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Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Supernatural elements Witchcraft and spirtualism Female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death (or the beyond), illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Depictions of non-consent and other forced actions of a sexual or other type of encounters This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! Welcome back. I know it’s only been a short time away, but I’m definitely excited for this story. I just fleshed out a lot more of it yesterday and today and I think I can weave a lot of fun into this one… which I guess is kind of the point with this story. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my last one and I’m glad I wrote it… but there was a lot of dark in there. Fun to write about sometimes, but it wears on the soul just a smidge after a while. Currently, the chapter count for this story stands at 16, so it’s also going to be a shorter one for sure as compared to my last few. I might flesh a few of them out, but with the way I designed it, it definitely won’t be the almost 30 that my last story was. Speaking of the future, as usual, the poll will be going up next chapter. Also, I’m going to still try and stick with my three chapters a week. This week will be a little off with another one like posted both Sunday and Monday (for a total of four). So, with that in mind, this story might only go until the end of November or the beginning of December. Some things are potentially on the horizon for me and could severely pinch my time though. If that happens, I’ll let you know, but this story should absolutely be completed before the end of the year. Thinking beyond that, I’ll talk more about that later when I know a few more details about my own life but expect there definitely to be a gap between this story and my next one. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: A Flickering and A Warmth The lights flicker all around. The air gets chilly and I pull up my fleece jacket to keep warm, my hands needing to stay still as I look into the dark hole before me. “Babe. Come on!” Frankie, my fiancé, pleads with me. “I’m freezing here! It’s March in Philly. I really shouldn’t be seeing my breath in my own house at this point. We live in the historic district sure, but… I don’t need that in my life at this point.” “Yeah, yeah… I hear you.” I switch on my flashlight to look inside the nook of the electrical panel, highlighting several spooky cobwebs in the process. “I think there’s some old and faulty wiring back here. Probably messing with the heating and the lights.” The lights above me flicker incessantly and I need to shake my flashlight periodically to keep it lit so I can actually see what I’m doing as I search for the problem and dust away the cobwebs. “You know… the whole historical thing you just had to have? Kind of a downside to it as well…” Frankie glares at me but then smiles in her typical scheming way that makes me go a little weak at the knees still. “Well… when we bought this place together, I thought I had a big strong handyman to fix all my needs. Guess I was wrong, huh? Shame too…” She pouts jokingly. I roll my eyes. “That’s not going to work on me… today,” I admit, knowing full-well how often her gorgeous and doe-like eyes have brought me low and turned me around on practically anything she wanted within reason. There’s a reason our bedroom has accent pillows… and that idea wasn’t from me. “No?” she questions slyly, slinking up to me while biting her lip. I feel myself giving way a little bit in light of her advance towards me. I know her scheme, but I also know that if she really wants, I’m just about powerless to stop her. “No…” I can already hear the little trepidation and breakdown of my former willpower in my voice. From her smile, Frankie hears it too. “Well… maybe you need some…” Her hands deftly trace over my body. “Incentive?” I nearly let out a little yelp as her graceful fingers send a shiver up my spine… definitely not helped by the colder temperatures inside. I shake my head though. “Yes… incentive.” I try to focus ahead, but Frankie doesn’t let up her little touches. “Frankie… I… I…” I think of spiders… zombies… pink bunnies… anything to keep me focused and off my fiancés increasing closeness and light but prominent touch over my body. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” she asks playfully, her knowing smile showing me just how much she knows this is affecting me and just how much she loves that. “Can’t concentrate?” I shake my head, trying desperately to focus on fixing the wiring. Finally, though, I find the problem. “Ah! Here it is!” I break free of Frankie and rush over to turn the power completely off. Everything goes dark and I hear a little creak from upstairs. “Babe!” Frankie calls out. “Warn me before you do that next time. You know how I am with this place in the dark!” I roll my eyes out of her sight, but she knows my feelings on why. “For the last time, Frankie… there’s no one else in this house. It just… creaks and groans is all. No boogeyman… no demons… no ghosts,” I note confidently coming back over to her to fix the wiring issue I found. She glares at me. “It’s a historical house, Liam,” she says, using my first name… never a good sign with her. “There are other things out there… more than from what we can see.” I shine the light and reach in with the circuit checker to ensure the power is actually off. “Right…” Frankie scoffs. “Well, fine. Be that way. But… you know Brandon and Carmen both agree with me as well,” she points out. “Both of them said they felt something in this place the last time they were here. And you heard the stories and…” I yank out the frayed wire with a grunt, cutting her off and sigh as I reach into my toolbox and pluck out another wire and the tools to reattach the circuit. “Okay… well, yeah. But Carmen thinks her vacuum cleaner is haunted and Brandon…” “Your college ‘brother from another mother?’ That one?” she questions, her annoyance over my disbelief and the fact that I always used to introduce him that way to her very clear now. I smirk and nod. “That’s right. But you know him…” I go in and reattach the wire, twisting the bits around and completing the circuit before backing out. “Ever since you and I introduced him to Carmen. Well… you know…” She doesn’t respond and I can’t tell if Frankie is playing dumb or she really doesn’t see it. Knowing her though, she’s probably just waiting for me to say it. So, I sigh. “He’s got a thing for her, babe.” Her knowing smile confirms my suspicions. “And that’s fine. He just… his opinion tends to agree with whatever she thinks.” Frankie’s smile fades and she sighs as well. “Yeah… I’ve seen that too. I just…” She shakes her head. “Never mind… just, are you going to give us power today… or do I need to start biking a turbine or something to turn on the TV instead?” I smile at her sarcasm and go back over to the electrical panel. “Alright… here we go!” I wince and flick on the main power switch. Humming to life, the house switches back on… this time without a flicker and an almost instant wave of heat from the vents. “Ah…” Frankie smiles like she does whenever she comes home and plops on the couch with a good book. “That’s more like it…” She luxuriates in the warmth for another moment and admires the flowers on the table she arranged for work before turning back towards me. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s much better. But…” She doesn’t have to say anymore, and I look at my watch. “Yeah… yep! Gotta change now to make our dinner reservation.” I nearly turn away to head upstairs to change but pause and then turn back towards Frankie. “Right?” I ask to confirm my guess. She chuckles a little at that before nodding her head. “That’s right. Can’t have you running around in that ratty old flannel to the best new pub in town!” She pauses for a second. “Oh! And while you’re up there, can you move the box of your old stuff from when you were a kid into the guest bedroom. You really need to sort that stuff out before it starts collecting dust!” I smile and nod with her request before heading up the stairs to change and now move the box. Before I’m completely out of view though, I turn back to look at my fiancé still at the bottom. “You know… it’s tough stuff from back then. Basically, my whole childhood. And it could be worth a mint someday, so…!” Looking back down the stairs that maybe she will budge on me getting rid of something, I just see an unamused Frankie with her hands on her hips and a skeptical look plastered all over her face. “Right… right. I got it. I’ll move it now and I promise to look through it tomorrow.” She says something else, this time with an amused smile, but this time it’s almost under her breath and by the time I see it, I’m more focused on getting ready. Knowing Frankie, finishing the task and then getting to the restaurant on time is more important than an acknowledgement of whatever she just said. Still, fifteen minutes later, I’m shaved, dressed, and I’ve made sure my hair is all nice and styled. Frankie appreciates those little details, and considering that tonight we’re going to be discussing wedding plans at dinner as well… I know she’s going to want to focus on them… rather than a potential missed spot when I was shaving. “Ready?” I ask, getting to the bottom step and seeing Frankie waiting by the door. She turns toward me and smiles wide. “Oh…” She gets a little flustered when I actually put effort into my appearance. She has her tricks and I have mine. “Yes! Yes. I…” She takes a breath and grabs the keys quickly. “Come on!” She barely turns back to see if I’m following her. ‘Oh, classic Frankie. Move onto the next thing to avoid the embarrassment of the now…’ I smirk and make sure to lock the door. Before I do though, I groan a little as I see another little flicker of the overhead light in the main hallway. I then also smell something sweet and oddly familiar, but something I can’t place either. ‘I wonder if Frankie’s using a new floral spray or something?’ For now, I decide not to ask Frankie it or tell her about the still fluctuating power… Ten minutes later, we’re heading out of the historical part of the city and the radio switches to a commercial I hadn’t heard before. “Scared? Intrigued? Just wanting to know more about the underground scene or what lurks beyond the covers and into the dark? Join us tonight to discuss this very matter. Releasing her book, ‘Understanding Your Kink,’ join Dr. Lauren Hutchinson and I tonight as we dive headfirst into...” I click the radio off and shake my head, being sure to pay attention to the street signs ahead for where we’re going. I then shift in my seat for a moment, trying to find the right spot to sit for the drive. “Geesh… almost feels weird to be driving, you know?” Frankie nods. “Yeah. Ever since we moved into the heart of the city, I can barely remember the last time I drove anywhere. Can walk to work and the grocery store…” “And Brandon and Carmen live so close…” I point out as well. “Seat kind of feels lumpy now.” I shift around uncomfortably as we cross the bridge to get on the main road up to where we need to go. “Probably just your imagination…” Frankie muses. “But babe… pay attention. You know this road can get a little tricky at these speeds at night.” I nod back and focus through my distance glasses for the exit I need to take. Most of the time I-76 is pretty choked with traffic, but tonight with the sun already set and a fog setting in, I think most people are avoiding it. “Pretty grim out here,” I note, keeping my eyes on the increasingly blurry road ahead. “Just pay attention and we’ll get there soon. It’s not too much farther north after the zoo,” she notes, her brain likely already calculating the exact moment we need to exit over to make our reservation on time. “But maybe turn on your high beams or something. I can barely see the road ahead or who’s in front of us…” I nod and look down for a second to flick them on. I find the switch, having to reach my hand under the wheel a little and then look up... Right at a swerving car. “Babe look out!” Frankie screams, quickly trying to shield her face from whatever might happen next as she peaks through her fingers in utter terror. Seeing the car at the last minute, I try to swerve as well to avoid the now out of control vehicle in front of us… but his speed and ours are too much. Horrifically, I can tell that it’s too late. We’re both going too fast on the curve of the road to avoid each other. He spins right into the front of my car… spinning us away and right into a nearby traffic sign, right side first. Glass shatters and metal bends and snaps. I feel the weight of the world shove against my side and the pain as my right arm slams into the middle console between the seats. Airbags deploy right on impact and quickly deflate as smoke and the fog settle around us and twist around my broken vehicle. The world bleary already, I look around with squinted eyes to survey the damage. I know I’m not supposed to after an accident, and it even hurts a little… but I turn to my right to see the one thing that really matters to me. “Frankie?” No answer except the faint sound of a little dripping. “Frankie!” I shout, a little more panic in my voice now… but still no answer… no movement. * * * The phone rings once… a second time… and even a third. I ignore it each time, laying out on my couch, the curtains drawn close and the house quiet except for the creak of the frame as the wind rattles it from the outside… the Fall season definitely approaching. The machine in the other room beeps. “Hey bro… it’s me, but I guess you probably already know that…” Brandon says with a sigh from his phone. “Listen… I know being roommates in college and all, a lot of the times that means being each other’s wingman or helping hide the booze our freshman year or celebrating a new job or whatever… but we’ve been through a lot together. Being my ‘brother from another mother’ and all… well, it also means that we’re here for each other in the tough times as well. Frankie… well, I know how much she means to you still. So, uh… yeah. Just give me a call, okay? Stay tough, bro.” The machine clicks off. I roll over on the couch and momentarily wince over my still sore wrist. I came away from the crash with a pin in my wrist still, and Frankie… I shake my head trying desperately to clear those thoughts. ‘No need to start crying again, Liam…’ I sigh and pick up the picture frame with the photo of Frankie in it I took almost a year ago now at a local Fall festival. She was so happy that day… we were so happy. Now… The phone rings once… a second time… and a third yet again. I still ignore it and let it go to the machine. ‘Come on, Brandon… Take the hint. You’re a friend… the best one I have, but… I just want to be left alone…’ I sigh and await the oncoming message trying to get me to leave the house once again… only it’s not from Brandon this time. The machine beeps. “Liam… pick up the phone. Pick up the phone.” There’s a heavy sigh at the other end of the line, and I can already hear the disappointment in Carmen’s voice. “I feel that you’re there and listening to me, Liam, but… please call me back no matter what. Just… whenever you get this and hear me out… please call me. It’s been six months since the funeral. I know you miss her so badly, but I miss her too. Our little flower shop… it just doesn’t feel the same without her by my side anymore…” I know full-well that they were very close before I came into the picture. She’s my friend as well, but she was always closer to Frankie like I was closer to Brandon than she was. I still thanked Carmen for the lasagnas she gave me after the funeral, but… since then, I just kind of want to forget everything… “Please call me, Liam. I… I miss you. I miss her! Just… please call me back. I’m worried about you. Brandon’s worried about you. We don’t even have to do anything fun if you don’t want to. Just see each other to talk, okay?” I hear her desperation, and I do feel a little bad for her. In one stupid accident on the road, she lost her business partner and closest friend… but I just can’t bring myself to move from my spot and answer her. “Alright, Liam. I understand. Just call me back when you can. Please…” The machine clicks off. I look deep into the photo of Frankie. She was so happy that day. I almost gave the photo to her parents when they came around to pick up some of her stuff. I gave them almost everything else I had of hers. It just didn’t feel right to keep it all. They were family… they were her parents. Now though, I just have the frame and a few of the things that I gave her and that her parents insisted on me keeping. Barely a whisper of memory now in this empty house… “Frankie…” I paw at the front of the photo and feel the tears come once again. I’m tired of tears, and I swear I would have run out by now… but my sadness just never seems to end whenever I think about her too much in one stretch. Lately though, that just feels like it’s all the time. But for Frankie, I keep pushing on. I still do my job. I still feed myself. Frankie would want that for me at least… but everything else? I just can’t find it in myself to celebrate. The last time I tried… really tried I mean… Fourth of July. Brandon and Carmen were supportive that night, but I just couldn’t move on without thinking of Frankie. How she loved the bar we all went to. How her hand felt in mine when we watched the fireworks the year before. Or the smell of hotdogs… something she always gagged at before guzzling down two in a second. All her little quirks and things that made her who she was… who I still love, even the boom and sparkle of the fireworks overhead couldn’t distract me enough from that… I sigh at those little odd and yet wonderful memories and look back at her photo. “I miss you Frankie… if only I could see you… one last time… I… I could really use someone to talk to like you. Someone with an open mind and who won’t judge me and…” Suddenly, what feels like an electric shock runs through my body. My hair stands up on my neck, and I almost get the sensation like I’m being lifted off the couch for a second before I feel an incredible warmth envelops me. Not hot like a sunny day at the beach, but like the rays of sunlight that filter through your window on a Sunday afternoon or a snuggly blanket. I can’t help but smile and lower the picture frame still in my hand for a second. ‘Oh… maybe it’s a sign from the universe or…’ Raising my head, right in front of me is a translucent blue figure… and there’s just no other word for it: a ghost. “Holy…!” I bolt up and clutch the picture in front of me like a shield against an evil monster. ‘But it can’t be a ghost, right? Ghosts aren’t real… are they?’ I chatter at the floating figure seemingly staring back at me. I should be running for the hills or the police… but I stay stuck to my seat, trying to breathe normally in the presence of this figure. I half expect it to turn into some rotting corpse or to shout ‘Boo!’. Instead of any of that or turning into some ghoul or trying to scream and frighten me away though, the pale and see-through figure only hovers before me for a moment like a leaf on the wind. Oddly, once my mind calms down enough for rational though, beyond my initial shock, I realize now that I only feel peace. I should be terrified of this thing… this spirit now hovering in front of me. It shouldn’t exist and if it should, then I should be running for my life or to call the ghostbusters or for an exorcist on the spot without any delay… but I don’t do any of that. The figure, mostly just an outline and rough shapes of a body, then reaches out towards me. As I look down, I see the spectral hand come close to the picture I’m clutching. “Wait… is there something you want from me? Maybe a message from Frankie… or maybe you’re Frankie herself?” I ask, almost as a joke, referring to the photo in the frame. To my surprise, the spectral figure bobs along… almost as if nodding. Intrigued about this sudden turn, everything in my head that I previously thought… all my denial and skepticism, suddenly seems so foolish in the midst of this literal proof of life beyond death. As I look ahead at the ghostly presence, the doubt I once had of the beyond quickly vanishes in a flash. ‘If I’m to believe in ghosts… then… could this… I mean, could this really be Frankie? They nodded when I said her name. So… is it…? Could it really be my Frankie?’ The thought feels like a fool’s hope… but I haven’t had a scrap of any kind of hope since I last saw Frankie in the car that one fateful night, and even this little bit right now is enough to drive butterflies into my belly in a feeling I needed lately. So, shakily, and admittedly hoping beyond measure, I stand up and reach out to the figure. “F… Frankie… is that you?” Just as I’m about to make contact with the entity who just seemingly nodded at the picture of my dead fiancé, they vanish. “No!” I try to reach out, as if I could cling tight to them and hold them close once again forever… but they’re gone completely before I can even twirl a figure around any part of their being. Seconds later, the warm feeling I had vanishes as well. “Frankie…” My fool’s hope sits sourly in my stomach for a moment. The potential of seeing and holding my fiancé again… just to see my Frankie again, just feels like too much… But I then I realize one critical thing and I nearly jump at the notion. “Holy shit! They vanished, but… ghosts! Ghosts exist! Frankie was here! Right here! I… I…” I feel lightheaded from the mere possibilities of what I just witnessed. A ghost! I just saw a real life ghost! ‘This could change everything about what we know and who we are and what lies beyond and…!’ My mind reels with the possibilities of the single but hugely impactful moment I was just apart of. I nearly hop up and down and do a little dance at the very notion. But as I look around my room at the heaps of junk and dust and liquor bottles piled in the sink, I realize a critical fact: if I’m going to be telling anyone about this, I might not be the most reliable resource at the moment. Doubt begins to snake around my mind wickedly. It’s a negative quality that Frankie always tried to help me with. In this case though, it only makes me more cautious at telling anyone… at least until I clean my place up a little bit and confirm that what I saw wasn’t just some figment of my imagination. And so, in a single moment of clarity, my eyes dash to my phone to exercise that caution. Running over, I pick it up and think of the first person to get over here and check if I’ve lost my marbles or not. “Carmen? Yes, yes. Listen… can you come over?” “Liam? Is that you? I…” She pauses. “You know I can come over but… does it really need to be now? Today?” I look back at the spot where I just saw the spectral form of Frankie… or at least I hope I did and then over to the clock, fully realizing the lateness of my call. A little more doubt fills me up, but remembering back to what I just witnessed, I steel my guts and stick to my request from my friend. “Yes, Carmen… today.” Two hours later, I hear the knock at my door that my heart has been beating for since I last laid down my phone and invited Brandon over as well, the group skeptic seemingly a good choice to evaluate what happened to me. Gathering my strength, shaving, cleaning, and just zoning myself in, everything is ready. As I open the door, I just hope I don’t make a complete fool of myself. “Hey you two!” I greet my two friends cheerily. “Hey… bud,” Brandon says nervously as he enters the house first, quickly looking around as if I’m about to prank or murder him on the spot. “Hey… Liam,” Carmen says, looking just as concerned as Brandon still is. “I was kind of surprised to get your message.” She steps in but in typical Carmen fashion, nearly snaps back to me as I close the door. “Pleasantly surprised that is! I just…” She pauses and looks around the house as well… almost like a parent visiting their kid and making sure that everything is okay. “Well… you weren’t answering either of our messages and… well, we were… are kind of worried about you…” I wince a little at the worry I know I caused them. “Yeah… sorry about that. I just… well, you know…” “Yeah, man,” Brandon says quickly wrapping his arm around me. “We do. Which is why we want to take you out drinking tonight. Our treat, okay? Get out of this place and maybe clear your hea…” “Okay, okay. I accept!” I say exasperatedly. A drink actually does sound pretty nice, especially after what I just saw today… but I need to show my friends about it first. I need to make sure that my brain isn’t going completely nuts or whatever. Either way… a drink would be good if I was, or if I really did see what I saw… a drink is definitely going to be needed. “We can absolutely do that,” I confirm before taking a breath, “but I need you all to see something first. Or not!” I wince and shrink back a little, guiding them into the family room where I saw the ghost of Frankie before. “I… well…” I hate how badly I’m stumbling at my words, but I know I just need to push through my nerves and just get it out there. “I think I saw Frankie’s ghost!” There’s dead silence for a moment as both my friends just stare at me with a mixed look of confusion and concern. I sigh. “Yeah, yeah… look, I know how it sounds…” Carmen winces and seems to be trying to go for a diplomatic approach to her words. “I mean… what do you… mean by that? To be honest, Liam, it kind of sounds like you’re…” “Like you’re nuts!” Brandon finishes for her, much to her angry glare afterward. “I’m sorry to say that and I know losing Frankie hit hard. She was a real keeper, man, but… she died, Liam. And…” “And there’s things we don’t understand out there in the world…” Carmen pops back in, “But this… this is…” “I get it, okay?” I admit with a sigh. “Just… I saw something earlier today, so will you two just indulge me this once?” I still see both of their concerns. It’s nice to know I have them in my corner and to see their concern for me… but I need to be sure about this and for them to have a little patience. “Okay, fine… if nothing happens after five minutes, take me for a drink and get me to forget this ever happened, okay? We’ll simply chalk it up to stress or something. Sound good?” Both nod and I take my place on the couch right where I was, before I begin to murmur out a single word. “Frankie… Frankie…” Five minutes later and we’re still nowhere. I thought I felt warmth about three minutes ago now, but it seems like it might have just been a faint breeze filtering in from the vents after Carmen moved to sit down as well. “Dang it!” I slap my lap and hop up. “Liam…” I hear Carmen’s concern, but I just focus on the spot where I saw Frankie’s ghost. “That’s five minutes, man…” Brandon notes somberly, almost as if he was really hoping for my sake that Frankie’s ghost would have shown up. “I just… I don’t understand!” I sigh and it takes everything in me not to spit on the ground or punch a pillow or just yell in pure frustration. “I was sitting right here!” I plop back down on the couch. “And I took her picture frame, and I was holding it and wishing she would be back here.” I try to move the picture frame up, down, left, right… but still nothing. “Liam…” Carmen steps a little closer, her eyes full of worry about me. “Maybe you just wanted to see something. I mean, I’m the first in for this type of thing, but… maybe you just need some sleep… Wouldn’t be such a bad idea, right?” “Yeah, man,” Brandon agrees. “Maybe you just head to bed. We can drink together another night. Tonight…” I shake my head. “No, no! I just… one more minute, please!” I look back down at the object in my hands. “I was holding this frame and then… poof! She was here!” I clutch the frame closely and shut my eyes about as tight as they can go. “Come on Frankie. Come on!” I bite down and focus on the floor before squeezing my eyes, starting to rock back and forth with her picture clutched against my chest. “Please… please… I need you… I need you…” Suddenly, I feel the warmth I felt earlier surrounding me once more. It fills me up to my fingertips, a longing and a comfort I haven’t felt since Frankie last hugged me or when I last saw her ghost. It’s pleasant in a way that I didn’t realize how much I missed it, and I sigh in contentment now that I feel it again. I don’t even need to look up to see what’s transpiring. “What the…?” Brandon stumbles back and clutches the couch at the reappeared spectral figure in front of us now. “Aye!” Carmen plummets to her knees and begins praying. “San Miguel Arcángel, defiéndenos en la lucha. Sé nuestro amparo contra la perversidad y acechanzas del demonio. Reprímale, Dios…” “I told you!” I get up and reach out to the pale blue form in front of me. This time though, the figures’ hands are able to touch mine like one would stick their fingers through a sunbeam. The feeling of warmth intensifies all around, and I feel like electricity is passing through me. “It’s her! It’s got to be her!” “It… it can’t be!” Brandon, the usual skeptic of the group, except when Carmen’s involved with an opinion that is, seems to be struggling just to stay upright in the ghost’s presence. I slap him on the shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you? It’s her! It’s Frankie!” By now, Carmen has finished her prayer, and while she looks like a stiff breeze could knock her over as she stands up warily, she still seems mostly overjoyed to see the ghost. Only a second later though, she lights up. “Oh! It is! It is her! Look!” Her finger points to the figures’ head. “It has her hair. Her nose!” Sure enough, as I look closer at the spectral form, I begin to see all kinds of details I hadn’t before. The image beyond the blue sheen of the mist surrounding it is still hard to fully make out, but beyond all that, there’s a face. There’s hair and clothing. I strain to see more and I step forward. But the figure fades… almost as if a huge weight was just placed on her back. In seconds, she’s gone. “Frankie!” I shout out, once again trying to hold her hand to keep her in the room with us… but it’s no use. Moments later, even the warm feeling is gone yet again. “Dang it! That’s the second time today! Why won’t she just stay?” “But… but… it can’t be!” Brandon stumbles out. “But it is!” Carmen counters. “It was her. I…” She turns to me, her face full of wonder and regret. “I’m so sorry I doubted you, Liam. That… that was her! A ghost! I can’t believe it!” “Yeah… I mean… holy shit, dude!” Brandon says, his usual demeanor seeming to come back a little more now. “I mean… that was her. Had to be! Ghostbusters, poltergeist, voodoo, hocus pocus, haunted mansion level stuff right here! And… damn it!” He looks around for a second. “No camera!” I smile at his usual antics but then I turn to Carmen, the one who normally believes whole-heartedly in this kind of thing. “Frankie always said you believed in this stuff. I’m… I’m kind of out of my depth right now. I mean… what just happened?” Carmen winces. “Well… I actually don’t know. Belief is one thing, but this? This is proof that we all saw. This… this doesn’t just happen every day, Liam. I mean… I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin… at least properly.” “So, we’re screwed and just limited to these short little interactions forever then?” I ask, my hope seemingly deflating a little on the spot. To my relief though, Carmen shakes her head, her braided black and blonde streaked ponytail flipping about behind her. “I don’t think so. Remember, I said ‘properly.’ Spirits, from what I’ve ever read about at least, are energy or something like it. I’m not an expert or anything, but I think it takes an effort for them to stay here… at least without a conduit.” “Conduit?” Brandon asks, a little skeptical but definitely intrigued as well. “Yes,” Carmen confirms. “We need a medium or psychic… someone like that. They channel the energy, and you see the ghost… feel their presence more intently through them. In a way, they almost act like a telephone or a lightning road. Again… just from what I’ve only read about before.” I catch on to what she’s trying to imply… or at least I think I do. “Wait… you’re talking about a séance, aren’t you?” Carmen smiles and nods. “That’s right! That’s one of them, and…” She pauses and hesitates for a moment. “Uh, I guess if we’re putting all our cards on the table… I tried to do one for Frankie already.” “Wait… you did?” Brandon asks, sympathy and shock laced deeply in his voice. Carmen sighs. “I did. Spring hit and I saw all the flowers… reminded me too much of Frankie. I was desperate and sad and…” She shakes her head again. “So, I reached out to someone I heard about mainly from one of my friends way deeper into this sort of thing. She actually came into the shop a few times before, but Frankie always dealt with her orders…” “And…?” I press, hoping there’s more to the story. “And we couldn’t make contact,” she notes with a sigh as she then fishes in her purse for something. “She gave the session to me for free. Said Frankie might have moved on, or that I just didn’t have the connection required to make contact. Since it came to nothing, I didn’t want to bring it up… well, until now, that is.” Pulling a single white rectangular object from her purse, she looks at me intently before sighing once more. “Now… well, I guess you have that connection I seemed to be missing though…” I look at the card in her hand skeptically for a second. “I don’t know… Maybe I’m just…” “Hey man… maybe take a leap of faith here,” Brandon shockingly suggests, breaking me from my own self-criticism. “You’re always about the proof of things. And well, I don’t think you’re going to get more on your own ever than whatever we just saw here.” Carmen nods. “And… well, not to be selfish, but… do this for me as well… do it for Frankie.” Not even blinking then she then hands over the card she plucked from her purse. “Please just try, for us, okay?” I nod, realizing that this situation isn’t just about me anymore and take the card from Carmen. “Okay… for you… for Frankie…” The next day, I look back at the card and then up at the sign on the old brick building in front of me. Not even that far away from where I live, ‘Madame Gwendolyn’s Shop of Curiosities’ stands out only slightly on the lively block of Philadelphia. I think Frankie came over here once to get an anniversary gift for me, and if I remember correctly from back then, it was definitely a nice night… but personally, I don’t come down here that often. Brandon and Carmen both wanted to come with me today, but I told them that I needed to do this first step myself. I felt compelled to venture this solo today… I needed to see all this for myself… maybe to check if I was nuts or that we all are. The typical skeptic and the believer are good to have by my side most days… but not in this one case. I needed this lady, real psychic or medium or whatever or not, to just see me. But as I look ahead, to my surprise, the shop seems nice enough. There’s some odd symbols I don’t recognize, and a sign that mentions ‘FCC and MC Welcome Inside,’ which seems a little strange to me… but I just push on inside, a little bell ringing as I do so. Almost immediately, before any other object displayed around the store catches my eye, I see a tall, dark-haired, and admittedly beautiful woman behind the counter. As soon as I step inside fully, she smiles at me and waves. “Evening, darling. What can I do for you?”

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! I just want to say welcome back and that I am looking forward to completing this story. Pretty much as soon as I wrote the previous story, How an Elephant Saved Their Little, I came up with most of this plot. I will attempt to explain certain elements, but I expect that some background elements may be rushed or explained later, which could be confusing for some of you newer readers. Also, as it will be following a Big, some elements might be a little different than other DD stories, but if what I’ve seen on here is anything to go by, I think you all should enjoy a lot of the elements involved. Moving on, I’ve been watching the Olympics lately. Considering all that is happening in Paris right now, with my excitement in watching, there is a part of me that feels I should have at least included my DD Olympic story in the last poll. Still, I am still happy with writing this story and I have yet another idea for a story. As a future note though, I will probably include the original Olympic story in the long future (2026 at the earliest I’m guessing) at this point, but I’ll have plenty of stories until then as long as you all keep reading them. Next, speaking of the future, I will be trying an online poll for the voting of my next story. If I’ve set it up correctly, there should only be one vote per IP address. I will likely shut down the poll or delete it entirely once I have posted the results in the final chapter of this story as usual, but until then, I’m using this as a bit of a test going forward. It should be completely anonymous, so I think that will help garner more votes than before. Expect this to be included with the second chapter, which should be posted tomorrow or the day after. Also, as a bit of a side note here, I might be retconning something, but I don’t think I am in saying that the location for this story is in their version of Indianapolis. I have looked through all my notes, and due to my inclusion of ‘Queens Island’ in my previous story, I know it’s at least in that general area (being a few hours car drive away as mentioned in chapter 13), but I can’t seem to find an actual city name. I will fully admit that I wasn’t as organized back then with the locations in Libertalia, so it could be an oversight… like how I don’t mention a location in The CON series and retconned why later. I will investigate this much more thoroughly after my upcoming trip, but I just wanted to at least put that out there in case someone caught something that I haven’t at this point. Last but not least, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this next story! Chapter 1: Sheets Bearing Marks of the Past Mildred and I were helping our precious Littles with their own bags to go to daycare tomorrow. The day would come early and between diaper changes, getting each of them dressed, and then out the door and into our van to take them to daycare, it would be enough of a challenge. At the task’s base, it was like wrestling with twitchy cute puppies. As a carer of the Littles under my charge, I performed my duties and remarked upon their cuteness, but that didn’t make the tasks any easier. Further, though, I had two other factors that kept my Littles more challenging than was usual in most cities of Libertalia. First, most had been regressed recently and were still coping with their losses from who they used to be. It’s hard to blame a Little for being upset of pooping helplessly in their diapers now when they might have once commanded a fleet of ships or walked down the runway in a gorgeous dress. Second, and more important to Safehouse 81 though, nearly every Little under my charge had been affected by some tragedy or had faced an abuse of some kind in their past. After all, being a safehouse for Littles in this type of society, we had to expect those sorts of residents under our roof. It was tragic, but we made sure each of our Littles were kept safe, were healthy, and knew they were cared for at the end of the day. Mildred and Penelope helped me out with them about as much as they could. Admittedly, of the two full-time employees here, Mildred helped to a lesser degree due to her Middle size, but Penelope more than made up for that and was essentially my second in command around here. She had already lightened my burdens recently by forming an attachment with Willy, a recently arrived Little who was escaping troubles of his own. Traumatized from his past and with only a stuffed animal, Tusk, to help ease his mind, I was glad he was feeling that relief here now at least. “Mildred,” I addressed to my shorter assistant currently stuffing Gina’s backpack, “make sure that she gets the ham sandwich without the crusts. She’s still particular about those kinds of things and the last thing we need to put on the daycare now is another tantrum from her if she... changes again like she did last week.” “Right, right. Definitely don’t want that,” she nodded back to me. “And the veggie chips instead of the nacho cheese ones, right?” I nodded and smiled over her increased awareness over the individual needs of the Littles under our care. She was still a prospective member of the staff, but her instincts were strong, and she had a good heart. Gina was spacing out again, experiencing one of her changes, a sad reminder of her own regression process, so now it was mostly up to Mildred to finish packing her bag and I was glad that she was taking to her tasks so well now. For the multiple backpacks I was packing, I finally looked down at Harry, continually perched and curious at the edge of the table where I was working. “Okay, champ… carrots or cucumbers tomorrow?” I wanted to give my Littles as many options in life as I could. Daily items or events like diapers and naptimes were non-negotiable under my roof if I deemed them necessary, but where was possible, I tried to give where I could. “Ummm… cawwots, pwease.” I smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. I was trying to instill manners in him after he came here over a month ago now. It had taken a lot of my patience, but coming from a Little smuggling operation, I couldn’t blame him for being a little blunt and rough around the edges. Still, he was making quick progress lately and I made a mental note to give him an extra cracker tomorrow when he got home from daycare if he wanted it. “Very good, Harry.” I turned over to Gina and wondered how the other Littles were doing upstairs. They were more regressed, but I still wanted to give them their options for tomorrow at daycare while they were likely still awake and playing with their babyish toys. Still, it was getting late, so I tapped Gina on the shoulder to try and get her out of her mental fog. “Gina? You in there, sweetie?” Gina turned around and grinned at me, her curly blonde hair twirling about as she did so, and her few missing teeth becoming rapidly apparent. She had been pulled out of the regression facility before they could truly deform her like her abusive original caregivers wanted, but the facility’s marks and effects on her mentality were still painfully obvious, especially when she was in this state. “Gina… do you wanna pick out the story tonight before bed?” I questioned further, now that I had her attention as best I could. Gina rapidly nodded her head up and down. “Uh huh! Maybe da pwincess one?” Her enthusiasm was near electric and contagious, but it still burdened my heart to see her like this. Working with her here and at the daycare, her incidents like these had dropped significantly, but it still hurt to witness when they did pop up. When she wasn’t in this regressed near-fugue state, her speech was unaffected and she held herself in an almost dignified way… or at least as dignified one could get while always holding her stuffed Octopus, Mindy. I had learned long ago to never try and remove Mindy from her arms. In a way, it just added to the tragedy of her story, a sadly familiar one that I had grown accustomed to over the years. Regardless, I was glad she had at least made a choice tonight. It would make her happy and that was my job here. Keep my Littles safe and happy. “Very good. I’ll make sure we read the one with Princess Lavendar tonight. I think she’s going to meet the gnome king and become the best of friends with him. Doesn’t that sound fu…?” The windows burst inward as two small black and shimmery objects were launched through them. Glass shattered and covered the floor. I immediately tried to grab Harry, Gina, and Mildred, but I was too late. The two blasts rocketed the whole house. More glass fell and I became dazed as men in black soon breached the house with a tremendous smash of my front door. The filed in one at a time and surrounded everyone as they knocked over furniture to clear their path. A single cabinet had fallen and partially blocked their way to the back kitchen though. Still, they then wasted no time and began hauling everyone together, upstairs and down. Even through my daze, I could see that one of them, likely the leader from the directions he issued out, had a very distinct snake tattoo crawling up one of their arms. I wanted to fight back, but I just felt nauseous, and my head felt like it was about to pop. Then, before I knew what hit me, that same tattooed man was pulling me to my feet. “You. We’re looking for this Little.” He shoved a picture in my face. It was a little blurry, but I quickly recognized it as snapshot of Willy with his stuffy. When I didn’t answer immediately, he shook the picture harder in front of my face and snarled at me. “We know he’s here from your database registration. Where is he?” Willy was new here, but he was now one of mine. I had made an oath to every one of my Littles and to the state that no matter what, I would protect these innocent smaller beings with my life. Being the leader of a safehouse often meant staring down the long barrel of threats from those who wished to do the residents here any harm. Such was the prejudice and malice of our world. Today however, was the first time a safehouse had been smashed into. Considering the high number of penalties against these men if they were ever caught, that wasn’t surprising, but regardless, my task remained the same. Keep my Littles safe. So, taking a deep breath and easing my nerves and getting ready for what was likely to come against me consequently, I straightened up, and looked at the man with the snake tattoo with about as much defiance as I could. “Those records are sealed. Only an admin or cop can access those, but anyway, the Little doesn’t look familiar.” My head lashed out at me, and the lights all seemed about 80% too bright from some reason, but I knew I had to keep up my defiance. Smashing the safehouse’s front window like that had set off a silent alarm. Help was on its way, but I still needed to play for more time now. “Hard to recall with the pounding in my head. You wouldn’t have done something naughty like that to a bunch of innocent Littles, would you?” I couldn’t help but taunt these men. If caught, I knew their punishments would be far worse than anything they could do to me. I had a few friends in the justice department, and I heard the rumors like everyone else. Dark Cliff Prison was a hole that every lost cause Little and every substantial criminal Big feared and never wanted to go to. For criminals like these, breaking into a safehouse was a one-way ticket right to their front door. Instead of pure rage as I had suspected though, the tattooed man gritted his teeth, groaned ever so slightly, and defiantly forced the picture in front of my face again. “I won’t ask you again. Where is he?” Before I could deny him again, I thought I heard a small groan coming from the kitchen. Not seeing either in the lineup of the resto f the safehouse in front of me, Willy and Penelope were in there still, and considering this tattooed man wanted him, likely dead or alive, I knew I only had one choice. So, hoping to press for more time and just hating the man on general principle, I looked back defiantly at the intruder to my house. “Screw you.” My words were direct and uncompromising. I had no intention of telling him where Willy was. With any luck, Willy would flee out the back. He was a Little, and that could be problematic, but he seemed to have some sort of strange luck or guardian angel on his side whenever trouble seemed to find him. Whatever the case truly was though, I just hoped they were with him tonight. The tattooed man didn’t take kindly to my blunt refusal of his question though and my insult of him after either. All at once, with one strike, his fist slammed into the side of my face. I fell to the ground. As I collapsed, Harry, Gina, and a few of the other Littles they were now gathering around me downstairs shrieked in terror. “Get the brats upstairs now!” the tattooed man commanded his men. “Lock ‘em in and hit ‘em with the smoke.” Four of his six goons nodded and at gunpoint, forced all my terrified Littles upstairs along with Mildred. They still weren’t looking in the kitchen, so I at least knew that Penelope or Willy was okay and moving around to escape. While the main tattooed man watched over me, his gun pointed right at my head as I managed to perch myself back on my knees, I began to try and figure a way out of this. Moments later though, even after thinking of a half dozen or so escape plans, my mind just couldn’t think straight, as I could hear the bang of a door and then a faint hiss coming from upstairs. A few tiny screams were soon muffled silent. Soon after, the men came back downstairs, alone. “Is it done?” the tattooed man asked insistently. “Yes, sir!” one of them answered quickly. “The Littles are locked away and the gas has been deployed. In such a confined space, they’re all out and memories of tonight will only be foggy at best.” “Good.” Seemingly satisfied that the majority of the house had been neutralized, the tattooed man then turned his attention back to me. “Now, your little ones are all upstairs and unconscious for the moment. Helpless,” he emphasized as he stroked the large knife on his belt. “Tell me where the Little known as Willy Galpin is, or things might just get nasty.” I panicked as I began to see the other goons begin searching the other floors and the rest of this one. Due to the elongated nature of the house and the debris left from the two grenade explosions previously, more furniture had been knocked over. It meant more obstacles for them and places to hide in general, and therefore the more time it took for the goons to search everywhere and reach the back kitchen. That being said, I knew it was only a matter of time before they did. Then, as if to answer my question about Penelope or Willy, I saw a speck of movement in the back kitchen. It wasn’t much, but I knew at least one of them were still here and actively moving about. If it was Willy, I was relying on his Little and likely scared nature to flee without question. If it was Penelope, I knew she would want to help me, being the good and loyal worker that she was in the safehouse, but I had instructed anyone who worked for me that the safety of the Littles was always a top priority. Knowing her, she wouldn’t defy that directive and Willy would be safe then as well. “Might still be upstairs… fifth floor,” I told the tattooed man with a sigh and look of defeat on my face. I was acting about as best I could, my right cheek already swelling from where the man had hit me. It was an outright lie, but again, I just hoped it would be enough of a delaying tactic for Willy or Penelope and Willy to escape. To my chagrin, just as the other goons went upstairs to fully check the house based on my suggestion, a near deafening squeak went off in the room. It came from nearby, and I had no idea what would have made that sound, except for one of the toys, but it didn’t matter. The goons practically rocketed back down the stairs and the one goon searching the dining room, about to move to the kitchen, ran to the noise as well. Curiously enough, I saw the backdoor pivot ever so slightly. Whoever I had seen move back there before, was now clearly on the move and likely gone from the house. I couldn’t help but smile in relief. “There’s nothing here, boss!” One of the goons reached down at picked up Eddy, Harry’s stuffed chimp. “Just this old, stupid stuffed animal.” The tattooed man groaned and only pointed for another goon to point their gun at me. Without a single word, he stalked over to the stuffed chimp, snatched him away, gripped the stuffy tight, and with fixed and deep fingers on its throat, snarled and tossed Eddy across the room. “You idiots! Go find Willy now! Move!” Everyone started to depart, but just as I felt that Willy would be safe, the tattooed man looked back toward the kitchen and saw the backdoor swinging slightly in the night breeze. “Wait!” Every single goon still within earshot stopped at once. “Did any of you morons check the back?” It was immediately evident that they hadn’t. The tattooed man groaned again and ran to the kitchen. “For the love of…! There’s a whole other Big back here and…” From the passageway to the back, I could just make out as his eyes darted all around. “You!” He quickly pointed to the clearly younger goon who had been tasked to search the first floor. Reluctantly, he jogged over. “Yes, boss?” The tattooed man picked up a bagged lunch and held it in front of the younger goon. “How the hell did you miss this?” The younger goon could only stare back at the tattooed man, clearly terrified, and unable to make a sound to save himself. “Someone was back here making their lunch for tomorrow.” One hand grabbed the younger goon and his other hand pointed sternly to the figure on the floor I knew was definitely Penelope with the more cleared debris between us now. “Here’s the Big… now where is the Little who belongs to this bagged lunch?” Before he had a chance to speak, another goon came from his previous searching of the upstairs. “Sir! There’s no one else up here! Fifth floor or otherwise!” The tattooed man shoved the younger goon backward. “You all!” he directed to his other goons, totaling about five, including the one who had just come back downstairs. “Find the Little. He can’t have gone far! You all better not fail me!” “Yes, sir!” the chorus of them rang out, saluting right before they dashed out the back entrance to find Willy. I hoped he could avoid them well enough, but I didn’t have much time to hope. With the other goons gone, Penelope very much unconscious, and the other members of my staff and the Littles being locked and apparently knocked out upstairs, I was essentially all alone. Before I could think a single further thought, the tattooed man growled and raced over to me. His eyes seemed hand picked from the bowels of the fiery core of the planet and as he picked me up, I felt completely helpless under his sheer power. The snake wrapping around his arm bulged with ease as I was nearly catapulted into a wall above his head. My feet dangled powerlessly off the floor. “Thought you could play a little trick on us, huh?” he barked at me. I didn’t say anything, and with a huff, the man tossed me back on the floor. “Stupid Big! You’re a traitor to your own kind!” He then spit on me and walked around me like a lion getting ready for their kill of the antelope. I swallowed as best I could in fear. I had delayed Willy enough that he had escaped. I just hoped it would be enough. For him, it might have been, but for the tattooed man, it was likely the worst-case scenario. With him still panting and grunting as he circled me, I didn’t make a sound, which seemed to only upset him more. In seconds after about his fifth rotation, he lunged in at me. That’s when the punches started to rain down on me. One after another. His relentless fury had been unleashed and I could feel the weight of his failure in capturing Willy outright as each fist slammed into my body. He didn’t even seem to care where he hit though, smashing nearly every square inch of my body. Even as blood squirted from my mouth and one of the open cuts now on my forehead over his black uniform, he didn’t care. In fact, as I began to turn into a bloody pulp, I could see a smile grow over his face. I felt a blackness begin to creep in. I felt like death had come for me. It wasn’t how I wanted to go out, but I had helped as many Littles as I could. I suppose there were worst ways… Just as I felt seconds away from the end though, the tattooed man suddenly stopped. Relief surged through my body. Only hearing about the beating of my own heart in my ears, I wasn’t sure if the cops had finally showed up. I felt they were much slower than they should have been, but regardless, I wasn’t being hit anymore. Unfortunately, my fear didn’t abate. Instead of purely stopping and running away from the cops though as I had hoped, the tattooed man, fists bloody and smeared in my blood, smiled. It sent chills down my back, and despite my pain, I could think of nothing else over the verry meaning of that cruel vindictive and playful smirk. If a cat could grin as it was about to swallow the canary whole, I imagine what I saw before me would have been exactly that. “Bring me the shot…” He said it with such finality to the younger goon. It was just ‘the shot.’ Nothing more. Like a serial killer everyone should fear and know about, it was so simple and yet so terrifying. But I could see the fear through the eyeholes of the mask the younger goon wore. His hands even trembled as he nodded and went to a case I had just noticed nearby. Producing a single shot with some kind of silvery substance, the tattooed man took it gleefully. It was massive and I tried to fight back. Clearly, I didn’t want it, especially based on the younger goon’s reaction, but my beaten body couldn’t do anything about it. So, with a sick and twisted smile, the tattooed man flicked the needle twice. “You want to protect the Littles so much? How about a taste, huh?” I was confused, but again, I didn’t have time to think. Without a single hesitation or flick of the wrist, the man turned the needle over like a dagger ready to plunge in my heart and thrust the needle straight down into my body. * * * “No!” I bolted upright in bed and clutched my chest where the needle had stabbed me that night. There was no wound… no pain anymore. Sadly though, it didn’t seem to matter. It had already been two weeks since that night. Our advanced Big medicine in our technologically advanced society had mostly cured me after the three days I had spent in the hospital. I still had a few lingering bruises, but I was considered a ‘miracle of modern medicine’ to even be alive as compared to even a few decades ago. I didn’t feel that way though… Sure, I was alive, and I could walk by myself now, so that was a bonus, but I had been having more nightmares recently about that night. Each one filled in more details from what I had forgotten about when I first woke up, and each was worse than the last one. I had in fact helped Willy and the others out, but I could still feel the tattooed man’s fists pound into me each night since I had come home. I could feel the heat of his body as he sat above me and beat me bloody. In truth, I was still very much afraid of him and so many other things now. But that wasn’t the worst part… All that was terrible. I will never deny that, and my diagnosed PTSD was going to take time to heal. I knew that and I had been told the same thing at least two dozen times by now. Unfortunately, though, as I lifted the sheets, I saw my larger problem. There, right by my crotch, was a soaked bed. It had only started at the hospital after my first nightmare about that night. The nurses were wonderful, and the doctor simply chalked it up to lingering ‘symptoms of stress.’ I hoped he was right, and for a time he was, but now, this was the third time in the past week… and it just seemed to be getting worse. My accident tonight looked almost twice as large as the first one I had on my last day in the hospital. So, doubt began to enter my mind and a single question plagued me every day; what was in that shot? I had tried researching it on my own, but I had no such luck. No answers… just more dead ends every day. Still, as I heard others begin to stir on the floors below me, I knew I couldn’t dwell on the situation. If I waited any longer, someone could see. A Little wetting the bed was a daily occurrence at Safehouse 81, and even a Middle could have the occasional problem, but a Big… that was just unheard of… taboo even. So, I gathered all my sheets, quickly stripped and wiped myself off, before running to the washer on the floor below me. While I stayed on the seventh floor, the rest of my staff stayed on the sixth. I knew it was a risk, and my pulse pounded as I trapsed down the steps to the washer there, but as I dumped in my sheets and pajamas, I felt finally… “Miss G?” I spun around and saw Penelope staring back at me. “What… what are you doing down here?” “Oh…” I tried to wrack my brain to think of an answer… any answer. My sheets were only halfway stuffed into the top loader washer, so the wet stains were very unfortunately as plain as day. “Uh… what are you doing up so early? Isn’t today one of your break days?” I tried to deflect. Penelope nodded her head. “That’s right, but I go jogging on my days off. You remember, right?” ‘Crap!’ I was still having a few memory lapses from right before that night. Considering that could be linked to my bedwetting though, I tried to pass it off. “Oh, of course! Right, right. You started… before… and all…” Penelope nodded, but then looked back at me questioningly and then even more so to the sheet behind me. “So… uh, is everything okay, Miss G?” I cursed my luck that this had happened the one day she had definitely had off in the mornings. Mildred and Jackie were on staff today for most of the Littles with us currently. After the assault, the safehouse agency we worked out of had given us a lighter duty in the area. Safehouse 82 would be taking in most of the Little not already under our care. Still, I knew I needed to give Penelope an answer. “Uh… just some stress sweats at night. Trauma and all that… you know?” Penelope looked at me with an odd look, and if I had been any more paranoid, I might have associated it with the look I gave myself to the Littles who didn’t believe the story they were being fed. Still, for now, Penelope seemed satisfied after another moment. “I see. Maybe you should go see someone about it?” If she suspected anything, she certainly wasn’t letting on, but still… to be frank, I was afraid to see another doctor. Given the unknown qualities of the shot I was given and my recent bed wetting, there were just too many unknowns in our society about the consequences of seeing someone so official. “No… I think I’ll be okay. Most of the crew has already been convicted or killed at this point after that incident at the warehouse with Willy and the gang they were all working for. I think I just need some time.” Penelope looked at me with a deep-set concern. I knew she wanted to help me… After all, she was the one that had called for the ambulance once she came to after the tattooed man and the rest of the goons had left. She sported a nasty bump on her head, one that was the aftermath of the furniture that had knocked her unconscious during the ordeal, but now, I could see she carried guilt over what had happened to me. I insisted I was fine, but her caring instincts were hard to quiet. She heavily sighed but then plucked her ear buds out of her armband. “Okay… just take some time if you need it… or if you ever want to talk, I’m…” “Thank you, Penelope.” I knew I was rather abrupt with my thanks, but it seemed to do the trick and Penelope gave one final reassuring smile and wave, and then trotted off downstairs. With her gone and my laundry in the wash, I quickly began my day and started to put another wet bed out of my mind. Gina, Harry, and the other Littles milled around their various cribs and beds. Not having any newborn Littles with us currently, the rest just required a few diaper changes. Of the five Littles with us still, it just so happened that each required diapers 24/7. Being a safehouse, it’s just how it was. Regardless of the start of my own morning though, I continued at my job like I always had. We received one new Little, Jonathan, who actually managed to pass the test to stay on the second floor, marking them as the most mature Little under our care here. Once he had settled in and started to mind his own business and reflect on his safety here like all others did, I went to work with the other aspects of Littlecare in a city safehouse. Jackie and Mildred were hard at work, and I quickly joined in with them. Mildred was a Middle but was one of our most diligent employees. Despite being the newest around here and considered an ‘intern,’ I was already considering offering her an official job in the next few weeks. Seeing her soothe Harry when he was running around and then tripped and started bawling, the few reservations I had with her were soon vanishing. The day continued much like that, and just as Jackie went back to her own home after her 12-hour shift, being only a part-time employee here, Penelope started on. She made quick work of making dinner for everyone and starting to plan out the schedules for the upcoming weekend. Everything was going just like it had before that terrible night, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Normalcy like this felt good. “What is this?” Jonathan asked as Mildred placed his tray in front of him on the table. Being the unregressed Little he was, he only required a booster seat at the table. Harry, Gina, and two others had been fed first, and two more had been fed after them. Now, it was just Jonathan and Ian. “It’s just some avocado, orange slices, and a bit of chili over half an English muffin. No tricks and nothing strange, I promise,” I said reassuringly to our latest charge. Mildred hesitated but I nodded her off back to the kitchen. I knew by now she could handle Jonathan, but I was already there to make sure that Ian at his food. The despondent Little slowly began to eat, but like usual, never made a sound. He had trauma like the rest of them, but unlike the others, his was written all over his body and actions with his never lightening mood. “So why is the plate a different color then?” Jonathan poked at his bright blue plastic tray with distrust. I couldn’t blame him. Littles were often subjected to the worst imaginable treatments out there, but still, he needed to eat while he was here with us. I refused to let a Little go hungry under my watch. “I promise that nothing is out of the ordinary.” Jonthan still looked at me with distrust painted all over his face. I sighed and I was feeling puckish myself, so I opted for the ‘nuclear’ option. “How about this? I eat a bit of your food, just so you know it’s okay, alright?” I could see the cogs in Jonthan’s mind already start to turn. It was a good sign, and I was glad that it at least seemed to be working. Bigs offering to eat a Little’s food was never a good practice or habit to get into. Sadly, food manufacturers more often than not slipped in extra chemicals to embarrass or even regress, temporarily or otherwise, a Little. Considering that Penelope had made most of the meal from natural ingredients, I wasn’t worried in this case though. While not as potent for us Bigs, laced Little food could still make for an uncomfortable following hour in the bathroom. Fortunately, though, Jonathan accepted my offer. The food was far too sweet for my taste, adhering to a Little’s preferences rather than a Bigs, but I got it down and Jonathan ate the rest of his food without complaint. Next though, was the staff and I’s dinner. Our food was pretty like what we had served the Littles, and while that wasn’t always the most exciting, I had learned long ago that Littles seeing something they could never have always been a bad idea. They could accuse us Bigs, or in Mildred’s case, Middle, of being unfair and withholding from them. So, we all then took a seat and began to eat our plainer food while the rest of the Littles were already asleep or happily reading a book or watching Adventure Sam in the nearby living room. The cartoon TV show was good for multiple mental ages, and occasionally, I even saw Jonathan peak up every once in a while, at it as ‘Sam’ traveled around our world and showcased the various animals and wonders of nature. Most Littles being from Earth these days, always gawked at the sheer scope and variety our world had to offer. Apparently, the woolly mammoth had been extinct on their planet for thousands of years. Here, though, it was just a trip to the zoo to see. Still, I could always see the wonderment in their eyes. For a brief moment, nothing else seemed to matter to them and I had to imagine that it gave them a sense of peace in a way. Still, with them settled, the rest of my staff, tonight only Mildred and Penelope, as Vivian was currently on vacation, seemed delighted with the food. For my own part, I sighed and wished for a good bottle of wine and some Itali food, but food was food. Interestingly enough though, as soon as the first spoonful of the chili hit my mouth, I couldn’t stop eating. I quickly ravished through my plate. Every crumb, piece of corn, and even juicy drop of the oranges at the end was a delight I just couldn’t get enough of. I had never experienced something so amazing in all my life. I was even sad to see that I had finished, but just as I set my plate down, having pulled it closer to my mouth to increase my speed of eating, I looked back at my staff. Penelope and Mildred were looking right at me, both clearly confused and maybe even a little horrified after what they had just seen. I quickly realized that they had witnessed every little detail of that event. My devouring had likely taken on an odd quality and one of madness or barbarity. I couldn’t help it, but seeing their faces, I knew I had to quickly play it off. I was their leader and showing weakness, in an already tense and shaky environment after the break-in, was something I simply couldn’t allow. “Whew!” I said exaggeratedly. “That was some meal, Penelope! I must have not eaten that much today. Just couldn’t get enough of it.” I tried to smile and joke, and while Mildred seemed to join in on the hilarity of the scene, I saw something lingering in Penelope’s face. Even behind her eventual smile, I could see something lurking there. Regardless though, the dishes were cleaned, all the Littles went to bed, and I made sure everything was set for tomorrow. It was still another weekday, but all the Littles were going back to daycare. They had been since the break-in, but tomorrow was going to be their first full day back, as opposed to the half days we had been adhering to for the past week and a half. So, with all that done, I closed my eyes and drifted asleep. * * * I felt a blackness begin to creep in. I felt like death had come for me. It wasn’t how I wanted to go out, but I had helped as many Littles as I could. Just as I felt seconds away from the end though, the tattooed man stopped. Relief surged through my body, but that only lasted for what felt like a few seconds. Instead of fully stopping, the tattooed man, fists bloody and smeared in my blood, smiled. It sent chills down my back, and despite my pain, I could think of nothing else. If a cat could grin as it was about to swallow the canary whole, I imagine what I saw before me would have been that. “Bring me the shot…” He said it with such finality to the younger goon. It was just ‘the shot.’ Nothing more. Like a serial killer everyone should fear and know about, it was so simple. But I could see the fear through the eyeholes of the mask the younger goon wore. His hands even trembled as he nodded and went to a case I had just noticed nearby. Producing a single shot with some kind of silvery substance, the tattooed man took it gleefully. It was at least a foot long and I tried to fight back. It was useless. I was too weak and beaten, and he was simply too strong. Then, with a sick and twisted smile, the tattooed man flicked the needle twice. “You want to protect the Littles so much? How about a taste, huh?” I was confused, but again, I didn’t have time to think. Without a single hesitation or flick of the wrist, the man turned the needle over like a dagger ready to plunge in my heart and thrust the massive needle straight down into my chest. * * * “No!” I bolted up again in my bed. My eyes darted around, and I tried to find some bearings of where I was. I was scared and confused, and I felt very small for some reason. To my relief though, I knew I was in my bedroom and the tattooed man had been dead for some time now. As I came to my senses though, to my dismay, I knew I had wet the bed again. “Shit.” Hearing more shuffling from downstairs through the floor, this time much earlier than usual, I rushed downstairs without thought. I hadn’t even bothered to wash myself off. I could always do more laundry when everyone else was busy… or so I thought. Right as I piled my soaked pajamas and sheets into the was again, I heard someone speak up from behind me. “I thought as much…” I spun around, and to my horror, I saw Penelope standing right there with a look of both annoyance and deep concern. “Penelope… it’s… it’s not what you think. I swear!” I could feel the fear of being discovered begin to gurgle up from my stomach. I felt like I was going to puke on the spot. Penelope sighed. “It’s okay, Miss G. I understand what happened… but we can’t keep doing this. I’ve seen you here before even yesterday. You aren’t as quiet as you think you are…” I swallowed and never thought that she would be awake if it wasn’t her morning shift. A constant night owl, she usually elected for the afternoon and night shifts here, but I should have known better. Her door looked right across the hallway at the washer and dryer room. It wouldn’t have taken her much to notice my presence here nearly every morning recently. “I knew you were hiding something, but this…” I was terrified she was going to make a scene, but instead, she just walked over and pinched a dry spot of my sheets and pulled them up a little to see the extent of the wet patch on them. It was horrible and I just wanted to die or bury myself in a hole someplace. “This is something more.” She turned to me, and all the annoyance or anger or whatever I saw before, was now gone. Instead, there was only sympathy and her previous look of concern. “We need to get you to the doctor. I’ve already called Jackie just in case this happened. They’ll think you’ve got the flu or something. Being around Littles, we all know how much that can happen.” I cracked the faintest of smiles. I could tell she was trying to get me to feel better at this point and truly was coming from a place of concern for my well-being. Embarrassing, but as she had mentioned, being around Littles just got one sicker than normal. The whole staff still remember the puking incident last summer when one stomach bug floated into our safehouse. It wasn’t pretty, and I just tried to get myself to think of this whole mess as just another version of that. It wasn’t, but the tiny relief the notion gave me was a welcome feeling. So, I quickly showered and piled myself into the car while Penelope drove me away. I wasn’t feeling up to it anyways, but it also maintained the illusion that I was sick. Littles under our care may have been damaged, abused, and regressed in all the ways one could be, but they had a curiosity and saw the world very much for what it was. If I left singing a tune and as happy as a clam, each one of them would have questioned me rigorously when we returned. A short drive later, Penelope parked in front of a pleasant brick and glass building. It seemed like dozens of other recently added office parks throughout the suburbs of the city and I at least admired the well-maintained flowers embedded in the flowerbeds around the base of the building. “Come on,” Penelope coaxed me out of the car, “he’ll be waiting.” “He?” For some reason, normally being the ‘in-charge’ person that I was, I normally scheduled all my appointments. This one though, I was going in completely blind. Penelope nodded and nudged me toward the door. “Yes, he. Dr. Benson is one of the best in the city at treating Bigs who have been…” She trailed off and I froze in place. “Penelope…” I tried to use my sterner voice on her but standing there and coming here for wetting the bed, I couldn’t help but feel a little weakened. “Is this doctor for…” I looked around to see if anyone was nearby. They weren’t. “Bedwetting?” I tried to whisper, but already inside the lobby by now, my voice seemed to echo all on its own. Penelope smiled but shook her head. “No. Not that. I figured you didn’t want to go there. Instead, Dr. Benson specializes in science experiments that have gone… well, to put it plainly, wrong.” I began to freak out internally. I hadn’t told anyone about the shot. “Wait… how do you know about the shot? I thought… I…” Penelope sighed and gestured for me to get in the elevator that had just dinged to the lobby floor. “Get in and I’ll tell you.” I sighed and complied without fight. The elevator jolted upward. “Look… I found you after I came to and they had left. I saw the shot and you…” I could already sense her hesitation. “Well, you freaked out a bit when you saw that thing.” “I did?” I had no memory of that. Penelope nodded. “You did. Not surprised that you don’t remember but the doctors and police bagged it, and I haven’t seen it since, but with everything going on… I put two and two together. I figured we would start here and go from there, okay?” It felt nice that I had such a loyal number two under my employ. Still, I trembled like a leaf as I entered the main office of Dr. Benson. It was even worse when we were eventually called back, but as the tall, clean-shaven, and dark with some gray steaks in it haired man in a lab coat entered, I felt oddly at ease. After Penelope excused herself, to give me at least a little privacy, Dr. Benson began. “Hello, Miss Glifford. I’m Dr. Benson,” he said calmly. His eyes seemed to nearly sparkle with intelligence and a kindness I really needed right then. “What seems to be the issue, or at least, why are you here today?” It took a second, and after a little coaxing, I finally managed to spit out everything that had happened. I felt a enormous weight lift off my shoulders, and I already felt better, but I knew I still had some problem. It didn’t help that Dr. Benson already seemed slightly worried as he began to write a few notes down on my chart. “Okay… not as unusual as you might think, so don’t panic there, but to see what we’re dealing with here and what you’ll need going forward, I’m going to need to ask you some questions, okay?” I nodded and with a glowing smile, he began. “How often do you wet the bed?” “Do you often daze out when interacting with Littles?” “Do you wear protection during the day currently, or do you have the desire to?” “Are there any authority figures in your life that you have started to defer to, both in times of stress and daily activities?” “Have you noticed any unusual habits in your daily routines, like drinking water, eating, or even brushing your teeth?” “Do you cuddle with any toy or object that brings you comfort?” With each one, I began to realize two things. First, each of his questions made me doubt my own existence in this world a little more. While most of the answers were a plain ‘no,’ there were at least 10 of his thirty questions, that I couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to completely. Secondly, though, and more concerning, I started to realize the questions began to take on a nature of their own. While the first seemed silly, like asking if I spontaneously collapsed into a gelatinous substance when loud noises were present, I began to notice a pattern about halfway through that I could confirm by the 20th. Being the head of a safehouse, I recognized the questions as nearly identical to the ones I would ask a Little to gauge their maturity level. As soon as I realized that pattern for certain, I didn’t let Dr. Benson ask his 29th, let alone 30th question. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at, doc?” I growled at the man before me. “Are you even a real doctor? Can’t you see that I’m a Big, and not a Little?” Dr. Benson sighed and nodded. “I apologize for my questions, Miss Glifford, but I think we need to…” “No!” I didn’t want to let him finish that thought either. I was pissed. I was confused about what was happening to me. But above all, I was scared. His questions seemed to only be heading in one direction, and I didn’t like that place at all. I had said ‘no’ to all his questions, but with each that he asked, that ‘no’ became less uncertain. I was sure he knew that, and I was nearly petrified inside that soon, my answer would instead be a ‘yes.’ I couldn’t let that happen. “Screw this!” I edged my chair back and stomped up and over to the door before looking back at a worried and slightly bewildered Dr. Benson. “Thanks for nothing, doc! I’m not going to turn into some pile of good all of a sudden, so I think you can just take your tests and shove it!” Without letting him say another word, I turned about a headed to the elevator as quickly as I could without running. “Miss G!” Penelope tried to call after me. “Wait! Wait for me!” But I was already pushing the button and tuning everything else out. It wasn’t until the elevator beeped and I hopped on to leave this building altogether that I realized I should have handled that whole situation better. Normally, I was a level-headed person. I was focused on my job and caring for the Littles in my protection at the safehouse, the government required that much at least, but I was happy and content. Even keeled and not prone to outbursts was my reputation through nearly everything. A Little threw a toy at my head? I would scold or punish them, but never let my anger or pain get away from me. A Little called me dirty names and wished I was dead? Hurtful, yes, but I always kept my emotions in check. Or if a Little breaking free from a new employee while we’re at the park was terrifying, I always made sure to get them back safely and keep a clear mind about it. Now, all that seemed to be just out of my reach. I felt a burning anger inside my chest, a sadness in my eyes and trembling lip, and an unbridled fear in my head. I wanted it to stop… for it to be over, but it kept at it. Even when I got to Penelope’s car and waited for her to catch up, I still felt very much the same. I vowed to never return to Dr. Bensons, but as I wiped the snot and tears away from my emotional outburst on my sleeve, I knew something was definitely wrong with me. My pride might have been my downfall, but I wanted… needed to figure this out on my own. It was just a shot, and I was a Big. A bit of stress, PTSD, and some chemicals were not going to keep me down. As Penelope exited the building with a worried look on her face though, my resolve melted just a bit. I kept my outward confidence that I would d be fine, but a tiny bubble of growing doubt was buried deep within me. My gamble was certainly that, and I just hoped that everything would be okay.

This role play will follow 8 year old Emma as she starts wetting the bed, and progressively gets in more and more situations that leads to her being put back in diapers full time. Meanwhile her little sister Ashley is 4 is finally potty trained. Judy their 28 year old single mother isn't horribly disappointed when her oldest is back in diapers again. I'll be playing Emma, I'm looking for someone to play Judy and we can share Ashley. If you'd like to join me please respond with full paragraphs unless a situation calls for otherwise.