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The child was just like any normal 9 year old child, he was in 4th grade in which she loved to read and is very good at long division. He likes school and seeing her friends but likes the weekends at home too where she doesn't usually have homework. His/her favorite color is pastel green. He/she loves watching Netflix and has a secret love for watching tv show for very little children even if they are "baby shows". He/she's currently working on reading an old book his mommy gave her called "harry potter" but still gets caught up on some big words. He/She also has a bit of an entitlement issue with being seen as a big boy since he's only about as big as the first and second graders and only just stopped sucking his thumb at night a few weeks ago. (Our RP starts as the little boy is doing his homework in the living room with train playing on the TV, the door bell rings his mommy answers the door to see the babysitter she had called for the night. This babysitter was different though and has promised to get her little boy to relax and enjoy being a "little" kid more.... I will play the adult characters.

Just before 25-year-old programmer and chess IM (International Master) Isabelle drowns, she is pulled to the Diaper Dimension by the UN's Dimensional Rescue Group. Things don't quite go her way, but she has a powerful ally... Your Move Foreword Welcome to my first story. Ever since two of my favorite authors* introduced me to the Diaper Dimension, it's become one of my favorite genres, and I thought I'd give back to the community in the form of this work. If it were not for the legends before me, this story wouldn't exist, so I'm honored to write it. Many thanks go to BabySofia, YourDiapersCute and Acer for beta-testing it. Y'all helped me improve my writing and gave me motivation to write. Finally, PrincessPottyPants must also be acknowledged for INITing the sandbox. Please be advised that this story contains ABDL content. Even if this isn't your cup of tea, there's some interesting content I have to offer (but consider yourself warned). If you like chess, advanced tech or computers, then you're in for a treat! I currently have the first of 3 parts of the story completed (you'll want to read the updated version here:) I'm posting one chapter of Part 2 (well, what I've written anyway) every Wednesday here! I hope you'll enjoy this story, and please do comment your thoughts and suggestions! ©@DiaperedPrince2021-2022, all rights reserved. Please do not repost any part of this story to any other website, platform or medium, at any time, without my express written consent. :3 *@BabySofia and @YourDiapersCute Part 1: Opening "Attackers may sometimes regret bad moves, but it is much worse to forever regret an opportunity you allowed to pass you by." — Garry Kasparov Chapter 1 — What the Hell I never expected it to be like this. Frankly, I didn’t think I was even supposed to be in Hell. Even though I wasn’t the most devout Christian, I certainly was one. So shouldn’t I have gone to Heaven? Even if I take the secular interpretation, don’t only bad guys end up here? I’m pretty sure I’d been a good girl — most of the time anyway. Of course, human nature made being perfect all the time impossible, and I’ve certainly done my share of sinning. But… but… this?? I don’t think that anything I’d ever done had made me deserve this. Did some angel mess up? Or was it a bug in some kind of software? Did angels even use software to make these decisions? Leaving aside the ‘why’, shouldn’t Hell be all hot and fiery, and shouldn’t Satan be a guy? I pinched myself just to confirm I wasn't dreaming, and looked around the dilapidated, dirty room for the third time since I'd opened my eyes a minute ago. The 20-by-30-foot space was dimly lit by a small window almost opaque from dust and stains. The looming figure of the Devil, about twice my height, was clunking away in front of a stove, puffs of smoke coming out of her mouth rhythmically as she dragged on a cigarette. I wretched again at the malodorous pile of dirty dishes, pots and pans that sat in the sink next to her, unwashed, and the overflowing trash can beside it that contained a large mound of unidentifiable ooze whose composition I could only guess at. A lonely mattress, straight from a prison cell the way it was stained, filled the opposite corner of the room. All the furnishings, intimidatingly large to me, were clearly sized for her. What was most disturbing was a pile of reeking garbage bags that filled the last corner of the room, ending just inches from the mattress, and topped with a pair of flies buzzing around angrily. My disgusting panorama was interrupted by a noxious wave of cigarette smoke reaching me, making my head spin. I choked and coughed, nauseous and unable to breath. When the air had cleared somewhat a moment later, I drew a deep breath, inhaling the putrid stench of the space once again. Though it wasn't exactly hot, the room was bordering on that, and the air was unpleasantly humid and warm. A trickle of sweat meandered down my face. Whatever I was wearing was definitely much bulkier than necessary. I looked down at the lavender footed sleeper I was dressed in, certain that it wasn't what I'd put on the morning that I died. It was frayed but soft, and the cute design adorning the front had long faded. Somehow, whoever had re-dressed me for this place knew that I liked purple. I'd actually owned a very similar outfit before I died, but mine had been less... cute? The similarity stopped there, however, as I noticed the straps that connected the butt of the sleeper, just below the end of the long zipper, to the heels of the feet. They evidently fulfilled their purpose of preventing me from getting up onto my feet. Odder yet, my undergarments felt utterly foreign to me. I was flat-chested enough that I rarely wore a bra, so it didn't surprise me that I wasn't wearing one, but the pillow hugging my loins stuck out to me just as much as it spread my thighs apart. I felt the thick padding experimentally, confirming that it was some sort of ultra-thick diaper — a word that still made me blush as it stirred memories of my bedwetting fiascos as a child. Thanks to the heat caused by the pillow of a diaper, my nether regions were even warmer than my other body parts, but this discomfort was nothing compared to the ringing alarm bells that my bladder was sending to my brain, telling me to 'get to a toilet, now!' In desperation, I cleared my dry throat and spoke for the first time since I'd died, "I eed oo you a waoom." I blushed harder as I heard my own words, blatantly incoherent, and found the gag in my mouth. How on earth did I not notice this thing? I tried pulling it out and retrying my plea, and it suddenly expanded with a loud POP! My jaw felt like it was on fire as I cried out in pain! Satan turned around and I got to see her face for the first time. Her washed-out green eyes were partially covered by strands of her matted, unkempt, dirty blonde hair. She looked like she was about fifty-five, and the wrinkles on her face scrunched up into a frown so ugly that I shuddered. "Quiet, Christa!" She scolded in a crackling voice, turning back to whatever she was brewing. Who's Christa? I scanned the room once again quickly. There was definitely no one else here. Is Christa what they call Christians here? Does it mean— My bladder once again interrupted my thoughts with its tingling, and I tried to squeeze my legs together and press a hand between them to prolong peeing myself. The thickness of the diaper rendered both efforts futile, so I frantically searched for a toilet. I could see a weathered but imposingly tall door and a curtain on the opposing wall which was just as large. The paint on the door had peeled and the curtain's designs had most likely washed out years ago. Realizing that I had no other options since I couldn't even stand up, I whimpered as the floodgates opened and I wet myself. The Devil clearly didn't notice what had transpired, but I almost broke into tears as I pawed at the warm wetness between my legs, spreading its tendrils into the thirsty padding. I hadn't felt anything like this in years, and my memories of waking up in a cold, wet diaper as a little girl came flooding back. The pain in my jaw had dulled somewhat, but it still ached, and I rubbed it, choking back tears. In an attempt to distract myself from my distressing situation, I recalled the last moments of my life... "Mom, dad, are you guys ready to go?" I called out as I set the burglar alarm and locked the front door on my phone. "Yeah hon!" My dad shouted back from the car. I jogged over to the driver's seat, climbed in, and started the car. Putting on some nice classical music, I started driving to the annual regional chess tournament, where I was hoping to secure my third GM norm, which would promote me from an International Master to a Grandmaster, a title I'd spent the better half of my life trying to secure. 'GM Isabelle Green' would look perfect on my website, I noted to myself. As I drove down the winding road hugging the mountain, I marvelled at the lake on the other side of the road. Its crystal-clear waters perfectly reflected the blue summer sky, on which a family of ducks were making a wide V-shaped wake. As I rounded a bend in the road, a large semi truck suddenly bore down on me from the opposite direction! The driver must have been either drunk or crazy, because it was driving dead-center on the two-lane road! I heard my mom shriek as I swerved quickly to the right, narrowly avoiding a deadly head-on collision. Just as I thought the incident was over, the steering wheel was wrenched from my grasp! The three of us joined into a collective scream, as the crystal-clear water loomed closer and closer. It was almost like everything was in slow motion, like I was watching an action movie. It must have been only a second or two from my driving off the edge to the impact of the water, but it felt like hours! People say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, but my mind was totally blank as the car slid silently below the depths. The slight thud as the car hit the bottom of the lake jolted me to my senses, and I quickly looked behind me to check on my parents. They appeared to have either fainted or been knocked unconscious by the collision with the surface of the water. I undid my seatbelt, twisted around, and struggled to free them as well. Once I got their arms free from the seatbelt, I pulled out the headrest of my seat and used the pointed end to smash open my side window, knowing that the doors wouldn't open yet due to the pressure difference. However, I wasn't prepared for the ice-cold water that gushed through the window in torrents, smacking me in the face and sending me into a stupor. Surrounded by a frenzy of air bubbles, I let out a cry, muffled by the water pouring into my lungs, as I began to drown! *** "Pull her now!" Dr. Torelli yelled, determination and a hint of desperation evident in her voice. Not wasting a millisecond more, I hit F6 to run the extraction script and watched as the localized portal leveraged quantum entanglement to swap the girl with a proportionate amount of fluid in the transfer tank. The process had been perfected by the legendary Dr. Bremer's protégé, Wilhelm Münch. After undergoing field trials by private sector organizations like the Procurement Agency for Childlike Littles, it was now being used by the Dimensional Rescue Group of the United Nations' Interdimensional Commission to give people from the other dimension a life after their sudden deaths. Every second that I'd had to watch the livestream of the accident was pure torture, delivered in submillimeter-pixel holographic gory from the ceiling-mounted volumetric display projector. The feed showed the girl's vitals directly on her translucent body, which was stitched together in real-time by advanced AI. The data and imagery were being captured by nanobots in the other dimension using a mix of lidar, x-ray, and millimeter-wave imaging, since we were working underwater. Visible light at that depth would be blurry at best. We had a strict protocol to follow, so I was forced to wait until Dr. Torelli, the physician on the team, affirmed that the girl couldn't possibly survive without some sort of miracle (that we'd pull off) before executing the extraction. I breathed a sigh of relief as the tank's indicators showed that she was still alive. It was not the first time the team had done this, so as soon as the script finished and the indicator screen flashed a green 'GO', the medics breached the tank's seal and lifted the girl onto the waiting operating table with a calm and skillful preparedness. "DNA verification successful. Subject is twenty-five-year-old Isabelle Green, caucasian, height five-four, weight one-nineteen, pulse forty. Symptoms include water inhalation and cold shock." The extraction room's AI helpfully listed. I heard a hiss as one of the medics nasally delivered the nanites that would be used to clear the Little girl's lungs of fluid via an oxygen mask. Another medic quickly diapered her, not wanting a shock from the nanites to cause any more of a mess. I loaded a standard electrolysis program I had written for the nanites, wirelessly uploading it to them. "Clear! Activating!" When the holographic vitals floating above the operating table improved, everyone in the room visibly relaxed. I knew that nanites had yet again saved a life, electrolyzing the water in Isabelle's lungs into harmless oxygen and hydrogen gas. They had first formed a thin film around her alveoli, the parts of her lungs that oxygenated her blood, and then started the electrolysis process from there so that she could breathe. I shuddered as I remembered that the other dimension still stuck tubes into the lungs, often causing irreversible damage to the trachea and bronchi. A swarm of exothermic nanites spread throughout her bloodstream, warming up her body to prevent hypothermia and treat the cold shock she'd experienced from the icy lake. "Good work people! Let's send her to recovery." I congratulated the team as I let go of Isabelle's hand, which had gone from cold and clammy to a comfortable room temperature. They'd all done their jobs well, a quick glance at Isabelle's now strong and stable vitals confirmed. Inwardly, I regretted not being able to save her parents as well, but we had limited staffing, time and resources, so we couldn't save everyone. We always prioritized the young and healthy. And the girls. I shuddered at that last one. As a Canadian Dimensional Rescue Lead, I was proud of how well Littles were treated and how equal their rights were up here in Canada, at least when compared to other more bigotted countries. Little weren't granted anywhere close to equal rights in many other countries, like our southern neighbors the United States. Since the headquarters of UNIC were in the US and the majority of its directors were Acimeran, I knew just why the Little-owning Bigs down south had set those criteria in our guidelines. They were more adoptable. I looked over at Isabelle being wheeled out of the room. She was very cute. Very adoptable. "Thanks Mike, you know you're the best." Dr. Torelli patted my back. I nodded. I'd basically written the book on extractions. As one of the first DRLs, I'd helped set up the program and personally programmed a lot of the tech around me as a result. When you design the system, well, you tend to know everything inside out. "You're not so bad yourself, Doc." The rest of the team followed the medics out of the room, and I was about to go with them, but something stopped me in my tracks. I... couldn't help but feel a pang of... emotion. For Isabelle. What was it? Pity? Guilt? Love? Whatever this is, it isn't something I've felt before. I sat down at my workstation again. "Where's her destination?" I asked the room's AI on a whim. "Ollirama, Jacinto". I shuddered again. That was down in the deep south, one of the worst places that a Little could end up in. I made a note to check up on her situation in a few days, and got up to join the others in the break room. =========================================================== That's Chapter 1 folks! Hope you enjoyed reading it! Leave a like and a comment to make my day ?