels.” Any illusion Steph had about not being able to come in a wet diaper vanished as Kate plunged the instrument into her puffed up padding. The ride back up the mountain was so fast and the climax so slow and endeering that Steph moaned until her voice was hoarse. “Mmm…nmmm….mommy…I’m cumming…I’m cumming in my diapee mommy!” “Good girl,” Kate kissed Steph on the head. “You’re such a good girl Stephy. You did such a good job. Mommy is very proud of you.” The clarity that came from having her craving satisfied was much needed. While it had been good, amazing even, Steph couldn’t help but think how much it disgusted her. Diapers? Watersports? She was absolutely not prepared to add this to their bedtime routine. “Kate, can you get off me? I really want to clean up.” The implication was clear. The game was over. “I just want you to promise me one thing,” Kate said as she slid off Steph. “Before you completely give up on doing things like this, promise me that you’ll have a session with my therapist.” “Sure,” Steph nodded. What was the harm in that? Fin A/N: Originally posted to my DeviantArt page on 06/15/24. Just a fun little quickie I wrote as a break from a larger project I am dealing with. I really had fun working on the banter in the first scene and kind of want to return to these characters some day.

“Do I have to take them down myself, little girl?” I hate it when my girlfriend calls me that! Yes, I’m six inches shorter. Yes, she’s eight years older. Yes, she’s the one in charge in our relationship, and yes, this whole domestic discipline thing had all been my idea three years ago, but I’m 30 and Not. A. Little! Girl! Dammit! But all I did instead was whine, “Not here. Please? I’m sorry. Can’t we just wait until we get home?” “Daphne,” Mary said, “this is not up for discussion. Besides, Brenna has seen plenty of bare bottoms spanked, including yours.” I glared at Brenna. We knew her through a local Fetlife group. Sometimes we did just plain vanilla stuff with her, like regular friends, like today, when she’d asked us for help planting trees in her yard. Mary has the green thumb. I hate yard work. “Bare? Can’t it just be over my shorts?” You’d think I’d have gotten used to being spanked, what with not a week going by when I wasn’t, but I never had, which I guess is the point. I looked at Brenna, who was smiling approvingly from the couch. Mary had pulled a kitchen chair into the living room and sat down. “Did your shorts make a rude comment to Brenna? Did your undies? So why would I spank those,” Mary asked me in her stern voice, the one she saves for when she’s talking to me like I’m a naughty little kid. “No,” I mumbled. I’d learned the hard way that there is no such thing as a rhetorical question when I’m in trouble. Mary reached out and grabbed me by the waistband of my innocent shorts and pulled me closer. None of this would have happened if Brenna had just been grateful we were over there helping in the first place. So I’m not Ma Nature - did it really matter if the hole wasn’t exactly fifteen inches deep? Of course, I do have a tendency to kill houseplants, even succulents. But anyway, she was harping on it, and I got irritated and said, “Then why don’t you just do it yourself, dammit?” I’m not sure if I’d have been in so much trouble if I hadn’t added the ‘dammit.’ At least I didn’t interfere while Mary popped the button on my shorts and whisked them, along with my panties, down to me ankles. “How did you get so dirty, anyway,” Daphne asked. “Not like you were putting that much effort into it.” I didn’t need to respond because Mary easily tossed me over her knee. My hands were on the floor, but my feet were not, leaving my butt hanging there. “Anything to say, Daphne,” Mary asked as she rubbed my butt. “I’m really sorry?” “Not as sorry as you will be.” That little rub is all I ever get for a warm up. Mary believes spankings are best delivered hard and fast, and within ten second she’d probably spanked me thirty times. This all started as a relationship with spanking involved, a little role play and bedroom fun. I even spanked her a couple times, though neither of us liked it. Eventually, I said I wanted it to be more than roleplay. I wanted it to be our lifestyle. I shortly thereafter found out just how many issues Mary had with my behavior and how much she’d been wanting to fix them for a while by then. But I wasn’t thinking about the time she had needed to spank me three times in one day. I was thinking about the spanking she was giving me right then. Mary is thorough in everything she does, and a creature of habit. She always starts out spanking me seemingly at random, no order to which side she wails on or how many. She likes to make sure I can’t anticipate anything. I lay there doing my best to hold still and be quiet, trying to keep my eyes closed and pretend Brenna wasn’t there, probably smiling. Only when my butt is a dark pink from top to sit spots does Mary really get going. As she says, this is when the real spanking starts. She stopped assaulting my butt and said, “Hand me the paddle, Daphne.” I freakin’ hate the thing. It’s small, heavy, and has four holes in it. She got it specifically to keep in her purse. She could just use her hairbrush when she disciplines me away from home (dressing rooms are the worst - everyone can hear!), but no, she says knowing she has a just-for-spanking implement with her at all times does a better job reminding me to behave. I pick it up with my left hand and reach behind me to give it to her. She takes it, then takes my arm and pins it behind my back. I’m a wiggler when she uses that thing. She’s like a freakin’ ninja with it. Equal parts thuddy and stingy, she paddles as fast as she hand spanks, but in a tight pattern. Up and down, each spank overlapping with the one before it, in a tight row, then shifting over and working a line from top to sit spot again. She never makes it from one side to the other but that I go from grunts to sobs to tears. Every. Damn. Time. The small paddle bounces off my bottom so fast I don’t even feel the individual spanks anymore. It’s all one swollen throb. She’s gentle, by comparison, with my thighs, but before she’s done with those ten spanks to the tender backs of my legs, I frantically promise, “I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” Mary finished the last spank, and I lay over limp over her soft lap, big tears falling, and my nose running. It takes me a few seconds to realize Mary is rubbing my back, like she always does after a hard spanking, shushing me gently. When I’m ready, I start to get up, and Mary helps me so that I’m sitting on her lap, my crimson bottom aching when I do, and crying into her shirt as she calms me. “It’s okay, little girl,” she coos to me, “All is forgiven.” She kisses my temple. “Let it all out. That’s my brave girl.” When I get myself under control, though still struggling with the occasional sob and needing badly to blow my nose, she helps me off her lap. “What do you say to Brenna,” Mary asked. I don’t know when I kicked off my shorts and panties, nor do I care. I shuffled over to Brenna. “I’m sorry for being rude,” I said. “I forgive you,” she says, opening her arms. Brenna is big woman, and I all but collapse into her softness. I do like her, even though she has a way of bringing out the brat in me, but that brat never seems to be that far away. I stand between her big thighs, and she rubs my butt with one hand while she hugs me with the other. I’m grateful she does because I’m not allowed to rub. “Mary, why don’t you go take her to wash her face, and I’ll get lunch ready,” Brenna suggests. “Can I have my shorts back,” I ask meekly. “After lunch,” Mary says, holding out her hand. I take it. I like Mary’s hands. I also know she’s gonna lift me up and seat me on the cold vanity, and that it’s gonna feel good for about five seconds then feel clammy and hard. After lunch, I’m for sure gonna dig those holes right, and without a world of complaint.

For Anna, all her dreams were finally coming true: she had just started medical school, her dream university; she had the opportunity to move out of her parents' house, with them buying her an apartment all for herself; and finally, she could enjoy the freedom she had longed for during the COVID isolation period. The apartment was just outside Milan, where her new university was located. It had an open-plan kitchen and dining area, a living room, a bathroom with a bathtub, and a beautiful bedroom with a walk-in closet. The cost of the apartment was certainly not cheap, but Anna's social situation allowed her to enjoy some luxuries. That morning, after a long walk with her suitcases and getting lost a couple of times, she finally managed to reach the front door, turn the doorknob, and collapse onto the couch to rest after the long journey. She laughed as she looked at herself in the mirror: she had left home dressed nicely, wearing a white blouse and a black skirt that reached mid-thigh, with a pair of white stockings, her hair neatly straightened and long almost to her waist; now, however, she was completely disheveled, her blouse was stained with who knows what, and the stockings had a small tear on the thigh. "I haven't even had time to arrive and I already have to take a shower and do laundry," she said sarcastically. After a short nap, she mustered up the courage to unpack her suitcase. As soon as she entered the bedroom, a strange object caught her eye: a rocking horse. It was adorned with pastel colors and feminine details. Its mane and tail flowed elegantly, made of silk or soft cotton threads, while its large, bright eyes were framed by long, slender lashes. The saddle was padded and decorated with small hearts or stars. Anna was surprised to see it, not so much because of the decorations, which were totally disconnected from the modern look of the room, but because it was sized for her. After an initial astonishment, she decided to simply dismiss it as a toy left by the previous owner and move it out of her room until they came to retrieve it. She finished unpacking her suitcase, and as she approached, she decided to take the reins to move it to the living room. "Come on, move, you stupid thing," she grumbled, annoyed. No matter how hard she pulled, the rocking horse swayed toward her but didn't move an inch. In the end, she gave up and went to order dinner. After a simple margherita pizza eaten in pajamas while watching a series on Netflix on the new television, she decided to go to bed, almost bumping into that huge toy placed in front of her bed. It wasn't an easy night; she kept thinking about that horse: whose is it? Why is it so big? Eventually, at 2:00 a.m., she entered the world of dreams. That night, Anna had the strangest dream of her life, at least so far, and oddly enough, it centered around that rocking horse. In the dream, Anna rode it, imagining epic battles where she was the warrior princess: after a long journey, she finally reached her castle and her bedroom. She lay down, and a strange sensation came to her mouth; she reached out her right hand and pulled out, with considerable surprise, a pink pacifier. Driiiiin, the alarm had already sounded twice when Anna, still stunned from the dream, got up to turn it off: today was her first day of classes at university. As in all universities, the first classes were orientation: the books to buy, the subjects to study, the exam procedures, and the internship activities to organize. The day passed quite quickly for Anna, although she couldn't shake off the dream, the pacifier, and especially the rocking horse. As if that wasn't enough, while searching for books on Amazon, she found herself in the section dedicated to pacifiers, amazed that some of them were so cute. The strangest thing was that, if she had bought it, the shipment would have arrived by the afternoon. "Fantastic," she thought, during lunch break, "I can order my books and have them arrive immediately if I also include the pacifier." She decided to get a white and pink one, with a bunny printed on the front plastic, blushing slightly at the idea of that order, but the opportunity helped her overcome the embarrassment. And so it was, when she returned home, a nice package had materialized in front of her door. She was completely fascinated by the books she had ordered: Anatomy, Histology, Biology, and... the pink pacifier, hiding at the bottom of everything. She laughed when she saw it and, laughing, decided to unwrap it and throw it on the couch with the idea of throwing it away after updating her new library. Part 2: new gadget She decided to arrange the notes on the couch: she took off the clothes she had worn during the day, deciding to stay in just a t-shirt and no pants; she grabbed the tablet and sat right next to the pacifier. She couldn't concentrate... her eyes kept looking at it, it was stronger than her. In the end, she sighed and picked it up, twirling it around her finger. "What do you have that's so interesting that I can't stop looking at you?" she said, putting it in her mouth. It was strange at first, but then slowly her mouth got used to it, starting to suck on it automatically. From that moment on, Anna was able to fully concentrate, and after 2 hours, she had finished her notes. She got up to go to the bathroom, and as soon as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was shocked to realize that she had completely forgotten about her new gadget. She opened her mouth and the pacifier fell out, but it didn't touch the floor, simply hanging from her shirt as it was attached with a string to the fabric. She didn't remember putting on that string, let alone attaching it to her shirt, yet there it was dangling at chest level. She was about to take it off, but the urge to go to the bathroom won, so she didn't pay any more attention to it. In the end, it remained there, dangling, while she called her friend Melissa, while she cooked dinner, and finally returned almost automatically as she went to bed still fantasizing about the horse staring at her. That night she dreamed too: she was a young Indian girl, and like all of them, she rode her white horse towards a green hill. At the top, a strange sensation overwhelmed her: she needed to pee and it was urgent. She got off her horse and ran to a tree, without thinking she pulled down her pants and an immediate feeling of relief overwhelmed her as she emptied her bladder. That morning she woke up alone still with that feeling, sighed around her pacifier as she stretched. Her bed was soft, warm, and wet. "WET!" she exclaimed, mispronouncing the word because of the pacifier, she moved the blankets and found a large stain spreading from her pants: she had wet the bed. She blushed, cried, spat out the pacifier, and almost screamed in astonishment. When she calmed down, she got up, put the sheets in the washing machine, and changed, turning tomato red when she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the wet stain that spread from her buttocks down all her pants. She was late so she decided to brush it off as simple stress or drinking too much water. It wasn't like that... 3 days later, 3 days of the same dream, 3 days of washing machines. On the fourth day, Anna had her first chance to experience a university Wednesday. She returned at 2 in the morning, drunk after a long night at the club with her new friends. She took off her clothes and threw them on the floor, they smelled of smoke and alcohol, she looked for her pacifier and popped it into her mouth with a loud click. She grabbed her pajamas but stopped stumbling, drawn to the rocking horse and the package placed at the base. Was it a package of panties? No, they seemed thicker and the decorations more childish. They were pull-ups designed for bedwetters or those learning to use the potty. She laughed, euphoric from the alcohol, thinking about the idea of putting them on... wait, she wet the bed... maybe she should wear them. She pulled one out, amazed by the cute decorations that strangely resembled her pacifier. She laughed again as she pulled down her panties and put on a pair. There was something about this action that made her feel naughty, as if she shouldn't do it, but in reality, she felt it could be a solution to her problem. She was speechless when she realized they fit her perfectly and were really comfortable and discreet. Stumbling, she headed to bed: pacifier in her mouth, new underwear forgetting to put on her pants. Part 3: Wake up The morning after was traumatic: her head throbbed, and nausea churned her stomach. She hadn't dreamt that night; she had simply fallen asleep staring at the rocking horse. She must have tossed and turned in bed several times, as she was no longer covered by the sheets. She lay on her back, pacifier in her mouth, legs open, displaying her soaked pull-up to the world. Eventually, after 20 minutes, she decided to get up and try eating something. She paid no attention to her new attire or the weight of the night's pee dragging it down. It was Thursday, which meant she had online classes in the afternoon. She laboriously wobbled to the kitchen and grabbed a packet of crackers. She attempted to eat one, but as soon as she brought it to her mouth, it encountered the pacifier and shattered on the t-shirt she was using as pajamas. Blushing, she spat it out; the pacifier wouldn't fall out, thanks to the ribbon, and finished the packet. After breakfast, she went to the bathroom to shower. It was only then that she realized she wasn't wearing her usual underwear; unlike last night, they had turned a faint yellow, increased in size, and felt damp to the touch. Memory flooded back, and she remembered what had happened the previous evening. She felt conflicting emotions: on one hand, relieved not to have dirtied the sheets yet again, on the other embarrassed for not realizing sooner and sleeping without pants. Another sharp headache distracted her; she threw the used diaper in the trash and stepped into the shower. After a long shower, she dried off and, still naked, went to her room to get dressed. She picked a pink t-shirt, put it on, and without thinking, attached the pacifier to it. Then she went towards the dresser to get her underwear but paused at the sight of the overturned pull-up package under the rocking horse. She picked one up: sober now, she could finally see the decorations clearly. They were light pink with bunny designs around the pubic and buttocks area. Delicate white hues adorned the sides and waist. The bunnies were painted in vibrant colors with realistic details, almost popping out of the fabric. Some bunnies ran happily while others engaged in cute activities like jumping or smelling flowers. The texture was soft to the touch. "Well, I can't deny they're cute," exclaimed Anna, smiling as she admired the bunnies adorning the pull-up and didn't notice the odd resemblance to her pacifier. It was too tempting; she spread one open and slid her legs into it effortlessly. They were very comfortable to wear, discreet, and, above all, gave her a childish touch that deep down Anna adored. In the end, she decided to wear them to prevent any post-drinking naps.

Kailee new sister Part 3-final chapter As lisa rocked kailee in her rocking chair, kissed her forehead and said “i cant wait to get you home baby girl” Kailee smiles through her bottle, Lisa takes a soft diaper cloth and lifts baby Kailee to her shoulder and rubs her back, as Kailee spits up some of the milk. Lisa then puts Kailee in the playpen with some toys and says, you stay here baby girl, mommy needs to start getting your things together. Kailee starts to cry, holding her arms up, wanting to be picked up and held, mommy says “no no honey”you need to stay in there for a while mommy wont be long's” Kailee starts to play with the toys as Lisa goes through Kaillee closet and finds her original big girl clothes, shoe, her duffle bag, her wallet and other items. Lisa madae sure she also grabbed some baby clothes to bring home, as she didnt have clothes there and reminded herself to order some as soon as they got settled. Lisa stood over the play pen and “said ready to go home honey”? As Kailee lifts up her arms, as lisa picks her up and carries her out of her room. They say goodbye to other mommies/nurses and walks to the front door as Wendy sees them, and says “we gonna miss you baby girl Kailee, but you have the best mommy ever!” kailee smiles and lays her head on lisa's shoulder. They leave the building as Lisa puts Kailee in the baby car seat and snaps her in. Puts her duffle bag in the back and gets into the car to drive home. They arrive at lisa's spacious 3 story home. Lisa oulls into the driveway parks the car and unbuckles Kailee from her baby car seat lifts her up and carries her into the house. Says “here we are baby girl this is your new forever home”. Shows her the living room, the kitchen, complete with the baby high chair all set up and then goes up the stairs to showKailee Lisa's bedroom, There is a large bed, nite stand and large crib in the room. Lisa says “this where you will sleep baby girl” when you wnt to be near mommy, but not all the time, Lisa goes into th next room and shows Railee her baby nursery. Her eyes widened as she saw large room with her pink crib, pink changing table filled with diapers, and wipes. Toys and suffed animals on the shelf,decorated in baby disney theme, Dresser which was filled with rompers and onesies, Her closet did not have much dresses, but that would be comimg soon. She had sandal shoes as well as snap on shoes with buckles. Kailee starts to rub her eyes. Puts her thrub in her mouth and lays her head on Lisa's shoulder.. Lisa pats pats Kailee diapered bottom, and says “nap time baby girl”, sits in the rocking chair, lifts up her shirt and lets Kailee nurse and suck on her breast, she fusses a bit as Lisa kisses her forhead rocks her, as she falls asleep. Lisa puts her in the crib coveres her with the blanket, puts a paci in her nouth and turns on the baby monitor. Lisa takes this time to call Kailee former receptinonst-Sarah toand ask her some quesstiions and have her come over for some coffee and chat about things. Lisa calls Sarah and says “hello Sarah, you font know me but I am Kailee's mommy, I was her mommy when she was at the Institute, and she listed you as a referenc,e, Sarah said ohh yes, Kailee mentioned to me she was going to a soecaial place”. Sure I would love to come over and chat, we can compare notes”. Tomorrow would be great Sarah said, See you then Lisa. Sarah arrived on time to Lisa's house dressed in a black skirt, white blouse and blue jacket. Sarah was about 5'7 with blonde hair blue eyes, with heels she says forgive me for dressing so formal, I just came from the pffice. Lisa smiles and says ohh its ok I understand, have a seat on the sofa, relax, can I get you a drink or something”? Sarah says water or ice tea if you have it is fine thank you. Lissa comes out with two glasses of ice tea and sits it down in front of Sarah and sits next to her on the soda, As Sarah hands Lisa a packaage,”here I brought ths for Kailee, its just a lil somethng”, Lisa says thank you, Sarah, you can give it to her when she wakes up from her naop, as she ehckecks her watch whitch should be soon. Now tell me what your relationship was like with you and Kailee? Sarah takes a sip of her ice tea, well, as you know, Kailee former life was as a executive at our company, and due to the stress, pressure, and responsibilites she had to oversee, she just “snapped” for lack of a better word, and wanted to give up her former life. I was the only one who knew she wanted to be a baby full time. At one time when we were in the office together, she asked me if I would secretly be her mommy. I was at first taken back that she would ask me, but we are very close friends, and I was honnored. I would come over affter work, undress her, bathe her, and put her in diapers for the evening and be at here at her place on the weekends. At times she nursed from me, but mostly drank from b ootles and I fed her baby food in her kitchen. But she wanted more than I could give and I had to “stop it” even though I really wanted to take care of her full time. Lisa hears Kailee crying from the baby monitor and says I will be right back. Lisa goes into the nursery Hello Baby girl, did you have a good nap?” There is someone special here to visit with you honey! As she lifts Kailee out of her crib, takes her to he changing rable and removes her soaked dress and diaper. Fussing and crying as usual, Kailee watches as Lisa gets out the wapes, and soft pink daiper as she plces it under her and powders her all over, brings the diaper forward and tapes the sides snugly. She finds a nice frilly dress with pink diaper cover for Kailee, and helps but her in it. Brushes her hair and puts it in pigtails, gives her the paci, lifts Kailee up carries her downstairs to the living room. Kailee sees Sarah, smiles, and kicks squeels ds as she sees Sarah. Lisa puts Kailee down on the carpet and Kailee crawls to Sarah, puts her arms up “uppies momny” .Sarah smiles and picks up Kailee and cuddles her, places her on her lap as she shows her the present, look what mommy got for you sweetie, as she opens the bag, gives her the stuffed dog and baby doll. Kailee squeals with excitement and cuddles the stuffed dog and baby doll.Sarah says you are such a good baby sweetie.. I have missed you very much honey. Lisa get up, goes to the kitchen and gets a bottle, Kailee gets very excited as she sees her bottle, Lisa hands it to Sarah, care to feed her? Sarah smiles.. I be delighted as she lays Kailee n har arms and starts to feed her the bottle. Kailee looks at Sarah lovingly as she enjoys being fed by her former mommy. Sarah looks at Kailee lovingly as she gently rocks her in her arms feeding her the bottle. Lisa sees this in Sarah's and Kailee eyes and asks Sarah, would you like to be Kailee mommy again part time? She says I like that, as my schedule at work is pretty, I can maybe do 2x-3x a week? Lisa says that will be perect. As Sarah lifts Kailee up and gently pats pats her back, Sarah tells Lisa I used to do this to her all the time after she had her bottle. Lisa jots down a schedule and gives it to Srrah, will this work for you? As Saah looks at the schedule and says its perfect! Thank you. Sarah but Kailee down on the carpet, and got up to say goodbye to Lisa,. Sniling she thanked Lisa, gsvr Kailee a kiss on her forhead and told lisa she would see her soon. As she opened the front door and left. After a few years of coming and going back and forth, Sarah moved in with Lisa,She took care of Kailee when Lisa had to work at the but now in a administrative position, which meant more money for Lisa. The relationship between Lisa and Sarah became more serious as they became lovers. Sarah started to become more submissive with Lisa, and even wanted to wear diapers, suck on a paci, and want to nurse from her breasts. this all made Lisa very happy to which she was more that willing to assist at times. Sarah still took care of Kailee during the day but at at nite and weekends Sarah became a baby, Lisa would breast feed her and diaper her, The day Lisa brought Sarah out as a baby, Kailee wasn't sure of this new baby. Lisa says this is your new baby sister honey, This is baby Sarah, Kailee smiles hugs Sarah, Babyy sissy? From that moment on Kailee started to call Sarah her sissy.

Hi Everyone. Long time enjoyer of the forum, first time poster. I've enjoyed reading stories about ABDL for many years now, both on her and across the rest of the vast internet. I'm not new to writing, however this is my first ABDL story that I've written, or at least the first one that I felt good enough about to post. I posted this story first on the abdlstories subreddit, and decided "Hey, why not post it here too." I've completed only 2 chapters so far, but I'll continue working on this story. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I welcome any sort of criticism. Thank you. Chapter 1: A Day of Relaxation Gone Awry June 2nd, 2023. 2:13pm “Wow, what a shitshow.” I say with a sigh as I unlock the door, stepping into the house. Another tedious day at work. I swear, people always think data entry is an easy position; well I’d like to see them try dealing with the shit I have to deal with. If it’s not my supervisor breathing down my neck, it’s one of my colleagues needing some help with a monotonous task. “Well, at least I got off early today.” I couldn’t be happier with the early release. Mostly because I was about 2 seconds from murdering that idiot Beth. Seriously, how hard is it to save a spreadsheet before you close it out! Well, whatever. Not my problem anymore; at least for the weekend. I hang my coat up on the rack, kick my heels off, and sluggishly make my way over to the couch. I sit down, feeling the weight of the day release from my shoulders. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, I turn on the T.V and begin to scroll through Netflix, hoping to find something to distract me from my hellish day. From across the house, I can hear the shower running, and a smile forms on my face. No matter what bullshit I have to deal with, I know it will be alright. I know I can come home to my favorite person: Emma. I hear the sound of water cease, and a few moments later, I see what I can only describe as the definition of beauty exit the bathroom. Her long, dark brown hair hanging over her shoulder, still damp from the shower. Her skin covered by a towel around her waist, leaving me just able to see glimpses of her fair, glistening skin. I watch as she begins to head to the bedroom, before doing a double take towards me. I watch as her face brightens up. “Roxie! I didn’t know you’d be home so early! How was work?” She walks over to me and pecks me on the cheek, careful not to let her towel fall. “If I have to fix one of Beth’s screw ups one more time, I’m gonna demand a raise for the extra work.” I say, half sarcastically, but with a hint of seriousness within. “She somehow manages to make extra work for me to do on a daily basis.” I shouldn’t be too hard on Beth. I mean sure, she fucks up a lot, but it’s not exactly her fault. Beth joined the company a couple years back as a receptionist, and she really flourished. I remember when I went in for my interview, and she made me feel welcome, calming my nerves. I’d even go as far to say that she was my first friend over there .Unfortunately, the company has been short staffed these past few months, and moved her over to the data entry department. It’s not like she’s the worst member on the team either. Data entry just isn’t her specialty. Most of the time, I don’t even mind helping her out, but with the rest of today…well I guess it just got on my nerves. “I feel bad for her.” Emma remarks. “It can’t be easy being moved around the company like that.” “Yeah, I know. I’ll text her later and tell her not to worry.” I just hope I don’t forget. My brain feels overworked today. I look up at the clock and take note of the time: 2:30. “Hey babe, don’t you have that meeting in an hour?” A look of surprise shoots across Emma’s face, and I can see a bit of panic in her eyes. “Dammit, I thought I had more time! Oh shit, where did I put my outfit…wait yeah I laid it out on the bed! Sorry babe, we’ll talk more later!” “Do you want some help getting ready?” I ask, wanting to remove some of her worry. “No, I should be fine. You just relax for now. You’ve had a long enough day already.” With a second peck on the cheek, I watch as she hurries her way to the bedroom door, hips swaying as I watch her disappear behind the doorframe. I feel sorry for her at times. Being an account manager for her company's high level executives comes with many perks: free travel, time off and a lucrative salary being some awesome bonuses. However, it also means having to make herself available for dinner meetings, out of state conferences, and other hindrances. I decide to resume my task, and after a couple more minutes of scrolling, I settle on a classic; She-Ra. God, I can’t count how many times I’ve rewatched this series, but here I am, going down the rabbit hole once again. I watch as the red N flashes across the screen, and the title intro plays. After a few minutes, I begin to feel a bit parched, and decide a cool beverage is in order. I get up and make my way to the kitchen. As I walk, I hear Emma getting louder in the bedroom. If I had to guess, she misplaced something. “Where the hell did I put those earrings?!? Come on, I just had…oh, they’re on the desk.” I chuckle to myself. This is pretty normal for Emma, rushing to get ready. I know to give her some space when she gets heated like that, so I continue to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, I grab 2 cans of Diet Coke. “It’s not like I wanna get back up later.” I reason to myself. Satisfied with my choice of soft drink, I make my way back to the living room. “Damn, I missed Adora finding the sword!” Having seen the show more times than I care to admit, I elect to not rewind, and just continue watching. I watch through to the credits of the first episode before I hear the bedroom door open. Emma walks out, her outfit finally complete. “How do I look? Ready for business?” She asks, fishing for a compliment. “You look gorgeous as always.” I say, sincere in my words. To me, she is, and will always be the most beautiful woman in the world. Today though, her look is that of an absolute professional. Her white, button down shirt buttoned up, with her black blazer overtop, just screams “I know what I’m talking about” while her ironed dress pants complete the ensemble. She looks at me and her lips, crimson lipstick freshly applied, turn into a smile, and a slight blush appears on her face, clearly enjoying what she heard. “Hearing that makes the effort worth it.” I watch as she walks over to the door, grabbing her purse off the coffee table along the way. As she pulls out her keyring from the bag, she turns to me. “I’m not sure how long this meeting will run, but I’m willing to guess it will be a few hours. You know Andrew; he never shuts up.” She didn’t have to remind me. Andrew is her partner at the company, and he truly doesn’t know how to stop talking. When I first met him at the company Christmas party, he went on and on for over an hour about his trip to the Florida Keys. I was only able to escape due to Emma’s timely rescue. He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but man can he chat your ear off. “Yeah, don’t let him go off the rails again, or you may not come back till tomorrow.” Emma chuckles at my remark, before opening the door. “Okay, well I’ll see you afterwards, no matter the time.” She jokes back. “Love you Roxie, and don’t forget to message Beth!” “Oh shit, thanks!” I can’t believe I already forgot. “I love you too Amore.” I didn’t learn many words from my heritage, but I learned that one. I should really learn more Italian though. With one last smile, I watch as Emma walks through the door, locking it behind her. A couple moments later, I hear the sound of her BMW starting up, before quieting down as she pulls out of the driveway. I sigh, missing her already. With nothing else to do, I return my attention to the T.V, noticing half of the episode having played whilst my attention was pulled. “Aw man, I’m missing all the good parts.” I say before pausing the episode. I sit back, contemplating what else I can do to pass the time. Just then, a realization strikes me; I have the place to myself for a few hours, and no plans for the rest of the day. I smirk as I figure out my new plan. I have a chance to engage in my own little secret. I get up from the couch and, with a brisk pace, I make my way over to the spare bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I lock it out of habit. I know I have the place to myself, but I still can’t get over my fear of being discovered in my secret activity. I walk over to the guest bed, and bend down, getting on my knees. I reach my hand underneath the frame, feeling around until I find what I'm looking for. With a bit of effort, I pull a wooden chest out from underneath the bed. A simple design, one almost wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, at least until they look at the heavy duty lock on the front. I walk over to the walk-in closet, and head to the back, finding the second part of my lengthy process of hiding my secret. I open up a shoe box filled with a pair of old sneakers. I reach my way into the right shoe, and pull out a small key. I then return the shoe box to its place, and return to the chest. Placing the key into the slot, I twist it with shaking hands, my excitement building with each passing moment. With a click, the lock unlatches, and I place it off to the side, making sure to leave the key inside so I don’t forget where I put it. I slowly open the lid, and reveal my secret treasures. Inside the hidden chest, there are many different items that share the same theme. In secret, I am an ABDL. I’ve had a love and fascination for the kink for as long as I can remember. Once I moved in with Emma, I locked my stuff away in secret, afraid that she would think I’m some kind of degenerate…and I wouldn’t be able to stand that. Pushing that dark thought aside, I look over my collection of goodies, and after a moment, I pull out my first item. I’ve always been a bit of a goth, so when I found out about Rearz Rebel design, it was a perfect match for my aesthetic. I pull out the thick padding, and trace my fingers over the small skulls placed throughout. I quickly pull myself out of my mini trance, and grab the rest of my changing supplies before throwing them on the mattress. I lay myself down next to the supplies, before unbuttoning my black jeans, slipping them off of my legs and letting them fall to the floor. I take a look at my panties, looking over the similar design, black with little white skulls throughout. “No more panties today!” I say, making myself chuckle at my own bravado, before sliding those off as well. I then unfold my diaper, and place it underneath my rear, making sure to get the positioning just right. Once situated, I take a quick look at my body. While the hormones had done a bit of shrinkage, I still had a rather decent, if not average, sized penis. I know some Trans women have mixed or negative feelings about their traditionally male organ, I never quite felt that type of dysphoria. If anything, the rest of my figure was the issue, not the privates I have. Continuing with my mission, I begin to sprinkle a decent helping of baby powder over my nether regions. After all, what baby doesn’t smell like baby powder. Once satisfied, I raise the front of the diaper up, and take my time taping up the sides, wanting to make the fit as perfect as it could be. Finally secure, I let out a sigh of relief, before placing my hand on the front of the plastic, enjoying the thickness between my legs. Feeling a pressure on the front began to make my arousal grow, and I take a moment to enjoy it. “I should probably keep getting ready, otherwise I’ll be here all day.” I hop off the bed and return to the chest, pulling out a black onesie with a cartoon skull on the front. You could definitely say I have a theme for this outfit. I temporarily place it on the bed so I can strip out of the rest of my clothing. I unbutton my black button up shirt, letting it fall away, exposing my bra. I debate for a moment if I should keep it on, before reaching behind my back and unclipping the garment. It just wouldn't feel right to wear right now, with the rest of my infantile outfit. I pick up the onesie, and unbutton the snaps on the crotch before slipping it over my head. I feel the fabric expand and constrict to my form as it gets into place. I reach between my legs, and re snap the crotch of the garb. I reach into the chest once again, and pull out a black pacifier, before quickly popping it into my mouth. With a suckle, I walk over to the mirror to inspect the look. “Just like a baby.” I think to myself, and smile behind the dummy. I admire how the onesie confirms to my frame, accentuating the small curves I had developed over the years. I turn around, and look at the thickness surrounding my butt. Anyone looking would be able to tell what was underneath, especially with the design peaking out slightly around the legs. I finally look how I desire. Taking one last glimpse back into the mirror, I turn back to the chest for the final time, pulling out a black bag, filled with various other goodies. Taking it with me, I unlock the door, and head back to the living room. I situate myself back into my spot, feeling the cushion underneath me. I smile to myself, and I truly begin to feel the stress of the day melt away. After a moment of silent relaxation, I reach into the bag and pull out an oversized baby bottle. Deciding to stick to my already opened beverage, I carefully pour the can of soda into the bottle, before opening the second can and doing the same. I screw the lid back on, and begin to place the nipple towards my mouth, forgetting about the paci sitting between my lips. Giggling at my forgetfulness, I quickly attach the pacifier to the clip on my onesie, leaving it hanging within reach. I then return the bottle to my mouth, taking a sip of the refreshing, caffeinated drink. I place the bottle down next to me, before reaching over to the remote, resuming the episode I was watching. I sat there for a couple hours, watching the adventures unfold on the screen. Having finished my bottle, I had gotten up and filled it back up with water, polishing that off as well. As the 6th..or is it the 7th episode began to play, I returned the paci to my awaiting lips, enjoying my own personal nirvana. Midway through the episode, I begin to feel the results of all my consumption. I take a moment to decide if now is the moment I want to release, before deciding to return my attention to the show. Another series of credits rolls across the screen, and I begin bouncing in my seat, the desperation reaching its peak. I realize that I soon won’t have a choice if I want to go or not. Pulling my legs onto the couch, I get into position, sitting on my knees. With a final sigh, I begin to feel my bladder release, slowly at first, but quickly turning into a flood. I feel the warmth spreading around the front of the padding, which eagerly ate up the onslaught of pee. Many seconds pass by, and after what seemed to be a minute, I feel the flow turn into a trickle, before finally stopping. I begin to unsnap the crotch of the onesie, wanting to see myself how soaked I had become, and I was not disappointed. The entire front of the Rebelz had turned a pale yellow color, and reaching my hand down, I could feel the satisfying squish that only a soaked diaper could give. As I was inspecting my results, I felt my arousal from earlier return in earnest, the front of my padding beginning to tent, my erection making itself known. This time, I decide to do something about it. Reaching back into the bag, I pull out my favorite toy, a wireless wand vibrator. Pressing the button, I feel the device spring to life. I sit back down, feeling the warmth had made its way somewhat to the back of the diaper, before bringing the wand to the crotch of the padding. “Oh, how I missed this.” I say as I revel in the sensations. I turn up the speed a level before beginning to move it around, my privates becoming fully erect in the process. I close my eyes, and begin fantasizing about my usual dream. Instead of my hands guiding the wand, it’s Emma, using the device to provide this pleasure to me. I imagine all the things I wish I could experience with her. My mind plays the scene, me squirming around, feeling the wand to its job, while Emma calls me her good girl, her soggy baby, her precious little. All too soon, I feel myself beginning to reach my climax. With the last few strokes of the vibrator, I feel myself begin to orgasm, spurting my load inside my diaper, which happily accepted the additional liquid. I turn the device off, and breath heavily, basking in the afterglow of my alone time. Just as I finish recovering, I hear a sound to my left, and I open my eyes. My heart drops. Having been distracted by my masturbating, I must have failed to notice the sound of the lock on the door, or the opening of it for that matter. There stood Emma, confirming my worst fears. I begin to panic, before noticing something. Where in my worst nightmares, I had always imagined her with a look of disgust, in reality, here she stood, with a massive grin on her face. “Well, out of all the things I expected to walk in to, this wasn’t at the top of the list.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (CW: Shame, Homophobia, Transphobia, Familial Abuse, Mentions of Violence) Chapter 2: Caught in The Act June 2nd, 2023. 5:48pm Dread. All I feel is an overwhelming feeling of dread. For years, my biggest fear has been this exact moment. (I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let this happen! I should have never unlocked that chest!) My internal monologue goes into overdrive, reminding me how I should’ve been more careful, should’ve stayed locked in the guest bedroom, should’ve never engaged in my perverse kink to begin with. I feel my anxiety building with each passing moment. “So…wanna tell me what’s going on here?” Emma asks. I’m unable to read her expression, whether that’s due to my rush of emotions, or her lack of displaying one, I’m unable to tell. (Just talk to her! What’s the worst that she could say? That you’re disgusting, a pervert, a mental case? Yeah…that’s definitely what she’s going to say!) I open my mouth, trying to get any semblance of a word out, just…something. But nothing comes out. Instead, I feel my body enter autopilot, my legs moving faster than I can think, rushing me over to the guest bedroom. I quickly lock the door before collapsing on the floor, holding my head in my lap as the tears begin to form. What if she doesn’t think I’m sexy anymore? What if she wants to leave me? Why couldn’t I just be normal?!? I continue to cry, wishing more than anything that this didn’t happen. But it did. The cat’s out of the bag now, and no amount of wishing would make it otherwise. So I cry; that’s all I can do, is just cry. Suddenly, I hear a gentle knocking on the door, and I hear a voice filled with kindness and concern on the other side. “Roxie, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I tried calling you to let you know I was coming back, but you didn’t answer.” I mentally kick myself, looking over to my jeans and seeing my phone sticking out of the pocket. Me and my forgetfulness. “Listen, I’m not mad, okay? I just want to talk to you. I don’t want to rush you, but would you please open the door?” I sit there for a moment longer, before slowly making my way to the door. I pause for a moment before unlocking the door, and cracking it open, just able to poke my head through. “I’m so, so sorry Emma.” I say with fresh tears dripping down my cheeks. “I never wanted you to see me…like this. I promise you I’ll never do this again, just please don't…” I’m interrupted by Emma pushing the door open. (This is it, she’s going to yell at me.) I think, before quickly being enveloped in a hug. “That’s enough, Roxie.” She says, only warmth in her voice. “I’m here, and I’ve got you. It’s all right.” I feel nothing but kindness and love from her words, not even a hint of anger in her voice. Hearing the conviction in her voice, a new wave of tears emerge from my eyes. Not tears of fear, or of sorrow, but of pure relief. I stand there, wrapped in her embrace, and continue to let out the emotions I’ve been carrying for too long. It feels like years have passed standing there, although in reality, only a few minutes have likely passed. I feel Emma begin to pull away, and I look down at my feet, embarrassed by my emotional outburst. A moment of silence lingers for a moment longer, before I hear her speak. “Are you okay now?” I see the concern in her eyes, still worried about me. I sniffle a bit, and attempt to regain my composure. “I…I’m okay. Thank you…for the hug…” I trail off “Are you sure? It’s okay to not be okay, you know.” She looks at me, awaiting my response. “Yeah, no I’m okay now. It was just…a bit of a shock is all. Last time I forget my phone.” I attempt to make the situation a bit less awkward with my joke, and I think it worked, maybe just a bit. “Listen, I know you’ve probably got a million different things running through your mind right now, but let me reiterate; I’m not mad, not in the slightest. Why don’t you sit down, I’ll make us some coffee, and we can talk about all of…well, this.” I give a slight nod, and head over to the kitchen table. I watch as Emma walks towards the kitchen, turning back long enough to give me a reassuring smile. (I should take a moment to compose myself. I mean, we’ve gotta talk about it at this point.) I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, holding it for just a moment before releasing, and repeating the process. As I feel myself regaining my composure, I open my eyes to see Emma walking out of the kitchen. She places a mug full of coffee in front of me, plenty of cream and sugar inside, before taking the seat next to me. I take a whiff of the warm beverage, and bring the cup to my lips, taking a savory sip. “Before I say anything…” Emma starts “I want you to talk. What does all of this…” she points to my outfit “mean to you. No judgment, just start where you’re comfortable, and speak truthfully.” Where do I even begin, I wonder. How do I explain all of this? Do I lie? Make up some kind of excuse for why I’m wearing diapers and baby clothes? I look into Emma’s eyes, and I begin to feel at ease. I decide to tell her. I decide to tell her everything. “Well…I’m into all of this. I’m an “ABDL”, which stands for Adult Baby Diaper Lover.” I see her expression remains unchanged, so I continue. “I’ve always had a fascination for Diapers, for as long as I can remember. I always dreamed of going back to the moments of my childhood, even when I was…well still a child. I would dream of being able to go back to Diapers, and just enjoy the carefree experience of an infant. As I grew older, my feeling began to change and evolve, becoming more…complex. Not only was I discovering my sexuality, and how it plays into my obsession, but I also began to figure out more about myself. I began questioning my life, trying to figure out why I felt like I was a stranger in my own skin. I would look online, trying to see if someone, anyone, felt the way I felt. Not only did I find out about ABDL, but I discovered that some people can be “Transgender.” After reading more about the experiences of Trans Men and Women, I finally figured out what was “wrong” with me.” I feel Emma place her hand on top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. From the moment I met her, she knew about my gender identity. Having always known that she was accepting, I still felt a little anxious, telling my whole story. I take a breath, and continue on with my story. “Maybe a part of me wanted to relive the moments of my childhood, because I never truly had “my” childhood. I was just pretending to be what everyone thought I was. Now that I knew who I was…I knew I had to hide it.” “Why?” Emma asks. “I mean, I get hiding your interest in Ageplay, but why did you feel like you had to hide your identity?” I wince, reliving the harsh memories like they were yesterday. “I hid it because I lived in the south, and it was the 2010’s. The folks down there aren’t exactly welcoming to those who are…different.” I pause, steeling myself for what comes next. “That included my parents. I knew full well how they felt about “Queers”, and I knew for a fact that they wouldn’t change their minds, not even for their own blood.” Emma looks shocked. “I…I knew you didn’t talk to your parents, but you never talked about why. I can’t…I can’t even imagine the feeling.” “Yeah, it was Hell. But I survived. I buried my true feeling deep down, and continued living a life that wasn’t mine. I got through Middle School, and even High School, hating the changes happening to my body, but unable to do anything about it. I just…tried not to think about it. I buried myself into my school work, doing everything and anything I could do to keep myself busy. Eventually, that paid off, and I graduated with honors. I even got scholarship offers from Universities. And then I finally realized…I could be free. I was about to be out in the world, on my own, free to do as I may. And suddenly, I began to feel alive again. I began making plans. I got myself into school, registered for classes, and got into the dorms.” “So you could finally live as yourself? Sounds like you found a way to be happy.” I looked at Emma. I always appreciate her optimism, but not everything works out as you hope in life. “Yeah it does…but then I made a mistake.” She looks at me with a mix of curiosity, confusion and worry. “It was supposed to be a happy day. I was moving out. I had my car all packed and everything. All I had to do was hop in, turn the key, and never look back. I didn’t do that. For some reason, I thought I could finally tell my parents about who I was, who I wanted to be. I told them I was Trans…and regretted it.” I see a tear form in Emma’s eye, too shocked to even speak. “My father told me I was a freak, a degenerate looser, and that I would be doomed to Hell for my sins. He…did more than yell.” I reached to the neck of my clothes and pulled it to the side, showing off my faint scar from all those years ago. I see a look of shock and anger fill her face for a moment, before returning her expression back to composed. She reaches over, feeling the surface of my skin. “That’s how you got that scar? I always assumed it was from something embarrassing, not something so…so wrong! How could he do that to you?” I’ve asked myself the same question over the years. “He told me to leave, and never come back, or else he’d bury me in the ground. Mom..my mother just stood there, not even looking at me. I don’t know if she was just scared of my father, or if she agreed with him. All I know, is that she wouldn’t even look at me. So…I left, and never went back. That…that was the last time I heard from either of them.” “Roxie, I’m so sorry. Nobody should have to go through something like that.” She reaches around the table and gives me a hug. No tears flowed from me this time though, that memory had already extracted all the tears it ever would. “It’s okay Emma. The story gets a bit better from here. I went to college out of state, finally leaving the bigotry of the south behind, and I moved into the dorms, free for the first time. I even had a dorm room to myself. I swear, when I found that out, I felt that my luck was finally turning around. I finally had the time, space and availability to start being me. I got a part time job, and since I didn’t have any other expenses besides my car insurance, I had a good amount of disposable income. I ordered clothes for myself, started practicing make-up, dyed my hair, and even started out on hormones. I was, for the first time in my life, living for myself. Once I got settled into my new life, my mind turned back to my…other interests. I ordered diapers, onesies, pacifiers, you name it, having it all delivered to a P.O box. People saw me bringing packages to my dorm room all the time; they probably thought it was more clothes or something. It wouldn’t have mattered if the did though, nothing was going to stop me, not anymore. I began letting myself explore my ageplay kink, and let me tell you, the first time I put on a diaper, I felt complete. Everything that I had lived through, all the pain, all the suffering, it was all worth it. So..I kept doing it. And well…that’s where we are today.” I wait for her response with baited breath. “Thank you, Roxie, for sharing your story. I can’t imagine your struggle. I mean, having to deal with all of that…your family, and…just wow. I’m glad you were able to find yourself, and embrace the little within you. I want you to know, I love you, and nothing you’ve told me has changed that.” Emma smiles at me, and I return it back to her. It was my turn now to lean over the table, embracing the woman that I love. Then, something hits me. I never mentioned the term “Little” in my explanation. In fact, Emma used the word “Ageplay” before I even brought it up. I then remember the smile she gave me when I was caught; like she knew what I was doing. Not one point during this ordeal did she ever question the fact that I was wearing a onesie, or a wet diaper for that matter. I break the embrace, and look into her eyes. I ask the question now in my mind. “Emma, you know more about Ageplay than you’re letting on, don’t you?” She looks at me for a moment, then returns that same smile I saw earlier in the day. “Guilty.” She says. “Since you were so open with me, I’m going to be open with you.” It was now my turn to listen. “I’m into Ageplay too. Specifically, I’m a Mommy. I’ve been a Mommy for a long time, years before I met you. I actually started out exploring BDSM, and while I enjoyed all the bondage, and the domination, it was always missing something for me. I was craving that touch of innocence that comes with Ageplay. I won’t hit you with my whole backstory right now. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not hiding anything from you, but you’ve had a long day, and I don’t want to dump too much on you at once. For now, know that I’m just as weird and kinky as you.” I sat there, mouth open. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine Emma, my girlfriend Emma, would even know about the world of Ageplay, let alone having been involved with it for years. My mind was swimming with questions, but she’s right, it has already been a long enough day. However, there was still one more question on my mind, that I just had to have answered. “That still doesn’t explain something. Why weren’t you surprised with me being into Ageplay? You didn’t seem shocked at all. It’s almost like…” “Like I knew?” She finished. “It’s because I did.” I see a guilty look appear on her face. “It wasn’t intentional, and I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I found your stash months ago. I was looking for my old sneakers, and was surprised to find a key inside the sole. You could imagine my confusion. Just as I was walking out of the closet, I…well, I tripped over my own feet.” I laugh, knowing full well that Emma gets distracted when cleaning and looking for things. “Yeah, laugh it up diaper girl.” We both get a laugh out of that one. “Anyways, I spent the next 10 minutes trying to figure out where I dropped the key. I looked everywhere. I checked behind the dresser, under the chair, and then looked under the bed, where I found your chest. At least I knew what the key went to, now I just had to find the key. Ironically, it was in my shoe. Don’t ask how it got there, I to this day don’t know how it happened. I unlocked the chest, and was surprised by the contents, mostly because I knew what everything inside was. I knew I didn’t have any supplies left in the house, and realized based on the sizes that they belonged to you. Plus, out of all the women I’ve ever met, nobody wears more skulls than you. I then panicked a bit, realizing I had intruded on your secret stash. I quickly locked it back up and put the key back in its hiding spot.” “Why…why didn’t you say anything? You had to know at the time it was all kink-related stuff?” I was now confused, wondering why she didn’t act on her knowledge, confront me, hell do anything with what she just learned. “I didn’t say anything because it was your secret to share. It didn’t matter that I was a Mommy, or if you were a Little, it was your secret, and you shouldn’t have had to reveal it before you were ready. If I was sorry for anything, it would be for not knocking before I came in…but this is my place too, so you could imagine how silly that would be.” I got up from my seat, and walked in close to Emma. She looked at me, unsure of what I was going to do. I move in closer, and bring my lips to hers, kissing her deeply. It lasts for a moment longer, before I begrudgingly pull back, needing to get the words out of my throat. “Thank you Emma, for the space, for listening…for everything.” “Don’t mention it. Now that the emotional stuff is over with, I’m suddenly hungry. How about I order us a Pizza, and we watch a movie, and just relax for the rest of the night?” “Sounds good to me!” I state enthusiastically, glad to put the negativity from before behind me. “Alright, how about you head to the couch and pick out something for us to watch? I’ll call the restaurant now.” As Emma pulls out her phone, I begin walking over to the couch, before realizing I’m still in my little attire. (I should probably get changed. Don’t want to push my luck tonight.) I turn around and start walking over to the bedroom, when Emma places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. “Where are you going?” she asks. “Oh, I was just going to change my clothes…for the movie.” I state, not quite ready to talk about my outfit aloud. I don’t know if I was just embarrassed, or if I was afraid she wouldn’t want me dressed like this right now. Emma then gave me a smile. “Don’t be silly, that’s a perfect outfit. Now get on the couch, crinkle butt.” She says, and gives me a quick swat on the butt, a crinkle sound emanating from my rear. A huge smile forms on my face, and I head back to the couch. I have a thought to myself. “How did I get so lucky?”

Intro Evelyn, a middle-aged history professor at the local college, found solace in the routine of her early morning and late nights spent on the balcony of her cozy apartment. Perched on a comfortable chair, she would watch the world pass by, lost in her thoughts. The balcony offered a front-row seat to the daily comings and goings of college students, who unknowingly became characters in the silent play that unfolded before her. Despite her engaging lectures and dynamic teaching style, Evelyn often felt an overwhelming sense of solitude. Her unconventional schedule, with most classes held in the evening, left her with free mornings and afternoons. The balcony became her haven, a place where she could reflect on the pages of history and, more intimately, on the chapters of her own life. One particular ritual, hidden from the eyes of her colleagues and students, unfolded on those quiet afternoons. Evelyn would find herself drawn to the comfort of an old habit — sucking her thumb. It was a habit she often enjoyed, especially when watching young love unfold from her balcony; something she greatly regretted not having. As Evelyn sat on her balcony, thumb often creeping into her mouth, she observed the ebb and flow of college life beneath her. The students, backpacks slung over their shoulders, chatted animatedly as they walked past her apartment building. Some were engrossed in their smartphones, while others eagerly discussed the day's lectures and upcoming exams. Unbeknownst to Evelyn, the students were aware of her discreet balcony retreat. In many ways the balcony has become a living attraction to bypassing students over the years; no one went out of their way for it, but no one regregretted strolling past. [There was an unspoken agreement to respect the privacy of their history professor, a woman who held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the past but guarded her own secrets with equal diligence.] Evelyn, absorbed in her historical musings and thumb-sucking reverie, believed herself to be invisible to the world below. She found comfort in the anonymity of her perch, where she could be both a spectator and a participant in the theater of daily life. One day, as the students passed by her balcony as usual, something unexpected happened. A brave soul among them, a young woman named Sarah, decided to break the unspoken barrier. She smiled warmly at Evelyn and nodded in acknowledgment. As the days went by, Sarah made other distant gestures to Evelyn, such as small waves and momentarily inserting her own thumb into her mouth, as if playfully asking a child, "Do you need to suck your thumb?" Despite these subtle attempts at connection, Evelyn remained reserved. Evelyn continued her balcony rituals, she found a new sense of camaraderie with this unknown (to her) student. The unspoken understanding between them deepened, and the balcony became a symbol of connection, bridging the gap between professor and student in a way that transcended the formalities of the classroom. And so, history continued to unfold, both in the lectures within the college walls and in the quiet moments on Evelyn's balcony. Chapter I Lisa: Hey, Sarah! How was your day? Sarah: Oh, you know, the usual. But something interesting happened today. You know the professor who sits on the balcony and sucks her thumb? Lisa: Professor Evelyn? Yeah, I've seen her. She seems so lost and lonely up there; often sucking her thumb, thinking the world doesn't know her secret. Sarah: Well, I've been trying to break the ice, you know? Like playful waves and pretending to suck my thumb too. Just trying to make her smile. Lisa: That's sweet of you, babe. But why? What made you decide to do that? Sarah: I don't know, Lisa. There's something about her that just tugs at my heart. I see her up there all alone, and I can't help but feel like she needs a friend. Lisa: You think we should be her friends? She seems more ? Sarah: Yeah, that's what I was thinking. She's so cute and childlike. It got me thinking... What if we could be more than just her friends? Lisa: You mean, like, adopt her into our lives? Sarah: Exactly. I mean, she's alone up there, and I can't shake off this feeling that she needs something more stable. We could be that stability for her. Lisa: That's a big step, Sarah. But, you know, I've been feeling the same way. She's become a part of our thoughts and conversations. Sarah: I know it's huge, but I can't stand the thought of her being alone. I want to make her a part of our unconventional family. Lisa: Let's take it slow, then. Maybe we can start by getting to know her better. You said you're in her history class, right? Why don't you try talking to her? Sarah: Yeah, I am. I'll give it a shot, but we need to be careful. We don't want to overwhelm her. Lisa: Absolutely. We'll take it step by step. If she's comfortable with it, maybe she could join us for coffee or something. Sarah: Perfect. Let's see where this goes. I really think we could make a difference in her life. As Sarah and Lisa discuss the possibility of "adopting" Professor Evelyn into their lives, the balcony stands as a silent witness to their evolving plan. The dialogues reflect the mix of compassion, care, and the desire to bring a sense of family to someone who seems to need it. Chapter II Evelyn, engrossed in her historical research and the quiet moments of reflection on the balcony, remained blissfully unaware that Sarah was one of her own students. The campus was vast, and the lecture halls were filled with faces, making it easy for a single student to blend into the crowd. Sarah, who often chose a seat in the back of the class, had mastered the art of anonymity. One day, as Evelyn, who was often engrossed in her lecture notes, looked up at her Intro to World History students and noticed Sarah. A mix of emotions swept over Evelyn—surprise, curiosity, and a touch of embarrassment that she hadn't recognized her only balcony companion as a student. The realization added a new layer to their interactions. Evelyn pondered whether Sarah had intentionally chosen to sit in the back of the class, maintaining a discreet distance between the formal academic setting and their informal balcony connection. Despite the revelation, Evelyn decided to let the connection evolve organically, choosing not to confront Sarah about their shared secret. However, she began to notice Sarah playfully sucking her thumb during lectures, making sure that Professor Evelyn noticed her playfulness. The following evening, Evelyn approached the lecture hall with a newfound awareness. As she began her class, she noticed Sarah sitting in her usual spot at the back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The other students, oblivious to the connection between their professor and their classmate, immersed themselves in the lesson. After the lecture, as students filed out of the hall, Sarah lingered for a moment. With a subtle nod and a twinkle in her eye, she acknowledged the unspoken understanding between them. Evelyn reciprocated with a grateful smile, silently appreciating the delicate balance they had struck between the formalities of academia and the genuine connection that had formed on the balcony. As the semester progressed, Evelyn and Sarah continued their silent interactions, weaving a unique tapestry of connection that transcended the traditional roles of teacher and student. The balcony, once a place of solitude, had become a bridge between two lives—a place where history unfolded not only in the pages of textbooks but also in the quiet moments shared between a professor and a student. Chapter III Sarah's after-class visits became a cherished ritual, adding a new dimension to the connection she shared with Evelyn. While other students hurriedly packed their bags and left, Sarah lingered, patiently waiting for her turn to approach the professor. "Professor," she would begin, maintaining the formal address that characterized their interactions; though her quiet motherly voice made Evelyn feel as though the roles were switched. Her questions were a clever mix of academic curiosity and a genuine desire to know Evelyn on a more personal level. Sometimes, her questions dived into the intricacies of the day's lecture, showcasing Sarah's dedication to the subject matter. Other times, the questions subtly steered toward understanding the woman behind the professorial facade. Evelyn, in turn, welcomed these post-lecture conversations. Sarah's inquiries provided a bridge between the structured world of academia and the uncharted territory of personal connection. Evelyn found herself opening up, sharing anecdotes from her own academic journey, and offering insights that transcended the confines of the classroom. As the weeks unfolded, Sarah's questions became more personal, yet she maintained a respectful distance. She never overstepped boundaries or pressed too far into Evelyn's private life. The discussions, although occasionally veering into the realm of personal experiences, remained grounded in the shared love for history and the pursuit of knowledge. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast a warm glow on the balcony, Sarah hesitated before asking a question. "Professor, I was wondering," she began, "what inspired you to become a historian?" The question opened a door to Evelyn's past, and she shared stories of mentors who had shaped her journey, pivotal moments that ignited her passion, and the challenges she had overcome. Chapter IV One Sunday evening, Evelyn decided to treat herself, and go out to the local bar, for a night cap instead of her usual at home alone time. While seated at the bar, alone, she suddenly noticed Sarah seated next to her. After exchanging pleasantries, Sarah offered Evelyn to join her and her friends for a night on the town. Being substantially older, and wanting to go home Evelyn deeply hesitated; however, after some persistent nagging by Sarah, Evelyn obliged and join Sarah and her friends. The evening started with the promise of a casual and enjoyable time, but as the drinks flowed, Evelyn lost touch with the limits she had unknowingly set for herself. The laughter and shared stories became a blur, and the once-composed professor found herself caught in the grip of intoxication. As the night wore on, Evelyn's words began to slur, and her movements became unsteady. Unaware of the extent of her inebriation, she continued to share anecdotes and insights, but the clarity that usually defined her words was replaced by a haze of alcohol-induced fuzziness. Sarah, watching the gradual transformation in her professor's demeanor, became increasingly concerned. Like a frog in slowly boiling water, Evelyn seemed oblivious to the changes in her own behavior. The warmth of the evening, and the warmth in her pants, had given way to a more somber atmosphere as Sarah recognized the signs of excess. As the night approached its end, Sarah made a decision fueled by genuine concern for her teacher. Rather than leaving as originally planned, she offered, "Evelyn, I think it's best if I stay the night. Just to make sure you're okay by morning." Evelyn, caught in the haze of alcohol, managed a nod, as her thumb glided into her mouth, her usual composed demeanor now replaced by a vulnerable state. Sarah took charge, guiding Evelyn to her apartment with a supportive arm around her shoulders. Once inside, Sarah ensured Evelyn was comfortable and settled before quietly going about making the necessary arrangements for an unexpected overnight stay. Throughout the night, Sarah kept a watchful eye on Evelyn, periodically checking in to ensure she was safe and comfortable. The balcony, witness to so many shared moments, now stood silent as the night unfolded. In the quiet hours, Sarah reflected on the evolving dynamics of their relationship and the responsibility that came with genuine concern for another person. When the first few students passed by the balcony, Sarah decided it was best to leave before anyone noticed her up on the professor's balcony. Evelyn was still deep in her slumber not fully awake from the night before. Chapter V The following week, Evelyn, haunted by the memory of the pub incident, decided to take the initiative and invited Sarah to meet for coffee at a quiet and public place. The atmosphere was tense as they settled into a corner of the coffee shop, surrounded by the hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Sarah, I wanted to apologize for that night at the pub," she began, her voice carrying a mix of remorse and embarrassment. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on a drinking binge; let alone with a group of students…” Sarah, understanding the sincerity in Evelyn's apology, nodded in acknowledgment. "No need to apologize, Evelyn. We all have our moments. Let's just move past it," she reassured. However, as the conversation shifted, Sarah pulled out her phone,“stumbled upon images of the night before, as the two searched for an old message Evelyn had once sent Sarah… Evelyn's eyes widened in horror as Sarah showed her the images and later videos of night.. There, on the small screen, was a selfie of Evelyn, thumb in her mouth, seated on Sarah's lap at the pub . Another video revealed Evelyn giving an non-understandable speech, as a dark spot slowly grew around her groin. Evelyn's face turned several shades of red as embarrassment washed over her. "Sarah, I... I had no idea," she stammered, feeling a mix of humiliation and regret. Sarah, however, surprised Evelyn by laughing gently. "Don't worry, Evelyn. I promise not to use these pictures against you. When we had reached home, I had helped you take a shower and washed your clothes. As I walked home, before you had woken, or students walking towards their morning classes, I kept thinking how cute and vulnerable you were that night. It was as if something inside you finally opened up”. Caught off guard, Evelyn hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Sarah continued, "Actually, you look so adorable in these videos. Do you mind if I keep them? I promise, it's just for our private memories." Too embarrassed to even say anything, Evelyn stood up and left the coffee shop. Too shocked and shaken to even fully comprehend Sarah had said. Chapter VI Evelyn attempted to avoid Sarah at all costs, like a child she hid behind the curtains of her balcony in hopes that Sarah would not see her. She found a very nice teaching assistant to replace her for a few weeks in class, but eventually, Evelyn couldn't not go back to teaching. Sarah on the other hand, tried to reach out to Evelyn, trying to explain herself and make sure she’s ok. However, a few days before final exams, on the final day of classes, Evelyn had no choice but to resume her teaching. Throughout the lecture, Evelyn kept looking up at Sarah, who for her part pretended to be listening to the lecture, but in reality was planning her next step. When Evelyn finally finished her lecture, and asked whether anyone have questions regarding the final, Sarah raised her; Evelyn made the mistake of calling Sarah before calling anyone else. Sarah, standing up, asked - “Professor Evelyn, history is filled with secrets, can you show everyone your biggest secret?”, as if on queue, Evelyn began sucking her thumb. It was unclear to Evelyn what happened the next few minutes, but she somehow found herself, in the back of Sarahs’ car, wearing only a pull-up and her thumb in her mouth. Chapter VII Like a small child holding her mommy’s hand, Evelyn walked a pace behind Sarah towards the door. As the two reached Sarah’s apartment, the door suddenly opened by a woman, who was slightly older than Sarah, but clearly much younger than Evelyn. The woman introduced herself to Evelyn as though she was talking to a preschooler; offering Evelyn to sit on the floor and play with the plush toys laying around. Next thing Evelyn knew she was seated on the floor, staring up at the two young women, who could easily have been her own daughters, had she decided to get married and have a family. Sarah and her lover explained their plan. Evelyn was to be their baby, and both women would be called "mommy." The shock deepened as Evelyn, still constantly sucking her thumb, struggled to process the information. "I... I don't understand. Why? How?" Evelyn stammered, her voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Sarah's lover, whose name remained a mystery, spoke gently, "We've seen you sucking your thumb on the balcony every morning as we walked towards campus. I then saw your videos from the pub, and think the loss of control is simply because of too much control and maybe starting over is what you need. What you seem to want…” Chapter VIII In the quiet darkness of the nursery, Evelyn lay in her toddler bed, surrounded by the soft hues of pastel colors and the comforting presence of plush toys. As she drifted closer to sleep, her mind swirled with a cascade of thoughts and reflections. The weight of the revelation bore down on Evelyn's mind. Years as a professor, yet it took two students, Sarah and her lover, to unravel the depths of her secrets. The dichotomy between her public persona as an educator and the vulnerability she now embraced in the nursery left her contemplative. Evelyn wondered how the carefully constructed walls around her personal life had crumbled in the face of these two determined students. What was it about her habits, her idiosyncrasies, that had been so transparent to them? The balcony, once a sanctuary of solitude, now seemed like an inadvertent stage where her private rituals were unwittingly exposed. In the dim light of the nursery, Evelyn couldn't shake the astonishment that these two women had not only uncovered her secrets but had actively taken steps to provide for her needs, albeit in an unconventional way. The complexity of the situation left her in a state of vulnerability, wrapped in a strange sense of care and intimacy that defied the traditional roles she had known for so long. As sleep finally claimed her, Evelyn's thoughts lingered on the mystery of connection—how these two students had seen beyond the professor and discovered the layers that lay beneath. The nursery, once a symbol of surprise and uncertainty, became a cocoon where Evelyn could rest, suspended between the past and an unforeseen future, her mind echoing with the enigma of newfound connections that transcended the boundaries of academia. Chapter IX When Sarah woke Evelyn up the next day, Evelyn found Sarah's lover making Evelyn's favorite breakfast. Evelyn sat at the table, as a bib was put on her and kids utensils (fork only) were provided Sarah's lover gave Evelyn a pre-cut plate and a sippy-cup with OJ. As Evelyn tried to feed herself, but really was being fed by Sarah, Sarah’s lover began to explain their plan… For the next 4 weeks, they'll treat Evelyn at a different age. AAt the end of the 4 weeks Evelyn will decide the desired age; then once a year Evelyn will decide if she wants to grow up, grow down or stay the same. Week 1 - 2 yr old Week 2 - 3 yr old Week 3 - 4 yr old Week 4 - 5 yr old Evelyn agreed, and so after breakfast Lisa took Evelyn to get dressed. As Lisa dressed Evelyn, she explained what life at each age would be like. Evelyn sat motionless as mommy Lisa, dressed her and talked. Explaining that while clothing and toys would change for each age, the use of diapers or pull-ups would not, nor would the ability to inform a grown-up when she had used her diaper. For her final touch, Lisa put a nice big bow , and a pacifier attached to her shirt. About an hour later, Sarah came out of their office and announced they're going on a walk. like a good mother and to Evelyn's surprise Sarah put Evelyn in a stroller. When Evelyn tried to protest, Lisa pushed the pacifier attached to Evelyn’s shirt in her mouth as Sarah pushed her out of the house. After about an hour’s walk, Evelyn was brought back home for a nap and some playtime, before being bathed and put to bed. Her days were suddenly all the same, sometimes their walks would end up in a playground, where Evelyn was expected to play with kids in her “age” group. Slowly, Evelyn was finally feeling happy, there was nothing humiliating or sexual about the behaviors of Lisa and Sarah towards her; they simply wanted to fulfill her unspoken dreams. Chapter X Towards the end of month, Evelyn was already being treated like a 5 year-old who wears pull-ups, something odd happened… Instead of being dressed like a “big kid”, Lisa put her in a diaper. Confused, Evelyn asked “Mommy, why am I dressed like a baby?”, to which Lisa replied “it’s a surprise…”. As breakfast Sarah began feeding Evelyn her breakfast, Evelyn asked “Mommy, why are you and mommy treating me like a baby again?”. Like Lisa, Sarah replied “it’s a surprise…” When breakfast was finished, Sarah put Evelyn in her playpen, and disappeared into the bedrooms. A few minutes later, Lisa and Sarah reappeared with 2 suitcases, Evelyn’s diaper bag. Their mysterious adventure began at the airport, where Evelyn, although having her own seat, spent the entire flight sitting on either Lisa or Sarah's lap. When the three reached their hotel room, Evelyn was put to bed for an early nap; after which she was put in a baby pastel dress, a diaper, and a pacifier clipped to her dress. After dressing themselves and Evelyn, the three women embarked towards an unknown for Evelyn but a clear destination for her mommies. After about a 15-minute stroll, they arrived at a really nice restaurant. To Evelyn's surprise, they were meeting Lisa's parents, who greeted her with the warmth one would reserve for a 2-year-old. The woman, who Lisa called mom, seemed vaguely familiar to Evelyn, though it was clear to her that they were both younger than her. Throughout dinner, the "adults" engaged in conversation, seemingly oblivious to Evelyn's presence. In this adult-oriented restaurant, one without a kids menu, Sarah and Lisa had come prepared, bringing baby food and a bottle for Evelyn. As the adults waited for their dessert, Lisa’s mom, who by now Evelyn had learned was named Tina, took Evelyn to sit on her lap. Acting fussy, Tina took Evelyn's clipped pacifier and inserted it into Evelyn’s mouth; as she recollected how the roles have changed. According to her story, Tina and Evelyn not only went to the same college. In fact, Evelyn was best friend’s with Tina’s big sister; and while never a part of the sorority, she often had the chance to haze Tina – forcing her to suck her thumb or a pacifier. Oftentimes Evely had a pacifier waiting for when Tina showed up with her “older sister”. She had finished the story with “oh how the tables have turned”... The next day, they went to another restaurant, this one more "child-friendly". This time meeting not only Sarah’s parents, also her slightly older sister and 2-year-old nephew, as well as Sarah’s 10-year-old brother. From the moment they arrived at lunch, it became clear to Evelyn she was the “baby” of the group. Her new “nephew” was wearing pull-ups, not diapers and was no longer using a pacifier during the day; while the 10-year-old was clearly treated much more as an adult as she has in the past month. As the adults waited for their food something inexplicable happened to Evelyn. She found herself lying on her aunty’s lap, being breastfed as if she were nothing more than an infant. By the time food arrived, Evelyn was already back in her stroller, sucking her pacifier and watching baby-ish videos on her mommy’s iPad. As the video played inches from her face, Evelyn had an internal conflict. On the one hand, she was enjoying the idea of being treated as she was. Having her deepest secrets and darkest secrets, even ones she didn’t understand how her mommies knew of, fulfilled. On the other hand, she understood that if she stays this way any longer she’ll never be an adult again. Even now, she wasn’t sure if she was still potty trained or not. Chapter XI Coming back to reality, Sarah, Lisa and Evelyn understood that they’d be better off financially if Professor Evelyn would go back to teaching. However, having your “mommy” walk you to class as you suck on a pacifier or thumb decreases your authoritarianism in the classroom. Worse off was “Professor Evelyn” when she’d mess herself, and begin to cry while giving a lecture on the timeline of events the class will cover during her third class. It had reached a point so bad that Evelyn’s boss called her into her office. Arriving with her two mommies, and sucking her pacifier, Evelyn arrived at her boss's office. As Evelyn sat on Sarah's lap, the dean listened to Lisa as she explained the state of Evelyn. Instead of firing Evelyn, the dean provided an unique proposal…. Evelyn would continue to receive her pay, but she would no longer be required to teach. In return, the dean requested that they collaborate on writing academic papers that explored Evelyn's regression and the process of her re-aging, with the goal of returning to a 5-year-old state by the time Sarah graduated in three years. Lisa and Sarah agreed, with the condition of legally declaring Evelyn as a child; which the dean was more than happy to help with. And so… Evelyn was declared a 2-year-old, Sarah became a psychology major and Lisa a childhood education major, both trying to reteach the ever so resistant Evelyn to slowly grow-up.

Hi everybody! As a long time lurker and even longer writer for my own enjoyment, I finally got the push to actually share something. It couldn't have been done without the help of some writer friends, /u/Sissybecky (r/abdlstories) who beta read and Clairanette (aka Clairacuddles on A03), talking to both of them for hours about writing. Check them out too! Scarlet is a young woman down on her luck. She has a broken heart, bank account, and sex life. Her luck finally seems to be changing when she is offered a job on the outher side of the country, and really has no option but to take it. But what she doesn't know about the city of Caulfield Valley may get her in trouble, like what her new boss, Emilia Kane, secretly does as a side hussle. a slowburn, long form lesbian fic that is very kinky and ABDL oriented. 1- so it feels real There is both terror and freedom in restarting your life. Not in a cosmic sense, but in the moving-across-the-country-and-leaving-everyone-you-knew-on-the-opposite-coast sense. That is where Scarlet found herself this morning. Eyes red from her jetlag, hair a mess from the uncomfortable seats, and a puffy-eyed death stare meeting her from the scratched bathroom mirror. Even with her fresh start, the fresh apartment, she was not ready for her first day at a new job in this new, unfamiliar city. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to forget. She wanted to go back to her home with—a pang of heartbreak through her chest interrupted the thought. That home was no longer there, and no one was waiting for her to come home. Instead, Scarlet let out a dejected sigh, opened the cardboard moving box that contained the toiletries that were not in her carry-on, and got in the shower. She was up far earlier than she realistically needed to be, to make sure she could wash her hair, shave her legs, and still have plenty of time for makeup and a relaxed cab ride to work. The pipes whined and hot water splashed her face as the new-ish utilities sprung to life. She focused on getting the sleep out of her eyes. She resented her own anxious, over-prepare-until-exhausted tendencies. Yet Scarlet knew that on mornings where she didn’t do this, she was late. It was part of why she’d lost her last position as a Library clerk. God, that feels like a lifetime ago. If I started taking those then…what if... Scarlet let the thought drift up with the steam, and focused on the rigorous maintenance that her curly, shoulder-length bob required. The rest of the shower went likewise. She would move on to some other form of self-grooming, only for another intrusive thought to appear, and she would do her best to let it roll off of her. By the time she was done, dripping into a towel and stepping out, she had gotten most of the self loathing scrubbed off. Scarlet turned to face the same mirror. She wiped the fogged glass with one pale hand, and the same dead-eyed look greeted her. Scarlet forced a smile, hollow but just enough to come across as courteous and eager, rather than like a retail worker who was dead inside. She had plenty of practice masking in this way. Her breakfast was a microwaved cup of coffee and protein bar, the leftovers from her flight. She’d have to go to the grocery after work. She ate just enough to then turn to her prescriptions, the small, resentful white triangles tasting bitter and frustrating, her knowing that it was a 50/50 on whether she would be vomiting before lunch. The three small blue estrogen pills had to melt sublingually, and wouldn’t upset her stomach. They did, however, taste like minty asshole as they dissolved under her tongue while she started her makeup routine. It went quickly, Scarlet’s old “professional” looks still in her head after years of rushed mornings where her mediocre nutrition and makeup routine battled for time. Her hands danced; brushing, patting, dabbing, blending, and setting at a quick but deliberate pace. This wasn’t Scarlet’s first time working places that made her tone down her looks and cover her smattering of artsy tattoos that criss crossed her arms. Her new boss had assured her however, that so long as she wore at least business casual and none of the tattoos visible were profane, no one would care. Simple enough to cover the guillotine on her shoulder blade or the shoddy stick and poke of her highschool bff’s band “The Fart Coffins” on the opposite blade. She only sometimes regretted that one out of any of the designs on her body. She finished with a modest amount of very neutral blush, and got up to dress in the outfit she had laid out the night before. A simple white blouse and black skirt, black tie, black flats. Should show a good first impression for a secretary of a legal office. She couldn’t help but roll the sleeves partially, however, showing hints and edges of her ink. Scarlet made sure her hair was dry, shook her head as a jolt of the last taste of estrogen left her mouth, and called for her cab. Just before leaving, she packed her purse, and heard an unfamiliar jingling at the bottom. Fishing through the myriad receipts, dust bunnies and half finished chapsticks, she finally found the culprit, and her heart dropped. A simple gold ring, with an inscription inside; Futile – the winds –/ To a Heart in port –The singular band was heavy in her hand, and Scarlet felt the heartbreak all over again. She wanted nothing more than to scream. She wanted to sob until her throat was hoarse, to wail in pain. She wanted to call her. Instead, she tenderly wiped the welling tear in one eye to preserve her mascara, roughly threw open the drawer to toss the precious bomb in with a clatter. The front door slammed and locked behind her. The cab hummed quietly as it rode down the dense city streets, and Scarlet focused on taking in the sites of tree leaves slowly changing color through the cab window. She was headed further downtown from her new apartment, and even still there were beautiful trees she wasn’t familiar with. This is exactly what I thought the East Coast to look like, and yet it’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined, she mused to herself. She was used to her hometown in the Bay, the palms and pines of the San Francisco and Oakland areas all she had made friends with until now. The trees were dotted in front of the tall downtown shops, looking like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. She took a picture every now and again, killing time until her quiet cab driver pulled over to a sidewalk. Scarlet smoothed her skirt, handed the man his fare and a tip, and stepped out in front of a small office building. Her flats echoed against the shiny, reflective tile as she followed signs and elevator directories to Kane Arbitration & Mediation Legal Services. The interior of the elevator shined, polished enough that Scarlet could see her own reflection. She took a moment as she rode to the fourth floor, using the reflection to adjust her skirt. She was so tall that no matter what she wore, it always eventually turned into a skirt shorter than intended, and that was the last thing she wanted to project on her first day. Once the soft fabric was in place, better resting on her hips and covering much of her long thighs, she noticed she had arrived. Scarlet swallowed, her nerves making it louder than she had wanted, and exited as the doors parted. Kane Legal was one of the only offices on this floor, and it didn’t take her long to find, but she paused outside the door anyway. She took solace in the fact her new employer wouldn’t be able to see her through the doors frosted glass. Scarlet had a moment to steady the shaking in her hands. There’s nothing left for you back there. This has to work. You have no other option. The thought was supposed to be comforting. She opened the door and recalled all the times that thought would light a fire in her—to ignite the contrarian and spiteful nature she had to anyone that doubted her. A year ago, this would have made her unstoppable…but the last year was harder than she could have ever predicted. The reception area of the office was nicely decorated, looking like the kind you’d see on a mid-budget daytime law drama. No one was at the desk that she assumed would be hers, so she tried to peer around a corner leading to what she assumed would be Miss Kane’s proper office. Sure enough, a door at the end of the hall was open and revealed a head of deep black hair peaking just over the top of a large computer monitor. Scarlet took a moment for them to notice her. In another life, Scarlet would have confidently marched into the office, head held high, with enough swagger to convince anyone that she owned this office. Now the poor girl stood there, shivering as her future awaited. The Scarlet of a year ago would have left this newer Scarlet behind, just like the one she cared about the most. She prayed this wasn’t some kind of test. “Excuse me?” She called out, causing the head to twitch, “I’m looking for Miss Kane?” The top of the head rose for a pair of eyes to see just over the top, and then a hand brusquely slid the monitor on a pivoting stand out of the way. Scarlet recognized her now, the telltale hazel, almost golden eyes and a striking streak of platinum blonde to one side having stuck with her since their video interview. “And you have found her.” Her voice merrily sang, reverberating down the tiled hall. She stood. “You must be Ms. Finch. I am so glad to finally get you out here. May I be the first to properly welcome you to Caulfield Valley, I hope your flight was smooth?” Scarlet was immediately put off balance, having to look up at someone for once. Even if Emilia Kane hadn’t been in imposing black heels, she would easily have three inches on the six feet even Scarlet. She effortlessly glided down the hall towards Scarlet, her hand outstretched. Scarlet met her, returning her’s for a handshake. The taller woman’s hands were so soft. “Ah, t-thank you, Ma’am.” She politely smiled, and decided to rest her hands on the strap of her purse so as to not fidget. “I appreciate that, it was a long flight.” She wanted to divulge how exhausted and sore she was, but held back. “That is such a shame.” Emilia twisted her mouth into a concerned frown for a moment, a hand grabbing her chin in thought. “If you ever need to fly for me again, I can make sure you have better accommodations. Thankfully, your first day probably will not be too demanding. I am hoping to simply get you familiar with the way I organize best and have you operating at full speed before my next big meeting in…,” She checked the date on her phone, pulling it from the breast pocket of her dark green suit, “-three days. Does all that sound good?” Scarlet sighed in relief. “More than good, Ma’am, I’m sure I can be up to snuff by the end of the day.” She was a tiny bit surprised by how confident she sounded. “Oh please, Ma’am makes me feel old.” She waved a hand as if shooing the notion away, “I know to most it is respectful, but I prefer ‘Miss’ or just Emilia if it is all the same to you.” She rested the same hand now on her hips, which Scarlet noted were surprisingly accented in this type of suit. She nodded in response, and Emilia gestured for her to sit in the chair behind the receptionist desk. The woman looked like she was off a runway, the two piece suit and platinum jewelry complimenting her intense eyes and the vibrant streak of silver- no, platinum blonde in her hair. The hazel of her eyes became almost amber-gold as the light from the windows caught them. When her new employer wasn’t looking, she shook her head to erase the thoughts. Scarlet couldn’t exactly be thinking about how attractive her boss was if she didn’t want to risk her new living situation. “—and your last employer said you were familiar with all of these programs, is that right?” The question snapped Scarlet back to reality as Emilia motioned to the open windows of the computer. “That’s right. All of this is right in my wheelhouse.” Scarlet affirmed, grateful that the job didn’t seem to have any sudden surprises. “And this looks like a pretty standard inter-office set up on the phones as well. Would you prefer a call or a ping on your computer when you have a call or a client?” She hoped the question would help make her seem competent and ‘a go-getter,’ something her father had told her once upon a time about starting a new job. “A call is fine unless I am already with a client. If I do not respond, you may call regardless.” Emilia said, a small smile of approval spreading across her red lips. “On the topic of clients, occasionally you are to sit in for meetings and you will be taking notes. These are legal matters and meet the standard of attorney-client-privilege. So it is vitally important you understand that anything you hear or write down in those meetings are confidential, but could end up under scrutiny if we were ever to be sued or subpoenaed. Are you comfortable with that?” “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Scarlet nodded, “To be clear, any notes I take are private between you and I unless that happens right? Like—” she kicked herself for her valleygirl filler word, and tried to recover, “a doctor? For example, I wouldn’t talk about this with anyone except you or the client, even during off hours?” Scarlet couldn’t lie to herself and say that didn’t make her anxious. Her understanding of the legal system told her there were a million and one ways to mess up proceedings if everyone didn’t know them ahead of time. The clarity would help alleviate that anxiety. “Exactly. We can talk about it informally outside of the office but we must use discretion. God forbid you run into a client at a bar, make sure neither of you are shouting without realizing. However you got the most important part. Good job.” Something inside Scarlet warmed at her new boss’s approval. Emilia’s phone lit up and began ringing in her hand. She rolled her eyes. “I have to take this,” she explained, grabbing a small packet from the top drawer of the desk, “Just answer the phone if any calls come in and start filling this out with your info so I can make payments and records and such. It will only take a moment!” Emilia walked back up the hall, closing the door of her office. Scarlet could hear her talking in a tone that sounded professional and even, but couldn’t make out anything specific. When Scarlet realized she could not eavesdrop, no matter how hard she tried to focus, she instead grabbed a pen from the desk and focused on the forms. They were typical of starting with any new employer: tax info, new address, signing agreements. Scarlet was sorely missing the over-designed packets she would receive on her first day at each of the oversized chain stores she had grown up working at. The kind that tries to convince the reader that “we’re a family here,” isn’t the same as “your boss will not give a single shit about you if you think for yourself.” They were always a riot to laugh at with her fellow cashiers, clerks, and baristas. Everything was astonishingly professional, and felt tailored to the tiny law office. The forms were of course up to every standard Scarlet was aware of, but everything appeared handwritten and then copied from a master document. The young woman marveled at the curves and loops that seemed so practiced, so official. Calligraphy as a hobby? Scarlet’s daydream was broken as the phone rang. Her arm sprung to life, grabbing the phone and bringing it to her ear. “Hello, Legal Offices of Miss Kane, how can I help you?” Her mind auto piloted the greeting, a tactic she’d learned as a young adult to perform before any social anxiety made her hesitate to answer. There was a silent beat, broken only by soft background hum from the receiver. A deeper voice finally spoke. “Oh, is Miss Kane not in?” “I’m sorry, she’s stepped away for another call. I’m the new secretary.” The professional mask came back to her like a second skin, despite over a year of disuse. “Can I take a message for you?” Scarlet offered. “Er,” The voice stammered for a moment, then clarified, “Yeah. Actually, you can tell her that I have to back out of Friday’s meeting, I won’t be rescheduling. She can keep the deposit. Goodbye.” Scarlet busied herself scribbling the note down. “Wait, I’ll need to tell her your name.” She tried to catch the man before he disconnected. It was too late, the line went dead. Scarlet took a confused look at the receiver before returning it to the cradle. She tried to imagine what would have someone behaving this way, but even her previous customer support and retail work did not track here. Scarlet merely blinked in confusion and returned to filling her new employment forms. She could hear the muffled speech of her new boss, not able to pick distinct words, only cadence. The forms were dull and simple enough, and before too long Emilia’s office door clicked open. Scarlet was finishing the bottom lines of the last page, hoping quietly to impress the imposing woman, as childish as that want may be. Emilia’s heels marked her approach down the hall, and Scarlet spun gracefully in her swivel chair to face her. “Did I hear a call come in while I was gone?” “You did, and I've got a message,” Scarlet tried her best to sound professional yet nonchalant, “your Friday meeting canceled, said to keep his deposit.” She looked up to Emilia to gauge her superior’s reaction. Emilia gave nothing but a solitary eyebrow twitch. “He didn’t leave a name and hung up…is that normal?” “Whether it’s normal or not, we get to keep the deposit for my time, and that’s what matters to me.” Emilia said, too hurried to be as casual. Scarlet decided to just let that slip.There was something going on here, but she would catch the intricacies of the client relationships soon enough. Emilia very pointedly avoided her gaze to check the time, and excused herself again. The rest of the day moved slowly, save for asking Scarlet for a coffee run in the afternoon, which turned into buying a cafe scone for Scarlet’s lunch as well. She busied herself with memorizing the upcoming schedule, the program, and the routine expected of her. She tried not to fidget as the caffeine had its way with her later in the day. The bouncing of her leg coincided with an increase in worry. Would she have another reaction to this medication like her last, and be unable to sleep? Would Emilia be angry that she wasn’t being proactive in some way? How was she supposed to know? She paused, trying to stop ruminating. She lifted her hands away from the keyboard. They were shaking, and she squeezed her eyes closed. When Scarlet opened them, they focused through her fingers, at the sticky note she had written down the message, and the smaller coffee order beneath it. Sighing, she wrote down the coffee order on her phone and on her desktop notepad. If she could do nothing, she would be constructive and prepared for the future. Her hands kept shaking for the remainder of the shift. Scarlet wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety, the caffeine, or her meds. She’d been so isolated until moving she hadn’t noticed if the shaking started then. Just past five, Emilia’s heels clicked down the hall, a smart designer purse over one shoulder. “Now, is there anything I can clarify before we leave?” Her voice sang again and the hall reverberated in tune with her voice like Brian Eno was behind it. Scarlet shook her head, smiling with her mask back on as she spun to face Emilia again. “Thank you so much, but I don’t think I’ve got any questions yet.” Scarlet wanted to be sincere in thanking her, drop the facade and business-casual tone. Speaking without rehearsal tended to bite her in the ass lately. She squeezed her hands between her thighs to try and avoid any probing questions. Scarlet could only imagine suspicious and overbearing concern at best if her new boss thought there was something wrong with her medically. “Is there anything else I can help with? I’ve just been organizing your schedule and getting used to the layout in here all day.” She desperately wanted to get her groceries before it was too dark. “No thank you, Scarlet. You’ve already helped me enormously, you have no idea.” Emilia ushered Scarlet out the door, and locked it behind her. * * If one thing in the world could be counted on, it was chain stores being identical on the inside. Scarlet pushed an identically squeaky cart up identically packed aisles among indistinguishable brands. The only difference really seemed to be the accents. She approached bulk rice bags, hesitated, and drew out her phone with dread. Her meager bank account balance confirmed her fears, and she begrudgingly went for the generic. Other staples like cheap instant ramen and pasta followed suit. The sole splurge was the cheapest, sweetest, garbage brand of red wine she could find. Her cab ride was identical, save for the setting sun behind her. Purples and oranges and cotton-candy-clouds danced behind her, out of view, as she slowly sank her head against the cool glass of the window. At least the trees are still pretty. She raised her phone again to try and take a picture, but the camera went grainy in the growing dark. Her new apartment greeted her with the same lonely tone as when she first received the keys. It was cold, it was empty, the furnishings were bland and picked by the property management company. Nothing here was hers yet, save the stacked boxes of cardboard. Her tired arms carried the groceries to their appropriate resting places, and she cracked open the wine before settingling on the couch. Out of habit she reached for her remote, only to remember she didn’t have a TV yet. Sold for the moving expenses. Scarlet was so tired of sighing. She took a swig of wine, an old comfort that was basically a juicebox and rubbing alcohol that reminded her of being broke in college. She opened her phone, wishing for any stimulation. Her friends, (rather former friends) were still posting stories, still sharing their bad takes and inane jokes. She considered getting off the couch to do the same. It was all performative anyway, right? But the energy wouldn’t come when she called out for it. Another sip, and she swapped apps. Scarlet noticed the singular blink of darkness on her phone’s screen. “Please, you piece of shit. I really can’t afford you to die right now.” Her worries seemed unfounded, as the brilliant screen returned and the malfunction wasn’t replicated for the rest of the night. What was strange, however, were the kinds of new accounts she was being recommended as she scrolled her timeline. Now, Scarlet was no prude. She enjoyed fucking and her alone time as much as anyone. Estrogen and Progesterone even maybe had her hornier than the average. But her timeline wasn’t full of this much smut. She had friends in the sex work game, but she didn’t exactly like, share, favorite, reblog, or any other influencer verb their content. Another website breaking their algorithm again? Even if Dani did porn, she didn’t do this kind of porn. Morbid curiosity, and a slight increase in her pulse, beckoned Scarlet onward. Drawings, videos, and staged photos of women in things she’d only seen in racy HBO content. She didn’t even know what to call the more intricate…props…but felt herself linger on a clip of a woman riding a…pleasure machine plugged into the wall behind her. Scarlet’s face matched her namesake and she scrolled on. A woman sitting at a home office, the quintessential framing of every vlog you’ve ever watched. Finally somebody is fucking sane in this world. She clicked the video without even reading the caption, and the perky eyed labrador retriever of a woman began to speak. “Hi everybody! This is the Channel of O. SO!” The blonde clapped for emphasis. “You’re trying to learn about BDSM, and you have no idea where to start.” Scarlet’s eyes went wide, she took another sip, and watched the woman jumpcut and explain through terrible jokes. It was a trainwreck, steam engines exploding in her mind. It made her hot in the crotch. Scarlet finished her glass, finished the video, and poured herself another while going deeper to the woman’s personal channel. More videos, more introductory guides. Scarlet polished the second glass, and was too engrossed despite the initial impulse to cringe to even pour another. Her alarm rang to remind her to take the rest of her medication, pulling her out of her trance.How long had she been zoned out? It was eight thirty. Losing track of time like that wasn’t uncommon for her and this diversion was welcome. She resigned herself and went to go take another dose of bitter antidepressants and her dose of Progesterone. Once the poison was administered, she looked across her kitchen to the counter where she left her phone. It lay there, like a metal megalith, imposing despite being a little plastic rectangle. Scarlet had to gather her nerve just to walk across the room and lift the damn thing. Once it was back in her hand, she used shaking hands to unlock it. The Channel of O was still smiling up at her, and she felt her cheeks getting redder. Her glass of wine was forgotten as she brought her phone to her bedroom. She unboxed her duvet, and sat on the soft material as the video resumed. Scarlet was enthralled, soaking in every bit of knowledge she could. “There’s all kinds of different dynamics! You’re probably familiar with a ‘master/slave’ dynamic,” The blonde woman began, “but there’s also pets and owners, and even daddies, mommies,—” Scarlet’s pulse quickened,”—or more generically caregivers and littles! Sometimes that’s called ABDL if it involves diapers.” Scarlet felt her breath catch in her throat. Her fingers flew into a flurry, and a private internet search later, her phone was filled with images that made her heartbeat accelerate. Videos, drawings, and many, many depictions of adult women, with all their curves and freckles and other parts that excited Scarlet, in thick diapers. They ranged across all body types, and the infantile garb varied from plain white plastic to over the top patterns to evoke baby diapers. Scarlet continued to scroll, eyes wide in wonder and excitement. She finally stopped, a thumbnail capturing her attention like a punch to the gut and clicked the video. Scarlet’s mouth went wide, and felt herself starting to leak into her panties. A gorgeous, curvaceous woman was lying on her back, supple lips wrapped around the nipples of another woman, in nothing but a pastel colored diaper and delicate, lacy lingerie top. The tender moment evoked breastfeeding, save for the “mother” holding a massive vibrator against the woman’s…diaper. The “baby” of the couple was moaning, growing louder, and Scarlet felt a tent form under her skirt. Eventually, the “baby” was screaming, thrusting her hips into the massive sex toy, in time with cries of “Mommy!” Mommy’s smile was intoxicating. She was very clearly getting off just as much as her baby, her face painted a combination of maternal nurturing, hedonistic pleasure, ecstatic elation, and sadistic control as she began thrusting the enormous vibrator in time with her partner’s thrusts. It was obviously acting on the merit of pornography, but Scarlet couldn’t tear herself away. She allowed her hand to snake up to a nipple poking through her top. Scarlet realized her own arousal, and in embarrassment, closed the tab, flinging her phone to the edge of the bed like it was a dangerous spider. She flung the covers off, racing to the bathroom for a cold shower.

This story is a bit of an odd one as it is the first story i ever made bonus content for. It has two smuttier chapters after the four parts that make up the story. I haven't quite decided whether I'm posting them here. (Oh who am I kidding. Of course they'll be posted.) And for those of you keeping track, we're up to early summer of 2019. The story tags will be updated as the different parts are posted so they won't act as spoilers. And as with my other stories, this series has an entry on my index post. ---------------------------------- Road Trip (Part 1 of 4) "This is booooooring," Nikki gave Sarah one of her patented 'looks'. "I know, I know. I sound like a five-year-old." Sarah held up her hands. "Yes. And let's not forget that this was your suggestion," Nikki said. "Remind me never to make vacation suggestions after binge-watching road movies." Sarah took a sip from the bottle of water sitting in the cup-holder on her side of the dashboard. "I'm not sure if the Mad Max movies count as road movies." Nikki adjusted her sunglasses. "I mean, it's not like they're Easy Rider. Or Thelma and Louise." Sarah looked at Nikki and snickered. "What?" "Oh, I was just wondering what you'd look like wearing a stars-and-stripes motorcycle helmet." Nikki gave the accelerator a little nudge. "Don't make me start singing," she said. Sarah feigned horror. "No; anything but that. Please." "Booooooorn to be wiiiiiiiiiild," Nikki bellowed tunelessly, knowing full well that it would make Sarah cringe. "Get your motor running..." "Stop!" "Head out on the highway..." Nikki continued, despite Sarah's protests. Sarah demonstratively stuck her fingers in her ears. "La-la-la-la-la, I'm not listening, I'm not listening," she said loudly. "Lookin' for adventure, and whatever comes our way..." Nikki stopped there; not because of Sarah's antics, but because she couldn't remember more of the lyrics. Once she stopped singing, Sarah calmed down as well. "You're such a baby," Nikki said with a chuckle. "Says the woman who likes to put me in diapers." Nikki didn't say anything in response. She just reached over and stroked Sarah's cheek briefly. For a while they just drove in silence, Sarah looked at the scenery outside the car. They had long since left the city and its surrounding suburbs, but they still passed clusters of houses or warehouses. They did, however, grow smaller and further apart, giving way to fields. "I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with G," Sarah murmured. "Huh?" "Oh nothing. Just looking at the grass." Sarah stared silently out the window. The road in front of them was straight and empty, and a glance in the mirror revealed an equally straight and empty road behind them. One field looked just like the next and Sarah idly began to wonder if she would even be able to tell if they were actually driving in circles. "So, when are you going to tell me where we're going?" Sarah said after what she was convinced was a long while. "Will you relax? It's barely been two hours since we left. I told you it's a surprise, so just enjoy the trip for now." Sarah sighed and reached behind the driver's seat to open the overnight bag she had put there. She rummaged blindly inside until she found the book she was looking for. After pushing the seat as far back as she could and reclining the seat back until she could barely see over the top of the dashboard, Sarah adjusted her glasses and opened the book. "Won't that make you carsick?" Nikki asked, glancing over at Sarah as she tried to find a comfortable position for her legs. "Relax mom." Sarah rolled her eyes. "I haven't been carsick since I was eight." Twenty minutes later, Sarah was hunched over next to the car, getting a second look at everything she had eaten since breakfast. Nikki walked around the car to hold her hair back. "Don't sa-" Sarah dry-heaved, her stomach completely empty. "Don't say 'I told you so'." "I won't sweetie," Nikki reassured her. Her face told a different story as she struggled to hide a smirk. Sarah steadied herself against the side of the car as she caught her breath. Nikki found Sarah's water bottle and handed it to her. She took a sip, rinsed her mouth and spat. "Feeling better?" Nikki asked. Sarah took another small sip and swallowed, grimacing as the cool water burned her throat. "I hate throwing up," she said. Sarah got back inside the car, taking care where she stepped. She brought the seat back up again and put the book away. When Nikki got back behind the wheel, Sarah rolled down the window, hoping that the cool air would help with the nausea. As they resumed their drive, Sarah kept her eyes on the road, trying to stare a hole in the centre line. Occasionally she would take small sips of water. "This suuuuuuuuucks," Sarah complained. "Being carsick? Yeah." Nikki drank the last of the coffee in her big travel mug and put it back in the cup holder. "Not just that. I'm hungry too, but I can't eat anything. And I made road sandwiches." "What do you mean 'road sandwiches'?" "You know: Cheese, ham, eggs, mustard, peppers... Pretty much anything that won't drip or make your fingers sticky." "OK, that makes sense. But why do I sense there's a 'but' coming?" Sarah smiled sheepishly. "I also made a couple of Nutella and salami sandwiches." "A couple of what?!?" Nikki momentarily swerved across the centre line in surprise as she turned to look at Sarah. "You heard me." "But, Nutella and salami?" Nikki made a face. "Don't knock it. I think it's the perfect food for long trips." Nikki just sighed and rolled her eyes. "I guess that explains your weird breath last Christmas after we went to visit your family." "I didn't eat any... sandwiches before that trip." Sarah looked at Nikki and waited for her to return the glance before wiggling her eyebrows. "Wha... Oh." A blush crept up Nikki's cheeks. Sarah sat back and smiled smugly, her nausea momentarily forgotten. "Yeah," she said. "'Oh' indeed. Mom's horseradish-and-bacon devilled eggs should only be eaten when you're alone." Nikki looked at Sarah while her brain processed what she just heard. "Oooooh, you're bad," she said and smacked Sarah's arm. Sarah only sniggered in reply. "Yeah, I'm a baaaaad girl. What're you gonna do about it?" "Oh, you'd think you'd learned not to ask that question." Nikki grinned toothily.

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